Guest: thanks for the review.
LadyAwesome45321: Hi, I'm glad you're back and that you are enjoying the story so far! And no, it's not too much trouble to repeat which Legend is which god(ess)'s champion.
Wally - Hermes (messenger); Nora - Hades (Underworld); Sara - Persephone (also Underworld); Amaya - Demeter (agriculture, fertility); Zari - Artemis (hunter, moon); Ray - Athena (knowledge); Mick - Dionysus (wine, ritual madness); and John - Hecate (magic). Nate is not a champion yet.
The jumpship touched down in the Mediterranean landscape. There was nothing in sight that grew any higher than Nate's knees or even ankles, and there were more gray and beige rocks than there was any green. From his position, he could see the sea everywhere but behind him, where the Mani peninsula connected to the mainland of Greece. In front of him stood a tower, the white lighthouse of Cape Tenaron. This was not as historic as many might believe it to be, but Nate had not come here for its history. He had come to find an entrance to the Underworld.
The sun was already setting – no more tourists or locals were around anymore, not even in the lighthouse. It was a magnificent view, with the yellow and orange light painting a beautiful picture on the water with the lighthouse in focus. Nate did not go towards that lighthouse – instead, he turned his back to it and followed the tracks that lead to a parking lot, only twenty minutes away. He did not walk all the way over there, but he did follow the road for five minutes at a considerable pace. Then he turned to the left, treading off the path and climbing over rocks to make it to the place he was looking for.
At long last, he found it. In the distance, near the water, he found a cave. He'd have to climb down the rocks and risk slipping and falling into the water. It would have to do. He needed to climb if he wanted to go there, anyway.
"Are you sure?" A female voice said behind him. Nate around and almost lost his footing for a moment. A little ahead stood an older woman whose dark hair danced in the wind and whose olive skin was accentuated by the white, nearly transparent tunic. She stood there barefoot and stable on the uneven rocks, not even bothered by the rugged landscape. There was a warm smile on her face, though there was a certain sadness to it as well, and her gaze was aimed at Nate.
"I'm sorry, what?" Nate responded. He might have come up with better words, but he didn't.
"Are you sure you want to go to the Underworld?" The woman asked him. "If you fall, you won't have a choice, but do you really want it?"
"You're a goddess, aren't you?" Nate looked at her with interested. How else would she know what he was up to? She had to be, even if her appearance did not make her look all that special. He had expected her to, because of her status, but maybe that was the point. Maybe they were supposed to look like flawed people, actual human beings, instead of literal beauty queens and macho men.
"Not exactly," the woman answered. "but I am related to them." The woman came closer to him and extended her hand towards Nate. "My name is Philotes. Friends call me Phil."
Nate reluctantly extended his hand and shook hers. This was not something he'd expected.
"Hi… Phil," he said. He would be lying if he said this did not confuse him. He had not thought that someone like her would act in such a friendly manner and would be welcoming towards a mortal. He almost immediately let go again, uncomfortable with the situation. "Nice to meet you. I'm so sorry, but I'm on a tight schedule. If you want to talk, we can do so later, but now I'll—"
"You didn't answer my question," Phil said, a curious and sad look in her eyes. "Are you sure you want to go to the Underworld?"
Nate nodded once. "Yes, I am."
Phil tilted her head. "You remind of another young man I once knew. He went to the Underworld as well. Only he brought a lyre, while you came empty-handed."
Was she talking about Orpheus? "What happened to him?" Nate asked out of politeness. She may be talking about another young man with a lyre that wanted to go to hell.
The sadness expelled all other emotions from her face. "Human error. He failed to bring her back." There was a brief pause, in which Nate started to doubt his plan. she was talking about Orpheus. He was certain not to make the same mistake, but still, that doubt came through.
"Hades does not like to allow reaped souls to return to their bodies. You will need to have a good reason."
"I'll think about it," Nate said. That was such a daunting task, something he hadn't quite thought about. How would he convince the King of Hell to release one specific dead person? Death does not discriminate and may not care about which specific time and space, so Nate didn't expect Hades to make an exception for Amaya Jiwe.
Still, he had to try.
