The murky water laps up and almost touches the soles of my shoes. The dark gray stones of the shore are wet witha thick gelatinous coating, making them slippery under my feet. I shuffle back slightly to avoid letting its poison get too close. One drop could kill me.
The landscape is dead and soft at the edges. There is no bright white here, there is no pure black either. Just a world composed of shades of gray. Purgatory.
I assumed it would be awful here, that it would be full of pain and suffering, but it’s actually still and peaceful. I close my eyes for a moment and let the silence engulf me. Finding my way here has taken me halfway across a world! never knew existed. Now that I've witnessed what purgatory is like, I'm pretty sure it would satisfy me to exist with its blank, empty feeling. It’s better than the darkness that has taken over. It is a comforting contrast to the Mavri Magea apartment. Trying to reforge a cursed blade and block out the pitiful whining of my sisters locked in their rooms has been exhausting.
Fabricating the blade has not only consumed every waking moment. It has also filled the nightmares during my rare periods of sleep for the last three days.
“Don't get comfortable here, Kas,” Lex warns, “There is still a lot of work to do. Losing yourself in this place is dangerous.”
“Just a fantasy, I suppose,” I sigh at her,
"It doesn't really matter, Lex. I'm already lost. I can feel it in my soul.”
“We've still got this. Just hang in there,” she comforts me. '
I look out at the water and watch the souls trapped under the glasslike surface. They try to rise, but cannot break the surface and sink again. Their beautiful, sallow skin reminds me of what my own has become. The eyes of the dead are clouded over with a fuzzy pale gray coating, which makes me wonder if they know what they are trying to escape from.
What if they're better off here and they just don't realize it? How pathetic were the lives they must have lived to be stuck here for eternity? Not allowed into the underworld, not allowed into the kingdom of the dead. Would I suffer the same fate at the end of my spirit’s journey? Would I finally feel relief in a place like this or will my suffering continue?
I don’t know how long I've been standing here. It may be five minutes. It may be five years. Time doesn’t seem to matter when you stand on the shore of the River Styx. The only thing that matters is that my meeting is successful.
I try to look out past the fog, but it is like thin layers of gauzy fabric. Each layer on its own is thin, but stacked against each other, unpenetrable. I wrap the thick black cloak closer to my body and pull the hood down to hide my eyes when the bow of a boat cutting silently through the dark water full of lost souls becomes visible.
There’s no noise when the boat runs ashore. A bearded man with a limp and a brimless hat climbs off the boat using a flimsy plank of wood and stands on the shore. His gravely voice interrupts the comforting silence, “Do you need passage to the underworld?”
“Yes. Are you Charon?” I ask calmly. I have read too many stories of evil spirits trying to escape the underworld to trust he is who he says he is.
“It is one name I go by. Do you have payment for the ferryman?” He asks in a gruff voice, holding out his hand.
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I pull two golden coins out of my pocket and lay them in his hand. He wraps his fingers around them and rubs them with his thumb until they disappear into his skin. There is a soft glow, showing he has accepted my payment. He looks up and gives me a creepy smile, “A deity? A child of the Olympians?”
I'm not prepared for him to know what I am. I pause, then nod my head without raising my hood.
“Please come aboard, child of the Gods,” he walks up a plank onto the boat and holds his hand out for me to take.
I climb up the rickety plank and stand near the middle of the boat while he prepares to launch from the shore. I keep as still as possible as we make our way across the endless river. Screams and cries from the underworld get louder as we glide across the water. Jagged stone mountains, back-lit by fires, cut through the thick fog.
The sight of souls trying to grab at the boat makes my lip curl in disgust. The Spirits I was just jealous of for being able to live in this place are now revolting to me. I want to reach out and kick at them with my heels.
“Control, Kas,” Lex hums quietly in my mind, “We need her help. You need to have control.” '
I nod internally and adjust my cloak, forcing myself to stay at the center of the boat and remain as still as I can.
It seems like an eternity before we reach the other side. A familiar man standing on the shore greets us. His white hair contrasted by his solid black eyes and permanent sneer give away his identity. Hades and his three- headed dog, Cerberus, are awaiting my arrival.
“Daughter of Selene,” he bows and holds his hand out to help me off the boat. I hesitate, not sure that I should trust of the God of the Underworld.
“Oh, come off it, lokaste,” he rolls his eyes in frustration, “You're not getting to Melinoé’s part of this realm without me and my dear brother insists I need to help you after your terrific power play on Mount Olympus.”
“Melinoé?” I ask. I push my hood back and let him see my face, “I am grateful for your help, but I'm here to see Mesperyian, Sir.”
“Yes, yes, that is what they call her in the modern world. Much more intimidating sounding, isn’t it?” He says, sounding annoyed, “It isn’t her given name. I take it you have a payment for her?”
