memento mori

PART ONE: TARTARUS

Sing, o muse, the song of my love

Plucked straight from the strings of my heart

That I, naught but a lowly man, 

could gaze upon the splendor of you.

See, o muse, the grief of my love

Pulled tight at the edges of our eyes

Rivers of tears mar the skin of your face

What a beautiful lie, that love never dies.

Scream, o muse, the rage of my love

That which is hellfire, bright and hot

An all-consuming void, when my eyes meet yours

And I see the love that no longer breathes.

----

Fifteenth times the charm, or however the saying went. Wednesday gripped Stygius tightly in her hand and peered out over Tartarus’s jagged, sickly green cliffs. The distant screams of eternally tortured souls reached her ears and Wednesday allowed her lips to stretch into a small smirk. 

It was beautiful— dreadful and dreary with no room for any flame of hope to survive. She was going to miss it when she left. 

“Are you sure about this?” Pugsley asked. 

“Of course I’m sure,” Wednesday replied. She walked towards the racks that housed the Infernal Arms and ran her fingers over the smooth metal of Aegis. It vibrated underneath her fingers and she felt a rush of excitement. Without a second thought, she slung it off the railing and swung it at Pugsley’s head. It hit the skeletal side, ricocheted off the nearby pillar, and whirled neatly back into her hand.

Pugsley turned around and raised an eyebrow. His only eyebrow, really, seeing as the other side of his face was pure bone. “That was a little weak, don’t you think?” he asked. “I know you can hit harder than that.”

Wednesday huffed and hurled Aegis again before dashing forward and running him through with Stygius. Aegis hit the bridge of his nose with a dull clang! and he grunted. Wednesday pulled Stygius out, twisting the handle the tiniest bit and he settled into a steady stance. 

“It’s just that—” Whack! “—every time you go out—” Stab! “—you always—” Slash! “—end up—” Squelch! “—returning.” Boom!

Wednesday grunted and slammed into his gut at full speed, tucking her shoulder and head behind Aegis. Pugsley flew into the back wall and disintegrated into a pile of dust.

Wednesday waited for the tell-tale whoosh and spun around, seeing him hop in place a little before giving her a grin. “That was better,” he said.

“I keep coming back because Mother will not let me go,” she replied, walking towards the window that would lead to her escape. “But one day, I will succeed, and you will never see me again.”

Pugsley made a noise of protest as she swung Aegis and Stygius into their respective scabbards. 

With one last glare at the place that had imprisoned her for the entirety of her existence, she leaped out the window and onto the cracked stone below.

Damn it all, she was going to the surface even if she had to bring down the entire Underworld on her way.

----

Fighting her way out of her Mother's domain was not her first choice. That was reserved for the old, dusty, and very rocky path Xavier had used once upon a time— back when he had an actual drive to do things and was not sitting around in a jail cell, locked up for refusing to paint. It seemed simple enough: keep to the path until she saw the blinding light at the end of the tunnel. She had not even made it a third of the way through before it started to collapse and she got her shoulder smashed in by one very determined boulder.

Next, she tried swimming up the River Styx, fighting against the current with every stroke before inevitably passing out while clinging to one of the jagged rocks lining the bank. Uncle Fester came upon her unconscious body and plucked her out of the river, no doubt getting blood and leftover spirit bits on his raft and cloak, and then ferrying her back to the House before she could even voice out a protest. He then had the audacity to request payment for his help that she hadn't asked for. She hadn’t even made it out of Tartarus.

Finally, she attempted to stalkobserve Enid during her rounds of collecting the dying souls. It was not her finest moment, but she was at her wit’s end and desperate enough to think that Enid might have even a smidge of mercy for her plight. The girl was the embodiment of a peaceful death, after all, mercy was what she was all about! Alas, when Enid finally confronted her at the gates leading to Asphodel, Wednesday merely got a soft laugh and a tired ‘Go home, Wednesday.’ before Enid disappeared in a crack of light.

Figures.

It wasn’t until she had come across the window in her training room with a clear view of a hallway in Tartarus, that she accepted her fate. If her mother did not want her to leave the Underworld through subtler means, then she would take the hint and bulldoze her way through the realms until her head broke the surface and she felt the fabled sun’s rays on her skin for the first time.

----

Wednesday passed through the first few chambers with relative ease. She received only a shallow cut across her cheek and a bruise on her back, courtesy of the collapsing column she had knocked an enemy into. If everything went according to plan, maybe she would even make it out of Tartarus. The look of surprise and despair that was sure to be on Bianca’s face when that happened fueled her, and she sprinted into the next chamber, already hurling Aegis at whatever unsuspecting monster awaited her. 

What she received instead was a high-pitched shriek, the sound of a body toppling onto the floor, and sparks from where Aegis had ricocheted off the stone wall. Wednesday caught her shield without a second thought and stared at the cowering woman on the other side of the room. 

