The nightingale

Chapter 5. The Beginning is Half of Everything

"First of all, you need new clothes and some time to clean yourself up. I'll bring a few options from my youth. Just stay here," the guard said, looking Alice up and down.

"I can't help but wonder where you got them... But perhaps it's better not to open that Pandora's box," she replied with a sigh, but Achilles had already disappeared into the bustling crowd.

Twilight in Erebus once again painted the sky a light pink, as if someone had gently wiped away the bloodstains. The lights on the pier softly illuminated the line of ships, their dark sails fluttering in the wind. A light breeze carried the salty smell of the water and the faint scent of jasmine growing nearby. The only flower was unafraid of the desert dunes and strong wind. A gift to Poseidon, who likely cared little for the rivers of the underworld.

Fragments of conversations, laughter, and the sound of footsteps on the wooden planks echoed everywhere. And this was more useful than ever, for Alice did not want to be alone. She had not felt pain in a long time, pain not caused by open wounds or ragged cuts. And that was truly... terrifying. 

"Here," Achilles said, handing her an outfit. "I think it will fit." 

It was a black dress that flowed in his hands like a living darkness. The dense fabric on the collar and cuffs concealed the bird skull mark despite being almost transparent. Intricate unknown patterns covered the material, resembling magical symbols Alice couldn't decipher. The corset skillfully hugged her waist, and the skirt transitioned smoothly from clinging to her hips to a freely falling train, enveloping her silhouette in a light mist of fog. 

Alice's fingers lingered for a moment on the thin, cool fabric, and for the first time, she hesitantly raised her eyes to the guard. 

"Thank you... But I don't think I can accept it." 

"The one who owned this dress has been dead for a long time. I doubt the owner cares anymore. When you die in Hell, it's usually forever," he said, squinting his eyes. "I'm not a philanthropist, Alice. I don't want any more problems, which you're full of. Remember that for next time when you feel like trusting someone in the Underworld." 

Achilles didn't bother to choose his words to avoid breaking her already fragile heart. And she thought that for this alone, he deserved some respect.

 "Now go, clean yourself up, and don't bother the creatures without reason."

***

Alice carefully stepped aboard. The deck swayed beneath her feet, and the wind had picked up. One of the waves suddenly tilted the ship, disturbing its fragile peace. Panic rose in Alice's throat, and she instinctively tried to grab the boat's edge. When her fingers slipped on the wet wood, she was surprised to find a broad hand reaching out to her. 

Strong and sinewy, with clearly defined muscles, the hand was adorned with several gold bracelets glinting in the setting sun.

"It would be a shame to see such beauty in the water," the man said mockingly as Alice steadied herself.

"Don't worry, I can take care of myself."

"I do not doubt your skills, but I was talking about the dress."

She remembered his cat-like smile, something on the edge of obsession mixed with a ton of charm. And also his wonderful talent for saying things that could make any composure snap and fly away in a minute. Along with him. 

A dark chest and broad shoulders peeked out from under a white shirt that looked more like a piece of fabric casually thrown over his body. His long black hair was slightly disheveled as if intentionally emphasizing his wild nature. The man's face seemed stern due to its sharp, straight lines, but his piercing brown eyes revealed a personality more likely to make you drink poison than act directly. A cunning fox masquerading in a bear's skin.