Caleb had never been more thrilled. Had anyone suggested he’d one day navigate the river Styx alongside Charon and Death herself, he would have burst into incredulous laughter. Such an adventure was beyond his wildest dreams. And yet, even the prospect of being devoured by a monstrous beast, doomed to a millennia-long digestion, couldn’t dampen his spirits. No amount of peril could make him regret this journey.
It took every single ounce of his self-control not to point at everything, shriek with excitement and giggle like a schoolgirl. Each rock outcropping and sinister shadow held wonder. Every menacing creak and groan from the boat contained unbridled awe. All the flashes of souls trapped in the water were entrancing. Glimpses of monsters and nightmares on the shore held only awe.
The only thing that weighed down his euphoria was the emotions rolling from Styx. A bolt of dread ricocheted through their bond. The bite of shuddering unease was so contrary to her usual steadfastness, was startling.
With that, he forgot the wonders all around as worry supplanted all else. His celebration dimmed, overshadowed by the sight of Styx withdrawn and adrift, her eyes glazed, unseeing, across the murky waters. The emotion lasted just an instant, but long enough for him to recognize the acute despair.
Feeling helpless yet refusing to stand by idly, Caleb did the one thing within his power. He reached for her hand, gripping it tightly, imbued with the silent promise of steadfast support. With the contact, the devastating void that she was experiencing opening up for him. The loss of her calling laid bare. His entire goal now centered on guarding and sheltering her from that too-mortal frailty.
image [https://i.imgur.com/t3CkGQD.png]
“Are you okay?” he asked.
She smiled, a shadow of the once vibrant expression. “I’m fine. Just a little lost.”
He ran his fingers across her knuckles, hoping that something so small would bring her some comfort. “I can’t imagine.”
“I’m afraid that I’ll never get it back, that these souls will remain lost in limbo. That they’ll never find peace or punishment. That I’ll waste away into nothing.” Styx let out a deep breath. “It’s like staring at my failure. Watching in slow motion as I lose everything I am.”
“None of us, mortal, gods, or immortals can know what fate or the Creators have in store.” He squeezed her hand. “But whatever it is, I’ll be here for you.”
Now he held on to her with both hands, keeping her in place, anchoring her to the world, to him. Because if he lost her, if she dissolved into nothing, there would be no more happiness. The sunrise would be hollow. Freshly baked blueberry muffins would be tasteless. Words would hold no joy.
It wouldn’t matter if the Creators themselves descended from the heavens and gifted him with the strongest magic ever. If Styx wasn’t with him, there would be nothing but disappointment.
“I won’t allow anything to happen to you,” he said, his voice cracking. “It didn’t matter if I had to knit you back together with my soul’s frayed strings. With my life’s tattered quilt. With all my unwept tears. With my beating heart holding each fragmented place until you fuse again.”
Styx looked up at him, her eyes wide. “I don’t want that. I’d prefer you whole.”
He smiled, hoping that it was a pure expression not tainted by fear. “I’d prefer to remain whole as well, but I’d also prefer you whole. Perhaps if I just give you a little, you’ll be whole and I’ll be mostly whole.”
“I can’t decide if this is touching or disgusting,” Charon said.
“That’s because the closest you’ve ever gotten to romance is that oar,” Styx replied.
Charon chuckled and nodded. “You’re probably right. Besides, I’m glad you have the mortal. I wouldn’t provide much comfort, and he seems to do a good job.”
Caleb beamed, because he wanted to help, needed to help. It was something small he could do. Inside of his stomach, a strange sort of tickle began. A weird discomfort that reminded him of a stomach virus. Chills wove down his spine. Hopefully, he wasn’t getting sick! A cold would dampen his enjoyment of this new experience.
“Yeah,” Styx said. “I have to admit that Cal has his uses, a pathetic mortal like himself.”
But, somehow, those words didn’t have the bite they used to. Then, when she glanced over at him and their eyes met, he could see the truth.
“I guess all powerful immortal gods need a pathetic mortal sometimes,” Caleb said with a grin.
“Who would have guessed?” Styx squeezed his hand.
“You’ll need to prepare yourself, Death,” Charon said. “Shinigami has been running amuck and been causing havoc in the archives.”
