Sing, o Muse, of Zagreus, son of Hades and prince of the Underworld, quarrelsome quixotic Zagreus doomed to die and return time and time again. Tell his story, and how in this moment he found himself pulling himself out of the blood-red river Styx, reborn into the lavishly morbid environs of the House of Hades.
"New guy," he said to himself, working out the cricks in his neck. As the poets said, death was but a sleep, and in his experience dying often left you feeling like you'd been lying in a really uncomfortable position. Possibly on top of something. Like a set of keys. "Doesn't move like the rest of them. Ouch."
Limply, he flapped his wet clothing, and trailed Styx-water down the hall through which the dead entered the house of his father Hades. He was really feeling unpleasantly damp, and as usual, was drying from the soles of the feet upwards. He could really do with a wander through burning Asphodel right about now. You were never damp there. Unpleasantly hot, yes. Attacked by ferocious bone-hydras, yes. Occasionally on fire, yes. But not damp.
Really, his father was very inconsiderate with the lack of provisions for the shades of the dead who pulled themselves from this place. Zagreus ought to do something about it. The benefits would be threefold; the dead would find their entrance to the House of Hades somewhat more pleasant, his father would complain less about puddles, and of course, it would help him dry out faster. Maybe a giant roaring fire. Or at the very least, some towels.
His pondering had taken him down the broad corridor to where waited the god of Sleep. Hypnos, son of Nyx and brother to death - as well as Zagreus's foster brother and one who he had for most of his life thought was his half-brother. He was, as usual, floating in mid air and asleep on the job. Perhaps it was because Hades was not at his desk, though in all honesty Hypnos had a bravery not known to most men and was willing to nap in front of the Lord of the Underworld, fobbing him off with feeble-yet-elaborate excuses.
Honestly, Zagreus was more impressed by his foster-brother's capability to sleep through Hades' booming complaints. That took a real skill. And yet he somehow always managed to jolt awake when Zagreus tried to sneak past him, as he did just at that moment.
"Oh! Hi! You're back again!" Hypnos said brightly, his long and padded red cloak still wrapped tightly around him. He grabbed for his scrolls. "What killed you this time?"
"I don't want to talk about it." This response had never worked, and proceeded to maintain its previous performance.
"Wow, that looks really unfun," Hypnos said helpfully. "Says here, the cause of death was eye-gouging. Thumbs straight into the eyes, and through them into the brain. Ouchie. Of all the last things you could see, a pair of thumbs is probably not all that great."
"Thank you for that," Zagreus said, flinching with remembered pain. "It was someone new. Know anything about them?"
"Says, uh," Hypnos checked his scroll, "says it was the Ghost of Sparta."
"What's a Sparta? Why's that so special that he's a ghost from there?"
"Sparta is a city in Greece."
"Oh." Zagreus frowned. "Does no one ever die there?"
"Nope! I see a lot of Spartans! They tend to die a lot!"
"So why is it special?"
"I don't know. It's just what he's called in the records. Not even a name. It's redacted. Maybe he's been… what's the word? Oh, it's on the tip of my tongue. It's a really bad thing to do to someone. Taking away their name. Urgh, it's all Latin to me."
Scooping his hair back, Zagreus shrugged. "Well, he must have done something to wind up down in Tartarus."
"Maybe he gouged out lots of other people's eyes," Hypnos suggested.
"It did feel like he had practice." He closed his eyes, rubbing the lids. "Definitely felt practiced."
"Well, head on in. Your father's seeing to something in the administrative chambers, so you might even be able to creep back to your room without him noticing. But maybe you don't want to pass up the chance to talk to him."
"That'd be the day."
"Hey, don't knock it. Him and his sharp remarks are the main way you two interact. You're so lucky. Your dad will acknowledge your presence even when you haven't mucked up! Though I guess in his eyes, you're always mucking up! Wow, we're so much alike!"
"Thanks… thanks, Hypnos," Zagreus said, wandering off. Maybe he'd go for a drink in the bar before heading out again.