When the morning was still dark, Damien made his way down the garland-roped staircase. He entered the kitchen where he knew Thanatos would be taking breakfast and coffee.
Thanatos was a man of many rituals. Breakfast was at the same time each morning, though he did not eat. He would read his newspaper and then go over his itinerary for the day, which was always as follows:
Thanatos would work there at the table, taking phone calls and managing appointments until lunch, which, unlike breakfast, Damien had the option to forgo, so long as he was in the library or doing a Thanatos-approved,productivephysical activity.
After lunch, Thanatos would assign Damien a task or a challenge which was expected to be completed by tea time, during which, Death would consume nothing except black tea. They would meet in the atrium to discuss how the activity went. Thanatos might suggest a different approach or a different task altogether, but they were only suggestions.
Then, after teatime, he would leave to do his runs, which were only ever defined as meetings or errands, but were always classified as runs. He had to run off to a meeting, or he had errands to run, though, Damien had never seen Thanatos move any faster than a hastened walk at best.
No matter what Thanatos had going on, he always returned in enough time to have dinner, whatever may be on the menu, prepared by seven every evening. Thanatos always cooked by hand an elaborate meal for supper (breakfast, lunch, and afternoon tea were always materialized), but again, he never ate a crumb. Dinner was the time when Thanatos could give his son his undivided attention. This time was to give Damien space to say whatever was on his mind, which happened rarely, so the meals were filled with awkward silence. Every night after dinner, they would work on Damien’s studies.
Day one of the week was piano. Death was a strict instructor, and would rap Damien’s knuckles if he missed a note. Day two was originally language, until Death realized there wasn’t a language Damien did not understand, then the day was given to art history. Day three was history-according-to-Thanatos, because most authors had a biased view of history, and his version was objective. Day four was economics and mathematics. Damien understood basic math, and Death thought both subjects accompanied each other quite nicely. Day five became martial arts, after Thanatos learned his son became aggressive and hostile after being bored all day during the previous lesson. Day six was literature, because Damien was much more placid after a day of physical activity, and he was very keen on philosophical concepts and enjoyed reading. Day seven was spirit etiquette, given that Damien’s social skills were not just rough, but distorted to say the least, and he had no concept of how to properly address demons or gods. Damien hated this lesson, which is why it was tucked between literature and piano.
But this week and next, Damien was on holiday. The dark half of the year was Death’s busy season, and he needed the extra time to deal with clients and host the Yuletide ball, and Damien needed a break from constant study to reflect, as hard as that might be for him.
Damien sulked into the kitchen and awaited instruction. He stood in front of the blank spot on the wall, where the basement door had been in the mansion Thanatos resided in a few months ago.
“Sit down, Damien.” Thanatos did not look up from his paper.
Damien did as he was told.
Thanatos then folded his paper. “Let me explain to you why I was displeased with your actions last night.”
Damien folded his hands in his lap and listened.
“The rules I have put in place exist for two reasons. Reason one being that your mental state is fragile and needs a strict routine to keep your mind from... wandering. You and I both need this break from your studies, but I will find the time to reinstate them if Hypnos is going to be an issue.”
Damien jumped to Hypnos’s defense. “But, he’s Dream. He’s the unconscious. How would spending time with him be detrimental to my fragile state? If anything, spending that kind of time, literally inside my own mind, would be productive.” But Damien had already anticipated what he assumed would be Death’s rebuttal and asked, “Except that in the dark wood of the subconscious, there be dragons I’m not yet equipped to handle?”
Death’s head tilted slightly. “No. It’s less to do with your capabilities and more to do with Hypnos being an utterly selfish idiot.”
Damien raised a judgmental eyebrow at Death.
Death said, “The second of the two reasons is that the Fates had you locked away in Tartarus because of your power. We cannot give them any reason to make that call again if they return, which they will. No one questions them when they cry wolf. And, Damien, in your case they wouldn’t bother to crywolf. They’d cry apocalypse, and it’s no wonder with you killing gods in your sleep.”
“It was just a game Hypnos wanted to play. I didn’t know.”
“You didn’t know? He who was just proclaiming the power of Dream did not know it was anything more than just a mere dream? See, this is the problem- You and Hypnos cannot comprehend the severity-”
“The severity?” Damien gave him a crooked smile. “How severe is it when you can just have Hypnos make a new one? And I could have just made a new one?”
“But, could you have, though?” Death asked. “Without tricking yourself into believing it was commanded or wished out of you? You still don’t have any control over your mind or your magick, and you do not understand what profound effect your magick might have on the balance of things. I need you to understand that if killing a god was a game to you, then your entire respect for reality is out of proportion.”
Damien smiled at this cosmic joke. “Even when free, my magick’s not mine, and I’m still a monster.”
“Yes. Well, at least you’re in like company.” Thanatos sipped his coffee then waved a hand. A plate of eggs and peanut butter toast appeared along with a bowl of oatmeal, decorated with fruit and nuts.
Damien didn’t mind the meal laid out before him; however, he did notice that once again, instead of coffee, Thanatos had given him warm water with lemon. He looked up to see Thanatos was sporting a knowing smirk while sipping his own cup of coffee. Damien moved his folded hands to the table and leaned in. “What does a guy have to do to get a decent cup of coffee around here?”
Thanatos set down his coffee. “If you can successfully keep away from Hypnos for an extended period of time, let’s say two weeks-If you can go the remainder of the holiday without running off with him, you may have one cup of coffee in the mornings. And might I suggest you follow your table manners as well?” Thanatos looked him dead in the eyes. “Elbows.”
Damien didn’t break eye contact as he slipped his elbows off the table. “Deal.”
