Becoming Hades

2 | Crows

Aubrey

Crows are scavenger birds.

They live off of whatever scraps they round up, feasting on the flesh of debris and forgotten rubble. They're survivors, durable enough to withstand almost anything thrown their way.

They're resilient, I'll give them that. But another detail about crows that I will give them is that they're very noisy creatures.

"Aubrey," Morpheus calls out as I walk past him. He reaches out to grab my arm, but I jerk away and turn to stare straight at him. As if on cue, the fog seems to clear and more of him becomes visible.

I have to crane my head back to look up at him. There's something indescribable in his eyes, an emotion that I can't quite put my finger on.

"Aubrey." His eyes soften, and there's a brotherly tone in his voice. "Please just talk to me."

There's that cold feeling, again. It seeps down my spine, invading my nervous system until it latches onto my cerebellum. I yawn, and I know it's his power taking effect.

Morpheus is the god of dreams, but his father's the god of sleep. This means that he does not possess the power to put anyone to sleep naturally, but he can make you see things and imagine stuff that's not there, almost like a hallucination. It always feels like a dream, hence the yawning.

I yawn once more, but press down on the back of my neck again until Santi's screen flashes red.

"Stop hurting yourself," Morpheus says.

"Then how about you stop trying to control me," I snap.

He takes a couple steps back, movement rustling behind him. I watch as he pulls a graceful white wing over his shoulder, preening it between his fingers. Ever so graceful; ever so deceitful.

Morpheus may appear seraphic in his movements, but he'll always be an overgrown crow to me.

The fog tickles the hairs on my neck, winding through my curls and brushing past my ears. "I had another dream last night. But you already knew that, didn't you?"

He's never actually confirmed it in the few brief encounters we've had, but I have the suspicion that Morpheus is responsible for my dreams with the boy. He is the leader of the oneiroi, after all. They're the gods who weave together different dreams for people; whether lucid dreams or nightmares, they create them for the citizens of the Sanctuary, and even for the gods themselves.

Morpheus plucks a particular feather out from his wing, watching as it crystalizes in his touch. He clutches an oblong quartz in his palm now. "I've told you before, we aren't allowed to interfere with cadet dreams."

It's true, the oneiroi aren't allowed to mess with what me and the other warriors can see. But that doesn't mean there's any restrictions that enforce this rule.

I watch as he tosses the quartz, letting it skip atop the abyss before slowly sinking down into it. The rock never truly fades from view, even as it's dragged to the depths of the chasm.

"What do you even want to talk about?" I ask, sidestepping him so I'm now in front, and making a beeline towards the Gateway.

The god's plumes ruffle, and he takes long strides to catch up with my fast pace. I can see his reflection, shimmery on the roads tiles with a golden silhouette. He's rubbing the back of his neck, and when I dare to glance back, I could see a knot in his brow.

I used to think Morpheus resembled an angel, a celestial being that personified the epitome of being a god. But the dark rings under his eyes helped shatter the image, giving him an eternally forlorn and melancholy appearance.