Chapter Eight

Killian

I 'm not really sure why they decided not to stick with us, but they quickly separated from us when we left the first town, probably because it's pretty difficult for them to blend in; I catch glimpses of them every now and then, but for the most part, they stay hidden. I know that the only reason that they're staying with us and not running off ahead is because they're watching over us and keeping us safe for Farren.

"Thanks, mate," Khaos says as he wipes his sword on the grass, a massive smile exposing his sharp teeth.

I grin, "Anytime."

"They were Wraiths," Mayhem states the obvious, "Underworld Wraiths."

"Underworlders can't turn into Wraith's. It has never happened before," Grey says, staring down at the now very dead Wraith at his feet. "I thought that Underworlders were somehow escaping into the Fae realm, and then getting turned into Wraith's because they can't handle the differences in the Realm's, but this suggests that Underworlders are capable of being turned while they're here."

"Don't forget that there is a lot of unrest in the Underworld at the moment; there is a possibility that the princes are having a cause and effect on the natural order of the Underworld." Mayhem points out the wheels in his mind clearly turning in a direction that none of ours are. "I mean, have you ever been away from the Underworld for this long before?"

Hades shakes his head, looking thoughtful, "No, never."

"Then it might just be the natural effect of not having the god of the Underworld here and the Princes causing shit," Mayhem reasons. "Even though you're not in your role right now, I would bet that the Underworld itself recognises that you're here and that just your presence will be having a positive effect of balancing things back out."

Grey's eyebrows raise in surprise, "I hope you're right."

"There's something different about these Wraith's though. I don't know if it's just because they're Underworld creatures but one of the ones that I killed threatened me," I say, and then repeat what the supe said before I behead him, "normally, Wraith's are completely mindless and definitely not capable of communication. This one was able to talk in complete sentences and the whole group seemed fairly well organised."

"That is incredibly concerning," Grey says as his eyes study all of the wraiths scattered around us.

"You said that he was particularly skilled, so he retained a lot of skills from his past life?" Khaos asks me, and I nod, "Can you show me him?"

"Sure," I reply, as I glance around the bodies before heading back toward the supe that I killed.

Khaos is silent for a second as he studies him and then curses, "He was one of the soldiers that worked at the castle when Hades and I were there; he was a good soldier."

"Fuck, I'm sorry, man," Loki says, offering his sympathy and clapping him on the shoulder.

Khaos shakes his head, "I didn't know him well, but it's shocking that to see someone I used to know is fucked up."

"It really is," Reaper agrees with a frown.

"Can you use your hellfire to get rid of the bodies here, or will it alert people to your presence?" Storm asks.

Grey's eyebrows dip slightly, but he answers, "It should be okay; there are enough supes here that can use hellfire that it shouldn't raise any alarms."

Khaos glances at Poca, who I'm surprised to find hasn't slunk off again yet, and asks, "Care to help Cerb?"

Poca barks once, and I watch in fascination as he starts to incinerate the bodies closest to him while Grey does some of the others. I had no idea that he could do that. Once he's finished, he comes around to all of us; Meri curled up on his back and checks us all over, receiving strokes in the process. Once he's satisfied that we're all okay, he barks once at us, almost as if warning us not to get into any more trouble, and then moves into the treeline again, disappearing from sight.

We all share a look; as much as I'd like him to stick with us, he probably is safer in the woods, and it's not like we could force him to stay with us; it's Poca. He'll do what he wants. He's like Farren in that way.

"Come on, let's find somewhere to rest for the night, and then we can head off again soon," Storm suggests.

Khaos claps Grey on the shoulder and adds, "We'll figure it out, but you heard the bartender it's not going to be as simple as you just turning back up. The princes have loyal followers here, and you will need an army to take back your realm. Which means you need to find people who are loyal to you and capable of fighting. You may be a god, but they're demi-gods, and together, they're fucking strong."

As we continue forward, I ask, "Would any of the other gods help?"

Grey shrugs, "It's unlikely. They all have their own things going on, and the few that I could ask are dealing with big things right now."

"Was it a god that put the silencing spell on you?" Mayhem suddenly asks.

Grey seems shocked by the question but nods once.

"So, we won't be asking them to help then," Loki mutters.

"It's complicated," Grey replies.

Farren

B lood is once again pooling around my feet, adding another layer to the pool that had dried from my previous torture sessions. Hiromu has come back twice in a row, and as sick and twisted as it is, I am actually grateful for the reprieve from the illusions and welcome the pain of being sliced.