Styx sighed and rubbed her temples. “Are you serious? I told him to knock that shit off. Anubis is already threatening to ban him from the archives. I swear.”
Caleb perked up. “Shinigami? Like the Japanese god of death? The creatures who survive by killing humans to survive?”
“Yes, Shinigami is a deity of the underworld. He’s… interesting.”
“Twisted is more like it,” Charon muttered. “Once, that bastard drilled a hole in my boat, took me a solid day to pry it from the muck on the bottom of the river. I still haven’t gotten all the soul debris from the cracks.”
“Shinigami isn’t bad, he’s just mischievous, and easily bored,” Styx said.
“I can’t wait to meet him!” Caleb announced. “But what is the archives? Can I go? I love archives. Years ago, I was lucky enough to study a few texts in the French National Archives for an entire month! I cried when I entered and saw those rows and rows of words. It was so beautiful.” Caleb sighed wistfully, thinking about how wonderful wandering those aisles were.
Charon let out a breath. “You really are a unique human.”
“Thanks!” Caleb beamed. “That’s a big compliment coming from you. Considering how many humans you see, that’s great. Wow, you must really like me. Hey, Styx.” He jiggled her arm. “Charon likes me! Me!”
Styx grinned. “Yep, he’ll be your biggest fan soon.”
Charon moaned and lurched the boat forward.
“To answer your question,” Styx said. “The Elysian Archives store life books.” She held up her hand and cut off his questions. “Life books are the record of every human in the realm of Earth, past, present, and future. It also houses dangerous magical texts, items, materials. Things like that.”
“That’s so awesome! What’s the most dangerous thing you have? What about the most famous? Prettiest? I want to see!”
Styx shot him a glare, and he calmed down. “The archives contain specialized chambers where souls whose deeds resist easy distinction between virtuous or wicked instead face rigorous examination. Their ultimate fate remaining in limbo until extra scrutiny can determine if redemption or punishment takes precedence.”
“Ohhh! How fantastic! I bet Anubis does that feather weighting thing. I’d love to see that.”
“It’s a little more complicated than just weighing a feather, but yeah, that’s the general idea. It doesn’t happen all the time because most souls are very easy to judge. Sometimes we even need to include Past, Present, and Future to sort things out. The combo of Anubis plus the Fates always gets it right.”
Caleb bounced in his seat. “God, this is so exciting! I get to meet at these big important deities. Who would have guessed! Little, unimportant, magicless me…” His voice trailed off.
This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
“Why are you anxious?” Styx asked.
Caleb glanced at her. “What if they don’t like me?”
Charon chuckled. “Then they’ll torment you.”
Caleb gulped and thought of all the hideous tortures immortal gods could subject to a human. Peeling flesh. Horrible pain. Suffering beyond measure!
“Oh crap! I forgot to turn off the stove at home. Yeah, I have to go back. The garage is open also, that will let in critters. And the heat is too high, my bill will be astronomical. I have to put the trash out too, it’s trash night. Can’t miss trash night. So can you just drop me off? I’ll get out of your hair.”
Styx grabbed his shoulders and squeezed. “Cal, do you think I’d let anyone peel the flesh from your bones? Do you think I’d let you suffer horrible pain?”
He considered the questions. “No. Probably not anyway.”
She slapped his back hard enough for him to lurch forward. “See! Nothing to be nervous about. They’ll love you.” He tried to rub the spot. That little slap hurt more than it had before. Now his entire back was sore from the impact.
“Past, Present, and Future will love you,” Charon said. “Mortals are their thing.”
Styx shot the boat man a death glare. “Over my dead body. Cal is MY mortal.”
“Yeah! I’m her mortal!”
“You’re sure loyal, Cal. Do you wanna know your reward?”
“I’m not asking for a reward.”
“Still, this will be payment enough. Look.”
Caleb faced forward, but only saw indistinguishable darkness, that fathomless black that seemed to exist on its own.
“I don’t…”
image [https://i.imgur.com/4ByVdkY.png]
The depths unfurled gradually, teasing out tastes of what was to come in tiny increments. Diffuse and grainy collection of muted grays that eased from the darkness. Smooth surfaces, stark and haunting against the black. Tendrils of silken stone trickling through the endless void. Caleb leaned forward, desperate to discern real from mirage.
