The Ferryman

This is the seventh instalment in a series that reimagines events within Greek mythology. This piece follows The Witness, and we reenter the Underworld where Charon has been called by his lord Hades to visit his chambers.

Charon adjusted his hat to fit snugly over his withered ears and plucked an errant hair from his beard. It was unusual for him to leave his post by the Acheron, and yet he had been called upon by his master. The ferryman of the dead couldn’t complain. The atmosphere was morose as usual, and he welcomed any sort of change of scenery.

He was used to it all — the stench of acid and sulfur, the bubbling of the nearby springs and oozing mud flats. He had no feeling towards his grey existence anymore. He simply carried out his duties, ferrying the dead across the river to the Underworld. Sometimes they spoke to him. Mostly they were silent and resigned to their fate.

There was neither day nor nightfall in this realm. Everything was grey and dark, the world seemed to have a film of dirty gauze hanging over it down here. He often wondered what day and night would feel like. Would his eyes be able to adjust if he were to visit the surface world?

There was but one time when he made an attempt to breach his contract with Hades and venture to the surface. He shuddered as he walked, remembering his master’s wrath. He could still smell the rotten smell from Cerberus’ mouth as he looked down at the scar on his left arm.

I deserved that….he thought to himself as he waked towards his master’s throne hall. The steps leading up to the hallway were slippery, and he took care and time ascending to the top.

No reason to rush…the dead can wait.

As he reached the top step, he heard the familiar growl coming from Cerberus, and he stopped in his tracks. The three-headed dog was slobbering over a bone with two of its heads, the third one staring at him directly with fire in its eyes.

“Calm, Cerberus,” Hades spoke, appearing from around a column in the hallway. Cerberus sat down, relaxed, at bay. Caron walked forward towards Hades.

“What is it my lord, that you should call upon me to leave my post?”

“Thank you for joining me Charon. I won’t keep you for long. There is something I must show you. Come with me.”

The lord of the underworld led Charon down a hallway he had never been to before. Charon’s eyes lit up at the dazzling mosaic’s on the walls. There were scenes he had never viewed before, and the torches’ radiance lining the halls shined off the mosaics. They were scenes of the surface world — flowers and fields, greens and purples, animals grazing in the grass — sites that Charon couldn’t name, even colours he couldn’t recognise. He paused for a moment at a mosaic showing two water nymphs in a pool.

“Charon, please…this way.”

“Yes, my lord.”

As they rounded the corner, Hades led him into a room filled with more soft light and colours. Charon was dazzled by the fragrance in the bedchamber and almost didn’t notice the girl sitting in the corner. He was startled when he heard her gasp.

This woman was not dead!

“Charon, this is Persephone.”