Xerxes is still here; at least, I think he is. My mind has been trying to protect itself from the horrifying things that Hiromu has made me see, and as soon as he leaves, I pass out. This time I was woken up by Dagon greeting me overly happily as he jumped immediately into torturing me. I've managed to get myself sort of near the middle of the room so that I don't get blood in my corner or on Xerxes, who should be hiding there still in his tiny form.

I'm aware that every now and then, the pain becomes less intense as he shouts a question at me, but I've gone so far into the dark that I don't even hear the questions he asks; I just wait to ride it out so that I can crawl back into my corner.

I need to heal, I need to try and make a plan of how to get the fuck out of here, I need to get the key fragment, but Hiromu's torture has really fucked with my head, literally.

"Farren?" Xerxes' voice pulls me out of my thoughts, and I glance toward the bars of my cell to see that I've once again been left alone. I didn't even realise that he'd gone. That can't be good.

"Hey," I reply, my voice cracking.

"I wish I could help," he replies, sounding desperate.

I sigh as I pull myself up to sit and turn to face him properly. I'm aware that I must look like a horror show. A tray by the door catches my attention, and I force myself to stand to grab it; they give me enough water to keep me alive and a small hunk of rock-hard bread, again just enough to make sure that I don't die.

"I'm sorry that you have to witness this," I say as I try to eat, "if you can leave, please do; I won't be offended at all."

"I'm not leaving you," he replies indignantly like me suggesting it has really offended him.

"Thanks," I reply. "I need to get out of here."

"You can't go anywhere in the condition that you're in," Xerexes points out.

Drinking the water, I reply, "I know I need longer between torture sessions to heal properly or even enough to give me a fighting chance, and I don't think that they're going to give me that."

"No," Xerxes agrees, "wait, I might be able to help to heal you. It won't be a lot, but I can at least take the edge off."

I perk up as my eyebrows rise, "You can do that?"

"I should be able to, but it won't make a massive difference," he replies.

"Even slight relief would help right now," I reply, "I can then try to get some actual sleep instead of trauma induced sleep that doesn't actually allow me to heal, and I might actually be able to think of a way to get out of this mess."

I don't tell him that I really want to go back to sleep in the hopes that I get to see H again because he just makes me feel better and not like I'm in a crazy, impossible situation that I'm unlikely to escape.

"Alright, place your hand on my cover, and don't let your magic fight mine," Xerexes says.

"It won't. I don't have any access to it, apart from a trickle of healing magic."

"Of course," Xerexes replies, "ready?"

"Yep," I reply.

His cover warms underneath my hand, and I feel the warmth spread throughout my body; his magic heals some of my minor cuts, or those that are nearly healed anyway, and takes a small amount of the pain away from the other ones, although it doesn't heal them I am incredibly grateful.

He takes away enough of the pain that I know I'll be able to get to sleep.

"Thank you," I tell him as his magic pulls back, and I move into the corner again.

"I wish I could do more," he replies sadly, "you get some rest and I'll keep watch."

I thank him again and then close my eyes.

**********

I feel ridiculously excited when I realise that I'm in my cell and I'm dreaming. My eyes quickly scan the cell before they land on H, gorgeous as I remember him sitting on the floor and frowning. Before I can let him know that I'm here, he tenses, and his head snaps up, looking in my corner.

"Ren?" he questions, hope saturating his tone.

"Hey," I reply, trying to sound upbeat.

I must fail because his frown deepens, "You're in more pain and not just physically."

"How did you know that?" I ask instead of confirming or denying, either way; I don't really see the point. I'm more honest with him than I am with myself, which doesn't make too much sense because he is me, or at least a part of me. That's going to get confusing fucking quickly the longer that I think about it, so I'm going to abandon that line of thinking.

He pauses for a second, most likely wondering how much he can tell me before he comes to a decision, and replies, "I'm a higher demon, kind of; I can feel when someone is in pain and how, physically and emotionally or mentally. I also feed on it, although, for some reason, my magic doesn't want to feed on your pain. It wants to fix it."

That explains why his magic has once again been trying to heal me since I arrived and why I'm finding it easier to move and speak than I have for what feels like a long time. I don't care if I'll only feel the effects while I'm in here, and when I go back to my real cell, I'll feel it all threefold. I have a feeling that there won't be many pain-free moments in my future or ever again, and I should take advantage of the gift that he's giving me while I can.

Weirdly, he looks kind of nervous, and I'm at a complete loss as to why, so instead, I say, "Well, that's got to be super helpful for your kind of enforcer job."

His lips tick up into a small smile as his shoulders drop slightly releasing the tension, "Yeah, it was. I thought it would freak you out."

