ᵉⁿᵍˡⁱˢʰ through the years - all gods must die [Original Story]

04

Completely in thought, Natalia walked around the kitchen counter to Damian on the couch with two fresh cups of tea in her hands, handed him one, and sat down cross-legged with him.

Knowing nothing was actually quite nice. A simple life. An ordinary life. No gods, no magic, no task. A life like that of many people. And then, thanks to a ridiculous little trigger, like a photo, something said, an encounter, or what is seen, it was over with. Real life came back. And with it, all the memories.

"When was the last time we actually spoke to Hades?" a question at which Damian furrowed his brows and looked to Natalia, not quite realizing what she wanted from the God of the Underworld now, "Must be more than a hundred years ago."

"Jack the Ripper," an 'oh yeah' escaped Natalia at Damian's rather poor answer, nodding in agreement and then looking to him, which made her smile, "You still don't like him."

"We're talking about Hades," Damian replied rather matter-of-factly, "Hades. I don't understand it. Never have, and from the looks of it, never will, why you do."

"Says the guy who befriended Seth," Natalia retorted with a snort, as the difference wasn't much and led to a smirk on Damian's face, "Seth of all people."

"Yeah, poor Osiris," but Damian's voice just dripped with mockery as he rolled his eyes without losing the smile, "What do you want from him anyway?"

Talk. After all, it couldn't hurt to talk to the god who was responsible for the underworld.

To everything, there was never an answer, but Hades was morally extremely flexible and didn't see it too closely with the rules of the universe, so somehow, in some form, there were answers after all.

Pure waste of time, Damian was sure, so his enthusiasm was clearly limited. For it however, something occurred to him.

Wordlessly, Damian put down the cup, stood up and went to his closet in the bedroom to get a small cube from the last drawer and then put it in Natalia's lap when he sat down again.

"You found it," Natalia began to beam, turning the wooden cube between her fingers, "I thought we lost it."

It had been a good seventy or eighty years since Natalia last saw the wooden piece. In her last life.