Chapter Text
Something was wrong with the Styx. It was only a small change; a sharp-eyed few would even notice it. But Charon was intimately familiar with the river he traversed endlessly for the past... however long. Millennia, it had felt like, though time meant very little to him save for keeping track of the shades on the riverbanks who were unable to pay their tolls.
The Styx, for the entire length of whatever amount of time Charon had been working it, always stayed the same level at the riverbanks. Now, it was two fingers low. Two fingers wasn't much, true, but it was lower than Charon had ever seen it.
Perhaps it was nothing. Certainly his concerns would be brushed off by Hades and Mother Nyx. Two fingers could be simply from some mortal tampering, as the Styx existed in both mortal and immortal realms. That was a problem easily taken care of.
Unfortunately, that also meant someone would have to examine where the block was coming from. Charon was simply too busy ferrying the dead from their usual dock, where Thanatos and Hermes brought shades for easy access.
Charon thought he could possibly persuade Hermes to check along the far reaches of the river for any obstructions, but that came with its own hurdles. Namely, that Charon couldn't speak, let alone do more than slip a groan in between his associate's ceaseless chattering. If it weren't for the fact that Hermes ended his one-sided conversations just as quickly as he started them — then flitted off to tend to his other duties for a good while before returning — Charon might feel like he would go mad from having to listen to it.
But Hermes was a messenger god. That meant Charon could likely do something as simple as writing a letter addressed to Hermes himself, requesting a quick flyover for mortal obstructions. Surely such a request from the fastest among the gods would be trivial, especially if Charon wrote of his concern for his own duties in it. For all Hermes annoyed him, he was quite respectful of Charon's authority, position, and knowledge of the way things worked.
As Charon pieced together his plan, his concerns only grew. Soon his oar began scraping the bottom of the river. It happened occasionally, where the ever-twisting waters already grew thin to fit through Hades' aggravatingly clever shifting labyrinths. This occurred once, maybe twice a trip at the extreme. Then he felt the scrape three times. A fourth. A fifth on the same go. Charon scribbled out his letter on the return trip, so he could hand it to Hermes immediately.
The messenger seemed amused at first. He didn't get many personal letters, he said. Charon grunted at his sunny bemusement. It was not a casual letter, and Hermes recognized that as he flipped it open and read over the contents. Thankfully, he did drop the theatrical chittering, if only for a brief moment, and Charon was grateful for that.
"This is quite serious, isn't it? And only getting worse?" Hermes asked aloud for confirmation of what he was reading.
Charon gave an affirming grunt and nodded his head when Hermes looked at him. The messenger folded up the letter and tucked it into his satchel. Then he beamed at Charon once more, his grin full of pristine white teeth — a perfect Olympian.
"Not to worry, dear associate! One quick sweep should reveal the trouble. It's probably nothing. Some mortals gumming up the works. Or perhaps one of those tiny bears with the long teeth!" Hermes spoke excitedly despite Charon's own unamused, worry-lined expression. "Should have it cleared up by next we meet."
Charon feared it would not be quite so easy. To his dismay, he was right. The next time he saw Hermes, the psychopomp seemed much more subdued. Almost serious, if Charon believed that Hermes was even capable of being serious.
"Hey boss, bad news. I followed the Styx as far upstream as I could manage in a day's flight — and you know, that's an awful long way — but the funny thing is, I couldn't find anything! And you're right, it's getting about a hand's-breadth low along most of the riverbank. Maybe you should take it up with the big bossman downstairs? Seems like a pretty serious problem."
"Hhhrrgh." At least someone was agreeing with Charon that it was a worrying issue, and had from the start. Now that he knew there was no mortal blockage within Hermes' flight range, Charon felt more justified in going to Hades and Nyx.
If only that went as smoothly as talking to Hermes.
"The Phlegethon is flooding into Asphodel, and you're worried about the Styx being a bit low?" Hades' voice boomed against Charon's senses. Nyx stood beside the God of the Dead and inclined her head slightly, acting as much as a translator for Charon's speechless groaning as she was a mediator as well.
"Your concerns have merit, my child, but the Underworld does have larger issues to attend to at the moment. That Hermes could not find a mortal source to the problem does not mean there isn't one. Mortals will pass, and the monuments they build will fall in time. This is only a temporary setback."
Charon's voice rattled in annoyance, and he turned his back to Hades and even his own mother. They heard his concerns, but they did not listen. The Phlegethon was an issue, yes, but that only affected the Underworld. If the Styx ran dry, then mortal souls would wander the empty banks and riddle Greece with ghosts. No, this was an issue affecting mortals, Olympus, and the Underworld alike.
Yet the only one who listened to Charon was an annoying chatterbox of an Olympian. That alone should probably have been reason enough for Charon to give the psychopomp a bit more credit… Perhaps Hermes might have better luck convincing his kin on their lofty mountaintop of the severity of the Styx's condition.
