Chapter One: The King in The Underworld
Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or The Inheritance Cycle.
Mist poured off of the green river as the ferryman poled the boat across. On the boat were several figures, most of them in suits and ties, or dresses, the clothes they had been buried in. One of them however, was dressed in a black tunic and a pair of trousers, a long, leathery, red cape flowed elegantly from his shoulders. On his head, a circle of red gold set with gems sat in short black hair.
Once, this man had been the mighty king who had ruled the Broddring Empire, the master of a grand army hundreds of thousands strong. Now he sat in a boat with other, less wealthy individuals.
Albeit, he was at first confused when, after the battle that had ended his life, he had woken up in an unfamiliar place. It was, he had to admit, a grandly impressive place. It was lit by what he assumed was magic. Several large glass windows showed a strange vista of a smooth, unbroken strip of black rock, with several large machines passing along it.
The king slowly turned, seeing that there was a large, sumptuous desk. Behind it sat a positive bear of a man dressed in a suit, and wearing a darkened pair of spectacles. It seemed like a good a place to start as any. The man had a tag on his desk, presumably his name, but the king had no idea what it said; the symbols were unfamiliar to him.
The man looked up at the king.
"How may I help you sir?"
The man's cadence sounded odd. It sounded similar to some of the ones he had encountered during a short stay in Palancar Valley, but there was an odd lilt.
"I want to know where I am," said the king in his deep measured voice.
"You are dead, mister…?"
"King Galbatorix."
"Well king, I am Mr. Charon."
Galbatorix found that name familiar. As part of securing the aid of the priests of Helgrind, he had read their Book of Tosk, and found that part of their beliefs was that a Charon would be waiting to bring them across the river to the afterlife.
"Do you have a drachma for the passage, king?"
Galbatorix was confused, although he attempted to hide it. A drachma sounded like a coin. He pulled a crown out of the pouch at his belt.
"Will this do?"
Charon took it.
"An Alagaesian crown!" he exclaimed. "Are you Alagaesian, king?"
"Yes."
"On my word! Hades isn't going to like this. Ah well, I'll make a special trip."
Charon stepped down from the podium beckoning for him to follow. Galbatorix found himself doing so. He led him to two metal doors. He lightly brushed them, and they slid open. They stepped in. The doors closed and there was a sickening sense of motion. The small room they had stepped into flickered, and then became a barge, which Charon was pooling across a river.
Apparently, Tosk had been right. The barge bumped up against the river bank, and the other dead began to file out of the boat. Charon grabbed Galbatorix's arm as he made to follow them.
"You're not goin' that way, king. The boss has special instructions for Alagaesians. Your goin' straight to the palace."
Charon unclipped something metal from his belt and unfolded it. Galbatorix wasn't sure what it was, but he felt like it was some sort of communication device. After Charon whispered into it for a moment, he turned to look at Galbatorix.
"Wait on the river bank. Your ride will be here shortly. Do not touch the water, it will dissolve you. The Styx doesn't take kindly to anyone."
Charon paddled away, whistling a song. Galbatorix stared moodily at the black, polluted water of the Styx.
He wasn't a child to be ridiculed and locked away dammit! He was a King! He would not be ignored!
Galbatorix sighed as he relived his last moments. That cursed boy, Eragon Bromsson. He had somehow cast a spell, without the ancient language. Galbatorix needed to know the secret, especially if he was going to escape this depressing cavern.
He recalled the torrent of emotions whirling through him. The pain. The sorrow. The love.
Galbatorix quickly dampened down those thoughts. They wouldn't help him now. A screech from behind him shook him all the way back to reality. He turned to look straight into the oddest creature he had ever seen, including the Ra'zac and the Lethrblaka. A bat-winged woman, with an ugly, wrinkled face and talons to rival a dragon hatchling's. She glared at the king.
"You are the Alagaesian?" she asked. Her accent was different too, seeming more like the accents of the humans in Kuasta and Eoam.
"Yes."
"I have come to take you to the palace of Hades."
A/N: In case you missed it, I made the people of Carvahall and Therinsford have North London accents which is why Galbatorix identifies Charon as sounding like that. And I've always thought of the Furies as having Greek accents, and I made Kuasta (small city in the Spine) and Eoam (the only city on the islands in the south-west) having Greek accents as well. Please review, because reviews are good, and I like them.