The Keeper's Assistant

For the Keeper of the Dead, Halloween was the best time of the year. The fake skeletons and tombstones were a little tacky, but the parties were otherworldly.

Balor breathed in the scent of hot apple cider and too-sweet candy as he wandered around the crowd, raising his glass with a laugh whenever someone made a joke—not that the mortal party-goers could see him, but it was all a part of the charade. As he tipped more of the spiced drink down his throat, he sauntered into the living room and sprawled out on the couch, head spinning with the tail end of adrenaline and an overload of sugar.

"Time to go now?" He murmured, glancing at the rusted pocket watch tucked in his coat. "S'pose so..."

With a reluctant sigh, Balor sat up and closed his eyes, letting his lightheadedness twirl him away from the present.

As his eyes slid open, Balor was immediately sobered. Coolness settled onto his skin and he yawned boredly as his hands reflexively clutched the arms of the dark, wooden throne beneath him. He glanced at the familiar, cavernous room around him, already missing the stale warmth of the party house. He turned to the reflecting bowl beside him, ready to summon himself to another of his favorite haunts. Those enchantresses on Broadway sure do know how to have a good time...

He paused as he noticed a tall figure standing near the room's entrance.

"Keeper Balor," the figure greeted disdainfully, her voice echoing around the room as she drew closer. "What have you been up to this evening?"

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. He supposed Etana's superiority as the "true" ruler of the Underworld should have intimidated him.

"What, can't have a little fun?" Balor barked out a laugh. "It's the greatest night of the year!"

"If this was only an annual occurrence, I might let it slide," Etana grumbled. "But every day? This is getting out of hand and I'm through with it."

The man just slouched slightly in his seat and inspected his nails, chuckling to himself. "It's not as if you can get rid of me, Tan. You've got no one better suited for this than yours truly. Besides, I always get everything done. I'm a master of multi-tasking, doll."

"As if." Etana let out a soft sigh, lowering her head to pull her long black locks into a ponytail. "I've decided to assign you an assistant."

"You... What?"

As she straightened again, hair now tied neatly away, Etana clapped her hands twice. The door of the throne room opened to emit a scrawny-looking man, his brown hair tousled in disarray. His smile was polite but hesitant as he hurried to stand beside the woman.

"This is Corwin. I've selected him for the position."

"I don't need a sidekick," Balor growled, his glare shifting between the two. "I work alone; I always have."

"Alone hasn't been cutting it," Etana snapped.

"Then let me prove you wrong."

The woman let out another sigh before crossing her arms. "Fine. There's a pair of lovers that needs your help reuniting. Accomplish the task and I'll consider letting you keep your post without an assistant."

Balor couldn't help but cringe at the prospect. Lovers? This is the Underworld, for gods' sake. There's no place for romance here. He bit back a snappy response and nodded. "As you wish, Tan."

"That's Mistress Etana to you," the woman growled before turning on her heel and strutting out of the room.

Grumbling to himself, Balor stepped down from his throne and stumbled to a small niche in the wall. He rifled through his choices of cloaks before pausing on a hooded one just barely different from the others; the inner lining was red, instead of his usual green. Red for romance, and red for 'reaffirm my greatness.'