Tales From The Story: Morpheus

Chapter 1: Adelaide

Morpheus eased his tall black boot off his foot, grimacing at his aching heel. He'd spent far too much time on his feet today, he reflected. Why didn't he just fly? Taking off the black cloak, his inky wings spread out behind him. A feather floated down to the ground as the appendages stretched.

"You don't do that too often." The voice caused Morpheus to whirl around, his hand falling to the sword at his side. He relaxed when he saw the familiar sandy-blond hair and umber eyes of Hermes, god of travelers.

"By Zeus, Hermes, you startled me!" Morpheus complained, replacing the cloak. The wings were concealed beneath it once more.

"I don't know why you don't use those more often," Hermes said, his winged sandals flapping irritably. "It would make your job so much easier. And it would add to your—your image." He spread his long arms out dramatically.

Morpheus shifted from foot to foot, the movement made awkward by the lack of a boot on one foot. "I'd rather not get into that, Hermes. What are you doing here, anyway? Don't you have the council to go to?"

"Oh, that," Hermes said, waving a hand dismissively. "It was a long day for Apollo, and the moon was just right for hunting for Artemis, and Hephaestus was smelling or smelting or whatever it is he does in that forge of his, and Dionysius was drinking ..."

"So nobody wanted to have the council of the gods, basically."

"Basically," Hermes agreed. "It was really just me and Hera, and you can imagine how awkward that was! Oh, by the way, a girl is coming to see you."

Awkwardly, Morpheus brushed back his dark hair. "A girl?" he repeated uncertainly. Then he frowned. "Is this another of your attempts to marry me off?"

Hermes had made various attempts to get Morpheus to marry someone. All the other gods had—aside from those who had vowed to remain otherwise, like Artemis and Athena—and he said that Morpheus was going to be an old widower. That was fine by Morpheus. He had no desire to saddle himself with a woman ... and there was also the blonde girl.

Hermes shook his head. "No. She's traveling, so I know she's coming here. You know, part and parcel with being the god of travelers, I know where everyone is going."

"I'm aware," Morpheus answered. He sat on one of the multiple beds in his foremost back room, tugging the boot back on his foot. "I guess you'd better make yourself scarce. It wouldn't do my image any good to be seen with you here."

Hermes made a face before disappearing. He was the only god who could teleport; supposedly he opened some kind of door that enabled him to go wherever he wanted to. Morpheus had never determined if he was telling the truth about that.

Before Morpheus could ponder his friend's strange habit for lying, there was a knock on the door. Morpheus turned, his eyebrows raised. "Yes?"

"Lord Morpheus?" came the answer.

"Who else?" Morpheus said.

The door opened, and an attractive young woman with raven hair piled on top of her head came in. Morpheus's eyebrows raised even more. Her dark eyes surveyed the humble living area appraisingly, and she completely ignored the much-taller god in her look about. Morpheus cleared his throat, and the girl's eyes switched to him. There was an underlying humor in her expression as she said, with a completely straight face, "Can I help you with something?"

Completely thrown off, Morpheus stumbled over his words before he said, "This is my home. You came in. What do you want?" His words were more irritable than he had intended them to be.