Churning fog bore silent witness as mighty buttressed shoulders pierced the veil of nothing. More bled through purpling fog. Powerful lines of sturdy stone. Smooth arches arcing gracefully. A sketch work of towering sentinels silently protecting.
Diffused torchlight licked waves of intricately carved stone. Fretworks draped the imposing giants now cleaving shadow in two. Wavering halos of golden flame kindled fathomless depths across a marble façade, awakening crystals glimmering in direct defiance to the dark. Everywhere artisans’ genius exposed by firefly glimmers.
This wasn’t just a building. It wasn’t a great cathedral, magnificent castle, or historic temple. No, it was a pure sanctum that encompassed all mortal eras, from ziggurats to unrealized futures. Caleb didn’t have words, didn’t have thoughts, couldn’t express the sight of such a breathtaking structure.
image [https://i.imgur.com/i2bItXR.png]
“Close your mouth,” Charon said. “Might catch flies.”
But Caleb didn’t, he couldn’t. This was the prettiest structure he’d ever seen before.
“I knew you’d love it,” Styx said.
“I love it more than the French National Archives!”
Styx leaned closer. Now they were just a breath apart. Her words let traces of warmth on his cheek. “Do you want to see inside?”
Caleb startled and looked at her, partly because she was so close and her lips were so kissable. But then the words smacked him.
“See. Inside. See inside!? Yes! Yes! A hundred thousand million times, yes!”
“Even if the cost of entry is peeling flesh from bone?” Charon asked.
Caleb stopped and tapped his chin. “Yep. Totally. All those books? All those shelves filled with books? Yeah, I’m going with yes. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that many books! It would be a total dream come true! Even more than meeting you.”
Styx grinned, and for just a moment she was completely unburdened. “More books than you could ever count.”
Caleb gasped. “That many!! No way! Can we go in now?”
She threw her head back and laughed. “What would you do if I said no?”
“I’d cry! I’d burst into tears and flood the world.”
He lurched forward as she smacked his back. “Don’t worry, Cal. I’ve brought you this far. I can’t deny you access to the Elysian Archives. This is where my home is as well.”
“I’m not sure that matters,” Charon said. “My home is there. Most of the immortals have rooms there.”
Unable to help himself, he clapped. “Yay! Goodie goodie! This is going to be considerable fun. Oh, look at that gold detail. How did you get the marble down here? It’s flawless. Oh! Molten rock as decoration, brilliant. Lava as a light source, I love it!”
Caleb knew he was prattling on like an over stimulated schoolboy, but he couldn’t help himself. There were so many things to see, and they were all so beautiful.
“Now I know why you’re so pretty,” he said, bumping Styx lightly.
“What?”
“A pretty building for a pretty girl.”
Then she smacked him, but was smiling. “Cal, don’t say shit like that to me.”
He shrugged. “Why? It’s the truth.”
image [https://i.imgur.com/uNXpU9S.png]
Charon edged the boat up to the shore, a brilliant glittering dock with flickering torches and smooth marble that glittered under the oscillating light. Styx helped him ashore before they bid Charon farewell. Caleb had to be led up the steps because he kept getting distracted and walking into things. He almost plugged off the side before Styx took him by the hand.
“Look at those doors! So much better than the Gates of Paradise. What are the carvings?”
“My version of Dante’s Inferno. I call them Hell’s Truth. It shows the different areas of the Underworld. This panel is salvation, heaven, Elysian, Valhalla, etc. That’s where people who deserve peace go. This panel is hell, damnation, Nastrod, Tartarus, etc. That’s where people go who deserve punishment.”
Intricate details covered every inch in splendor, each figure awash in grace or agony so carefully etched, even microscopic torments shone clear. Life like textures, you could trace skin pores under fingertips. And the scope! Sweeping vistas left Caleb thirsting for a glimpse of the inspiration.
“So vivid.”
“And this is just the door.”
Styx touched the handles, and they swung open, revealing a grand entryway. If the palaces in Italy, China, France, and London had a love child, this was it. Everywhere dripped opulence. Gold, platinum, and priceless gemstones. Fine woods and rock. Silks and fabrics. Statues and busts. Paintings and tapestries. All were beyond anything he’d seen in the mortal world.
