4.52 The Other Acheron

Acheron leans forward. "How do we seek guidance, exactly?"

"With our powers combined, we may be able to summon my goddess."

"Are you trying to circumvent the charm and get me killed underhandedly?"

Claire twitches. "I..."

"Never mind! We can't summon an elderfae here."

"An elderfae?"

"You know, fairy first generation progenitor? Just a guess that's what she is. I don't know if I'm ready to deal with that. Elderfae are very dangerous, and some of my family are very vulnerable."

"I promise the risk will only be to us two." Claire chews on her lower lip for a moment. "And I am taking a risk... Styx is not merciful if she is summoned for reasons she deems unimportant. No one in recent times has dared to try."

However, she leaves unsaid, the goddess is supposed to offer protection against supernatural creatures, and she will know if Claire is in need of protection now. Surely the deal with her ancestors still stands. Then again, Claire could be judged a failure, unworthy of assistance. But no, she can't stand to think about it—Acheron must not be a coincidence. This is destiny. They will both be fine if they are meant to be. She steels herself.

So does he. "Then tell me what to do."

First of all, the ritual needs a lot of prep.

Claire takes a look around at what she has to work with.

Secondly, they need to learn how to work together.
 

Claire can't help but to grin. "Wow, you're syncing with me so easily. You're a natural."

Acheron smiles back at her. "I've had a lot of practice."

As the days drag by, Orazia grows suspicious. "I don't know what they're doing in there so often, but I don't like it."

"Did the charm wear off yet?" Dysen asks.

"Yes, I think so."

"Does Claire know it wore off?"

Claire has been coached with a cover story.

She's supposedly in Acheron's computer literacy class.

Claire stumbles across Dysen meditating. "It's impressive you werewolves keep yourselves in control so well. Acheron has been telling me about it. Your incense is nice, but I could make some with actual calming properties, if you like..."

He wasn't interested. He just stalked off. Claire frowns to herself and curls up on the sofa, the only place in the house available for her to sleep.

Wolfsbane, a spotlight mushroom, a red toadstool, a chunk of beeswax, a vial of melted metal... alchemy can get weird, but Claire and Acheron are not afraid. They've placed what they'll need on a fold out table and proceed to mix up something... inadvisable.

Don't kill yourselves, you two.

The final step is to drink the potions.

Acheron coughs violently. "Augh, that's foul."

Claire grimaces. "Yeah, maybe a little heavy on the... the..."

They find themselves outside the house, on the beach. A fairy emerges from the ocean.

"Why have you brought me to these dead waters?" she asks, her voice low and laced with warning.

"Are you the goddess Styx?" Claire asks, already half-bowed in terror, while Acheron just stands there, unimpressed. He notices his shoes do not sink into the sand as much as they should; it's as if he's so light, he isn't even here.

"Aye, mortal child." Styx looks Claire up and down. Her hair flows oddly, like an oil painting come to life, while her shimmering sapphire wings sway slowly in contemplation. Even the markings on her skin don't seem to stay in one place; their edges are as if viewed through moving water. "Though I have not been called so in a long time."

Claire digs in her pockets and is relieved to find her family's talisman. She shows it to the fairy. "My coven still uses the magic you taught us. We still follow the guidance you gave us. But for the first time, I've been given reason to need further guidance."

The fairy's eyes narrow. "Was I unclear?"

"Hey!" Sensing danger, Acheron tries to draw the fairy's attention away from Claire. "Yes. You. Look over here."

She does. Fairies are easily distracted. Even when they're about to smite.

"You gave them a spell to get power from killing off elves? The hell. Why?"

"...I see you have taken to hybridization to survive," Styx sneers.

"Is there a hell? Nobody seems to think so, but then we've got Styx, Lethe... Acheron...."

"You..." she snarls, her gaze hardening in recognition.

Acheron wanted to be bold, but finds himself back-stepping from the intense glare. "Have we met?"

"Were I to inflict a thousand more tortures it would not be enough. For I am still denied the power to destroy you."

"Don't be like that. You have to know I can't remember whatever it is I did."

 She looks away for a moment, and then her face softens into a sad chuckle. "It's strange to see you like this. The one who killed Acheron, just a child."

"What?" Claire whispers.