“I do, Sir,” I press my arm closer to my chest, securing the leather sheath under my cloak.
“Ecch. Enough with the ‘Sir’ bullshit. Call me Hades,” he says, waving to me to follow him.
We walk through a maze of twists and turns for miles until I'm hopelessly lost in among obsidian stone mountains. He is quiet for some time, but eventually stops and turns back to look at me.
“How can I help you?” he sneers, looking down his nose at me.
I feel my eyes shift back and forth, finding it difficult to look at him, “E-excuse me, Hades? Help me with what?”
“I'm not stupid, Iokaste. You may be the only one who can fix this problem with the Manae, but it effects all the Gods and Goddesses. Including me. So how can I help?”
“I-I'm going to need more energy for what I plan to attempt,” I lower my head in respect.
“Ah. That’s right. Energy vampire. Quite the power move to pull my brother's energy," his sneer turns into a satisfied smile, "The power from the God of Thunder. That isn’t enough?”
“I won't know for sure until after I speak with the Goddess Melinoé, but to be successful, I know I’m going to need unprecedented amounts of power. What I have taken so far, well, I think it may be killing me. I don’t know how much longer I will survive if she doesn't agree to help me.”
“How dark of a path are you willing to follow, Iokaste?” he says earnestly, with his hands clasped in front of him.
I consider his words for a moment before I answer, “My heart still wants to go home to my pack after this is all said and done, Hades. I can’t do that if I reach a point of no return.”
"That's what I needed to hear,” He looks at me with what I assume is compassion and holds out his hand, “ Take what you need.”
“W-what?” I look at his hand, then up into his onyx eyes.
“You won't be able to do this with all that pure white fluffy bullshit energy you have collected. You're going to need as much dark energy as possible, so take what you need. Just don’t fucking bleed me dry, child.”
I tentatively take his hand and feel him willingly release his dark, angry energy for me. I close my eyes and take a deep, satisfying breath as it fills me and calms my spirit. When I open my eyes, Hades looks much older and much more tired than he did before.
Ireluctantly release his hand and give him a small smile, “Thank you, Hades.”
“You're welcome,” his voice sounds strained. He points to a steel door carved into the side of a boulder, “Here we are. Good luck, daughter of Selene.
This quest is yours alone, but we are all counting on you to succeed. Even the little bitch behind that door, regardless of what she says.” '
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I watch him walk away and look at the door. Did he just call his own daughter a bitch?
Before I can knock on the door, it swings open. A grungy snake scaled hand grabs my wrist and pulls me inside and slams the door behind me. It takes my eyes a moment as Lex adjusts to the darkened room. There are various torture devices and tools hanging from the ceiling and displayed around the room. A groaning sound comes from an iron maiden in the corner. The floor is slightly sticky when I try to lift my feet.
“What do you want from me, daughter of Selene?” a croaking voice croaks asks. The woman isn’t wearing any clothes, but she doesn’t need to. Her features are reptilian to a point that she looks like a giant lizard. She has an elongated head with sharp teeth sticking out at all angles from a mouth with no lips. There is no end to the depths of her black eyes. '
“Melinoé? Or do you prefer Mesperyian?” I ask, trying to show her some respect.
“What. Do. You. Want?” she hisses at me in her croaky tone.
So it’s like that. I'll play along. I'm not afraid to go toe to toe with the Goddess o f Torture because at this point, what do [have to lose.
“I thought everyone knew by now, Melinoé,” roll my eyes at her. 1 wave my hand casually, “I want you to tell me how to make more Waiting Rooms.”
She looks at me blankly, then flicks her forked tongue out of her mouth before she gives a disdainful laugh that pierces my ears, “That's your plan? Trap the rest of the Manae in torture chambers?”
“What I choose to do with the chambers is not your concern,” I growl. Hades was right, she is a bitch, “If you're not willing to help, then I've wasted my time coming here. I have enough resources to figure it out on my own. Thank you for your time. Have a nice life.”
I back away toward the door, not trusting her to turn my back on her.
“No wait! Don't leave,” she rushes forward and puts her hands up. She sounds almost desperate, “Do you have anything to give me as payment for my services? Don't go yet.”
Gotcha, bitch.
I pull the leather sheath out of my cloak and slide the cursed blade out carefully. Avoiding touching the silver to my skin. Her eyes widen when she sees it. “Is that-” she stammers.
“It is. And I have reforged it. It is no longer fragmented. If you help me and don’t double cross me, it’s yours. The first moment I feel you have deceived me, the blade dissolves into a useless pile of rust.”
“You cursed a cursed object? You're more wicked than I gave you credit for,” A lopsided smile graces her scaly features, “I'll help you.” '
"I was hoping you would say that," I give her a lopsided smile of my own and throw my cloak over her to transport us to our first destination.