The Price of Leaving

Long ago in a time when cities rose from the lands challenged conquered by great heroes, there lived a man, Verikles, and his wife, Marikna, who lived on their estate built up by hand through the years. At first they celebrated the finished product of their estate, hosting grand parties inviting family and friend alike to show off their newly built home, but as time went on they soon grew in popularity attracting the attention of the nobles in their country. This attention brought the couple fame and fortune as they soon became the hosts for political events and parties spurred by the nobles. Though the two were happy that other people would enjoy their magnificent creation, they quickly lost time to themselves and living in their own home became almost a job in itself leaving less and less room for the couple to take care of each other.

After some time living with the continuous rush of visitors and events, the wife grew ill and became bedridden, causing the man to close their estate from all except family and doctor. The closing of the estate caused rumblings in the city for they no longer had a lone estate to leave to and enjoy. Though at the estate itself, there was never a letter or gift left for the man and his wife in this time of illness. Not one of the people who participated in the parties or events nor the family they cherished to invite dared to visit in their time of need as the wife's condition worsened with passing time.

Time went by and the city's doctors could not cure the wife and support for the couple was lacking, much of their saved fortune was spent on hiring the various people to search for exotic plants and cures and their home soon became an empty shell. But with all but each other gone, Marikna was still battling the disease that gripped her, one that had shown up without a warning, and took her away on a dark night, the moon hiding behind a wall of dark clouds crying out with thunder.

Everything was gone, the world began to grey in the widower's eyes and all but the sun was dark. His home was empty and quiet, dust and cobwebs consuming every corner and empty surface. It was as if someone had built the place up and left it for months, but one soul remained in the place, one out of hundreds that had rushed through the halls and danced in the now barren rooms, Verikles kneeled in prayer at the last bed his wife had laid in, the last thing he would sell before the city came to collect the taxes. He begged the collectors the last month for more time, but this time they would not be so kind, his time was up and his estate worthless, nothing he could do would keep him from losing the last place Marikna loved so much, they planned to live there, raise children and be happy but once they opened their home, that dream was swept away by those crowds of people wishing to get the most out of their hospitality. With these thoughts an anger bubbled up within him, but soon it just faded back into grief. He wanted her back, Verikles would shake the world if it meant to get his beloved back, there had to be a way, and a way he searched for in ancient tomes and rituals of death, alchemy and prayer.

Over time, Verikles found something akin to opening a door to death, a ritual was needed but getting to the underworld was found to be easy enough, though not much was known about getting out. But this did not stop him as he felt the end ever so near, the ritual complete and he stood, wide eyed as a door of stone and bone appeared before him in his empty basement underneath the estate. All he would have to do is open it and venture into hades to find his beloved. But what he thought would be simple now shown to be unforgiving and cruel as the door opened to reveal a world of fire and death, creatures of horror and cruelty scattered among the remains of dead titans that once walked within. Fear welled up within him and threatened to rip him from the unholy sight. But at a point of calm and clarity he could hear the sweet voice of Marikna singing softly in the distance, at this, he dived into the abyss that had opened up before him.

The time spent in the Underworld meant nothing but pain to him as he made his way along a river of souls before finally reaching another door much like one he had entered from but much larger as it rose as high as a tower and guarded by a beast of domination, a hound with three heads and flesh that rippled beneath scale and fur. As he watched the lines of souls come and go walking beneath the great beast and laying gifts at its feet before entering past it to beyond, he knew this was where soul and the afterlife truly meet and among those souls his wife had walked. With charred flesh and dried bones, what was left of the husband approached this monster and offered all he could to the beast to let him pass on, but alas the three heads watched as he gave it the items he had scavenged from this world and the last they took no interest and rended his flesh until he would retreat. Despairing he gave up the last thing he would ever, the rings of his and his wife along with the rambling story of how he came to be there. This is when the beast listened and watched the walking corpse sit and wallow in sadness and despair that dragged on for hours until finally the creature spoke in three voices their own but with one purpose. It would offer him a chance to see his wife again in return for taking the post to guard the door and collect the tributes of the fallen as the beast would take leave of this hell for just a short time, he would allow him to be reunited with his love. And so the husband agreed and stood his post as the terrible beast walked away the same direction he had entered from.