Welcome to The Jungle

The feeling of being pursued is never pleasant. But it does make for speedy travel times. It seemed like just a few hours had passed when we found ourselves back at the fork in the path – either back to the tower or down to the jungle below. Bishop spent some time staring at the valley below us, trying to memorize likely paths through the thick foliage. We were still so high up that it was an impossible task. It didn't stop him from trying, however. After about a quarter of an hour, he nodded and started down the trail into the jungle.

The path led steeply downward. There were switchbacks and long drops and a sheer cliff on the opposite side. It was unpleasant to think on what might happen if one of us slipped. It was equally unpleasant to imagine having to hike back up this path. I found myself thanking whatever gods could hear that we were going down instead of up.

As we neared the bottom of the mountains the trail flattened out. Vegetation began to crop up more and more frequently. Instead of the normal green we were used to all the plants were red, just like the rest of this place. They all looked familiar and yet eerily different at the same time. I had been keeping my eye out for spell components, since a lot of them involve parts of plants. I would spot a plant I was sure I recognized, only to find it completely different upon further examination. I quit looking after a while.

The plants grew more numerous and the trees began to climb towards the sky. The path before us continued on, but to my eyes it was difficult to see. Bishop was leading the way, doing what he does best – tracking. The jungle was eerily silent. I had expected bird calls and the sounds of small arboreal dwellers to resound through the canopy. Instead we were greeted with a deadening silence that was only broken by our footfalls. The smell of decay and overripe vegetation was nauseating.

In front of me, Bishop held up his hand in a gesture that meant 'stop'. I did. Then I heard it: the sounds of footsteps marching through the jungle. We made eye contact and he held up one finger and then 5 fingers to indicate 15 people. Another gesture indicated that he thought we should hide in the trees while whomever it was passed us by. I agreed. There was no need to involve ourselves in whatever was coming our way. There was no guarantee they wouldn't see us if we hid, but it was pretty unlikely.

Soon enough a troop of what appeared to be some kind of demons walked by, leading about 10 humans bound by chains. Slavers. I shook my head at the irony: weren't we all slaves here? There was no escaping, not for most. I tried to be optimistic that we'd get out someday, but realistically I knew our chances were slim. But I suppose being free was still a worthwhile pursuit.

The demons called a halt and stopped the slaves. They began to talk amongst themselves. At first I had a hard time understanding their dialect: partially because their abyssal was heavily accented with some other language I didn't recognize and partially because our hiding place didn't exactly give us a good vantage point for hearing or seeing. But it was best that we not be seen, so I stayed put and tried to listen harder.

"We need to find a way across the Styx. I won't pay the marraenoloth's patrolling the river their outrageous sums just to do a job we were commissioned to do. Ferrying should be free," said one of the demons to another. At least I presumed it was the demons speaking the heavily accented Abyssal.

"I agree. But we don't have any alternative other than to swim it, and you know that's no alternative at all. We'll just have to pay the sum and argue with our masters on its repayment later. There's no other way across."

"Fine. But if we can't get that sum refunded, it's coming out of your share. I refuse to pay it. Damn bloody stranglehold on river commerce they've got, those sodding marraenoloths'. You'd think someone would set up their own independent ferry and charge honest chink."

"Don't think it hasn't been tried, Fraxis. Them boatmen don't take kindly to anyone else plying their waters. Now come on, we've got to get over to Severence before they think we've gotten lost or killed out here."

The group moved off; the demons prodding the humans with wicked looking spears. They seemed blissfully unaware of our presence, and as they marched out of sight I let go of a breath I wasn't aware I'd been holding. Overhearing that conversation had been a lucky break. Information was never free. But it could be stolen, as we had just done. At least now I knew the city we'd seen from the mountains was Severence.

"Were they discussing anything important?" asked Bishop as we stepped back onto the path. I was truly amazed at how he managed to keep Magrith quiet whenever we had to hide. It was almost like they were one entity sharing two separate bodies. Either that or the mutt was smarter than I'd originally thought.

"As a matter of fact, they were. The town on the other side of the river is Severence. And that river we saw winding through this valley? It's the Styx."