"Before you go," Phil said, "I have some gifts for you." She pulled the items out of nowhere and handed them to Nate.
"A flashlight and a coin?" Nate asked, a frown on his face. He could understand the reason for the flashlight, but his knowledge of the Greek world only extended to the most common myths. If the coin had any significance in the larger Greek world, he did not remember its value.
"You'll need the torch. Your human eyes may not see everything you may come across without it and you will need to see where you are going. As for the drachma: if you want to cross the river Styx, you will need to pay. This will provide you access to the Underworld." Phil placed a comforting hand on Nate's arm and smiled at him with the same reassuring smile, now devoid of sadness. She withdrew her hand before she spoke again. "Good luck, Nathaniel. I truly hope she is worth it."
He glanced at the items again. He looked up again, to tell her that Amaya was always worth it, but Phil had already left. That was not too surprising – he heard the stories from other Legends who encountered gods and goddesses and them just leaving where they stood without saying goodbye
when they were done.
Nate put the coin in his pocket, held the flashlight in his left hand and then climbed down the rocks, to the entrance of the cave. The rocks weren't as slippery as he imagined they would be, and he soon found the cave he'd been looking for. He squeezed through the small opening and continued to crawl until there was enough space for him to stand. He looked behind him; his eyes had gotten used to the darkness, while the light of the setting sun did not reach this far into the cave and was just a white dot in the darkness.
Nate lit up the flashlight. So far, it was still a normal cave with normal rocks. Some bats flew over his head, but nothing out of the ordinary had shown itself yet.
Nate descended deeper into the cave. Slowly, the world around him grew darker and darker, despite the flashlight Phil had given him. He barely could see more than two yards ahead and slowed his pace, careful not to slip on something he could have easily seen.
At long last, Nate noticed the cave had adopted a circular shape with less and less rough spots. The short piece of the circular hallway led him straight to the main entrance to the Underworld. There was no ceremony attacked to it: no sign that said 'Underworld', nothing to warn any mortal not to enter. It looked normal, and that was creepy.
In front of him lay a dark cavern so large it may fit the entire Time Bureau headquarters. There was a staircase wide enough to accommodate ten to twenty people walking next to one another. The stairs were steep – steep enough that the only way these could be used for was to walk down instead of going up. At the bottom of this staircase, who knows how deep it was, ran a silver river and a shapeless black dot slowly edging from one side to the other. Upon entering the cavern, the flashlight had turned into an old-fashioned torch. In its light, shadows and spirits passed him, but they were only visible in the torch's light before they merged with the darkness again.
Nate took a deep breath. His vision only affirmed his actions. He was meant to do this because he had seen this happen before. Then there was this draw to go down, too, some supernatural pull that encouraged Nate not to wait. Nate obeyed that draw and descended into the Underworld.
He lost track of time as he approached the river, which became wider with every few yards he descended into Hades. Had he been walking for half an hour? Or maybe an hour or two? Was this his mind playing tricks on him or just the darkness of the environment that did not help him. These thoughts returned every so often, with nothing much else to think about, but Nate dismissed it. however, he could not dismiss that, since his arrival here, he hadn't grown any more hungry or tired. He'd been carrying the torch in the same hand and he did not feel the need to let it rest by switching it to the other arm. It must be one of the many effects the Underworld had on people.
When he was about three-quarters down, another thought occurred to him. People died all the time. He saw some shadows and spirits passing by in the light of his torch, going faster than him, but that was all he saw. How many of them were around him? How many of them were storming past him to catch the ferry down below? It creeped him out.
There came an end to the staircase at last and Nate set foot on the flattened rock floor. Fifty meters ahead, the silver river Styx meandered along and from the unseen other side, a ferryboat appeared. The ferryman Charon stood at the bow. Whatever Nate was expecting him to look like, this skeleton-grim reaper without his scythe merger was not it. The ferryman caught his eye and a chill went down Nate's spine. Charon terrified him, but his glare did not demotivate him in the slightest.
Nate overcame his initial shock rather easily – don't look at him, think of Amaya – as he approached the ferry. In the light of the torch, he witnessed many ghosts rushing past him to board the boat. He may not see them, but the boat did not immediately leave either, so boarding still was as slow as it may above the ground.