"No idea," Acheron whispers back.

"When Kir freed us from the unaware primordial darkness, he said he would protect us. We would never have to sleep again. We took an oath to stand beside him against his brother, who wanted to resurrect the first gods who had imprisoned us. We never wished for the recursive time, but we supported him in this too. We did so for uncountable cycles. Acheron and I guarded the underworld until you vanquished him. You, with your... name. As if you'd been born for this purpose." A gleaming turquoise colored tear drips out of one of her eyes. "Thus ended our contract with Kir. Though the others tell me he has been using you, as if you could possibly take Acheron's place."

Acheron pales. "Am I some kind of chimerical creature?"

"No, Admin. But names still have power. I made it so that in killing Acheron, you took on our binding oath. You are unable to actually harm Kir... just like my Acheron was. I hope you realize it was a steep price for your victory."

There is a reason Acheron can get so close to the djinn at the end of the world.

The djinn believes Acheron is incapable of harming him.

"How many curses am I under exactly?!"

"Admin?" Claire questions.

Acheron looks back to Styx. "Right, if you could just break character for a moment, and tell me what's really going on, that'd be helpful."

"I have told you much already, and you have given me nothing."

"Well, what you want?" Claire interjects. "Why did you ask us to rid the world of elves for you?"

"They have always had the potential to end my world."

"This is my world too!" Acheron protests. "I'd protect it, not destroy it."

Styx's wings stop beating. The dark blue sparkles around them float slowly down to the sand at her feet. "Perhaps that is so. I'd never considered that."

"That doesn't make any sense..." Claire whispers.

"I think it's Kir who failed you," Acheron says slowly. "He used you. He didn't protect you when he said he would, and this 'recursive time' must be miserable for you..."

"Kir is not as he promised," Styx agrees. "You will destroy him?"

"Not if I'm cursed."

"Very well then. Things cannot stay as they are. I release you from the binding."

Flashes of light spring from the fairy's hands. Acheron sees himself as an older man, in another cycle, hurling magic at a different fairy, one with wings so dark they seem to absorb light. It's a memory so clear, so visceral, so filled with cold fury, he can no longer cling to the possibility his past iterations have no bearing on who he is now. There is no underworld, Styx's voice rings in his head, meant for only him to hear, but there is nothingness. You sent the other Acheron to that fate. I will always grieve.

You're unaffected by recursive time, Acheron thinks at her. Why pretend?

We fae created others like us, in this realm of fantasy. And our children and theirs and theirs are stuck... like you. This is all they have ever known. I watch them learn and grow, only to have it stripped from them each cycle. What you call 'pretending' is the only way I know to cope. For I cannot repair what has been done... and with Sir Kay locked out, I have come to accept no one can.

"I don't understand," Claire says, once Styx is finished with her light show. "How can you trust him? With anything? Are his kind not evil?"

"Evil has meaning to humans, not to fae," Acheron dares to say. "She tempted your ancestors with power and longer lives, in exchange for eradicating people who hadn't even done anything to her."

Claire shakes her head. "No, that makes no sense..."

Acheron glances at Styx. "Tell her."

Styx doesn't seem offended. "I did as I thought was best then. Be grateful I have changed my mind."

 Claire is not appeased. "You... you lied to us?"

At first Styx seems annoyed, but after a moment's consideration, she takes pity on her 'follower', and offers Claire a few precious handfuls of dust. "I let your ancestors believe as they wanted to believe. Their greed filled in the gaps."

"W-what's this?"

"My blessing. May you see friend from foe more clearly, and may oaths to you stay true."

Claire sits up with a gasp. Potions are a hell of a drug.

"I wish Lethe was that easy..." Acheron groans.

"That was so cool!" Claire laughs. "Now explain it to me please because I don't know what happened or who Kir is or whattheplumbobs?"

 They get to their feet. Claire notices she has something she didn't have before. "Acheron... look..."





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Etc.: Did Charon ferry the dead across the Acheron, or the Styx? Depends on your source.

Wikipedia has this to say about Styx: "The deities of the Greek pantheon swore all their oaths upon the river Styx because, according to classical mythology, during the Titan war, Styx, the goddess of the river, sided with Zeus. After the war, Zeus declared that every oath must be sworn upon her."