Discordant Origin - a Nozdormi Myth

"Here we are, Faunus," whispered a well-tanned young man, clad in winged sandals and a winged helm atop curly auburn hair to a large satyr, with a broken horn, pallid skin and dark hair, shrouded in a cloak that seemed to shift colors with the surroundings, obscuring him from unwary eyes. They both looked up at a pair of massive, rusted, steel gates sealed with a gargantuan skeleton, arms spread wide, bound to the metal with chains that seemed to be made with the very essence of darkness. "The gates to the underworld, domain of Hades…"

"I can understand why Eris came to you for this job, Hermes, but why did you accept that cold bitch's offer? And more importantly, why in almighty Zeus's name did you bring me along?" grumbled the satyr, Faunus, back to the god of thieves, Hermes. The young god gave a small smile.

"Well, my Caduceus was broken recently, and Eris, when she saw it, told me she could get it fixed, but she needed a favor. I asked Hephaestus, and he told me he couldn't help me… So here I am. And I brought you along because I know you love a good heist." He replied to Faunus, twirling the broken handle of the Caduceus between his fingers as he spoke.

"Only from humans! We're stealing from a god, Hermes, not some wealthy fool who cannot guard his riches from two wayfarers from the east. Hades does not take lightly to infractions against his will, nor does he appreciate theft from his domain. The only man I know of that ever almost managed to take something from Hades was Orpheus, and that was something that was given in exchange for his ability to sing and play music, and he still failed!" exclaimed Faunus, irate at Hermes's nonchalance.

"You told me yourself last time we were thieving together that it wasn't that you were gaining anything, that it was the thrill of the heist. Imagine how much fun you'll be having when it's from a god. Yes, there is a risk factor, but really; I'm the god of thieves. What could go wrong?"

The satyr huffed, but seemed satisfied enough by Hermes's words. He cast his eyes towards the gates and asked, "So, how do we get in?"

In response, a loud grinding noise spurred into existence around the pair of thieves, and the skeleton began to sink into the gates, back first. Its fingers dug into the metal of the gate, as if it were trying to keep from being consumed wholly, but it was all for naught. Soon the skeleton was completely gone, as well as the chains. The gates swung open slowly, showing a path leading down into darkness.

"To enter the underworld, there must be a death to which you are connected," whispered Hermes. "I had a little chat with Thanatos before we left. Now, we must enter quickly before it closes."

Inside the gate, the air was stale, cold, and smelt horribly of rotted flesh, and there was no light to be found. As the god and the satyr descended, one hand one the walls for guidance each, however, the scent of rot began to dissipate, and the pitch darkness began to lighten and change to a dim, foggy haze. As Hermes and Faunus made their way through the dark fog, they began to hear whispering, far-off shouts and cries, and barely-perceptible laughter, clearly tainted with insanity.

"The laments of the damned…" Said Hermes gravely as the fog began to lift and a large, slowly flowing river came into view. Faunus did not reply, and only rubbed his arms for warmth and comfort.

However, while Faunus did not reply, a wistful voice floated through the air in response.

"It is all I ever hear…"

A small raft floated down the river slowly, upon which a cloaked figure stood, holding a long, battered wooden oar. "How kind of you to grant me a visit, old friend. I see many pass through here, but all are too enshrouded with their own death to be of much company, and none are gods."

Hermes smiled, and stepped forward. "It's been a long time, Charon. Too long. Hades has still got you paying your judgment by ferrying the dead, eh?"

"Yes… 20,134,500,932 more coins to collect before I am done, I'm afraid. I would question your business here, Hermes, but then I would have something to get beaten out of me if you get caught. Pay your fare, and I will let you go along your business." Replied Charon, embracing Hermes. The god produced two golden coins and handed them to the ferryman.

Hermes beckoned Faunus, and they both got into the small boat. Charon began to ferry them across the great river Acheron, he and Hermes questioning each other about how times had been since they last parted. Finally they arrived at the other end of the Acheron River, and disembarked. The two gave their farewells, and Hermes and Faunus made their way into the main section of the underworld, which was just as foggy as it was just before the Acheron. In addition, the noises of the dead had increased in volume and various emotions, and there was a weak ambient static buzzing noise that never stopped. After what seemed like days of walking, with no landmarks to be found save for when they passed the river of Lethe, from which Hermes collected a phial of water, saying it was part of Eris's orders, Faunus became irate again.

"Where are we going, Hermes?" he barked at the god of thieves, stepping in front of his path. Hermes had a knowing smile, and merely nodded forward.

