Tales From The Story: Morpheus

Chapter 2: Lord of the Underworld

Morpheus had never liked the Underworld. It was dark, creepy, there were strange sounds, and every single body of water did something terrible to a person. In other words, it was paradise for Hades, and horrifying for everyone else. Even Elysium, which was supposed to be paradise, seemed like a place for people to be convinced they were happy. Morpheus despised every corner of the Underworld.

Unfortunately, he was called there often. Most of the time, it was to address a complaint that Hades was lodging against him. He was fairly certain that this time would be no different, yet it was rare that Hades would send a messenger to see him. That made him a little nervous.

Hermes walked beside him silently as they approached the River Styx. The rickety little boat had a single occupant, and Morpheus produced his gold coin. This was getting to be expensive. At some point, if Hades insisted on continuing with his ridiculous complaints, Morpheus was going to make him start paying. "Hello, Charon," Morpheus said, handing over the coin before climbing into the boat.

The skeleton's voice, echoing around them, had an unmistakable ring of humor to it. "Morpheus, god of dreams and sleep, this is getting to be a bad habit."

"Tell me about it," he agreed. Hermes got in behind him, rocking the boat nauseatingly. Morpheus tried to ignore what would happen if Hermes tipped the boat over. "Try not to send us in the river, alright?"

"I'm not!" Hermes said irritably. "Relax, alright? You're stiff as a board, and that's making the boat tip!"

Morpheus had never been comfortable around the River Styx. The thought that a single drip could trap him in the river for all eternity was not a pleasant one. As if awakened by his nerves, a trapped soul pushed at the river, trying to reach him and moaning piteously. Morpheus drew back, his eyes wide. "By Zeus!" he exclaimed. "The sooner we're out of this place, the better."

"I'll concur with that," Hermes agreed. He was turning a delicate shade of green, Morpheus noticed.

Since Morpheus had nothing more to say—and he could feel his stomach churning as the boat pulled away from the dock and Charon disappeared—he fell silent. Hermes drew his knees to his chest, eyeing the water carefully. His umber eyes were narrowed. "Hades can't sink the boat while we're in it, can he?" he asked.

"Probably not," Morpheus answered flippantly, hoping to convince Hermes to stop talking.

It worked. The god of travelers stopped talking and went back to staring at the water. Morpheus felt a little guilty when he saw his friend jump every time the boat creaked and groaned. It was, after all, his rather unsympathetic response that had made him so anxious.

The boat glided over the water, the uncanny silence of the Underworld becoming oppressive. The boat ride gave Morpheus far too much time to ponder what horrible things Hades had planned for him. Hermes raked his fingers through his hair and opened his mouth to speak.

It was at that moment that the boat rammed into the shore. Morpheus, glancing at the river, saw the lack of trapped spirits in it. "Wonderful," he groaned. "We've made our way to the River Lethe. Why do I get the feeling that's not an accident?" The last thing he wanted was to be dunked into the river and lose all his memories.

Lightly, Morpheus jumped from the boat onto the shore. Hermes, a little less gracefully, stumbled from the boat. Morpheus hauled him to the relative safety of the shore before turning, drawing his sword. One of Hades's Furies—an old hag of a woman with leathery bat wings—stood behind him. She hissed when his sword came close to her face. "What do you want, woman?" Morpheus demanded.