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The Bureau of the Architect was bustling at this time of day, and if Azem were there to see anyone else, they would have expected to blend into the background among all the other souls and be all but ignored. Hythlodaeus, however, was the exception, given his strength in soul sight and the familiarity between them, and so it came as no surprise when the architect leaving his office as they approached told them that he was already waiting for them.
"Morning, Chief," Azem greeted their partner brightly as they entered his office.
Despite apparently expecting them, Hythlodaeus's face still lit up upon seeing them.
"Why, good morning, Honorable Traveler," he teased. "What can I do for you?"
Azem closed the door behind them and sauntered up to his desk, perching casually on the edge and letting their legs swing playfully. With their hood up, their thick black braid had nowhere to go but over their shoulder, but they made sure it didn't swing so wildly as to knock anything over. They weren't here to bother him today. On the contrary, they needed his help.
"You know Lahabrea?" they asked, pulling a bunch of grapes out of their robe as an impromptu snack and offering him some.
Hythlodaeus said nothing, but took a few grapes without breaking eye contact. They knew him well enough to know he was raising an eyebrow under his mask as his lips curved into a curious grin. Everyone knew Lahabrea.
"And his fire spirit concept?" they continued.
"Ifrita?" Hythlodaeus popped a grape in his mouth.
"That's the one!" they said, snapping their fingers in excitement. "Can I have it?"
"You want access to Lahabrea's masterpiece?" he asked, his raised eyebrow probably not getting any lower. "Why?"
"Convocation business," Azem said. "Well"—they waved a hand—"not all of the Convocation are aware of it yet, and I'd prefer if we could keep it that way for the time being. You know me: act first, refuse to ask for forgiveness later..."
Hythlodaeus tried to feign exasperation.
"Are you ever not getting into trouble?" he asked—but they knew he loved them for it. And anyway, his words had no bite given that they both knew his lectures had nothing on Hades's, and so they paid his pretense no mind and flashed him a brilliant smile.
"Of course not! How do you think I earned my seat?"
That earned a chuckle from Hythlodaeus. There was little he could argue with in that regard.
Instead, he leaned in slightly and asked, "Dare I ask what's in it for me?"
"Oral?" Azem suggested shamelessly, tossing a few more grapes in their mouth. "Or I could transform my bits into whatever you'd like and take you however you want when we get home. Or you could take me—"
"You'd do all that anyway if I asked nicely." He ate a grape directly from Azem's hand, being sure to catch their fingers with his lips while giving them a playful smirk that threw them off long enough to get briefly lost in his eyes before they remembered where they were.
"You're right; I would," they sighed in a melodramatic display of concession to hide their momentary loss of composure. "I'm so good to you, aren't I? Well, if that's not enough to whet your appetite, then the only other things I can offer are that you'd be helping save the lives and livelihood of a few hundred people, and"—they wiggled the vine in their hand—"making sure these absolutely delicious grapes don't go extinct."
Even under the mask, Azem could see his face blanch as he righted himself.
"Oh," he said softly. "You're serious. Does Hades know?"
"He knows a volcano is going to erupt and destroy a village if—when—the Convocation elects to sit and watch," they said, matching his tone. "He doesn't know I plan to stop it. You know how he is. As much as we love him, he can be just like the rest of them when it comes down duty." They paused, and then added, "I suppose I can be like that, too, except that my duty is currently in conflict with that of the other thirteen."
Hythlodaeus was silent for a long moment, absentmindedly taking another grape while he started off into space, lost in thought. Finally, he pulled out a keyring with a sigh and started riffling through its contents, making sure one fell ostentatiously to his desk while he pretended to pay it no mind.
"By Zodiark, would you believe it? I can't seem to find the key to that particular vault," he lied. "I suppose there's no way I can help you."
With a twitch of their fingers, the fallen key found its way into Azem's pocket. They leaned down and placed a kiss on his forehead.
"You've a good soul," they murmured.
As they stood up and began towards the door, they heard Hythlodaeus say in a barely audible voice, "Please don't make me regret this, Aegle."
They turned toward him and tilted their head quizzically.
"What a strange thing to say about hundreds of lives."
When Azem reached the door, they gave him a theatrical bow before leaving him at the mercy of the line of architects who had gathered waiting to meet with him, doubtless with endless questions and requests for their Chief. And they thought their own job was hard.