I chuckle as I slide down the wall, and realise I can sit slightly closer to him than I could last time, although we still can't touch.

"There's not much that freaks me out and how a supernatural survives is definitely not something that would. Besides, I can see how that would come in handy for your job, as I said before. Can you manipulate someone's pain levels?"

His head tilts to the side as his eyebrows raise slightly, "Yes, actually I can. I can heighten, lower it, and make someone feel it when there's no reason for it."

"That is so cool," I reply and then add, probably revealing a little bit too much in the process, "less messy too; you could torture someone and get the information that you need and leave no trace of it anywhere."

He's silent for a moment before a sharp and beautiful grin stretches across his face, revealing his sharp teeth and making his red and gold eyes sparkle, "You're a little bit bloodthirsty, aren't you, Ren?"

"You have no idea," I reply, smiling although I know that he can't see me.

"I like it," he replies.

"So, at the risk of ending this dream before I want to, I have a question to ask," I start.

His eyes dart sideways in my general direction but don't land on me, so I'm assuming that for whatever reason, he still can't see me; it's probably a good thing since I know that I look like death, covered in fresh and dried blood, missing a finger, sliced up and bruised. Yeah, I don't think I want the hot as fuck demon seeing me like this.

"Okay, I suppose there's no harm in you asking, but I can't promise that I will answer."

"Fair enough," I reply, knowing it's probably as good as it's going to get, "what is it you really do? I mean, we both know an Enforcer of sorts isn't quite the truth."

His lips twitch ever so slightly, "I was Hades' head Enforcer, I punished the worst of the worst that came from all the realms and was in charge of the team that helped to do the same. I also oversaw the training of the Helliers when I had the time. I trained them until Hades disappeared, and then I couldn't get back into the realm; I'm not even sure what happened."

I'm quiet as I absorb that information; I mean, in theory, he would've trained some of the Helliers that kept Grey and me imprisoned and helped to torture us. If what Dagon said was true, then Grey is actually Hades, and that means that H knows Grey because H knows Hades, which also means that he still thinks Hades has disappeared. Of course, I have no idea if what Dagon said was actually true, so bringing it up now could possibly have a negative effect.

Oh, and I almost forgot H is a fragment of my imagination, and none of what he's saying is actually true; it's just my subconscious way of putting all the pieces together and keeping me distracted, giving me something else to think about while I endure hell. I'm pretty impressed with its inventiveness, to be fair.

"Are you okay?" he asks, and then adds before I can reply, "I know you're in the cells of the castle. I recognise this one, I can promise you that whatever Helliers are keeping you there and inflicting this kind of pain are not mine. I haven't been back to the Underworld for a long time, almost as long as Hades has been missing."

Although most of what he's said rings with truth, there's a part of it that pings with a lie. I don't think it's a significant enough lie to call him out on it though and quite frankly, there are a lot bigger things that I should worry about right now. A little white lie is hardly concerning.

I answer him like he is real because that's how I've treated him so far, "It's okay, I know that. The Helliers aren't giving me any grief, I actually haven't seen any of them, it's the fucking princes." As soon as I mention them his expression darkens, and becomes something a whole lot more deadly, I get the feeling that he's not a fan of the Princes although if what he said is true about being Hades right hand man, then he probably has more reason to hate them than anyone.

"Fucking cowards, the lot of them, and not nearly as powerful as they think they are," he rants.

My eyebrows rise with interest, "Well, I can't say that I don't agree with you; their magic is pretty fucking strong when you can't fight back. Of course, the fact that they won't allow me to fight is more proof that they're cowards."

After that, the conversation changes to lighter topics, and we spend what seems like hours just talking about everything and nothing. I learned that his favourite meal is a dish called Levenrethata, which he described as a kind of meat stew with vegetables that are only found in the Underworld, and in specific his hometown. He said he'd missed it, the stew, not his hometown, although he didn't elaborate on why he didn't miss it.

"I'm also not good when I get bored," he adds.

"In what way?" I ask, sounding confused.

"Erm, I guess I get a bit stabby and bit plotting my enemy's deaths, that sort of thing," he admits.

I chuckle, "Doesn't sound like a problem to me."

"You're probably the only person that would think that," he replies with a soft smile as he lifts one knee up and rests his arm around it, "even Hades used to be wary, and I got bored. I have somewhat of a grey moral compass."

"Me too," I admit. "Plus, I think it's impressive that even Hades is worried about you getting bored."

He chuckles, his laughter warm and somehow helping to heal me even more than his magic is already doing.