Page 42 of Orpheus
Pure green grass was on the ground. I was stunned how life could sustain itself down here, below the deepest depths of the Earth, but it did. As we stepped across the grass, I could make out a dark jet river at its edge. The rivers I was used to were always ebbing and flowing. Some were marine blue, while others had a green or brown murkiness to them. But this one was beyond anything I had ever seen before. Its water moved as if in slow-motion. I’d never seen any liquid flow so slowly in all my life in such a viscous manner. The river itself looked like a pool of melted metal, as if millions of iron and steel weapons had been burned by Hephaestus and poured into this body of water.
Before I could approach the river any further to closely examine it, I stopped and turned back around, realizing Apollo was no longer by my side. He was a few yards behind me, standing still.
“This is as far as I go,” he informed me.
“Why? Can you not join me even just a little further?”
He shook his head. “No. I will not cross the River of Styx. You must do that alone.”
“Very well. Then this is where we part ways.” I would feel more confident having a god like Apollo at my side as I navigated my way through the Underworld in search of Eurydalos, but even if I had to go alone, I would never falter. I was more determined than ever to get my Eurydalos back into my arms.
“Are you certain he is worth it, Orpheus?” Apollo questioned my motives once more. “It is not too late to turn back. There is no guarantee that you will make it out of the Underworld. Are you willing to risk the rest of your life for this one mortal?”
I should be offended by Apollo’s final attempt at swaying me in a different direction. But thoughts of Eurydalos and what we had continued to permeate my mind, to the point where I was able to ignore Apollo’s remark and simply smile, remembering how full I felt when Eurydalos was in my life.
“Yes. I do not care even if the odds are stacked against me. If there is even a morsel of a chance where I can bring Eurydalos home to me, then I am willing to take it,” I affirmed.
I was stunned to witness Apollo smile as I said this. I was reminded of how glorious and captivating of a god he was with that radiance of his. It made me realize why I was so physically drawn to him. But there was a little more to that than I cared to acknowledge until now. Yes, Apollo had his moments where he was egotistical, mighty, and sanctimonious as most other Olympian gods were, but he also showed compassion, kindness, and dare I sayempathy? At least the glimmer on his face suggested that to me, when I revealed I would do anything to recover the love of my life.
Despite the animosity I’ve recently held over Apollo, especially after being the reason Eurydalos was now dead, I had to admire him. In drawing comparison among him and other gods, Apollo was far more pleasant, considerate, and nowunselfish. I had never heard of a god ever being unselfish from the stories and tales I’ve been told of over the years. But Apollo believing in me being able to come out of the Underworld intact and him taking the time to guide me here spoke volumes to his character as a god.
“Then I wish you nothing but luck. But I suspect that you will not need luck with your artistic skill sets. Lean on them as you journey through the Underworld, Orpheus. Use the golden lyre I gave you to soothe even the most savage of creatures with your music. I know you have it in you.”
Apollo’s words sank into me. It gave me the further tenacity to go on this adventure in the Underworld all on my own. It was just what I needed to banish the remainder of the worry that was harbored in the inner depths of my soul.
“Thank you. And I do have one thing to get off my chest before I press on,” I informed him. “I understand why you did what you did, Apollo. If you had not taken matters into your own hands, Eurydalos and I would now both be dead and likely aimlessly wandering through the Underworld never to find each other again. But because of your actions, I am now alive, and now have this moment to be able to attempt to save Eurydalos. I will seize this opportunity and try to make the most of it. I cannot allow of our efforts to be in vain.”
“I did it all for you, Orpheus. I may not understand why you love Eurydalos the way you do, over me, but I can appreciate the love that you do have for him. I hate to see you depressed, as I have for the past several weeks. So, if there is anything I can do to help bring you out of that state, I will do it, even if it means assisting you in the return of your lover.” Apollo then walked off, leaving me standing alone in this very last plain of the living that connected to the land of the dead.
I spun around and walked forward towards the edge of the acreage, overlooking the River of Styx. I stood, waiting for the ferryman that Apollo spoke of. The one that was my only means of gaining access to the Underworld.
In the mist that fogged the river from the horizon, I watched as a wooden rickety boat came forth from it, slowly gliding down Styx with the sluggish water that moved it. And at the stern of the boat, holding a long oar to steer it, was a decrepit creature. He was a sullen man with gray skin and a long, thick beard. His grisly features added to his ugly and scary appearance. His eyes were as black as charcoal, depicting death itself. This was Charon, the ferryman of the Underworld, just as Apollo had mentioned.
His boat approached the edge of the river by my side. He glanced over at me menacingly before holding his hand out. “Payment is needed to cross,” Charon simply stated to me.
I patted down my tunics, hoping perhaps that Apollo may have snuck some sort of item or amulet within the pockets of my clothing that I could give to Charon, just as he requested. But my pockets were empty. I found nothing. I could do nothing but shrug at the ferryman. “I have nothing to offer you. But please, I must cross this river to the Underworld,” I pleaded.
But Charon was not so accepting of my lack of coin needed to gain access. “If you do not have the proper payment, I cannot allow you to cross. Do not waste my time, mortal. Clearly, you belong with the living.”
The ferryman placed his oar back into the metallic water and began to row off, away from me. I kneeled to my knees, fearing that I had ruined everything. This was my only chance to cross the river of Styx to enter the Underworld and I had shattered it.
I did not have the payment Charon had requested. I had nothing to give, except for my lyre. Mysong. This was all I had to show the battered riverkeeper, and it was what I drew out of my tunic and to play with great desperation. I closed my eyes and sang a tune to him.
An Earth dancer there once was who spun and twirled
But his life ended early, bound for the Underworld.
He is a beautiful man. The love of my life.
Taken away from me cruelly, all because of one god’s strife.
I can’t live, can’t breathe, can’t sleep knowing he is no longer here.
The pain is like no other, having the love of your life disappear.
I swear to travel to the ends of the Earth if I could get him back.
Even if I have to venture through darkness itself, the air stained black.
