Death Watchers

Traveling

A tinkling laugh sounded in my dreams. "Welcome, Jocelynn Turner. I have heard so much about you."

I blinked against the bright light and saw a blurry face. As my vision cleared, I saw a man as old as my father. He was dressed in traveling clothes, a walking stick in his hand and a flat hat on his head. He grinned, revealing rows of crooked teeth.

"Good morning." He offered me his hand and I accepted. "I am Hermes, if you did not know. I hear you are on a mission, young one. Care to walk?" He gestured to the forest surrounding us and took off, leaving me to follow.

I wiped the sleepers from my eyes and stumbled after him, my limbs feeling heavier than normal. "Where's Cole?"

He turned his head a bit. "The Prince? He travels freely. If he wishes to visit me, he can. Oh, one more thing." He turned to me and pinched my jaw, prying it open. He reached in and grabbed the coin from under my tongue. "Thank you," he smiled, nodding sagely before taking off again.

"I hear you wish to visit the Underworld," Hermes continued, walking at a fast pace ahead of me. I had to stay at a jog to keep up. "I am to take you to Charon. Or so I have heard. Although, I am curious as to why you want to go to the Underworld in the first place. I know why the Prince does, but I do not know your reason."

I shrugged. "I just wanted to help him."

"Brave of you, considering he has not been completely honest with you. However, I know there is more to it than that. You're curious as to what the Underworld looks like. I could tell you and save you the trip if you would like."

I smiled. "I think I want to see it with my own eyes, though I appreciate your offer."

"I understand perfectly, young one. I am quite old, you know," he chuckled. We continued on in silence until he said, "Although, you must help me understand one thing."

"And what is that?" I asked after I jumped over a tree root in the path.

"Well, I noticed how you have chosen to single yourself out and keep to the shadows. I am just wondering why that is when you should be at the head of society because no one else has gifts quite like yours. Instead, you've chosen to be lonely."

I had never thought about it that way. I never really felt lonely, hoping my decision to stay away from people would be a good enough reason not to. The only time I had actually felt lonely was after Cole had told me to leave him alone. And then now, when I wondered how anyone could love me after seeing my arms. People were into physical beauty nowadays and any deformity was frowned upon.

"Another thing," Hermes added, "why do you hide that which makes you beautiful?"

"Huh?"

He turned around and pointed to my arms. "No warrior should cover their scars, no matter how bad they appear to be. Scars are a symbol of strength, of not giving into ones weakness and just letting go. Your arms show you never gave up the fight for your life in that fire. Why do you hide them?"

"They're too new for my brain to call them beautiful yet," I reasoned. "So why would anyone else think they are?"

"I am sure your Prince would agree with me they are beautiful."

"Why do you keep calling Cole Prince?"

Hermes stopped and looked back at me, his weathered face scrunched. He opened his mouth but was interrupted.

"Hey, Joc!" Cole shouted, stepping out of the underbrush. "Caught up to you two finally. I've only been following you for a good half mile now." He grinned but he didn't look too happy.

I smiled in return. "Well, you should have called out sooner."

Hermes nodded slightly. "Indeed, nephew."

Cole returned his nod. "Uncle. You will take us to Charon, correct?"

"Of course. That is one of my many jobs. Jocelynn here wishes to visit the Underworld, as do you."

Cole nodded. "Very well. Carry on and we shall follow."

The three of us walked in silence. I was hoping Hermes would have told me why he called Cole a prince but I guess he was keeping his mouth shut. Why would a god fear an undead man?

A rock wall loomed before us after another twenty minutes of walking at Hermes' pace. The cliff face was tall, menacing with all the shadows on the dark stone. Hermes continued walking, unperturbed by the dark sense of evil wafting from the rocks. I spotted the cave just before Hermes vanished into its darkness. I grabbed the back of Cole's shirt so I wouldn't lose him, but I soon figured out it wasn't necessary.

Although appearing dark initially, the cave's walls were well lit with ancient torches every five feet. A brilliant blue flame rose from each one, illuminating the cave in an almost-white light. Water trickled beside us, slowly growing to the size of a river.

"Welcome to the river Acheron," Hermes said finally, gesturing to it. "There you have Charon, who will take you farther so long as you have the payment." He turned to Cole. "I shall need your payment, Prince."

He handed over a coin and Hermes took his leave, bowing slightly. Cole turned to Charon and gestured me forward. What I thought would be a ferry was actually what appeared to be an Italian river boat. Charon—a thin man draped in equally thin gray robes—stood at one end, holding a long pole, and the other end of the boat was a plush red cushion.

"Two of us to the Underworld, my good man," Cole said, handing him two gold coins.

Charon nodded and we climbed in. The second we sat down, he shoved the pole into the water and pushed us off. The river was calm, but there were some spots that were bumpy. When I asked Cole why that was, he just shook his head and said I didn't want to know. I tried to ask Charon but it seemed he was mute. Either that or he chose not to talk. Why talk to the dead?

I found myself connecting with the guy. Both of us dealt with dead people, but none of us seemed to like it. Charon got to watch tens of thousands of people pass over but he never could. I watched people pass over, but at least I knew I would someday, too. I wondered how much that sucked, being immortal.

A light appeared and the vessel slowed. We emerged out of the cave to a brilliant splash of what I would have called sunlight had I not known where we were. Cole looked around, admiring the field before us. As I thought, it wasn't a complete wasteland. There was grass...it was just dead and brown. The trees, too, appeared dead, void of leaves, their bark white.

The vessel stopped on the bank of the river and Charon watched us exit before returning to the dark cave. He paddled slowly backwards, having turned himself around rather than the boat.

I glanced at Cole. "Now what?"

A loud bark was the answer I received, followed by a low growl and thundering. The ground shook and my blood ran cold. I had thought the beast before me was nothing but a myth, a figment of a madman's imagination. But what was racing toward us was in no way imaginable.

A ten foot tall, three headed dog could in no way be a figment of anyone's imagination.