Chapter Text
Waking up was not with a start, but was a rather slow process of pins and needles.
They opened their eyes, and found themself lying in the dark. They were cold, which they found unusual. A mist clung to their skin.
A feeling of wrongness settled in their stomach as they curled their fingers up, but they couldn’t figure what was wrong. Nothing seemed out of place. They had two legs, two arms, two eyes… All of their limbs were attached and intact. At least, they were fairly certain they were supposed to have four limbs. Still, part of them felt missing .
They racked their brain, searching for a clue for what it could be, but they found they had no memories. Were they a child, then?
No, their body was much too big for a child’s, and they doubted they would be as aware as they were if they were a child.
So, was it their memories that were missing? Was that the wrongness? Well, yes, but that wasn’t entirely it, they didn’t think. Something else seemed to be wrong. And it wasn’t as if they were a complete clean slate— they still had knowledge. they knew that “waking up” might be the most correct term, but it still didn’t feel right. They were already standing upright, and they were almost certain they hadn’t fallen asleep. They also knew that the indistinct and hazy white clouds floating past were people. Or, spirits rather. They weren't sure how they knew— the spirits didn’t have much of a physical form that they could see. Not one that had human features. But they knew it without a doubt. Vaguely, they wondered if that knowledge should scare them; shouldn’t they be scared of ghosts?
But part of them, the part that was missing something , told them that this was normal. This was nothing to be afraid of. That these spirits were harmless.
They wondered if they were a spirit.
The landscape was grey and drab. The ground was a flat plane covered in withered grey grass, speckled with twisted ash trees that had lost all their leaves. It looked like the place had been ravaged by a fire, and there was no hope of regrowth.
Fire…
They felt a stabbing pain in their skull, and they cried out, crumbling to their knees as they clutched their head. Their vision flickered red and yellow with flames and they closed their eyes tightly. The pain stopped as suddenly as it had started.
Fire… There was something significant to that. Something they were supposed to know.
Maybe fire was what was missing.
They slowly climbed back to their feet, careful, worried the pain would start again. They looked around, but the hazy spirits continued to drift aimlessly, paying them no mind.
They surveyed the landscape again. There had to be something, some clue as to where to go to find what was missing.
Out of the corner of their eye, they saw the glint of water. A cloudy grey river cut through the grass. Their instincts cried out. The something missing told them to get away from the river, to stay away. But another part of them, a deeper survival instinct that had been instilled in them even earlier, told them to follow it. If they followed the river downstream, then surely there would be people. Hopefully, living people.
They tried to remember where they had learned that, but they were pulling at a memory that wasn’t there.
They stood, debating internally if they should follow the river, before compromising with themself. They would follow the river, but they wouldn’t travel along the bank. They would keep their distance- close enough that they could keep the river in their sight, but far enough that they wouldn’t slip and fall in.
It wasn’t as if they had much else of a choice. If they wanted to find the something missing, they had to find people.
~~~~~~~~~~
Traveling was weird, although they didn’t exactly know how to explain it. It was different, that much they knew, but they didn’t know how exactly it differed from what they were used to. Their feet didn’t touch the grey grass. Instead, they floated about two inches off of it, and leaned in the direction they wanted to go.
Like a Segway…
What’s a Segway?
The longer they traveled, the less they feared falling into the river. They continued to float closer and closer to it, until they were at the edge of its bank. They still were careful, not daring to test the limits of their floating abilities to see if they could float above the river too, but they grew more confident.
Time seemed to pass slowly, until they realised that time wasn’t passing at all and the fuzzy white sun hidden behind grey clouds hadn’t moved since they had woken up.
There were less and less of the hazy spirit clouds as they followed the river. The spirits seemed to be confined to one area, and they wondered if there was going to be a point where they wouldn’t be able to go any further. But they thought they were different from the others. somehow. The spirits didn’t seem to be all there. They muttered to themselves, crying and apologising or listing off names.
Maybe that’s what they were missing.
They kept going forward. Nothing tried to stop them.
The journey wasn’t hard. They didn’t get tired or hungry. But they did get bored. They found themself stopping at the infrequent ash trees and breaking off the brittle twigs. They plucked long grass from the banks of the river. They made themself a slingshot, and sent pebbles from the riverbank flying into the water. The water didn’t ripple or splash as the stones went into it- they just sort of disappeared , like they were hitting a portal and vanishing to the other side.
The slingshot didn’t cure their boredom for long. They tossed it into the river (where it vanished the same way), and collected more random, natural materials that they could find. It probably made the journey twice as long, but it made it feel shorter, and certainly more bearable. They didn’t even know where they were going.
Finally, in the distance, they saw it— a castle carved out of midnight black onyx and marble. They started to move faster, drifting closer to the castle.
