My memories moved like ripples on water as stones jumped forth on its surface, until they vanished – forever unseen. The scenes were shown like blurry photographs casting white smoke on their sides. People's faces were filled with grief. I was at the cemetery again. The atmosphere was cold and grey, fog covered the small plot of land. Their women wrapped their shawls around their shoulders as they wept. The men tug their coats, glancing from one face to another. A silver overcast hovered over a lone coffin, surrounded by grievers and planked by two grave diggers. They all had a familiar look on their face, like death was something they did not fathom but nonetheless, inevitable. The face of the ghost was as unclear as my memory. The gravestones looked much lighter against the bleakness of the scene in front of me.
"Let us go," my companion said in his deep and silky voice. His face and name slowly disappeared from the recess of my mind. All I could see was that he reached a dark hand towards the featureless ghost, then tapped my shoulder. The world turned black as we faded. That was all that is to remember from that time, the final moment I had in the mortal world. The events that took toll after that dissipated every time I tried to reach for them. I must have sunk into a deep sleep – dreams fleeting in and out, but never concrete.
I could not remember the very moment that I opened my eyes. The very first memory that appeared was the shabby rooftop. I sat on the edge of the rooftop, which seems to be a very old building, judging from the paint cracks on the wall. It made me wonder why of all places, I woke up here. My energy wavered, feeling a wave of energy vanish within me.
Huge structures of concrete loomed ahead. The bright lights from the city emitted an unfamiliar energy, far from London, the last city I could remember. It was weird that I was able to grasp at that memory, it failed me each time I tried to reach beyond the moments beyond that time.
The air was thick with vapor. People on the streets continued to chatter as they blew their knuckles and stuffed their hands into their pockets. The cold did not bother me, I enjoyed its presence.
I could feel movement below me and there were also sudden flashes of light from the dirty windows. Still, I continued to idly thump my boots against the walls. Above the lights, the skyline turned into a mix of dark blue and purple as the sun completely disappeared beneath the horizon. I kept rethinking why I was here, where was I before this? Surely, I was at a different time. Everything did not feel right.
"Zagreus," a deep monotonous voice called behind me. I looked over my shoulders. I saw a man hiding behind the shadow of a rusty billboard frame. I could faintly see his outline.
"Huh?" I uttered as I slowly stood up, still disoriented and lacking my balance. I walked towards him with uncertainty. He sensed my puzzlement. I did not take long before a hearty laugh escaped him. He must have seen the confusion in my face as he continued to chuckle. But clearly, I was not finding my predicament that amusing.
"I see you have just woken up from your slumber. It seems that you forgot to change your clothes since you slept during that century, eh?" he remarked. I looked at my clothes. I was wearing some black trousers, leather shoes, a crisp shirt with a collar and a frock with a vest underneath. I was fairly sure I lost a hat on the way.
My brows furrowed, pondering why this mysterious shadow man or whatever he was decided to critique my clothes instead of addressing my bewilderment.
"Enough with the mocking, who are you?" I asked tersely.
"Why, don't you remember me?" his voice changed, it was no longer deep and droning. It adapted a much layback and genial tone.
It struck me as condescending, pushing my urge to punch him in the gut once he said another word.
Before I tore into him, he stepped away from the shadows. He was a man in his mid-20s, he wore brown trousers and a white shirt (which did not have a collar, strange). He had magnificent amber eyes and dark brown curly hair. He was lanky but stood with authority. Oddly, his aura felt familiar, yet I could not place a memory of him. Maybe that was why he knew my name, because we have met before.
For moments, I stared at him. At one point, he turned into a ten-year-old so quickly that when I blinked, he was normal again. It was like his form changed in just a snap.
"I could sense your anger Zagreus. Such temper might cause your downfall. But I understand, waking up so suddenly like that could mess up with your mind. You do not appear as if you have entirely lost your memories. Can you remember me?"
Upon hearing his words, my anger boiled down. I realized he knew that I had troubles with my memories. Despite of that, I tried as hard as I can to remember his name.
