Mike sat for a while, watching as some of the shades got bored and wandered. Mike sat, he didn’t know for how long. Soon, it was silent. To amuse himself, he drew runes, trying to summon light but summoned darkness instead. He tried to get fire, but nothing happened. He tried to turn the stone to marble, and that worked.
Mike felt that if he moved, if he explored, he would never get a chance to go back. Here, at the entry of the amphitheater, Charon’s boat would come back, and he would, possibly, be able to get back aboard somehow and find his way back.
“Lonely here, isn’t it?”
Mike turned to the sound of the voice, and saw a man in full Greek armor and kingly robes standing behind him. He hadn’t even heard him. The man spoke in Greek, which Mike knew from reading and writing. He translated his thoughts into Greek, “Enjoying the silence.”
“Ah,” said the man, and he sat next to Mike, leaning on his spear. “You haven’t been judged yet.”
“I’m in no hurry, and it’s not like anyone’s going anywhere.”
“I can tell you won’t be going to Tartarus.”
Mike smiled, “And I’m not going to Elysium, either.”
“You never know.”
“I already know.”
“Oh?”
Mike turned to the man. “I pledged myself to Hades a long time ago. He has plans for me.”
“Tell me, what are these plans?”
“I’m to be one of the Oneroi.”
“A dream messenger, to travel to the land of the living – and a warrior at time of need.”
Mike said, “What?”
“You haven’t studied the old gods enough, have you, Michael?”
“I’m afraid you have the advantage of me.”
“Unfortunately, you will not step among the living as a man, not unless and until you are called, and at very great cost to the summoner.”
“Who are you?” Mike demanded.
“King Rhadamanthys.”
Mike nodded, one of the judges of the dead. “Who would call me?”
Rhadamanthys shrugged, “An enemy, a friend…but they will have to go through Hades, first, and only one chose so far to do that on your behalf.” The king looked out at the amphitheater. “Look and see, as the shades perform.”
Mike watched as three figures, darker than the rest of the area, came forward. They were nondescript, yet one looked like it was holding its hands before its face, like a mask. Two figures approached the third. They conversed, yet they were whispers on the wind. Mike got up and ran down the steps of the theater to get closer, to try and listen, kneeling in the dirt at the edge of the stage. Even as he got closer, they were still whispers. Then one offered his hand, and the other motioned. A green light came from the motioning shade’s “hand” and dropped into the other’s. As soon as it did, all three of the shades turned to face Mike. They bowed, and walked off the stage.
“He didn’t…”
“He did,” said Rhadamanthys, standing behind Mike. “Brought it to Hades himself.”
“Now what is he going to do?”
“Live, like you asked him.”
Mike got up and glared at Rhadamanthys. “And Hades is going to hold up his part of the bargain? No tricks?”
“No tricks, Michael.” After a mment, Rhadamanthys said gently, “Are you ready now?”
“Give me some time,” muttered Mike, wiping at his eyes, although knowing that no tears would fall ever again.
“You have eternity.”