Doctor Strange was as good as his word, getting us into the casino, but afterward, he had to leave. He was still cleaning up in Colorado when he was alerted to gusts knocking at his door, apparently, and wanted to get everything wrapped up in a neat little bow before the state police or national guard showed up. I made a note to check the news in the next couple of days.
"People come to places like this for fun?" Kelda asked. I'd explained the concept of a casino to her on the way over but actually seeing it was something. "The lights, the noise, even the air feels wrong... It's all so,.."
"Disorienting?" I supplied.
"Yes. Why would anyone come to a place like this?"
A place like this being a long and wide hallway lined end to end with slot machines and various tables all staffed with various Grecco-Roman mythological figures.
"Some people like it," I replied, "others are desperate to fulfill their dreams and see gambling as their best or only chance to fund it."
"Some of us don't really have a choice," said a fit blonde Atlantean woman in a green bikini sitting at one of the machines. "For every living person who comes here to gamble there's at least one of us that's dead but isn't ready to move on. So we stay here, hoping to be revived."
"That's sad," Kelda said.
"It's not bad here, really" the blue woman replied. "Other in-between realms are boring, but at least here there's stuff to do. And they get Elvis in here to perform every few weeks, which is nice."
Kelda looked at me and asked. "Who is this Elvis?"
"A mortal singer, known as the King of Rock and Roll," I explained. "Which was a style of music that first became popular in the 1950s, due to his fame and skill at performing it. Both Rock and Roll in general and Elvis, in particular, were very influential on music development in Midgard for decades to come, though it should be noted that a number of his more famous songs were written or first performed by others who never quite received due credit."
"Why call it rock and roll?" Kelda continued to ask
"Because when you're listening to it, it sort of makes you want to dance in a way where you're rocking your shoulders and rolling your hips," I said while demonstrating as best as I could. "I could probably show you better if I had the right kind of music but..." I trailed off as I realized I'd basically said I wanted to do a semi-suggestive dance for her.
"It'd be nice to see that and... Are you alright? You're getting flushed again." damn it!
"I'm fine. Maybe a little overstimulated," Poor choice of words! Course correct, course correct! "From the lights and bells and stuff I mean."
"So wait," Kelda said as if her train of thought just jumped the tracks, "I thought the people of Midgard only lived a century, if he rose to prominence decades ago how is he still performing?"
"So funny story about that, he supposedly died in 1977," I began, "but a few years ago there was an invasion by the Skrulls, a race of shapeshifters from another world, and when our forces thwarted it they were forced to return a number of people they'd abducted, placed in stasis, and replaced. Mostly heroes and their affiliates but right there among them was The King in his prime."
Nobody knows the full story, but the going theory is that the infiltrator went off the ranch and let the fame get to his head. Honestly, you'd think that 'turns out Elvis is alive' would have been a bigger deal but I guess the news of the Invasion in general sort of washed it out.
Kelda looked at me skeptically, "You're not just making up stories to entertain me, are you?"
"...You're a direct blood descendant the union of a giant wolf and a man made of fire and you find this hard to believe?" I asked, just as skeptically, "Seriously?"
Kelda seemed to shrink all of a sudden, "I see your point but could you not say that out loud?" She asked quietly. "My mother and father want me to take pride in being a child of all the realms, but... Being the kin of the two monsters prophesized to destroy the world come the Twilight of The Gods isn't something I wish for people to know."
Well, now I felt like shit. "I'm sorry," I mumbled.
"It's alright," Kelda said. "But let's... Excuse me, M'lady?" She asked the Atlantean woman, "We're on a quest, could you kindly point us in the direction of Styx?"
The woman pointed off in the distance. "All the way at the end, where there isn't a wall and you sometimes see lightning. But I'm going to warn you, Charon left to investigate something over a month ago and hasn't been back since."
"That's fine," I replied. "And thank you, miss..."
"Namorita," she replied.
"Like... The Submariner?" I asked.
"He's my cousin," Namorita confirmed. "What's he been up to lately? I haven't heard much of what goes on out there since I died."
"He's in prison."
"...I don't know if I'm surprised or not," she said awkwardly.