"No… I don't," I frowned, squeezing my mind to no avail.
"Perhaps you can now," he said as his form changed momentarily. He appeared to be a wizened man that wore a blue cloak. His silver beard glistened against the darkness. His eyes were pure white.
"Wait… your Chronos… the keeper of time," I said, surprised by the sudden flash of memory in my mind. He returned to his younger form.
"That is right Zagreus," he smiled jovially.
"If you are Chronos… then you must know why I am here. What is this place? And why does it feel so wrong to be here?" I asked as I surveyed my surroundings. It was still there, I thought I veil would be lifted when I remembered Chronos' name.
"You have been asleep for a more than a century, Zagreus. This is no longer London, this is New York City," he motioned warily to my surroundings.
For a time, I was no longer concern on where I was. I was sleeping for that long? It felt only hours to me. Maybe was why it was all fuzzy and weird. But why did I sleep for that long? What truly happened to me?
"Di-did I really slept that long?" I thought asking time himself would enlighten me on that matter. He pursed his lips and nodded sadly.
I was growing impatient. I wanted to have definite answers, but he was quite unwilling to give me some. "Why was I transported here out of all place then?" I gave another question a try.
"I have been wondering about that since I woke up. This place is so bright and loud, far from the city I once was in. Perhaps you can somehow fill me in."
Chronos' sympathetic gaze turned into a stormy one, like his magnificent eyes were seeing through a veil of smoke. "There is a reason why you have been transported here Zagreus. I could not tell so much, child," him addressing me as a child sent shivers down my spine for some reason, "like all of the gods, your essence must have been deeply rooted to this place. Your awakening signifies a lot in which you must find out yourself. This is the place of the new and powerful civilization. No doubt on why you have been teleported here more than anywhere."
"The other gods… they are here, but -" the first words felt so sour to say. Before I could finish my question, Chronos' pointed to the tallest building that rose higher than ever against the evening sky. Its spire pierced through the clouds like a bolt of lightning. It glowed gold among the other small buildings around it.
"It's called the Empire State Building," he continued "The Olympians and other minor gods are currently residing there."
"Are you staying there too?"
"I do not. Just like the other protogenoi, I am incorporated into the space which I embody: time. I keep the equilibrium that way just as before, in case you do not remember," he explained. At the mention of protogenoi my head buzzed, and I winced. I knew somehow that they were strong forces that bind the universe, a force of order, yet why was I bothered too much by it?
"But from time to time (get it?) I switch to my physical form just to observe certain happenings and to enjoy the food here. Pizza is quite great here by the way," as he said the word pizza, his seriousness broke off. Something about that food must have been magical to disturb a protogenos.
"How did you find me then?" I wondered aloud.
"You are strong to sense Zagreus. Your energy sent tendrils across the space that I am bound to. Morpheus also mentioned a disturbance, though he was so unclear about it. I figured that it was connected to the strange aura I felt, so I followed it. Lo and behold, I have found the son of Hades finally awake from his slumber. But surely, you have not forgotten about your father, or did you?"
I may have been the most oblivious deity in the world, but my mind allowed me to remember even the faintest detail of who I was. I was Zagreus, son of Hades, King of the Underworld. My mother was Persephone, Goddess of Spring. It tugged my heart the wrong way when I thought of them not caring about me at all. A wave of pride immediately poured over such idea.
"They do care about you Zagreus, even for the slightest bit," he said as if he discerned my thoughts through my expression. "Yet, there are some things that go beyond what you gods can grasp and control."
"What do you mean?" his answers only deepened my confusion.
"There will come a time when you will know Zagreus. I have chosen not to interfere the fate of others. I only observe the events on my wheel, the rest is for you to weave. You may feel powerless now, but you will soon find a way to destroy the divine binds that restrain your power. Until then, I hope you have decided which path you will follow. The past, the present, or the future," his voice became much omnipotent, making me tremble. He seems to know a lot, but not all of it. It is for me to weave as he said.
