◆︎ Assorodus ◆︎⌛︎◆︎ Morpheus ◆︎ The Sandman ◆︎

V.

The little critter stirred restlessly on my palm, impatient to fly. I placed my hand over her wings and she stilled, twisting her neck to look up at me. She was gorgeous, dissimilar to any other of them, wearing a white vest of feathers across her chest. When I choose her I didn't think she would turn out like this, seemingly she retained something from her mortal life that the previous ravens did not, giving her such distinct features.

Lucienne awaited me by the palace gates, along with the three gatekeepers. I told her ahead of time to anticipate me.

"Is this who I think it is?" She leaned closer, peering between my fingers. "My, she is a beauty."

"Her name is Jessamy." The bird kept to herself, dubious and somewhat fearful. Only hours ago she passed in her sleep and woke up as a raven in the Dreaming. This new world around her was new and uncertain. "Jessamy, this is Lucienne."

"You selected her too? Like Aristeas?" Lucienne showed us the way.

"I did." The gothic corridors welcomed me as a regular guest, halls opened up for us. "How is he?"

"As you would expect." Halting in front of a door Lucienne nodded towards it. "This is where he had his chambers set up now."

Strange, I couldn't point out what was unusual about the way we came, but as Lucienne mentioned it, it all made sense.

"He switched rooms?"

"Switched the whole wing. Mervyn was especially happy about that."

He was grieving over a loss that shouldn't have happened, I understood.

"Well, I have something to make him feel better." My fingers closed around the doorknob. "Jessamy will be the last, she will be forever."

My body is made of freezing water, glaciers collide in it, shaping, and building my inner turmoil. I let the cold London wind besiege my form as I tread through the glistening wet, slippery glass towards the cathedral. The weather insist on being horrible and only turned for the worse upon my arrival. It mirrors my mood without failure as the sudden visit of the Kindly Ones vividly replays in my mind. What they were implying by telling me that Morpheus prepares for Hell is still a mystery, yet one thing is clear, they must have an ulterior motive, a thread hidden in their tapestry to propel the universe forward. No matter how close I am to them in rank, they wouldn't give anything away unless it serves a purpose for them. Something brews on the horizon and I find myself to be truly uncertain. I tug on the neck of my coat, it provides little to no warmth, not that the icy air bothers me, I just miss the comfort of it. Between destinations I changed my attire, not wanting to stick out, but not many loiter around, it's too late for that.

I still haven't figured out how I am going to present myself to him. I don't turn up in the mortal world by accident, especially not right by his side, he will assume that I'm here for him. I shouldn't let him on though, best to keep this as a secret without offending the Fates. No matter what their plan might be, it's not Morpheus' to know, nor it is mine. What's written in Destiny's book cannot be changed or foreseen, we must not fight against the current. In my heart, I wish I could offer to go to Hell for his helm instead of him, but that would mean that I'm interfering with Endless affairs, something I'm not permitted to do. Though helping him is not far from that either. The rekindled flame of protection towards him burns lonely in the glacier-wastes of my soul.

"You too now?" Without notice, I almost pass by the old woman, even though she is within arm's reach of me. I descry the face that fends off the iron teeth of time as years give way to years, complemented by her usual choice of headwear, a straw hat, decorated by a little, wilted flower.