Inferno Ascended

It hadn't been easy to sneak through a fortress full of paranoid soldiers at night until reaching the execution camp. 

Luckily, or unluckily, a biting wind and the uncomfortable, icy drizzle reminded everyone why this was the worst place in Stygia. 

No one really wanted to leave the shelter of the watchtowers. And those left with the grueling task of patrolling could be seen from a distance with their green light bulbs on long poles strapped to their backs.

One would have thought that because of this they made easy targets for archers. But Glax now had a little experience to know how difficult it was to aim at night, in wind and rain.

In fact, it wasn't impossible, but it was certainly difficult. And they had whistles to warn of anything wrong. Also, the sentinels on the watchtowers could easily see a light missing...

In any case, Glax managed to avoid them this far and hoped to make his way back safely. Now he waited under a tree, relieved that the crucifixion field didn't have any offenders being punished at the moment.

In a few moments he heard the hum of Hermes' 'winged sandals', and the god hovered and stopped in front of him. This time he wore a hooded cloak and furs to keep himself cozy and warm.

"You look grumpy, Glax," the god commented, offering some beverage from a skin. "Here, have a drink. This will warm you up."

"Even though you are my patron, I don't think it wise to accept food and drink from the gods," Glax grumbled.

"Ah, good point. All this because of Queen Persephone?" Hermes asked, taking a sip of the drink he'd offered, and snapped, "And if you were that wary of other gods, I wouldn't be here on this chilly night."

"Hm. What's the plan?"

"Me? I don't have any plans," the god said aloud. "I just came to help clarify the facts."

Glax saw Mors' arrival, his cloak of shadows flying, before the Valosian could do further questions.

Death stopped in front of them.

"Why did you call me here, Hermes?"

"It was not me who called, actually, but Glax. I only acted as an intermediary..."

It would have been better if Hermes had shared with him what the plan was, but Glax took the cue.

"Yes, I want to see you."

"Well, you can see me now. What do you want?"

"I want what you got from me. Simple as that."

"You accepted the terms. Simple as that," Mors snapped, shrugging.

"Glax is up to renegotiation. We're talking about an object with sentimental value, from his homeland, Valya. Come on, Mors, be reasonable." said Hermes.

"Oh, that might not be possible. I made a legitimate deal."

Glax lashed out. "Why, Lord Mors, you wanted the souls, didn't you? Keep them, give me back the watch!"

Mors took the clock inside his bag. The Valosian narrowed his eyes to see his artifact in the god's thin, pale fingers. The object still shone gently in the light of the orbs.

"Glax is offering a gift fit to your impacting presence. This beautiful Scarlet Tunic, spun by the Weaver Pro Master, Arachne, and embroidered by a very talented hamadryad! See the details! 500 threads! Top-notch Infernal Silk from Arachne, who one day defeated my multiskilled - and sometimes very arrogant of that fact - sister Athena!" Hermes winked after his sales pitch. "Unique and totally original piece!"

"I don't like red."

"You don't like it because you've never seen yourself in a tunic that will bring out your icy, dominant glare. Hold it for a sec, Glax." Hermes handed the tunic to Glax for a moment as he fished around in his bag. Glax noticed the tunic was a little sticky, perhaps from the drizzle on the spider silk thread.

Meanwhile, Hermes took a mirror from his bag. It was the most beautiful, reflective mirror Glax had ever seen. Another divine marvel, for sure.

"Now take this, Glax, and give this one to me. Yes? Thank you. Mors, don't make light of Glax, at least try it. Glax gave away his best and more valuable possession in trying to do business with you. Unfortunately, he has no commercial talent, and you know it."

Chewing words with pressed lips, Mors took off the cloak and tunic while Glax rolled his eyes and held the mirror So Death could admire himself. Perhaps only the eastern gods had a variety of imperfect bodies, he mused.

The sour and moody god slid into the robe scarlet, and he looked in the mirror, uncomfortably aware of his own appearance. 

"No."

"Why not?" Glax and Hermes asked in unison. 

Even considering the morbid backdrop and the weather, Mors hadn't been too bad with the tunic. 