"Hey," Nate said to draw Charon's attention. When the ferryman turned his head, Nate focused his gaze on the black hood instead of on the skull. "Hi. Er, I would like to cross the Styx, please."
If Charon had eyes, he would roll them. "Another tourist." His voice had a thick Greek accent, which possibly may be an ancient Greek accent. This was not the kind of accent that he had expected to hear. On the other hand, this was the man who was supposed to bring the dead to the Greek afterlife, so why wouldn't he speak with a Greek accent?
"I can pay," Nate said before Charon could leave him on the shore. He pulled the coin out of his pocket and extended it towards Charon. "Is this enough?"
The ferryman grabbed the drachma and stuffed it into his pocket. He may not be getting paid well anymore these days.
"Get in." Charon's voice was not any friendlier than it had been a couple of moments ago. Nate sighed in relief.
"Thank you so much."
But Charon still blocked Nate's way.
"Leave the torch," Charon commanded, glaring at the torch Nate was still holding in his hand. Nate obeyed the command and placed the torch on the ground. It did not turn back into a flashlight when Nate let go of it, but the flame did stop burning. Nate hurried into the boat, worrying he wouldn't see anything anymore.
But his vision did not fade. As soon as he boarded, his eyes must have adjusted to the darkness around him. And he could finally see the ghosts, too. They stared at him with a certain uncomfortable look in their eyes. There was no place to sit down; Nate would have to remain standing next to the ferryman.
As soon as Nate grabbed the side of the boat for some extra support, the ferry started moving through the water. It was such a strange feeling, standing there and feeling like you were the only person, while also being surrounded by so many deceased. The thought, as many did these moments, creeped him out. He needed to distract himself.
"You're not going to ask me what I'm doing here?" Nate asked Charon. The ferryman did not even look at Nate when he answered; he still needed to do his job and was not going to let a mortal distract him.
"That is your business, not mine," Charos answered in that dry accent and indifferent tone. "But let me guess. You're coming for your girlfriend."
Nate frowned. "I… How did you—"
"They always come for their girlfriends," Charon said in a neutral voice. "Only one man came to talk to his father. Aeneas did not have a girlfriend back then. I liked him."
"None of your business, huh?" If the business of the mortal travelers was none of Charon's, then why recount this one tale of a guy who came to have a short chat with his deceased father for some reason. If Nate recalled correctly, Aeneas is mythologically quite important, being a Trojan who made it out of the city and traveling to Italy, later described as an ancestor of Emperor August.
"They just don't stop talking," Charon admitted.
"Oh," Nate said. Well, he now knew why they never stopped talking about what they were here to do. The ferry did not look very stable, the waters were not something Nate would fall in and in general, this was not something he'd like to do again. Nate very much wanted this journey to be over with, to set foot on land again, and the best way to pass the time was to talk.
"I've been wondering…" Nate paused. "You know, I'd like to know, do many souls take this boat?" Considering the size of the boat and how crowded it was, he did not seem to be put out of a job soon.
"They all do," Charon said. He answered it as if he heard the question before. Then again, he must have heard every question before.
"But still…" Nate continued. "Not to be rude or anything, not at all, it's just… What about the Christians? The Muslims, the Hindus?" This method of traveling to the afterlife was heavily related to concepts of Greek mythology and beliefs: paying for the ferry that brought you to the other side. While Nate himself didn't really believe, there were many out there who believed in something that wasn't related to Greek myths at all. And since they exist, how did it fit into the bigger picture? Did God exist? According to Constantine, He does, but He's apparently not very loving. But then what about the god or gods of other beliefs?
"They pass here for free," Charon explained. "On the other side, they are sorted into beliefs and sent to their respective areas. The Greek Asphodel Fields are for the atheists, Christian heaven borders Elysium and Muslim heaven. We do not discriminate here."
"Thanks," Nate said, nodding a couple of times. "Good to know."
"Why do you ask such a question?" Charon then asked him. Nate had not expected this – the ferryman did not strike him as the question-asking type. Nate shrugged in response.
