Rivers of the Dead - 36. 4-5 - The Big Picture

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Caleb’s eyes fluttered open. That was no dream, he knew that for certain. He’d heard Liz’s voice — and Ethan’s — and he could sense their presence. He even sensed the presence of another, less familiar person. As he gathered his sense, his mind dwelled on the identity of the last one who’d been there, remembering Liz’s words at the beginning. Jake. Jake Sanders? Why would Jake be there?

But overshadowing all of that was one thing; Ethan already lived on the other side of the veil. He’d already gone back to the world of the living, which meant . . . Orpheus had lied to him from the very beginning.

“Ethan,” he mumbled, sitting up. He was in the bottom of the boat, but the boat no longer moved through the water. It rested on a rocky shoreline, Charlie standing tall at the bow, with Orpheus staring at him critically.

“We’ve arrived, Caleb,” Orpheus said. But there was a difference now. While Caleb wasn’t sure what had triggered it, he knew Orpheus had at least played a part in ending his connection to the others. It was just after Ethan had asked if they were together. Ethan must’ve tried to warn him.

He didn’t anticipate a straight answer, but he asked the question anyway, thinking it would be expected of him. “What happened?”

“You started to fall into the Styx, but we were able to catch you in time," Orpheus replied. "Its energies must have overwhelmed you. You were unconscious for some time. Apparently, you didn’t drink any of it, since you’re speaking just fine.”

“I was . . ." Caleb said, trying to think of an answer that wouldn't tip off how much he knew about Orpheus, while still acknowledging where he went. Orpheus knew, after all, that he'd been speaking to his friends. Caleb could see it in his eyes. He wanted to protect them and had a feeling if Orpheus thought they'd been successful in their mission, they wouldn't be safe. "I was dreaming. I could hear things.”

“Like at the Cocytus? The whisperings of the rivers?” Orpheus asked.

“Maybe," Caleb replied, shrugging noncommittally. "It felt different.”

Orpheus seemed satisfied by this answer. “Nothing to worry about, Caleb. As I said, we’ve arrived. We can talk about what you saw after you meet with The Ruler, if you so desire.”

“Where do I go?” Caleb asked, rising to his feet. He focused on maintaining his balance as he walked forward, then stepped out of the boat and onto the shore. All he saw was a desolate landscape of boulders and dead trees in front of him, but the elevation continued to increase, and a mighty mountain rose in the distance. It looked familiar, like something he'd dreamed about or saw in another life.

Orpheus pointed toward the mountain and said, “You’ll see it. You’ll recognize it. Everybody does.”

“Up the slope, then?” Caleb asked.

Orpheus nodded. “Yes. I cannot go there with you.”

“Why not?”

“I am your guide, and nothing more," Orpheus replied. Caleb tried to read the lie in his expression, but he could not detect one. "This," Orpheus continued, "You must do alone.”

Caleb nodded and turned away from Orpheus. He understood. Even if Orpheus turned out to be The Ruler as Caleb suspected, he understood having to make the trek alone. He came seeking, and he had found; he only needed to walk the last bit of the way alone.

The sharp stones beneath his bare feet were uncomfortable, and even though he tried to will the ground to be smooth as he'd changed the temperature before, he could not do so here. This part of the land resisted him, as if it had to be the way it was and no other way. He found this peculiar, considering the laws of the realm as he'd so far experienced them, but he decided to accept it and move forward.

As he moved away from the shore, the sharp rocks became less frequent, and he soon came upon a dirt path which led upward. The path appeared unused, no footprints at all, yet the existence of the path itself told him that others had walked there. He wondered if it rained in The Underworld, and if so, where the rain came from. Did it wash away the signs of creatures passing, as rain did in the living world?

He felt eyes at his back and glanced over his shoulder, expecting to see Orpheus watching him from the shoreline, but when he looked he had to stop and turn around, taking in the sight. He didn't feel he had climbed very high, yet he looked down on the world below him as if he stood on the tallest mountain in the realm.