We marched down the hall after that, not stopping until we came to a not-wall that opened up to grey stormy skies and a fierce, swiftly flowing river of great width whose dark opaque waters swirled and surged violently. I immediately felt a sense of incredible dread upon laying eyes on it, but I'd come too far to turn back now.
After making note that none of the casino patrons were looking this way, I withdrew the wine bottle that Doctor Strange had provided and kneeled before the... Honestly, there wasn't really a bank here. I'd say a dock but docks don't have walls.
Whatever, I knelt at the edge of the river, Kelda getting down beside me, and swallowed my nerves.
"Styx the implacable," I began, "Styx the greatest and holiest of rivers, on whom the gods swear their oaths. Eldest of the daughters of the Oceans and the Seas, we bring onto an offering and beseech you for your aid in our quest."
A patch of water in the dreadful river before us began to bubble and slowly from the rapids rose a figure both beautiful and inhuman. Much as you would expect a nymph to look based on the marble sculptures and classical paintings, Styx had the form of a fit and healthy woman in the prime of her life with flawlessly smooth skin, adorned only by her long dark hair.
What I doubt most of the artists who might wish to depict such a goddess may have predicted was the nature of her eyes, scarlet as blood and pupils like some kind of a predatory bird. Nor would I suppose they would have predicted the dull, stone grey of her skin or the stern expression that clashed with her youthful face. Honestly, that was the most striking about her, you expect Nymphs to be young women and she clearly was but at the same time, everything about her appearance and expression and how she carried herself conveyed age and maturity and the paradox of a woman who was both young and ancient was fucking with the small, panicking animal part of my brain. My instincts were screaming that the beauty was a ruse, that this woman was a dangerous predator, and that I needed to flee immediately but I smothered them and held fast.
The moisture from her waters dripped away from her far too fast to be nature, as if the river that shared her name dared not disrespect its mistress by clinging to her unnecessarily, and the goddess stood unimpeded and still atop the river itself.
"Present your offering, supplicant," she said in a voice that tickled my ear much like trying to clean it with a paring knife might.
I held out the bottle and it ripped itself free from my grip and slowly floated to the outstretched hand of the beautiful yet dreadful goddess who took it by the neck.
"Titan," Styx said unprompted.
"Beg pardon?"
"The thoughts and prayers of supplicants as they relate to me are as if plain print on an open scroll. You have been thinking of me as a mere goddess, but while my younger siblings are such, I as the greatest of the Oceanids am a Titan."
I swallowed the fear-bile that began to well in my throat. "My sincerest apologies, oh great Styx. I meant no disrespect."
Styx did not respond. Rather, she tore the cork free from the bottle and held it to her nose. I dared not presume how she found the aroma, but shortly afterward she took a swig straight from the bottle. She seemed to let the mouthful rest on her palette for a moment before swallowing.
"Your offering pleases me," she said as she recorked the bottle. A tendril of water emerged from the river and she gently placed the wine in its firm grasp before the tendril dragged it down into the depths. "Now, explain to me your quest and why you seek my aid in it?"
"A malevolent God of Carnage threatens the mortal world," I explained, "and should he succeed in slaughtering all life he will likely turn his eyes to other realms. I seek the power by which to defeat him and for that, I must undergo a ritual."
"How do you believe I can assist you?" Styx continued.
"The aid I sek from you is two-fold, oh great Styx. The first is that one of the components for the ritual can only be obtained in Olympus, yet the only means I have of reaching it requires travel through Hades," I swallowed nervously, "and even if Charon had not gone missing I lack the means of paying his fee."
"So you invoke me for safe passage across my waters?" Styx asked without asking.
"Yes, Oh Great Titan."
"And the other?"
"For the ritual to succeed, I must be thoroughly cleaned and purified," I explained. "And ordinary soap and water won't do. I need to—"
"You wish to be bathed in my waters, as my niece Thetis did to her infant son Achilles and gain from it the same gift bestowed upon him. To be purged of weakness and flaw and impurity, to be left strong, healthy, and beautiful forever, never to be harmed or sullied by any mortal force."
"Yes, great Lady Styx," I replied.
Styx looked to Kelda next. "And you... A foreigner, not mortal but not a god and certainly not of Olympian or Titanian descent... What role do you play in this quest?"