“Wow! I bet this place is a bitch to keep clean.”
Styx laughed. “Magic remember.”
“Right, right. Carry on.”
Before he could start his usual barrage of questions, the door across the entryway burst open. A chaotic commotion spread through the tranquil room. But he recognized them all from mythology.
A Shinigami was leading the pack, a pile of books in his slender arms. Black flowing robes billowed out behind him. A mask, its features showing fierceness, covered his face. His form flickered and shifted unnaturally, moving like a living shadow. Pale skin, long black hair, and long nails proved Caleb’s assumption it was a Shinigami.
Anubis followed, shouting as he followed swiftly. The muscular man had a face of a jet black jackal, and was wearing royal Egyptian garb, headdress, and golden jewelry. His god status was on full display.
The final figures to enter the room were three women. One mature, with thousands of threads twisting around her robes. Another motherly, with a single corded rope wrapped about her waist, the last a young woman, with metal glinting off her robes. They were all chatting and cackling between each other.
Styx stood there as Caleb stepped behind her. He didn’t want to face these immortal beings on his own. Nope! He’d gladly hide behind the immortal god of death. She waited patiently as the group ran around the room.
Papers were flying and books fell to the ground.
“I just want to read one!” The Shinigami cried. “Perhaps switch a few pages. You can’t stop all my fun!”
“How dare you!” Anubis shouted. “Desecrating a life book is forbidden!”
“Forbidden!” Shinigami yelled, “everything in this damn place is forbidden.”
“He’s repeating himself,” one woman hollered.
“He’s dooming himself,” another called.
“He’s a moron!” Another cried.
Styx stayed still as Caleb watched the commotion. It was so strange to see these mythological beings acting so human. An errant paper smacked Styx’s cheek. Finally, the small procession seemed to notice that Styx was there.
The confusion stopped in an instant; the figures froze, and the papers settled to the ground. All eyes turned to them, and the air froze before chaos erupted once more.
“Styx!”
“Death has returned!”
“Finally.”
“About time.”
“I missed you sooooooooooooooo much!!”
Caleb retreated further behind her as the swarm of figures descended onto them.
“Where have you been?”
“What’s been happening?”
“Why do you smell funny?”
“Did you bring something to eat?”
Styx sighed. “Calm down, calm down. I was just here the other day.”
“Did you remember to wipe your feet?”
“Are you here for long?”
“Where is Bony?”
“Why are you wearing that?”
“Did you see Charon?”
“You didn’t bring Russ, did you?”
“Did the others come with you?”
“I’ve missed chasing Rowan around.”
“I want to wrestle Valerie!”
“Stop!” the middle-aged woman shouted. Her voice caught the corners of the room and echoed endlessly.
Everyone snapped to silence and looked at her. Even Caleb poked his head out from behind Styx.
“Why in the hell did you bring a mortal here?”
Now all the eyes were on him. He paled and became suddenly preoccupied with ensuring they didn’t direct their endless questions toward him. The idea of even speaking to these immortals made him super nervous. They might ask a question he couldn’t answer, then he’d feel bad, then he’d never be able to look at them again!
“Everyone, this is Cal.”
Styx stepped to the side, grabbed an elbow and shoved him forward. He stood there sheepishly, wondering if they would make fun of his discount shoes.
“Uh, hi,” he waved. “I’m Caleb Alexander Mitchell, born June 30th, 1980 in Portland, Oregon. I, um, enjoy popcorn, blueberry muffins, and earl gray tea.”
He paused. “My favorite books to read are history, fantasy, and old grimoires, not in that order. I, uh, like long walks in the rain, except if my socks get wet. But I usually wear rain boots, so that’s not a problem. My idea of a perfect date is April 25th, because it’s not too hot, not too cold. All you need is a light jacket.”
Hesitating the curious eyes made him continue. “Ah, I sleep with four pillows, and use bamboo sheets.”
He scratched his head, not knowing what else he should say about himself. “Oh, and I wear my socks three times before I change them. I think that about covers it? Maybe? Perhaps? Probably. Yeah.”
image [https://i.imgur.com/CzVxcD7.png]