Living on Borealis-9: The Story Of A Reincarnated Human

Chapter 1, Part 2: Death

Dying isn't so bad, in all honesty. Most people say they see 'a light at the end of a tunnel'.

Me? I saw a river. I awoke to find myself standing on the banks of a black-sand river, surrounded by mist. It was a little creepy, but...Alright. I can understand it. Yes, this was simply the hallucination of my brain shutting down as I died. The last burst of neurons...was pretty boring, actually. Of all things, my brain decides to fire off visions of a 'Silent Hill'-esque scene? The last flashes of life is just a boring river? I decided to look down at it, just to at least enjoy the sigh. Big mistake. 

The river was...Well, it was rather wide and inhospitable-looking. Deep, dark, churning with an almost stygian feeling. It felt like the river was ancient, almost uncrossable for those without a boat or similar. It felt cold just looking at it, like I was looking into the eyes of death itself. I never feared death in life, but...I sure did fear the river. And for one reason: thalassophobia. I hated how deep the river seemed.

To give you an idea, the river wasn't just deep. It was DEEP, like an underwater canyon. It was as if the Mariana Trench was the last place on earth to have water. Somehow, both relaxing and stressful to look at. Was the river the border between life and death, like how The Ancient Greeks saw it? It was not what I expected. But, so far, it wasn't too weird. I knew Ancient Greek myths. Sure, I did not have any coins on me to pay off Charon to take me, but it seemed like I was just in...Tartarus, that's the name.

And speak of the devil! The boatman! Up on the bank of the river, there sat a person clad in a cloak. Their hands and face were completely invisible under the cloak, though they seemed to be passing the time by reading a book inside of a boat. Honestly, they were very nondescript. It was the boat that caught my attention.

For the boat was pure white, and gritty-looking. Imagine a load of wood shavings, like if you have been whittling a block of pure white wood. Take the shavings, and try to make a board with them in your mind. That is what the boat seemed to be made of. Loose-fitting wood shavings. And yet, the bow and stern were decorated with ornate clusters of skulls with glowing eyes. The middle part of the boat, which cut like it was assembled from two halves, was lined in some kind of metal, black as the river. On the edges, where the oars sat, there was gold piled up and shining bright.

The oars themselves were rather interesting too. I could not see them well, as they were partially submerged in the river, but I could have sworn I saw faces on them. The handles were seemingly carved from bone, like the colossal ribs of a whale or similar. On the sides, they had runes of all kinds carved in, though none I recognized. It was like nothing I had seen before, how the runes were laid out.

One may know of Old Japanese, how it is written vertically instead of horizontally. One may know of Hindi, which is written on a line. One may even know of Arabic, and how it is written so you must have a mirror to read it. These runes were laid out so that they were all drawn on a line, which criss-crossed back and forth. The symbols seemingly made no sense, as they overlapped and repeated. I could only identify twelve, which made me wonder if there were only twelve letters in whatever runic alphabet was written on the oars.

As I looked at the oars, I felt the hairs on my neck stand up. The owner of the boat was looking up at me.

"Oh, great. My brother brings another to me." The owner said. "How fare you, Son Of Spirits?"

"Huh?" I asked. Son of spirits? I don't see ghosts!

"Yes, you are certainly a son of his. No matter. Anubis will surely judge you fairly, in spite of our relations." The owner said, clapping their book shut.

"Hold on, what? 'A son of his'? Who? Anubis? I thought this was the Greek Afterlife, not Egyptian." I protested. I could feel my blood boiling a little bit by not knowing what was going on. Not that I'm fragile mentally, and my perception was about to be shattered! I'm not that weak. I just want to know what was going on, and what to expect. 

Wait...This must be Charon! The person before me was probably Charon, Ferryman of the dead. I knew about him from 'Dante's Inferno', as well as some Greek Myths. River? Check. Charon? Check. I figured I was in the Greek Afterlife, but Anubis's name threw me off. Charon of Greek Myth was going to take me to Anubis, of Egyptian Myth. At this rate, I'd be sent to Valhalla, meet Moses himself, then go have breakfast on the World Tortoise while meeting some Mami Wata.

As if he could read my thoughts, Charon shook his hooded head.

"No, Son Of Spirits. You're not going to meet any of them. This is not your imagined afterline, I'm sure. And please, do not call me Charon. I am simply The Ferryman."

"Can you read my mind?" I asked.

"Can you read mine? Because if you could, you would understand it says 'GET IN THE BOAT'."