Hades Doctor

Sleep

"You have a high fever." I start awkwardly standing for a while before nearing the bed.

"Fevers can be caused by infections from injuries..."After hesitating for a moment I threw caution to the wind and bit the bullet peaking in through velvet curtains.

The god of the Underworld held a scroll in between long pale fingers, amber eyes immersed in its contents. His face was smoothed out, loosing their cold and oppressive feeling in the midst of being focused and preoccupied, but the serious expression never lost its arrogance.

"...so you have any?" I brace myself to meet the enchanting eyes but yet I was baffled and silently scolded my weak spine.

"No."

The single word seems to reverberate through my bones, the cold undertones to his voice like hidden daggers and I retrieve my neck.

And realising how uncooperative he was, I skip to the open door with a spontaneous idea. "You wouldn't mind if I go out for a bit." But I had thought he would have never acknowledge it.

"Running away." It echoed through the room, but yet it felt incomplete as if the god himself did not know whether it was a question or a fact.

And I didn't turn back knowing that he remained hidden and pad out closing the door behind me gently.

Outside I met a sneering face of one among the many who had been previously outside the same door.

"Don't get lost!" The man still calls out despite his obvious dislike as I walk away in confident steps when in reality I kept to the left side of the wall to later retrace back to the starting line.

Not long later I caught sight of a group of people talking cheerfully and my ears pick up two words distinctly, one being doctor and the other weird.

The crowd was made up of seperate people, but in the end when they took notice of an outsider they grew the same head fully ignoring my presence and silently praying for me to go away.

And it made my mission hard to accomplish with only few wanting to listen to me and only handful of them obliging to reply.

"Our Lord rarely leaves the palace, but-" The maid I was questioning after a full five minutes of coaxing hesitated lowering her already soft voice to a whisper. "I have heard from older workers that a few centuries back, our Lord loved visiting earth, but then he suddenly stopped and no one knows why."

"Our Lord is very devoted to his work and hardly ever rests...it might be the reason he shuts himself off in his home."

And in the end it was the thought shared by almost all the helpful souls who I talked to and while I returned to his bedchambers I had my own conclusions. But with little information to diagnose his illness by his reluctance to comply I could only jump between guesses and doubts.

Exhaustion and fatigue was a long standing enemy for the workaholic, sometimes even severely deteriorating their health. But it was not a human being that I was made to treat, but a greek god, so could it really be that simple?

The sturdy guard by the door straightened his posture when I turned the corner coming into his view, and I fought back a smile which I then moulded into a grimace that he met with his own.

I pushed open the door and only after I barge in do I realize my rudeness and pause my steps bracing myself if the god's temper was stroked.

"I am back." I say while noticing two baskets and a basin filled to the brim by water."Your workers brought the things I asked for. I will get to it then." And I had almost gotten used to talking to a stone sculpture.