Alyxa couldn’t sleep. It was, quite literally, driving her insane, and all Morpheus could do was watch her. More often than not, afraid to leave her alone, he carried her around in his arms, letting her talk at him or simply be silent as he wandered the halls of Hell. He had come here rarely when it had still been under Hades’ rule, and he had to admit – quietly – that Lucifer had a flair for the dramatic. The lofty ceilings and great pillars were swarming with golds and silvers, deep velvet blues and blacks. Everywhere you turned there were paintings and portraits; it was very much like wandering through a museum or palace of the ages. Lucifer left them to their own devices for the most part, dropping in every now and then to see if Morpheus had had enough time to think. This place wore on you; people did not sleep here, or dream, as most of them were dead. For Dreamers then, it was agonizing, and for the Dream-King himself? He knew he was fading in power.
Alyxa tugged on his sleeve and he glanced down at her.
“Can we go home yet?” she asked softly, her internal battle clouding her eyes.
“Soon, my love,” he replied softly. She shifted in his grip.
“Let’s go see Bast?”
He nodded and turned, wandering in the direction of the throne room. Lucifer wasn’t there, but the two cages were. Bast looked up as they entered and stretched her panther-shape.
-Good, you’re here. Enyo, tell them.-
The goddess Kali – also known as Enyo in the Greek world – beckoned them closer. From what Morpheus understood, she had been one of the first that Lucifer had trapped, afraid of her. Who wouldn’t be? Goddess of Destruction, Ares’ lover and consort, Lady of Fire…
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