I wondered in silence what he meant. What were these binds? His amber eyes glowed, as he squinted at my attire.
"The aspects of this time will morph gradually into your mind. At any rate, mortals will not appreciate your frock because it is not Halloween yet," he pointed out. I was surprised how he swerved the matter to my clothes again. In the back of my mind, I took note to learn what 'Halloween' meant.
He snapped his fingers and a bundle of clothes landed at my foot, "That will keep you in style as far as I am concerned. You might need the help of others in this journey of yours. The gods are not within those grounds, you will know why soon enough," he began to glow.
"Why can't you -?!" I exclaimed but I was completely cut off. I did not understand why I was being left in the dark that much. I enjoyed darkness, but not this kind.
"Do not sulk too much, child. We shall meet again," Chronos' final words reverberated in a whirlwind of dust and smoke.
All that was left for me was a bundle of random clothes and a heavy feeling within me. I could hardly make sense of anything, much less the only details I could grasp upon in Chronos' words.
I sighed, "I guess it is up to me to figure this out," I looked at the sprawl of lights below me. What a great start.
With the divine grace of fate, I managed to go downstairs and found an empty bathroom in the fourth floor. The tenants of the apartment might have occupied only the first to third floor. The rest were abandoned and grimy.
I bolted the lock on the wooden door. The bathroom had cracked tiles and a bit of dirt here and there, but it still had running water. I looked at the mirror, seeing my reflection for the first time is quite strange for me. I had a black hair, which was kept neat and styled in the nineteenth century sort of way, slick and flattened back. My eyes looked hazel brown in the mirror but then it turned to a glowing light blue whenever I look at it too closely. Maybe it was my human form messing things for me. I looked tired and worn out because of the dark circles below them, my excessive sleep brought much. My complexion was pale (like everything in the underworld). But not as pale as the dead, maybe I used to look that way when I was asleep. My clothes looked new and prim like a buried man's.
Seeing my ghastly image made me thought again of what Chronos said. I felt and actually looked powerless. Yet, my presence caused some kind of disturbance in his space of power. Maybe that was why I was constraint from my power. Like a fool, I outstretched my hand, as if reaching for something, and tried to tap that energy within me. Unfortunately, the mirror was still intact, and my reflection appeared to be much hopeless than before.
I began to wash my face. I removed my coat and stared at my forearms. I was trying to find the binds Chronos was talking about. I expected to see a mark or unbreakable metal bands wrapped around my arms (which I should have felt if there was), but there were none of those. Even if there was such, I probably would have been unable to break them. I sighed and removed my shirt. I used to be lean and built (as far as I can remember), but sleep must have made me much frailer and thinner. Also, It must have been because I appeared to be aged down a little. Seeing my now timid frame, I put on the gray shirt Chronos gave me. I belted on my new trousers, black ripped jeans (it said on the stitched tag thing). He also gave me footwear, heavy boots with a bunch of laces to tie on, great, they didn't have this in the last century because people did not have the luxury of time to untangle and wound the laces. To avoid getting excessively cold, again not that I'm bothered, I don on a leather jacket with a hood on it. The jacket was much uncomfortable to wear than my frock, nonetheless, I complied with Chronos' advice. The last thing I wanted was people sneering at me.
My reflection stared at me. I felt weird and surprised at my new appearance. I could sense that Chronos thought black was befitting for me to wear. I looked more on edge and rugged due to my clothes and the general feel I got from my surroundings.
I messed up my hair a bit with a little water, just to remove its oiliness and slickness. My hair grew just a little longer despite of a century passing by. Some of it swept over my forehead, urging me to brush it up, I tend to ruffle it up anyway. I felt satisfied with what I have done, so I folded my old clothes and left it beside the sink, hopefully someone finds it for Halloween. It was time for me to leave.