As they got closer, the landscape shifted. The grey grass melted into lively green fields. The ash trees became covered in leaves and spring buds. Along the pebbled bank of the river, precious metals and gemstones appeared. The gold ore made them feel a sort of longing, but it was part of the something missing. They weren't sure why the gold made them feel so homesick. Still, they picked up a smoothed over gold stone from the banks, rounded from the river water, and held it in their hand.
It was odd, the stark difference between the withered landscape they had come from and the land around the castle. As they got closer, they saw more life forms, although none of them seemed totally alive, and some of them not completely human.
Above them flew red and black feathered ladies, who occasionally swooped down and carried off poor wandering creatures from the ground. No one seemed to pay any mind to them. Stumbling around were ghouls, their skin half sloughed off, and spirits, although they seemed much more aware than the ones in the ashen plains. Creatures of otherworldly beauty, dark and dangerous, seemed to float above the ground as they walked among the rest, their outfits reminiscent of ancient togas and dresses.
It was astonishing, the bustling of the street. It reminded them of the city, people moving to and from, never ceasing. They weren’t exactly sure what a city was, though, as the thought crossed their mind.
They jolted as they felt pressure on their body. Dizziness overtook them as a half human, half flaming goat woman pushed through their incorporeal body. “Move it,” she hissed.
They quickly floated out of the way. They couldn’t just stay here. They had to keep moving. They just didn’t know where.
They guessed the castle was their best bet. It was at least a landmark. If nothing else, they’d know where they were and could get back to it if they needed to. Besides, someone in charge had to be there.
They started off, gripping the golden stone tightly in their hand.
~~~~~~~~~~
It was unsettlingly easy to get onto the castle grounds. There were no guards that they could see, and the wall was easy to scale. They fell once, but they focused their energy into floating, and while it was exhausting, they managed to slow their descent nearly to a stop. They didn’t even know if they would have gotten hurt if they had hit the ground, but they didn’t want to risk it.
Unfortunately, the castle was weird . There were no doors that they could see. They placed their hand on the walls, but they didn’t get the feeling that there were any secret passages either. There was something different about the castle- something they couldn’t quite grasp.
The only part of the castle that they could get into was the garden, which was open to the grounds.
The garden was beautiful, for a garden. There were flowers everywhere in all colours and sizes, ones that they didn’t think they would have been able to name even if they weren't missing something . White lattice marble arches stretched across the garden, ivy vines growing up them. A small pond was in the corner of the garden, with a trickling waterfall, and they could see fish swimming in the water. It was different water than the river they had followed to the castle- this water was blue and crystal clear. It smelled like spring. They looked up, following the waterfall with their eyes, but they couldn’t see where it began. It disappeared into the sky.
Along the edge of the garden was a row of trees, each one growing something different. One was a flowering tree, with petals a soft lilac purple. One was an apple tree, but the apples were different, off… They were glowing golden .
The tree closest to the castle was obviously important. It was surrounded by pink rose bushes, with a limestone path leading up to it. An alternating pattern of purple geodes and black onyx bricks were walling the base.
It was a pomegranate tree.
Something faintly tugged at the corner of their mind. Something important about pomegranates…
“It appears I have found a lost soul.”
They startled and spun around quickly at the voice.
The speaker was a young woman, no older than twenty five, with long hazelnut hair braided down her back. The flowers from the garden were strewn into her braid. Her dress was a simple spring gown in lilac purple, embellished with gold and white flower print, but when she moved, the dress flicked out of form into a flowing white Grecian gown. She was barefoot, and carried herself with ease.
The most startling thing about her, though, was she was easily twelve feet tall, and alive. She radiated energy that was vastly different from the rest of the inhabitants of wherever they were. Her cheeks were flushed pink with life, and her smile held warmth. There was no malice in her voice or her eyes, but they still shrunk back away from her. They got the feeling that, even had she not been twelve feet tall, she was someone to be scared of.
“No, no, you need not worry. My garden is open to all spirits.” She looked around her garden lovingly, her eyes stopping on the pomegranate tree they had been looking at. “Yes, that was a wedding gift from my husband. He has a sense of humor, doesn’t he?” She chuckled, but they didn’t get the joke. “Now, tell me,” she folded her hands in front of her, “who are you?”
They opened their mouth to answer, but paused. It had only just occurred to them that they didn’t know their own name. They hadn’t bothered to think about it before now, but who exactly were they? Was that the something missing? It must be…
Their silence didn’t seem to dissuade the woman. They didn’t think she even noticed it. “All you demigods blend together. I know Nico and Hazel, and that one who came to visit a few years back… what was his name? Jackson something… Anyhow, I’m sure I’ve seen you before somewhere.”
“Hazel…” they tested the name. It felt familiar to them, but they weren't sure why.