The ranger looked at me blankly. He shook his head slightly as if to say, "and?" I couldn't believe he'd never heard of the River Styx. It was infamous. Everyone had heard of it. Why was he giving me that 'so what?" stare of his?

"The River Styx. Surely you've heard of it and its wonderful amnesiac properties?" I said, sarcasm dripping from my voice. Good gods I sometimes felt like smacking the man.

"Yeah, I've heard of it. So what? We just have to find a way across."

"Well, that's the hard part. There are boatmen who ferry beings across, but only at great cost. There's no bargaining with them – piss them off and they dump you in the river without a second thought or a second glance behind to see if you're ok. Once you have a dunk in the river, you can't remember anything. Your name, your past, your life – gone. Washed away with the rest of the detritus of the river." I paused, thinking on what I'd just said. Forgetting. Would it work? Would it count?

Bishop was staring at me with that strange look on his face. It was a familiar look, but not one I'd figured out the meaning of yet. It usually arrived when I was busy thinking about something else. One of these days I'd have to parse out all of his expressions. But for now…

"That's it, Bishop!" I exclaimed.

"What?" he said, sounding bored and confused at the same time.

I grabbed his arm in my excitement. "We dunk ourselves in the river! We'll forget everything. Everything that made us the people we are today will be gone. The atrocities of our childhood – the events that shaped and molded us into the epitome of evil we are today – forgotten. Washed away. It would be a second chance. It would be a second life! We could return to the deva. She would have to pass us through the portal. We wouldn't be us anymore. We'd be somebody else."

He grabbed my shoulders hard and shook me. There was a fierce look in his eyes and he wasn't happy. He was mad. "THINK about what you're saying," he said. "Do you really want to lose everything that you are just to get out of here? Would it be worth it? Is escaping this place worth losing yourself? Because if we forget who we are, we won't be us anymore. We would be exchanging our old lives for new ones, and we wouldn't EVEN REMEMBER! Has it been so bad that you'd want to forget everything? It can't all have been bad!"

A haunted look came into his eyes as he finished. He let me go and took a step back, turning from me and putting a hand to his forehead. "I don't know if I'm willing to go that far," he said quietly. "I don't know if I want to forget it all. Parts of my life I'd willingly give up. But there are other parts," he turned and looked at me, the intensity of his gaze making me gasp. "There are other parts I wouldn't trade for anything. It's not worth it, Kelina. I won't do it."

A step brought me next to him and I placed my head on his shoulder. "There are things I wouldn't want to forget either, Bishop. You would be one of them." I looked up at him and brought his head around to face me. "But if we truly have feelings for each other, wouldn't they stay, even though our memories are gone?" I kissed him, caressing his back with my other hand.

"Would you take that chance just to escape? I'd rather spend the rest of my days here, than forget everything I have ever known and everything I've ever been. It's not worth it." He kissed me back, his arms lifting me up off the ground a little. "Besides," he whispered in my ear, "we both take a perverse pleasure in being what we are. What fun would a second chance be?"

He was making sense again. Which meant I had lost my perspective. Again. It seemed to be happening more and more frequently. The strange and warped energies of this plane were starting to affect me in ways I had never foreseen. I desperately wanted to get out of here. But he had a point – was the cost of leaving worth losing my identity?

"How about we keep the Styx option in reserve, in case we get really desperate?" I asked by way of a compromise. I still thought the plan had its merits. I didn't think we'd lose everything. But I didn't know for sure either.

He snorted. "Whatever."

I nodded to myself, happy he hadn't totally shut the idea down. He was at least considering it. "You know, if I got dunked in the Styx, I wonder if the giants back at Mnemosyne's temple could restore my memory? I mean, they did record everything about my life. You think that device of theirs might go both ways?" I asked as we began walking down the leaf strewn trail.

"Don't know – don't care. We're not going to douse you with the river water just to find out, either. Put the idea out of your head." He moved ahead of me, disappearing into the trees. Magrith cocked her head at me and followed him. I shook my head, a smirk on my face. Then I too followed my man into the wilderness.