Chapter Two: {SAFFRON}

4.5K 288 40
                                    

Horkos is available for pre-order on Amazon, and it will be published on January 20, 2023.

--

There is nothing in this world as cold as death.

My body is engulfed in the frigid water, its icy tendrils gripping my pale flesh and threatening to tear apart everything that makes me alive. Glasswing looks at me, enormous eyes open and frightened in the dark depths, and I feel guilty for one second. I can only spare a single second of guilt for killing my friend, but there is no time to dwell on the life I mercifully took any longer than that.

I only have time to stare at my friend, who died long before I pushed her into the River Styx with me, as she fears the unknown waters. The dead wrap their tendons around her body and pull her away from me. I stare at where they take her, and at first there is an outstretched hand mutely begging for help, but then there is nothingness.

Just a vast river of death.

Angrily, I wave my arms in the river's deep current. I try to break through the surface, as my feet kick and riot against the looming fact that I've held my breath for too long. Glasswing is gone, but I'm still alive. I fight, yet fear I'll suffer the same fate as her.

There is a heaviness against my chest, which worsens the deeper I descend into the unforgiving depths of the River Styx. Before my breathing becomes dysregulated, I know my attempt to save Hattie's life is going to end in the absence of my own. I am dying, and the dead that swim in the rivulets flock to me with the same realization.

Moaning, long deceased souls reach for where I try to swim but continue to drown. Their elongated nails scratch my flesh, desperate for a taste of the living world for as long as I am a part of it. They break through the surface of my skin and cause my crimson and gold blood to spill and enlighten the blackened river with color. The dead do not react to the abnormality of my blood, for they do not care if I am human, demi-god, or immortal; they're hungry for the piquancy of a beating heart.

Three of them grab my arms, another four hold on to my legs, and my fight grows more futile by the haggard seconds. I pull one arm free from their greedy embrace, but two more latch onto one of my ankles and drag me deeper and deeper into the abyss of death. I will die if I do not fill the air in my lungs within the next few seconds.

Still, they plunge me towards the bottom of the river.

I wrench an arm free, and I feel my elbow break a skeletal bone as I rear it back and hear a sickening crunch interwoven with the roaring waters. The one undead creature lessens its hold on me, but my cessation feels inevitable. Without a reprieve, I fight. If it weren't for Hattie, I would close my eyes and accept the abhorrent hand the Fates gave me and let the darkness take over my abysmal world.

But she's in the mansion, alone and defenseless against an abundance of titans and monsters who charge towards her. My best friend, who has survived when I've lost so much, needs me to break through the river and survive. Glasswing's promise that Kronos will kill everybody I love repeats itself in my head as my body pounds with agony.

Suddenly, the undead stop dragging me to the artic ground of the river. Their clawed and mutilated hands are quick to remove themselves from my body, as if I burn the bones. They push themselves away, distancing themselves as far from me as possible. I can only watch, with the prickle of death against my spine, as they flee in fright.

They do not fear me, I realize, but the black-haired woman who floats in the water a few feet away.

If the corpses could scream, they would've upon their captor's presence. She glides towards me until we are face-to-face, and there isn't a single undead wanderer nearby. It is just her and me, and I want to escape her too. The mere power of this woman is visible, like the colors surrounding her thin body or a smell which wards off potential adversaries. She is otherworldly frightening with a face both youthful and ancient, but I stay still as she places both of her pale, icy hands on either side of my face.

HorkosWhere stories live. Discover now