"Just curious," Nate responded, Zari on his mind. He had been wondering about this since he learned about the Greek gods being real. Zari had to be wondering about this as well, or she knew where she would end up when her time was up. And still, it was a comforting thought that everyone had a place in this afterlife, that they overlapped, that even those who didn't believe were allowed to enter the Asphodel Fields. Nobody would be rejected, and that was a nice thought.
The remainder of the ferry ride was spent in silence. This silence lasted for ten more minutes before the ferry arrived on the other side of the river and approached the mooring point.
This side of the river was much more pleasant to look at. That is, there at least was something to look at. A wide path was paved to a large gateway in the distance. Three dogs barked so loudly they were audible from the Styx – three dog heads belonging to the same guard dog Cerberus. The barking alone served as a stark reminder that those who go never return to the world above the ground.
Anxiousness took a grip of him. Nate became more and more aware of the gravity of his situation each time he took a step towards the gate. He may not come out of this alive. He may fail in his quest… no! He shouldn't think this way. He'd never doubted his reasons, and he wasn't going to start now. He had to at least try to appeal to Hades and his wife to release Amaya. And if they said no and decided to keep him trapped down here as well… The Legends were inventive enough to put together a crazy escape plan that may work. Before he knew it, he stood before the gate and an undead person – not a ghost – walked up to him. He had a weird posture walked around with a bent back and twisted neck, bloodstains still upon his face and neck.
"You ain't dead," he said and looked at Nate with the greatest interest. How much time had passed since this undead man had seen a living man?
"I know," Nate said, uncomfortable under the curious stare. This uncomfortable feeling seemed to be the default in this world. "I, er, would like to speak with Hades, please?"
"Do you have an appointment?" The man asked with a raspy voice. Nate frowned.
"I… what?" He had heard nothing of appointments. Besides, wouldn't someone tell him that he had to have an appointment to even come close enough to Hades to have a short conversation with him?
"No, then," the undead man said. "You'll have to wait here until he has time for you. That may take a long, long time."
"But this can't wait," Nate said. "It's a matter of life and death." And now he wondered how much time had already passed up there. Had they found Periboea's hide-out yet? Had Wally already waken up and told the Legends what Nate was up to? did they mourn and move on, or did they temporarily dismiss him, believing he would return? Would they rescue him once they learned that Hades – for now still hypothetically – held him captive?
The man nodded. "Yeah, yeah, it always is," he said. He then said something, but Nate could not quite make out what he was trying to say – the man was muttering to himself and shaking his head.
"That's enough, Hector," a voice from behind the man said. "Let him through."
Hector the undead guard grumbled under his breath and stepped out of the way, revealing a small girl who looked young, but who also seemed to bear the wisdom of the ages with her.
"I will guide you to Hades," the girl said. She promptly turned around and walked away, forcing Nate to follow her through the Underworld.
He did not find a conversational partner in the girl. She was so stoic and silent, he didn't even hear her footsteps. Nate didn't have much time to look around either, for she walked quickly and Nate did not want to lose her from his sight. Maybe it was best that he could not see what was going on. They had to have passed Tartarus at one point – it was visible in the far distance, but that section of the Underworld was a demanding presence. It may even be an entity itself that required some attention and that drew in unfortunate souls who were passing through. At other times, Nate also spotted more undead people, who all had that same curiosity in him as Hector had. He did not know what their purpose was here.
But, for the most part, the journey brought him through meadows where he couldn't help but feel unenergetic. The grass was a dull green, the sky was grey and overall there was no good mood, but not exactly a bad mood either. Nate figured that those souls who were not the evil scum of the earth, but who weren't heroes or saints, would end up on those meadows, those Asphodel Fields. For the first time, Nate did not want to see the ghosts, these dead people who did nothing spectacular in their lives and who thus were forced to live out their dull moments.
At long last, something changed in the landscape. Atop the largest hill on the meadow fields stood a white temple, which contrasted heavily with the dark gray sky. It stood out like a sore thumb, the marble wonder impressive to all who first saw it; a reminder that the rulers of the Underworld had chosen to build their home and throne room amidst 'average' souls. For as long as this building was into view, Nate could not take his eyes off of it. It was also the most interesting thing to look at and the only thing taller than anything that grew on the meadows.