The door clicked as I unlocked it. I could hear footsteps from below. There were shouting and loud music jumping up and down the floors, echoing across the empty space. I tried to minimize the sound I produced whenever I took a step, somehow, the boots made it a bit difficult for me. I rounded the corners trying to find the nearest exit other than the stairs that led to the third floor. I hope no one wandered in the floor at such time.
The corridors were very grimy. There were spots that were covered in green muck. The doorknobs were coated in rust. Five doors from the bathroom, I tried to open a door that had an 13 embedded on it. It creaked loudly as I tried to peer into it. Sadly, there was nothing but pure darkness inside and the rancid smell of the peeling floorboards and the old water from the pipes. Back in the last century, I had doors that lead me to various parts of the Underworld. These gateways were usually found in places linked to the Underworld. By the overall feel of the place, I thought it was bound to have a gateway somewhere. It was only a hellish feeling, nothing else. I should have known that it was much too easy to presume it.
I continued to walk through the corridors. Listening intently for any sounds, I heard the distant wind from the other side of the hallway. I slowly made my way towards it. The howls of the wind came from a window at the farthest end of the hallway. It was the only window that I have seen that was neither bolted shut with wooden boards or covered in grime. Its frame was covered with molds. As I approached it, I noticed that there was a sign that hang lopsidedly above it that said, 'Fire Exit'. The sign lost its neon gleam, making it much unnoticeable from the distance. I glanced out of the window; I had a much close view of the mortals below from where I was. There were no hansoms, no busy tradesmen, or even thieves that loitered around (or are there?). All I can see were bright lights that caused me to flinch. People no longer wore long coats, they wore shirts with different prints on them, some even wore strange suits. I guess time did bode with my memory, I gradually learned what these things were called and the place I was at, probably Chronos' form of help. But I still did not know what happened to the others or the reason I slept for such a long time. I tried to jog my memory for some kind of clue, to give me more answers about my location, but I have nothing.
As far as my mind allows me, I can only remember the last century I was at. It was during the Victorian era in London. I had different guises when I explored its streets. I can sense everything before, death after death. It was a place booming in commerce but was also littered with crime. I was the shadow that watched people weep for the lost. Then, I vanished – the point where I lost every memory of.
There were more noises outside. It drowned the eerie music coming from downstairs. The window had a landing on the other side that was unsurprisingly rusty and looked quite perilous. It was connected to a set of stairs fixed on the wall. The rail handle lost a couple of metal bars which did not reassure me that much. Nevertheless, I carefully placed my foot from the window onto the landing. It made a screeching sound that I hoped was drowned by the loud sounds coming from the street. I checked if the stair was strong enough to handle my weight. It squeaked in agony, but I took a step as quickly and quietly as I could. I tried not to draw too much attention whenever I passed the windows of the preceding floors. I did not peer into it, but I could see in the corners of my eyes rooms that were covered in peeling floral wallpaper. The inhabitants were grim looking families that were either huddled up on the floor or eating their meager meals. That scene was as close as I can get from the Victorian era.
I jumped onto the back alley of the apartment. Mice began to squeal and scatter upon hearing my presence. There was a huge metal dumpster on the left end of the alley. It provided no exits as it was blocked by a metal mesh gate. Cars were fleeting from the streets, their strange colors blending in with the dark grey asphalt. People walked on the sidewalks, chatting and enjoying their late-night coffee. I kept myself within the shadows so they could not notice me. The clothes were doing their part as I can see, though, sooner or later I had to show myself even if I was completely clueless about the place.
Chronos told me about a building. "What was it emp…emp…" my memory was failing me again. Maybe it was an effect of the long slumber I had, but I could definitely swear to the River Styx that it was only hours not an entire century. Chronos also mentioned about the gods staying in that building, could he mean their new abode? Even if I knew its location, I had a feeling in my gut that I would not be welcomed there. But it was more than a feeling, I simply knew it.
Author's Note: Err... Hey! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. It's my first time writing a fanfic so I really dunno if the length of each chapter is okay. The story progresses as Zag earns his memories back. Also, reviews are much appreciate, so please do leave a review (つ ͜ʖ )つ.