Eating Souls, Act One: The Beginning

17: The laws of Gods : We're forbidden from rescuing Rivin?

Argus left Death City with the God Slayer over his shoulder and its chain wrapped loosely around his wrist. He felt calm and free for the first time since Demos was born. The desert night was clear and chill, and the stars seemed to reflect his mind. He could feel and hear the animals teaming under and around him.

Life had never seemed so... Wonderful and terrible.

His whole mission had been to end the disgusting cycle of the Shinigami, and now that he had... What was left for him? Perhaps he should find his little sister and tell her that it was over, finally over...

A cold wind brought a fox's mournful cries to his ears. He ran his finger along the edge of his weapon's blade. "I need to find a way to store you. I can't have you found again. I would hate for you to be used against me."

He would simply take her back to Greece with him. Down the river Styx. Keeping her in Hades seemed like the best idea. No mortal could go there, and the only immortals he had worried about were now dead.

He walked for several days, unaware of the blistering heat during the day, and unaffected by the subfreezing temperatures of the night. The grief stricken foxes howled at the bloody moon. It was dawn when he reached another town. After the peace of the desert, the volume of noise in the mecha was nearly overwhelming. Cars, airplanes, people.

All living their lives.

Most talking about the tragedy of the DWMA.

Argus smiled for the first time in millennia.

With his soul-protect on, he strode into town. He selected a comfortable hotel for himself for the night. He rested the God Slayer on one of the twin beds and took the other for himself. It was unusual that it hadn't reverted to its natural form, but he reasoned that it had grown fond of Demos and was mourning his death.

The God laid himself down to sleep.

And he never woke up again.

/*-+-*/

Diomedes quietly burned out the soul of the God that had tormented his daughter. Killing Argus in his sleep was too good for him in some ways, but a mercy kill in others. The New God of Hades had no idea what Luceria's true powers as a Witch were. Yes, she could physically unravel and destroy a soul on contact if she wished, but her strength was to heal them. To take something broken and mend it.

If Argus were to find out that he had failed...

He pitied the man, really. Despite his actions against Luceria, Argus had been quite mad for the last several thousand years. And Diomedes couldn't blame him. To lose a child and have them returned to a semblance of life at the expense of innocent souls he had been charged to protect... It would have been too much for any father to bear.

The Old Witch left them both on their respective beds for the moment and went to the bathroom. He turned on the light, and faced himself in the mirror. "Vul-pes, Volpes, Lo-gu-pus, Lo-ga-lo-ga-pus." He chanted, bringing swimming images dancing across the mirror's surface. Reflections of children, brushing their teeth or playing pranks on their siblings, reflections of houses on the surface of still lakes, fishermen reflected in the polished metal of their crafts, even other witches engrossed in studies reflected by their own glasses or windows. A glimpse of a black cloak and white skull mask, tightly embracing a child whose face was the same as all the faces who had come before him. He searched until he found the reflection of a particular witch, tatting lace made of her own icy magic.

She was nearly as plump as Olivia, with eyes the color of ice and skin sallow and pale lavender. Her hair was deep purple, with two black braids hanging in front of her ears. Her face was traditionally handsome for a Greek woman, and her thick lips moved in time with the counting of her stitches.