"I am a humble smith," Kelda said confidently. "The ritual that will give Maria the power invokes the imagery of the forge, and if she be willing I shall conduct the necessary actions to forge her into the being who possesses the powers she needs."
Styx turned back to me. "You wish to be a god?"
"Yes, Lady Styx."
Back to Kelda. "Then you are a fool."
"Could you explain that, Lady Styx?" I asked.
"As I said, she is not mortal but not a god," the dreadful Titan explained. "The sorts of forces that would be necessary to forge a mortal into a god, even a mortal as powerful and touched by the Gods as you are, young supplicant, would be immense. The chances of someone who is not already an immortal conducting such a ritual unharmed are slim... But you knew that, child of ice and fire, did you not?"
I shifted a glance to Kelda who was now looking away from both myself and Styx. "I am a descendant of gods and giants. My dream is to be a God of the Forge. If I forge a god, then... I felt the risk was worth it. Besides, Maria seems to be a perfectly nice person and if I am harmed, it would be for something more meaningful than—"
"No!" I interrupted. "It, no. I've already hurt people to get this far and I already feel bad about it. I won't... You... I know we only met today but you are a wonderful person and I'd never be able to forgive myself if something happened to you while doing this... If the choice is between Godhood and your well being then..."
Styx began clapping.
"I was not sure if I would grant your requests, child," she said and I noticed several more nymphs begin to poke their heads out of the waters. They were as dark and severe as Styx, but despite giving off the impression of sarks inshummed waters did not inspire even a fraction as much dread. "But your honesty and genuine concern for another, combined with the nobility of your goal... I will have my handmaidens bring you into my waters and ensure you are both bathed thoroughly in them, with not a single point of weakness like the overlooked heel of my grandnephew. They will then conduct you to the far bank, and I will grant you a minor blessing that shall, for one trip only, ensure that the demons of Hades or minions of Pluto shall leave you be." Styx looked to Kelda. "While not fully immune to the harm of immortal forces, the strength granted by being purified in my waters should ensure your safety during your ritual."
"You are a kind and generous deity, Lady Styx," Kelda answered.
Two of the minor nymphs of the River Styx swam over and climbed into the hall, hands outstretched.
Kelda and I each took the hand of one minor maiden and then without warming were dragged into the dark depths of the river.
It felt as if I was freezing and burning at the same time. And not in the "so cold it burns" way, where your nerves can't tell the difference between temperatures at the far extremes, but as if I was literally frozen solid and on fire at the same time. There was also a painful tingle as if every inch of my body had been jammed full of taser prongs. the air was sucked from my lungs and replaced with dark water and even though I didn't need to breathe anymore my mind was clouded by the panic of drowning.
Moments later, I felt hands over every surface of my body, writhing around, as if scrubbing the flaws and impurities from my very being.
After what felt like an eternity, I found myself thrust upon the shore, kneeling and coughing up the bitter waters of Styx, my heart pounding like the hoofbeats of a thousand startled horses, and enough adrenaline to kill a moose flowing through my veins.
It took a whole minute to settle down and find the strength to push myself from kneeling to sitting. I noticed Kelda also seemed worse for wear and... Either the river had destroyed her clothes or Styx's Handmaidens had stolen them because she was now dressed in a grey toga. I tried to ignore how pretty she looked with wet hair.
It was then that I realized that I'd been forced back into my true form.
After a few more moments, we could stand, though we had to help each other up and lean on each other for support when Styx emerged from her river once more and stepped upon the shore with us.
"You should count yourselves fortunate," she said. "Many have sought to gain the power of my grandnephew by bathing in my waters and not lived to tell the tale... Of course, you are the first ones who bothered to ask."
Once our strength had returned to us and we could stand apart, by which time we had both completely dried off, Styx came up to us and laid a chaste kiss on each of our foreheads. She was completely unbothered by being poked in the face by my horns.
"With this minor gesture of my affection," she declared, "you carry a touch of my power until you leave Hades. None of the forces within shall come to bother you, lest they seek my wrath. I bid you good fortune on your journey to Olympus," she said and stepped over the bank to vanish back within the depths of her waters.
Kelda and I turned away from the River and I began leading her in the direction of something I recognized from the memories I'd inherited from Dr. Foster.
Kelda was singularly focused on her hands. "My calluses are gone," she muttered.