Arcelio sat on his throne. The only sound being the silence that sought its way through the room.

The God of Riches. He held more power than most would expect. After all, riches were what most people strived to gain in this world. And he had the most.

Though, no riches could compare to the lives he lost. To the people he had lost to gain such a position. He would have given anything to see their faces again. Arcelio would do anything to see his mother's face again. And he would especially do anything to see his sweet girl, his Noelle, his daughter. Before she had been taken from him.

But what he wanted mattered little now. And now, here this mortal were. A little human. Apart of his cult— all the way at the bottom of the power hungry hierarchy. Arcelio doesn't quite know exactly why they were here. But they claimed to have something very important to tell him. And why would the God of Riches let something rich lay to waste?

"What exactly do you have to say to me?" Arcelio mused. His voice sounded like pure silk, a neutral expression on his face as he gazed at them. Arcelio's gaze turning to a portrait— one of a child. A beautiful little girl with blue-green eyes. A prized possession he allowed nobody to touch, and for unknown reasons.

"Well?" Arcelio prompted, crossing one leg over the other on his throne as he awaited a reply.