The Underworld
Details time!...Let me introduce you to the underworld...
Let’s start with the plumbing. Five different rivers flowed into the Underworld.
The least dangerous was the Cocytus, the River of Wailing, which looked tame enough. Its dark-blue waters wound peacefully through the plains of Erebos, with plenty of nice-looking spots on the riverbank for a picnic; but if you got too close, you would hear the cries of tortured souls churning in the current. See, the Cocytus was fed by the tears of the damned. Just being near it would send you into a state of depression.
The second river was the Phlegethon, the River of Fire. It roared through the Underworld caverns like a torrent of burning gasoline, cutting channels through the black volcanic rock, lighting everything bloodred, filling the air with smoke and fumes until finally the river plummeted as a fiery waterfall into the deeper abyss of Tartarus, which was like the basement of the basement.
The crazy thing was, Phlegethon water wouldn’t kill you, even if you were mortal. Sure, it would burn like radioactive chili peppers sautéed in acid. It would make you wish you were dead. But the river was actually designed to keep its victims alive so that they could suffer forever—hooray! Many damned souls had to swim through it for all eternity, or be stuck in the fiery water up to their necks. According to some legends, the Phlegethon could eventually burn away your sins and let you go free if you were really, really sorry for the things you’d done.
River number three, the Acheron, was the River of Pain. If you guessed it was painful, you win a chocolate! The Acheron started in the mortal world, near a temple of the dead in Epirus. Maybe that’s why ghosts were drawn to it and filled the river with their own pain and suffering. The Acheron meandered along until it plunged underground and tumbled into Erebos. There it widened into a dark, steamy, swampy expanse that caused pain to anyone unlucky enough to touch its waters or even hear its current. After a while, the Acheron split into two smaller rivers—the Cocytus and the Styx—that flowed in opposite directions until they both spilled into Tartarus.
River number four was my least personal favorite: the Lethe, River of Forgetfulness. Anyway, the Lethe looked harmless. In most places it was a gentle span of milky-white water that rolled over a shallow bed of stones, softly gurgling in a way that made your eyes feel heavy. You would think you could wade across this river, no problem. My advice? Don’t. A single drop of Lethe water would wipe your short-term memory. You wouldn’t remember anything that happened in the last week. Take a full drink, or wade into those waters, and your mind would be completely erased. You wouldn’t remember your own name, or where you came from, or even that the New York Yankees are obviously better than the Boston Red Sox. I know—terrifying right? For some spirits of the dead, however, the Lethe was actually a blessing. Crowds of ghosts were always gathered at the banks, drinking from the river so that they could forget their former lives, because you can’t miss what you don’t remember. Occasionally spirits were even allowed to reincarnate—to be reborn in the mortal world for another life. If you took that chance, you had to drink from the Lethe first so that you wouldn’t remember your old life.
The fifth river of the Underworld was the Styx, the River of Hate. The Styx flowed through the deepest, darkest parts of the Underworld. Some legends claimed it was created by the water Titan, Tethys, and was fed by salty springs from the bottom of the ocean. The Styx circled Erebos like a moat, so you pretty much had to cross it to get into the Underworld. The current was dark and sluggish, always shrouded in foul-smelling mist, and the water was corrosive to mortal flesh. Mix sulfuric acid with sewage and a splash of liquid hatred, and you’ve got the Styx.
From where did i get so much information? Excuse me...I read !
The problem was, the souls had no reliable way to cross the River Styx. A few managed to swim it. Others tried, only to dissolve in the water. Many just wandered along the mortal side of the river,
wailing and pointing at the other side like, I wanna go that way!
Finally, one industrious daimon named Charon decided to go into business. And, we were dumped there. Charon ferried souls to the plains of Erebos by charging a small amount.
I didn't have any!
(Cont. in Chapter-5)