***
Poseidon would have been the obvious choice for Hermes to discuss any aquatic matters. In fact, his uncle was the first Olympian he sought, only to find himself politely shoved off. The sea-god was unconcerned with the goings on in the Underworld. Rivers were rivers. They ebb and flow. Why should the Styx be any different?
Frustrated, Hermes' next plan involved going under Poseidon's nose a bit, to his far more approachable son Triton. Conveniently enough, Hermes had work that took him to the waters surrounding Euboea, where the godly prince liked to swim about. Finding the time between jobs, Hermes settled himself upon a rocky outcrop in the bay to wait for his friend. Then, because he was impatient, he dug a conch shell from his messenger bag and played it loudly across the swirling Aegean Sea.
Bursting from the waters before him came the figure of a merman with cerulean skin, long green hair, and joyously glinting green eyes. His upper humanoid half was built strongly, with two muscular arms lined with fins, which he promptly wrapped tight around Hermes' waist as he laughed gleefully.
"Hermes! How I've missed you, my friend!" Triton exclaimed.
"Don't pull me in, you daft trout!" Hermes shouted back, though he couldn't help but laugh even as his limbs and wings struggled to escape Triton's grasp before he completely slipped into the sea.
"Oh right, sorry, sorry!" Triton carefully righted Hermes on the outcrop, then pulled himself up to lounge next to his feet, the blue-and-green scales of his tail practically sparkling in the mediterranean sunlight. "I was not expecting any messages today, nor do I have any to trade. A social visit just for me?"
Hermes chuckled at Triton's bemused, youthful grin. He most certainly got his softer, pretty features from his mother, but his warm playful nature was all Poseidon. Amphitrite was not a cruel parent, but she was distant and at times tempestuous, just like the seas she helped rule over. Triton was fond of his job as messenger of the seas, and his mischievous side had made him an easy companion with Hermes.
"'Fraid not this time, old friend." Hermes sat himself down next to Triton, hoping the sunlight would also help to dry out his chiton, being soaked from the mer-god's enthusiastic greeting. "I've a concern actually, involving the Styx."
Triton had no reason to take Hermes' worry seriously. He could have brushed aside the very idea that something could be wrong with the river much like his father had. But Triton simply sat back and nodded for Hermes to continue, patiently waiting to listen. Hermes felt a warm fondness and relief to be taken seriously. In thanks, he turned and took his fingers to Triton's hair. Carefully, he untangled bits of seaweed, twigs, shells, and other detritus from those brilliant green locks — an activity he often engaged in the few times they could have a social visit.
"Seems it's getting quite low, and that's concerning to the ferryman Charon." Hermes explained while he worked. "I've seen it myself, and I have to say I agree with his assessment. It's rather alarming, particularly because I flew a good section of the overworld part of it and I can't find any clue as to why the water is lowering. Of course, I took my concerns to your old man, but he blew it off."
"The natural order of things?" Triton asked with an amused scoff.
"You would think his type would know nature is hardly ever orderly in the first place." Hermes teased back. "Still, I thought you could shed better wisdom on this. After all, you're in more direct contact with the merfolk and nymphs. You know, all those who might've seen or heard something about what's wrong with it. Even something as benign as mortals messing about with their silly bridges or dams again?"
"I haven't heard anything about the Styx recently." Triton leaned back a little as he thought out loud. "But my friends do not take it as a regular route. Perhaps I could send a message of my own to those who travel more broadly. I've heard the river branches out far, far to the north."
"I'd appreciate it deeply, dear friend." Hermes smiled warmly.
He spotted something glinting in Triton's hair. Pulling it loose, he found a small, round stone, dark as the night sky. Hermes rolled it around in his palm a bit.
"Ah, a black pearl," Triton commented, looking over the orb. "Want to keep it? I have plenty."
Sure enough, Hermes could see more than a handful of the orbs peeking through his friend's green locks.
"You save them there intentionally?" Hermes asked.
"Some of them, sure!" Triton chuckled and tucked a wet swath of hair behind his pointed ear with his webbed, taloned fingertips. "Take that one. Maybe it will bring you good fortune on your search for what ails the Styx."
Just as Hermes moved to drop the pearl into his messenger bag, the entire bag began to glow with a brilliant golden light. He was being summoned to Olympus. It was urgent, as only his father Zeus had permission to request him in such a way. Sighing, Hermes tucked his pearl into the safety of an internal pocket, coincidentally next to the letter that Charon had written him.
"Well, seems I'm off to see what's got my Pop in a tizzy this time!" Hermes announced as he lifted off the sea rock to float in the air over Triton. "Do give me a summons if your flipper-y friends discover something useful?"
"Of course, darling Hermes. But don't keep yourself away too long this time, even if we can't be of help. Things get terribly dull around here, you know. I'm practically drowning in boredom!"
Hermes rolled his eyes and gave one last ruffle of Triton's hair before bolting off to the rapidly building crisis that awaited him on Olympus.
