“Okay recruits, that's enough resting. Back to work!” Deadrius said pacing back and forth over the training grounds. “On my signal you’ll do set five followed by set three.”
The younglings begrudgingly stood up and readied their practise weapons. It was a hot day in the underworld. The sun was relentless, and the air was heavy and uncomfortable. All the young recruits wanted to do is hide out in the shade of their barracks and wait for this heatwave to be over. But instead they were being tormented with hours of rigorous training and exercise. 
“Ready?” Deadrius' eyes quickly darterd around the group. “Now!”
The boys started executing a series of stabs, swings and blocks, all the while trying to maintain their balance. Every now and then Deadrius could see one of the boys missing a swing.

“Master Deadrius?!” A voice said from behind. Deadrius spun around to see who had called his name. It was one of the scrawny servants from Hades’ House. He was standing just oustide the fence surounding the training field. 
“What is it?” Deadrius said rather coldly. It was too hot for nonesense. Besides the progress of the recruits, or rather the lack their off, frustrated Deadrius to no end. 
“I’ve been tasked with informing you that your presence has been requested in the Hall of Masters” the servant said nervously. He could tell Deadrius was in a bad mood and he knew how the combat master felt about these meetings. 
“As you can clearly see I’m busy right now,” Deadrius gestured to the group of struggling younglings.
“I’m sorry, but I was told it was rather urgent,” the servant took an involuntary step back.
“Fine, then you tell me what I am to do with this lackluster bunch?” Deadrius said, crossing his arms.
“Uhm… I believe someone has been sent to fetch captain Kadmilos to replace you,”
“ooooooh you believe. Then of course it's fine. Because there is no way you wrong about that, is there?" Deadrius said sarcasticly. The servant had no idea how to respond. He was only doing as he was told. "sir?" he stammed. 
"You know what, fine. I don't have patience for these sorry excuses of warriors anyway" Deadrius sneered. He then started pacing away from the field and towards the city. Leaving behind a group of confused recruits and a flusterd servant. "at least i won't have to deal with this damned heat anymore." Deadrius mutterd to himself. 

After their defeat against the humans, the Iros sought refuge in the domain of the last remaining dragon, Hades. They built a small city around the House of Hades, which they named 'Refuge'. Initialy it had been a collection of hastily put together huts, but over the years, as the population began to grow, the city expanded massively. The Iros built every facility they could ever need. Farms to provide their food, weapons forges to produce their weapons and many more. The city stretched as far as the eye could see. In the middle of it all stood the House of Hades, still as impressive as it had been on the day it was built. As Deadrius paced his way through the endlessly winding roads of Refuge, he pondered what could have happened to cause the Masters of Hades to call for a sudden meeting. Normally they only gathered once a month to discuss the events in and around Refuge. On any other day they were busy leading their respective fields. In total there were five masters: Dimitrios master of farming, Rafail master of healing, Kratos master of smithing, Demosthenes the grand master and, lastly, Deadrius master of combat.

Deadrius entered the palace and made his way to the large doors that granted entrance to the Hall of Masters. He pushed them open with a little more force then he intended resulting in a loud bang as the door slammed against the wall. 
The hall consisted only of a large table with six seats around it. The seat on the head of the table was significantly larger than the other five. This seat was designated for Hades himself, but it was rarely used. As Hades usually let the masters take care of the city without his interference. Only on special occasions or real emergencies would he join. 
Spread across the walls of the hall were five doors. On the other end of those doors were smaller rooms that served as private offices for each of the five  masters. The hall was lit by a massive chandelier that hung directly from the ceiling in the middle of the hall. Once Deadrius entered the hall he could see that four of the seats were already taken. The other masters quietly stared him down as he sat down in the last seat.
“Deadrius, what took you so long?” Demosthenes said, “We’ve been waiting for you.”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I was doing, Demosthenes." Deadrius said curdly "After all, you were the one who ordered me to take over the younglings’ training while general Epimachus is sick.”
“Ah yes, of course! Tell me Deadrius, how are they coming along?”
“Absolutely horrendous. They wouldn’t be able to defeat a human if it were missing an arm and a leg—even despite us having a much tougher skin than they do,” Deadrius spat.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll pick it up in due time,” Rafail spoke calmly.
“Let us hope they do, for all our sakes.” Deadrius said. “If the stories of our ancestors are true, it’s inevitable that the humans will eventually find us.”
“And by Zeus, we’ll be ready when they do!” Kratos exclaimed while pounding his fist on the table.
“We’ll see about that…” Demosthenes said grimly.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Deadrius said.
“If what you just told us is true, we could be in major trouble.” Everyone in the room could feel the tension rise as Demosthenes said this. “After all, students take after their teachers. And you Deadrius are supposed to be our best soldier.”
Deadrius’s hand unconsciously slid to the hilt of his sword, “Do not provoke me” he growled.
Demosthenes shrugged his shoulders, “All I'm saying is: I would have expected more from Leonidas’s prodigy,”
Deadrius could feel his insides boiling. This had been going on for nearly two months now. No matter what he did, no matter how hard Deadrius tried, Demosthenes seemed to think that nobody was good enough after the passing of his beloved Leonidas. He was always finding ways to put other Iros down. Usually Deadrius would try to keep his cool. But today he already was in a bad mood to begin with, and this pushed him over the edge. 
“I’ll show you what I can do, old man” he snapped as he threw back his chair. The soft hissing of steel on hardened leather could be heard as Deadrius smoothly drew his sword. A motion he had done so many times in the past but rarely with the intent of fighting another Iros. 
Demosthenes may have made a mockery of Deadrius’ skills in the past, but he wouldn’t dare cross blades with the young Iros. He had seen his near godlike swordsmanship many times before. Leonidas had been so proud of his small Deadrius; he wouldn’t stop bragging about him.
Demosthenes quickly stood up and started to back away, realizing he had gone too far.
“That won’t be necessary now,” his voice was almost an octave higher than it usually was.
“Two months now!" Deadrius shouted "I’ve been a master for two months and all you’ve done is disrespect me, Demosthenes. I know I’m not father, but this has got to stop now.” He was nearly shaking with anger.
 
