Restless 'Til We Reach Home

Anywhere, I'd Follow You

Polites woke alone in the darkness. Or at least, he thought he was alone, until he felt a body shift next to him. The sky above was an inky black, completely devoid of stars. It didn't feel right.

He jolted upright, the ground underneath him rocking with his movement. No, it wasn't the ground, it was wood. He was on a small boat, and the bodies around him were his fellow soldiers. Most still remained unconscious.

"Odysseus!" he called out, but received no answer. "Eurylochus!" His voice echoed down the approaching canyon, bouncing back until it met his ears.

"Shhhh," a husky voice sounded from above. Polites startled and looked up, seeing a cloaked man standing at the back of the boat. His face was concealed by the hood pulled over its head, the only discernible feature being two bony hands peeking out from his sleeves. They clutched onto an oar, thrusting the boat further on its journey.

Polites crawled to the edge of the boat and leaned out, and he was greeted by perhaps the most beautiful sight. They were floating on a glowing river, the water a brilliant blue green. It was as he was staring into the ethereal water that he realized why the sky had no stars: they'd all fallen in the river.

The awestruck smile fell flat when he took a good look at his surroundings.

Everywhere he looked was gray and rocky and completely devoid of life. He heard people moaning in the distance and could see them trudging along in mindless huddles. Small fights broke out amongst them, and Polites could see fires burn in the distance.

He had to be dreaming, he was sure of it! He pinched his arm as hard as he could until he yelped from the pain. When he didn't wake up, he reached his hands into the water, splashing his face repeatedly.

"Wake up! Wake up! Wake up, wake up!" he yelled each time the cool water hit his skin. His vision blurred as the water dripped down his face and his eyes filled with tears. His shoulders shook as he sobbed, leaning over the edge of the boat. He could feel when they hit the shore, but he didn't budge, even as everyone else filed out.

The ripples around the boat began to calm, and soon enough the surface of the water was as smooth as glass. His eyes met his reflection and he jerked back, rocking the boat slightly. Hesitantly, he leaned back over the glowing water to get a closer look. Ripples sent minor shockwaves through his reflection, slowing until it showed a clear picture.

A choked gasp escaped his throat as he clamped a hand over his mouth. He looked up at the ferryman, who nodded solemnly. The tears he'd been holding back finally rolled down past his cheeks.

His head hung low as he cried, and he could feel each tear drip from his nose or chin. When he opened his eyes again, he saw tiny dots of red on his toga. Hesitantly, he reached up to wipe the tears from his face. When he pulled away, his hands were stained red.

He thrusted his hands in the water, scrubbing furiously to rid them of the blood. The stream before him turned a pale pink before the current carried it away.

Polites knew exactly where he was.

At first he tried to lay low, but he had always been outgoing and friendly, even to those who weren't so friendly back. But it quickly became clear that down here, no one wanted to talk to him. Or so it would seem.

Polites got into the habit of exploring the underworld every day. There was nothing to do but wander aimlessly or work, and Polites much preferred the former. It was while on one of these walks that he spotted a young woman kneeling by the riverbank. At first he thought nothing of it, but the closer he got, he could hear her quiet sobs and sniffles.

He approached cautiously, waving when he felt he was close enough to warrant a greeting. "Well hello there!" he said in a chipper voice, offering a shy grin. She looked up at the stranger before her, yelping and falling back onto her hands. He was quick to put her at ease.