Before he knew it, Nate stood at the foot of the temple's hill. The girl who had to lead him waited there, while Nate climbed the hill to meet the Lord of the Underworld on his own.
The doors were closed and Nate hesitated. Should be knock? Should he wait? Fear and doubt washed over him again, and he quickly pushed that away. He couldn't give up now. He grabbed the door handles and pushed the doors open. He walked inside for a couple of steps before lifting his head and stopped.
The sight was one to behold, to be feared not to disturb. Later, Nate would not be able to remember how exactly they looked. He only remembered Hades's skin van was pale while Persephone's was dark, that both sat on their respective thrones and watched him, that terror gripped him and did not let go.
"Come closer," Hades said in a low voice and Nate obeyed without hesitation, though his steps were slow and heavy. He did not look away from the two rulers of the Underworld. He halted at about ten yards away from their thrones; they were not as big as Nate previously thought, but they had to still be at least ten foot tall. Was that their original size, or had they shrunk themselves as not to intimidate the mortal who came to request something.
"Speak," Persephone said. Both her and Hades solemnly stared at him. At that moment, Nate felt so small, like an ant who met a giant for the first time. He briefly forgot how to speak, but soon regained his speech. Still, his talking started slowly and only later sounded more fluent.
"I, er…" His throat was dry – when did that happen? "I have a request." He stopped, half-expecting the gods before him to ask what the request was. But they remained silent, so Nate continued after an awkward pause. "It concerns Amaya Jiwe. I'm going to need her to come back with me."
"Why do you want her back?" Hades asked him in the same voice, that sounded scary yet kind of reassuring, permitting the mortal to speak without being interrupted by either Hades or Persephone.
"She's a Legend," Nate said. As he spoke, his tone grew more affectionate, less stilted and by the time he spoke the last sentence, he put his heart into it. "She had joined the fight against the Giantess as the champion of Demeter when she died. But she needs to live because it's not her time. I mean that literally; she was not supposed to die when she did. She's from the future, and her time to die has been set in the summer of 1992. Her fight is far from over, and she needs to come back so that she can later return to her own time and die when she is supposed to."
The deafening silence that followed cut right through his soul. The two gods took a long look at one another – Nate believed they were talking to each other telepathically. He was certain that wasn't an ability none of the gods possessed – they may just have the same idea. They turned their heads back to the mortal.
"Do you love her?" Persephone asked him.
"I do," Nate said, nodding. "I really do. But that's not the point here. she does need to go back for familial reasons. She marries someone in the future and one of her descendants will be a great hero. her importance to the timeline cannot be overstated." Nate did not clarify whether he was talking about Mari, Kuasa or Amaya with the last sentence. And he did inflate the actual importance to the timeline – yes, she was important to the near future, but there was no telling how impactful her life was to the far future.
There was a pause again. This time, it was not as deafening or stressful as before. Eventually, Hades spoke again.
"I merely rule the dead; I do not reap souls and I cannot return them to their mortal bodies." Nate felt his hope sink with every new word spoken. "But I can speak with Thanatos and ask him to restore her."
A huge burden fell off his shoulders. He felt lighter, like he could breathe more freely again. He sighed in relief. "Thank you. Thank you so much!"
"Nathaniel," Hades said and he immediately grasped the mortal's attention again. "This is but a one-time-only agreement. You nor your friends are allowed to come here for such a request. And remember; a soul for a soul. The trade will happen when the fighting is done. Do you understand?"
There lay a certain weight on this question. The answer, no doubt, was just as heavy. Without hesitation, Nate nodded his head in determination.
"I understand." It was a promise, an oral agreement to an unbreakable contract, and Hades and Persephone treated it as such. So did Nate.
"When you leave my realm, there will be a coin in your pocket," Hades said. "Place it on your friend and her soul will be returned."
Nate nodded again, and briefly took a bow before them.
"Thank you," he once again said. He turned his back to them and walked away at three times the speed he used when he walked into the temple. His footsteps echoed as he walked through the doors. When they closed behind him, he sighed in relief and a smile came to his face.
Amaya was going to live.
But at what cost?