Suddenly a wave of cold air swept through the room, causing both Demosthenes and Deadrius to stop dead in their tracks.
“We aren’t fighting now, are we?” Hades’ voice was always terrifying; it had that tone of complete disinterest that was so typical of the gods. Yet, it was oozing with authority.

“Lord Hades! Of course not. We’re…” Demosthenes squirmed. But Hades interrupted him before he could finish “Quiet. I don’t have the time to deal with such nonsense. And quite frankly, I don’t care,”
Dimitrios shifted in his seat uncomfortably.
“Deadrius, come with me. I need to speak with you,” Hades continued,
“The rest of you can go back to whatever it was you were doing,”
“Lord Hades?” Demosthenes said, confused.
Deadrius bowed reverently, “Of course my lord,”
“Good,” Hades said. Then he turned around and made his way out.
Deadrius shot one last glare at Demosthenes before hurrying after Hades.

Deadrius had seen the doors of Hades before, every young boy had. But there had always been at least a single soldier guarding the door to prevent people from using them.So to see them deserted was strange.
Before they were sealed, the doors could take someone anywhere they needed to go. They served as one of the two gateways to the underworld. Now the Styx, one of the five underworld rivers, was the only way in.

Deadrius took a deep breath. “A true warrior never lets his fears get to him,” He repeated Leonidas’ words to himself. He placed one hand on the doors.
“Only a member of the Masters or me can break the seal. But once it’s broken, it has to be reapplied by either me or all of the Masters combined. This means that until you return the gates are open. That is why I have to ask: Did you make sure no one followed you like I told you?” said Hades. Deadrius whipped around startled.
“Lord Hades! I didn’t realize you were coming,”
“You didn’t answer my question,” Hades said.
“I was careful, no one could have seen me leave,”
“Good. Then let us not waste any more time. Remember everything you’ll need you’ll find in that bag. Once you reach the human world find a place called Gressenheim University. You’ll be expected there. And, finally, my influence up there is limited since the war. I did what I could to help you, but once you’re there I’m afraid you’re on your own. Don’t fail me, Deadrius”
“Yes, lord Hades,” Deadrius said bowing down.
“Good luck,” Hades said, and with the blink of an eye he vanished into the shadows.

Deadrius turned back around and placed his hand on the doors once more. He closed his eyes and uttered: “Fére me ópou prépei na páo gia álli mia forá.”
The door, which had previously been more like a wall, softly slid open.
A strong gust of wind and rain hit Deadrius in the face.
Deadrius jumped when a roaring thunder filled the air. 
Deadrius gulped; he had never seen a storm this bad.
The underworld did have rain and even storms, but not quite to this magnitude.
The realization that he would have to face this weather was offputting to say the least. But he couldn’t just wait it out, there was no telling when the guards would come back to guard the doors.
With a heavy heart, Deadrius stepped through the door and into the storm.
Deadrius looked up to the sky, the large raindrops splashing his face.
The sky was completely black, only the occasional lightning strike would change that. Another roaring thunder filled the air. He took another deep breath as he was taking in the situation. 

Deadrius had never seen a real human, but he knew  roughly what they looked like from paintings. They had smooth skin instead of scales. but other than that, they looked pretty similar to Iros.
“Okay, let’s do this,” Deadrius said to himself. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his mental image of a human. A strange sensation spread across Deadrius’ body, much like a wave spreading across a lake. And, when he opened his eyes again, he could see his skin had changed, his scales had been replaced by a smooth beige skin. Although, the color was  a bit hard to see in the raging weather. On his back still perked his black feathered wings, wich were a blessing from Hades for when he became a master, as he would need them for now. And he was still wearing his armor as he had no idea what humans dressed like these days. 

“I am going to need to find shelter immediately,” he said to himself.
Deadrius spread his wings and pushed off the ground.
The wind however, was much stronger than he anticipated. A new gust of wind got a hold of him and blew him straight against the cliff where the doors had been. His head smashed against the hard rocks. Dearius fell to the ground and lost consciousness.