He could see all the way to the Acheron, which appeared many miles away. The great city of Elysium rose up halfway between him and the Acheron, a splendid metropolis to behold from this vantage point. He could sense all the souls there, living out their peaceful paradises. Despite the distance, he could make out the fountain of Phlegethon, and the fountain of Lethe, both beautiful in their own sense.

And he could see the Styx, less a river and more a swamp, surrounding everything and wrapping around The Underworld in all its spiteful glory. He understood its hidden beauty now, the way Orpheus had described it. The Styx didn't flow through The Underworld, it flowed out of it, to the outer reaches. It protected its citizens, stealing their hate and letting them live out their afterlife without spite.

If it rained in The Underworld, it must rain over The Styx only, for only that great swamp could contain the waters of the Dead. Caleb knew, and in that moment, he was overcome. He sat down on the trail, looking down at the world below him, and he wept. He wept for the dead, who knew not the beauty which surrounded them. He wept for the living, who knew not the clarity of death. But he did not weep for himself, for he had never seen the world with such a perfect understanding than he did now. His soul felt whole for the first time he had ever known.

But there remained a task to complete, he reminded himself, and after he could weep no more, he stood. Only then did he catch the signs of movement below him; three dogs rose up off their haunches, cat-like eyes following his every move. He smiled at them, knowing they, too, understood the world as only the truly dead could.

Caleb crouched once more, and the dogs approached him. He held his hand out for them to sniff, and one by one they approached him. Their cold snouts brushed against his fingertips and he scratched each one behind its ears.

"You're not so bad, are you?" Caleb murmured. "You're just a part of this place after all, and there's no reason to fear you, is there?"

The dogs didn't offer any form of answer, and so Caleb turned his back on them and resumed his ascent. He climbed for what seemed like hours, and what seemed like seconds. A part of him marked time as a man, and a part of him marked time as The Underworld did. Despite the difference, both made sense to him, and he drew comfort from the fact that he retained his humanity, even after everything he'd come to understand.

He'd drunk deeply from the Mnemosyne, but he did not feel mad. Yet, he knew, this too was a form of madness. The thought made him smile as he crested one last ridge and saw his destination. Orpheus spoke the truth; he recognized it instantly. Cherry Creek Cave stood before him, it's gaping maw calling to him as if welcoming him home.

His heart rate increased unbidden. He sensed a presence within, and his whole body reached out to it. He'd thought he was whole before, but he knew now that the final piece he needed lay inside the cave. Without thinking any longer, he sprinted toward the mouth of the cave, clambering over boulders as quickly as he could.

As he entered the cave, his eyes slowly adjusted to the dark. He glanced back once and saw that a wall of dark fog now covered the entrance of the cave. He'd seen fog like that before, at his first meeting with Orpheus. He turned around, expecting to find the musician waiting for him.

Instead he found an obsidian throne, appearing as if it had been built from frozen chunks of the Styx. On the throne sat a boy of seventeen, naked and emaciated, his gaunt features regarding Caleb with sadistic curiosity. Ethan appeared much as he had at the Cocytus, blood flowing freely from his arms, the cuts so deep Caleb could see the bone beneath. The figure laughed, the taut skin around its skull breaking from the effort of the movement.

Caleb covered his mouth to suppress his gasp. He fell to his knees, unable to look away from the ghastly sight ahead of him. The figure rose up from its throne and walked toward him, skeletal fingers raised in accusation, "You've come for me, Caleb?" The figure asked. It stepped in front of him, then cupped his chin in its bony fingers. "You wished to save me? From this?"

The figure lifted Caleb to his feet with inhuman strength, wrapping its fingers tight around Caleb's throat. "Who do you think you are, Caleb? To think you could ever save a soul. You think you understand death, but you cower in its presence. I will consume you, and not even Lethe will want your remains."

Don't forget to comment and react to this chapter! Also, special thanks to my Patreon Supporters: Michael, Bill, Charles, Amr, Don, James, Joe, Jos, Mark, Mark, Paul, Steve, John, Frank, Sam, Matthieu, Ben, Jay, Scott, Chris, and Lachlan. Couldn't have done it without them. Email me at Samuel.D.Roe@gmail.com to be put on my mailing list!