***
Charon let out a sighing groan when he finally was able to face the God of the Dead and his mother, Night Incarnate. Thanatos had to be called to teleport him in, since Charon's ferry ran aground in the temple, and could no longer navigate the rapidly-diminishing waters of the Styx further downstream.
The sight that awaited him in the House was not a pretty one — Hades was in a fury, while Nyx seemed more perplexed than anything else, though her placid countenance hid many troubling emotions well. In all honesty, Charon felt they had both lost sight of the bigger picture. Something had been affecting the Styx for months now, and they dismissed his concerns. No mortal obstruction could cause such an upheaval in the way the Styx worked, and they were only now beginning to take Charon's worries seriously.
Had they listened before, this could have possibly been avoided. Charon might have been given leave to sail upstream, or perhaps the Olympians could have given Hermes the time to fly far enough to find the problem. Now, the entire Underworld was in a panic.
"I apologize, my son, for not heeding your concern. No one knows the Styx as well as you, and your attempts to communicate the seriousness of the issue to myself and Lord Hades should have been taken more seriously."
A loud rattle and plumes of purple smoke escaped from Charon's skeletal mouth, and he gripped his ever-present oar to point it at his mother and the imposing figure behind the desk.
Even Lord Hades knew what Charon was trying to communicate this time. "Yes yes, you told us so. Now how can we fix this? The shores of the Styx cannot be home to so many shades, and the dead will continue to die . I'm expecting a message from my brothers, and much as I loathedoing so, I'll have to cooperate with them to get this matter settled."
***
"What do you mean it's run dry? That happened so fast , I wasn't expecting it to get this bad so soon!" Hermes, stunned by how quickly something occurred? He'd laugh it off if this wasn't so serious. And here he'd just asked Triton to help him!
"It's not completely dry just yet, nephew. But the ferryman's boat can't go past the Temple of Styx, so I hear. And if the ferryman can't do his job—" Poseidon's clarification was cut short.
"You don't need to tell him what will happen, brother. Hermes is a psychopomp, he's well aware of the dangers here." Zeus turned to face his son, concern writ large on his face. "I'm also afraid that as a psychopomp, it is your duty to help solve the problem."
"What, me? But what about Thanatos?" Hermes was confused. He had other duties to travelers, merchants, and thieves, and he was the main messenger for his family on Olympus. Being a psychopomp was secondary to him, if anything! True, an important secondary, but secondary nonetheless.
Poseidon scoffed. "Little nephew, the mortals cannot simply stop dying . Besides! It's a journey! You'll get to travel and see more of the world! Those are in your domain as well."
Dionysus was the next to chip in. "C'mon, man. Just because it's a serious cause doesn't mean you can't at least try to have a little fun on the way."
Hermes… couldn't exactly argue against those. It was true, if he were to tag along on this expedition, then the going would be easier. And he did want to get out of Greece more often.
It still didn't sit quite right with him, though. Besides, he was under the impression that Charon didn't really care for him all that much. It'd be an awkward journey, at best. A miserable one, at worst.
***
Charon's gravelly voice filled the chamber, plumes of chthonic purple smoke wreathing his entire figure. This simply couldn't be right. True, he expected to have to go find the source of the Styx's troubles, as his job was essentially useless with the way things were right now. But to be told he must take a companion at the behest of Olympus? And Hermes no less.
Perhaps the only saving grace might be that Hermes ought to be able to get them there and back in a reasonable amount of time. Charon still wasn't fond of the idea. That chatterbox, a traveling companion, for likely several days each way? Charon would go mad.
"Nnnnhaaaahhhh." Again, Charon used his oar to gesture, this time towards Thanatos.
"You know as well as anyone that Thanatos still has other responsibilities. His work as a psychopomp is secondary to his work as Death." Nyx's voice was calm and smooth, almost placating. Charon knew, of course, but he would still prefer his brother's company to that of Hermes.
"I'm sorry, Charon. If I could go with you, I would." Thanatos bowed his head slightly, and while it didn't change anything, it did make Charon feel slightly better.
It also, unfortunately, made sense for it to be Hermes. He was not the only messenger Olympus had available, and he was the god of travelers, as well as an important psychopomp himself. Such a traversal would be made much easier with Hermes at his side, but that didn't mean Charon had to like it.
***
"You'll meet each other in three day's time. Pack well for your journey." The advice was given to both Charon and Hermes. Despite how dismal the trip ahead might be, both thought that it should start quickly. And then, when they did finally meet up, the Styx was totally dry.
"Well, associate. Looks like we've got a long way ahead of us. Shall we begin?" Hermes tried to sound chipper. Even if Charon didn't care for him, it was better to have a cheerful face on to give them both a more positive outlook.
"Hhhhhrrnnn." While Hermes couldn't exactly translate the unearthly moan, the way the boatman pointed upstream with his oar said more than enough for now.
Time to be on their way.