"Look."

Faunus turned around and all his anger bled away. What he saw before him terrified him, and he took an involuntary step backwards, bumping into Hermes.

"We're going there?! Are you mad?!" he yelped quietly, shivering at the sight of a massive pit, belching dark flames, scorching the souls hanging above it by spiked chains. These chains happened to be tied around the necks of three massive heads, all next to each other, resembling those of a Doberman infected with some sort of flesh-eating disease. One eye was missing from two of the three heads, the ones on either side of the middle, though both eyes were closed. The middle had no eyes, only bloody sockets from which a seemingly endless stream of crimson and black blood was pouring. All heads had massive, razor-sharp teeth the length of a man's arm, thick as a torso. Whatever body the creature possessed was enshrouded by the fog, and could not be seen. The foulest scent permeated the air, like that of rotting and seared flesh, rotten fruit, feces, and sulfur all culminating together and multiplied tenfold.

"No," said Hermes, only slightly perturbed by the sight. He'd seen it before. "We have to get an apple from that tree, just beneath it." He pointed at a small, decrepit tree that had naught but one fruit on the lowest branch. Its brilliance seemed quite out of place compared to the horrid surroundings, as it shined brightly with a golden glow.

"It will take both of us to do this, Faunus. Are you ready?" Hermes asked the satyr in a low whisper. Faunus nodded in reply. "You will have to get the apple. Cerberus will not notice the aura of a lesser being, and the musk of a satyr will lull him further into sleep."

The large satyr began to make his way towards the tree on tip-hooves, steadily ignoring the loud cries of the Tartarus-bound with the concentration that only a thief possesses. Finally he arrived at the tree, and for a moment he just gazed at the apple, lost in its almost hypnotic glow. Then he shook his head, clearing his mind of the daze, and reached up, plucking the apple from the tree.

He immediately discounted this as a mistake, as the moment the apple was separated from the tree, a ear-shattering roar emitted from the nearby three-headed monstrosity, and Faunus turned and took one look at the two opened eyes, burning with such feral desire for living flesh and revenge for stealing the apple that it chilled him down to his very soul, and he fled back toward Hermes, terrified.

Cerberus shrugged off his chains of damned souls, letting them fall down into the endless pit of punishment that is Tartarus, and began his pursuit. As soon as Faunus reached Hermes, the god of thieves began to flee as well, rather anxious to not be devoured by the stygian guardian of Tartarus.

The journey back to the Acheron River seemed to be only moments, and as soon as it came into view, Faunus recognized their plight. They would not be able to cross the river in time.

Caught up in his thoughts, Faunus tripped. He slammed into the ground, coming to a grinding halt in his escape. Hermes made no such blunder, and made it to the banks of the Acheron with no trouble.

And then Cerberus came into view, howling with bloodlust, eyes burning and bleeding, powerful legs carrying him towards the satyr.

"Quick! Throw me the apple!" Hermes called to the satyr. "It might stop him from going after you!"

Faunus quickly pulled himself up from the ground, and hurled the apple towards Hermes. It was overshot, and Hermes leapt into the air to catch it, wings flapping on his sandals and helmet. He stretched his arm out in front of him, just barely catching the golden fruit.

Cerberus did not seem to care. He did not diverge from his path, and as soon as he reached the satyr, one massive head shot out and devoured him whole, along with a sizeable chunk of the ground.

Hermes did not look back. He flew across the Acheron, and touched down on the other end. He gave a sigh, and said quietly, "Like I said, you need to be directly connected with a death to enter the underworld… Thanatos is good at what he does."

Hermes proceeded back up through Erebus, phial and apple in tow, and when he reached the gates, they swung open quietly and he passed through them.

Just as he got out, a voice called to him.

"Hermes! I see you have done it!" Eris cried with joy at the sight of the messenger god. "Quickly, bring the items to me." Hermes complied, stepping forward and handing the phial of Lethe's waters and the golden apple to the goddess of discord. She grinned malevolently upon receiving her prizes. "You are a wonderful pawn, Hermes. I should write you a letter of recommendation."

With those words, she uncorked the phial and thrust it into Hermes's mouth. His surprise was quickly quieted by the water's powers of forgetfulness, and his eyes blanked. Eris grabbed the phial from his mouth, pocketed it, and conjured a silver quill. She deftly wrote the word "kallisti" on it. Then she began to laugh quietly to herself, and she walked slowly away.