The god put on the cloak and squinted at himself again in the mirror, evaluating what he saw. Glax could have sworn he was embarrassed.

The tunic made him look less depressing and more imposing and confident, even with the cloak of shadows.

"Too flashy," complained Death.

Glax handed the mirror back to Hermes and wiped his sticky hands. Hermes put the mirror away and asked Mors.

"So it's a no? For real? It's your final say on it?"

"I'm not interested in the exchange."

"You don't even know how to use the artifact," Glax growled, looking up at Mors.

"Only an idiot meets a god in dreams and doesn't recognize the importance of the moment. But hey. You're that kind of idiot."

"It doesn't matter," Hermes broke in. "It's a pity you guys didn't come to an agreement. But oh! I have to go! Uncle Hades is calling me! Watch out for the harpies."

"What are you talking about?!" This time the grumpy unison departed from Mors and Glax at the same time, watching Hermes sprint away with his vehicle.

"Thief. At least admit it." Glax grumbled beside the fluttering-cloaked god.

"Idiot. You mustn't carry dangerous objects if you're going to act like a child." Mors responded promptly to the provocation.

Glax again wiped his sticky hands, only to see with horror that the very fine strands of cobweb sprouted from them again, and connected directly to the scarlet tunic. He followed the drizzled dotted strands of light with his gaze, until his eyes met Mors'.

"EEK!" Both accomplished the trouble and the trap they fell into. "HERMES!!!!"

"Take it off!" Glax pointed at the tunic. But before he could finish talking, he had to withdraw his hand and finger as the sharp scythe of the god Death whizzed past and slashed through the webs that linked them.

To both their horror, the webs reappeared.

Mors then accepted the Valosian's suggestion, and tried to rip the tunic from his body... 

But he couldn't.

As much as he tried, it seemed he didn't have the strength to unglue it from his body. He twisted his body in several manners to get rid of it, but it didn't work either. Mors was puffing and grumbling after so many attempts.

"Oh! Okay! No panic man, no panic!" Glax tried to use the advice to himself. It was just a joke by Hermes to scare Mors. That's all. "Take it easy. Just... Go away. He's laughing at our expense, but that's nothing. The webs will snap."

Mors nodded thoughtfully for a moment, then shrugged. Tucking his cloak back over his clothes, he turned his back to Glax and prepared to leave, not even saying goodbye.

A stumble by Mors pulled Glax forward, and they both nearly fell to the ground.

"You've got to be kidding," Glax growled.

"Hermes, come back here you bastard!" Mors didn't scream, just grunted, looking all over the place, trying to spot the tricky god.

On the one hand, Glax was pissed off, but he also found it amusing that Mors couldn't leave his side. Hermes had returned the clock to Glax, without taking it off Mors.

"Okay, Lord Mors. It seems you are attached to me, and I to you. I'm sure Lord Hermes will come back in a while. But ... Until then, you'll have to stay here in Stygia." 

"You are laughing?"

"No. I'm not ahem, laughing." Glax crossed his arms and pursed his lips, lowering his eyes so Mors wouldn't see the amused glint in them. "Do you want to try another way to break this spell?"

"The next thing I'm going to break is that smartass face," Mors snapped, also crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes as his mind obviously wandered to his revenge projects.

Glax's amusement only increased.

"All right. I think this should be a pastime for you immortals. But just out of curiosity, won't that get in your way?"

"Of course you will. But you'll have to go with me."

"So-o-ry. I can't travel as fast as you. It's you who will have to go with me wherever I go, Lord Mors. And I have a lot to do. I'm trying to be a hero and free my wife's orb."

"You barely knew her."

"I regret not giving the two of us the opportunity to get to know each other better. Now I see she was fascinating, and I was an asshole."

"At least on that, we agree."

Glax rubbed his arms. He was soaking and freezing that cold night, while arguing with Death in an execution field. He had no idea how he would explain Mors' presence beside him ... or how people would react to it.

The two stared at each other for a time, and turned their faces practically in sync. 

"Argh!"