I walked through the mist, where souls were trapped in an endless cycle.
For hours, I had been moving forward, seeing no end to the path ahead. It seemed the road would stretch on forever, even with the lamp I held in my hand.
But I knew one thing: my time was short. Before my body began to rot while there was still a place to return to.
With every step, the lamp's light dimmed. Why did he give it to me without resistance? Was it not because the true owner was Charon, and I was merely a wanderer, acting on the will of the lamp's master?
My plans had crumbled into dust once again. I stood once more at the river Styx. Nearby, a boat waited and in it, sat Charon. He did not move, only stared at me in silence.
I looked down at the lamp. Was I just a bearer? It did not obey my will, but another's. Something flared within me. I would not be controlled.
My right hand previously formless took shape. A faint golden glow surrounded it. I gripped the lamp, focusing all my will.
"What are you doing?" Charon's voice was calm, yet there was caution beneath it.
I gave no answer. The lamp's light shifted from cold blue to brilliant yellow. It flickered, as if pulsing in rhythm with my thoughts. And across the veil, I felt it: a gust of wind, the sway of the world, and footsteps.
"How dare you ignore me, mortal?" Charon rose from the boat, fury in his voice as he stepped toward me.
"This is my will. I still have much left unfinished," I said.
The lamp flared brighter. Air filled my lungs, awakening a heart that had long stood still. A soft, steady heartbeat. The warm, familiar scent of a forest brushed my senses.
"You will return to me and you will beg," Charon whispered with a rasp full of contempt.
"If I return, it will be because I choose to," I replied, and the lamp's light blazed blinding, all-consuming.
Everything vanished in a flash.
******************
The lamp fell onto a sandy shore. It still glowed with a soft yellow hue, but soon faded back to its usual cold, blue light.
Charon approached and picked it up from the ground.
"I have all the time in the world. One day, you will be mine," he murmured, walking back to his boat. He took his place, grabbed the oars, and pushed off from the shore.
Setting the lamp aside, he drew a coin and tossed it into the air. It landed in his palm, bearing the image of the Tree.
"But even she won't be able to protect you forever," he whispered.
*Caw*
A raven croaked in agreement, then soared into the air, wings outstretched.
******************
"Kh—kh…" I coughed hoarsely, barely managing to open my eyes.
"Aaaaah!" shrieked the women in white robes, dropping their buckets and rags in terror before fleeing the room in panic.
I looked around. The chamber was carved from white stone its walls smooth and cold. I lay upon a stone table, just the length of a man. My body was bare, cleaned, prepared for burial. It seemed I'd awakened just in time before they laid me in the ground.
I slowly raised my right arm. It barely responded. From shoulder to wrist, it was marked by crude stitches, pulled tight with black thread. I tried to make a fist my fingers trembled, alien and weak but with effort, I forced them to close… and then release.
Moments later, several Spartan warriors burst into the room with spears. Among them was Heron. Seeing me upright, he froze for an instant before stepping forward.
"Damocles?" he asked, keeping his spear at the ready.
"It's me," I answered.
I still couldn't fully believe I had returned. The void hadn't released me completely I felt it inside, like a cold shadow clinging to my heart. I needed time… to feel whole again.
"Everyone out," Heron ordered firmly.
The guards nodded in silence and left the hall. He remained alone with me.
"You came back? But how?" There was unease in Heron's voice. "Your heart wasn't beating. I was certain you were truly dead."
"I still have much to do before I vanish," I replied, lowering my legs from the table and planting my feet on the cold stone floor.
My body didn't obey me properly there was weakness in every movement.
"This is impossible. I've never seen anyone return with their mind intact," Heron whispered, moving to support me.
My legs trembled, offering no steady support.
"Then… you were really in the underworld?" he asked.
"Yes," I nodded. "I met Charon. I took his lamp and found my way back."
Heron froze.
"No one else can know. Tell them you never saw the underworld. Say the gods rewarded your deeds and healed you. Do you understand?"
"I understand," I said, gazing toward the doorway. "I want to feel the sun's warmth."
There, in the darkness, I had learned: to live is the greatest gift.
Heron helped me outside. A ray of sunlight gently brushed my skin. Warmth slowly spread through my body, awakening it from cold oblivion. I knew I was home. In Sparta.
"How did you get out of those woods?" I asked, listening to the sounds around me, trying to keep my balance.
"Yes. The centaurs no longer dare attack us," Heron replied. "When word spread that you had slain Skalias, the Council sent warriors to retrieve his body so your glory could be brought home and etched into eternity. You've become a hero, Damocles."
"It's good we made it out," I said quietly.
"Are you alright? The healers only stitched your wounds shut but what was broken inside remains broken," Heron said, eyeing me intently.
"I don't know. I think so… I feel mostly fine," I replied, though I still struggled to fully feel my body.
"You should lie down. I'll call them in let them examine you. And remember the story," he added, then gently guided me back to the stone table before I could respond.
He left quickly, and I remained alone. I closed my eyes. Perhaps I really had earned rest. I should ask the elders for leave… though I don't think I've ever heard of such a thing before.
A few minutes later, several people entered. Among them was Heron, a man in light robes clearly a healer and an elder with silver hair, wearing the emblem of the council on his chest: a laurel wreath.
"A true miracle," the elder said, examining me from head to toe. "Check him, Evrytus. Damocles, when I held you in my arms as a newborn, I could never have imagined what you'd accomplish. But even then, I saw strength in your eyes. Still, this… this astonishes me. I'm glad I wasn't wrong."
"This is Elder Timarchus," Heron introduced him. "He decides the fate of newborns. He was the one who stood against executing those deemed 'unfit.'"
The healer, Evrytus, stepped closer and began to examine me carefully. But what could he see on the surface? The true damage lay within and that was hidden from his eyes.
"Thank you for the introduction, Heron," said Timarchus. "I've heard how you returned, but I want to hear the story from your own lips."
With some effort, I lifted myself onto my elbows.
"It was like a fog," I began. "But I heard a voice. The gods saw my deeds and granted me a return."
Timarchus narrowed his eyes. His face remained calm, but his gaze was piercing.
"Hmph. You lie. That much is certain," he said not accusingly, but as a statement of fact.
"Elder…" Heron started, but Timarchus silenced him with a small gesture.
"I am no boy, easily fooled by tales. But what matters is that you live. And I believe you would never betray Sparta. This is your home, whatever it may be. Let the people believe your story."
He stroked his beard thoughtfully and gave me a long, searching look.
"Elder, he's healing well," said Evrytus, stepping back from the table. "His ribs and chest were shattered, and his body was full of fractures but now all is whole. The wounds are still there, but they're closing."
"I've seen all I needed," Timarchus said, turning to me. "Damocles, we will give you all the time you need to recover. And when you're ready, we'll hold a feast in your honor."
He nodded to the healer, and the two of them left, leaving only Heron and me.
"Come, Damocles. Let me take you home," Heron said.
With his help, I slowly walked through the city streets. Each step was a struggle, and I felt the stares of dozens of people. Some looked at me with awe. Others with doubt.
"I was afraid to see my reflection I need a mirror to see if I can go on the red carpet." With a smile, I thought.
Heron led me to an empty house. He brought food, and I ate every crumb in silence.
My body needed rest. Real rest. And for the first time… maybe even a long one.
Author's Note
If anyone is waiting for a trip through the underworld, it's coming, just not now.
By the way, do you need a discord channel? Or is it more convenient for you to post your thoughts on the webnovel?