The woman nodded. “So you’re Hazel’s friend? Ah, that must be where I’ve seen you. Yes, yes, come along darling!” She ushered them along, under the marble lattices and towards the house. “Your memories are all a flutter, aren’t they? You must have slipped through. I’ll make sure my husband gets you to judgement. And don’t worry, I know he’s protective of Hazel, so I'll make sure he’s fair about it.”
She pushed them through the wall of the castle, only it wasn’t a wall. It disappeared when the woman reached, becoming an arching doorway to the garden.
The inside of the palace was just as impressive, if not more so, than the outside. The door-wall opened up to a dining room, where a large table was carved out of white marble and inlaid with gold, seemingly melded with the floor. From the ceiling hung a salt-rock chandelier, which casted the room with warm lighting. Blue and white hazy spirits wisped around the room hurriedly, moving things from here to there to here with seemingly no reason.
“Dearest, I’ve brought you something!” the woman called into the enormous palace. They didn’t see how there could be a way that whoever she was calling for (her husband most likely) would hear her. However, they weren't surprised when they heard a reply.
“I’m working, my pet.”
The woman puffed out her cheeks. “He’s always like this. Putting his work before me. He wonders why I have to take a season away from him,” she said to him. “Come along. He’ll be in the throne room.”
The throne room was impressive. On a platform at the back of the room, a giant onyx throne was placed, with a delicate silver and purple geode studded thone sat to the right.
What was more impressive was the man sat on the throne.
While it was hard to gauge his height sitting down, they would have guessed the man to be easily as tall as the woman, if not taller. He was rather clean cut, wearing a black suit with silver pinstripes, but his hair hung to his shoulders, so black it almost blended into the onyx throne. His skin was pale ivory pale, and unlike his wife, he didn’t have the liveliness in his flesh.
In front of the man knelt a ghoul with peeling skin, speaking in a language that they didn’t understand. The ghoul’s words were quick as they fell out of his mangled mouth, and clean. Vaguely, they translated the words, but the meaning left them as soon as they grasped it. They weren't sure if they had actually understood the foreign language, if just for a split second, or if they had assigned a meaning to it.
The man held up his hand, silencing the ghoul, as he saw them and his wife walk into the throne room.
“Persephone, what is this?” the man asked.
The woman, Persephone, smiled. “Hades, dear, I found them wandering in my garden. I think they slipped through the cracks— their memories are all muddled. Did they ever get a proper judgement?”
Hades fixed them with a cold look. His eyes were black. So black, they almost glowed purple. He waved away the ghoul, and he scrambled out of the throne room, bowing and muttering in his odd language as he went. Hades leaned forward, and his pinstriped suit shifted. For a moment, he was wearing a black toga. Agonized faces were pressed into the fabric, shifting and screaming silently. On his head was a black and silver laurel. Then his suit shifted back into reality.
“I suppose it’s possible they managed to slip through the Doors before they were properly closed.” Hades sighed and waved a hand, summoning a scroll of parchment from nowhere. “Minos won’t take kindly to this,” he grumbled. “It throws off his schedule. Judgments are booked back-to-back for the next century or so.” Hades peered over the top of the parchment. “Are you sure they haven’t been judged yet, my flower? Their spirit looks much too sturdy for a soul in waiting.”
“Well, how else do you suppose they got into my garden?” Persephone responded.
“Peculiar,” Hades said in lue of a response. He waved his hand again, vanishing the parchment, and stood from his throne. “Judged spirits cannot generally leave their assigned field, but there have been exceptions. If the judges reevaluated their case and came to a different conclusion than had been previously established, this soul could just be wandering until they find their new place.” Hades stepped down from the raised platform and made his way towards Persephone and the wandering spirit beside her. “I’ll read their actions and judgement, and send them on their way to the proper realm.”
Hades reached his large hand out toward the spirit, and they half-expected it to phase right through them as the flaming goat-woman had. They were startled to feel solid pressure against their forehead as a palm came in contact with them.
They felt the excruciating pain burst through their head again. Fuzzy images played behind their eyelids as they clenched them shut, unable to do much else against the pain. They were overwhelmed by a barrage of voices echoing around them, each sounding so unique and familiar and so unreachable.
Hades jerked his hand back, and the spirit pulled away as soon as the contact was broken. The pain instantly faded, and the voices stopped bouncing around their ears.
“There’s nothing,” Hades said.
“What do you mean?” Persephone asked. The spirit warily opened their eyes and floated further back away from Hades, almost hiding behind Persephone. They did not want to experience that again.
“I mean there’s nothing . They have no memories, no acts to judge, no allies or enemies… They might as well not exist.” Hades shook his head, and the silver laurel appeared for a moment. “So far as I can tell, they’re being held together merely by stories and memories. But you know how mortals are, my love. They always forget, sooner or later.”