“Apologies,” Wednesday said. “I was under the impression that everything in this place is trying to kill me.”

The woman scrambled to her feet, holding her shackled hands up in surrender. “I can tell you that I am not one of them,” she replied.

“That remains to be seen,” Wednesday said. “Who are you?” 

“Valerie Kinbott,” she said.

“Well, Miss. Kinbott, seeing as how the door has not opened and I am in a bit of a rush, I have to kill you.” She pointed Stygius at Valerie, who nearly tripped over her feet in her haste to get away.

“If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not be killed,” Valerie said. “One time was enough.” 

“Then what do you propose we do?” Wednesday replied.

Valerie glanced around the small chamber before rushing over to two crates in the corner. “Let’s talk,” she said. Wednesday blinked as Valerie quickly shoved the crates into the center of the room and sat down. “Come on.”

“You know, I think I’ll just kill you and get it over with,” Wednesday replied. Valerie shook her head.

“You’ll get something out of it, I promise,” she said. “Please, sit.”

Wednesday sighed and sat down on the other crate, ignoring the way her muscles rejoiced at the rest. “Alright, what did you want to talk about?”

Kinbott pulled out a notebook and pen from seemingly nowhere and flicked it open. “Now,” Valerie looked up and her eyes were clear and sharp, with none of the original fear that had been present. “How was your day?”

Wednesday pinched the bridge of her nose. “You’re the therapist mother was talking about, aren’t you?”

Valerie smiled. It suddenly seemed a lot more sinister than before. “Correct!” she exclaimed. Wednesday reached for Stygius and Valerie raised her hand. “As I said before, you will get something at the end of the conversation but only if you can get through it without killing me.”

Wednesday narrowed her eyes. “How do I know you’re being truthful?”

Valerie spread her arms, the shackles on her wrists rattling with the movement, and gestured at her cell. “I have literally nothing to gain from lying to you.”

Wednesday stared at the prisoner for a moment before rolling her eyes. “Alright,” she said. “Ask your questions, I’m sure mother is dying to hear the answers.”

Valerie looked almost offended. “Everything we talk about here will remain confidential.”

Wednesday nodded. “Sure it will.”

“Now, since we’re on the topic,” Valerie said, crossing her legs and getting comfortable on the crate. “How would you describe your relationship with your mother?”

Wednesday folded her hands on her lap and settled in for an absolutely dreadful conversation.

----

Wednesday left Valerie’s chamber feeling more drained than usual. Stygius scraped along the floor, drawing up sparks as she plodded into the next chamber, quietly taking note of the several wretched thugs that floated on the other end of the room. Wednesday slung Aegis out, lifted Stygius up, and charged. Stygius sank into the soft, almost gelatin-like belly of a lout and Wednesday yanked her blade up with one swift movement. The lout groaned before keeling over into a pile of dust just in time for her to catch Aegis. She flung her shield out again and jump-slammed Stygius into the cracking stone floor. Columns collapsed, rocks rained down from the ceiling, and the entire chamber shook. The monsters that had been closing in stumbled and Wednesday took her opportunity to snatch Aegis out of the air and run, full tilt into the side of a thug. 

Slam! Whack! Slice! Clang! Stab! Boom!  

One by one, her enemies crumbled to dust around her and Wednesday wiped the sweat from her brow, scowling at the blood smeared on her hand. 

Still, she would take stabbing louts and body-slamming thugs over a conversation about her crumbling relationship with her mother any day.

Then, a bright bolt of light struck the ground before her before disappearing. In its place was a glass flask with shiny, silvery liquid. It bore an Owl stopper and pulsed faintly with untapped power.

Wednesday looked around before reaching out and grabbing it. It hummed in her palm, growing stronger with each passing second. 

Gifts from the gods were never to be ignored and no matter how badly Wednesday wanted to smash the flask onto the floor, she knew better than to anger the Goddess of Wisdom.

“Alright,” Wednesday said, holding the bottle up. “In the name of Hades, Olympus, I accept this message!”

Then she ripped the stopper out and downed the entire thing in one swig.

The potion flowed down her throat like silky, smooth metal and settled deep into her chest. Wednesday gasped as the flask broke in her hand and a woman with dark skin, and sharp eyes, adorned in golden armor polished so brightly it burned Wednesday’s eyes, carrying a shield and the image of an owl held aloft in her hand appeared before her.

“Lady Athena,” Wednesday said. She dipped her head into a shallow bow.

“I must say, dear cousin,” Athena said, raising a brow. “When Larissa reached out to us on your behalf, we had not expected you to make it so far on your own.”

“I’ve been trained to hold my own in combat,” Wednesday replied stiffly. Athena looked over her, very obviously cataloging her injuries and Wednesday forced herself not to fidget, and instead raised her chin in defiance.

Athena met her eyes once more and nodded. “Fear not,” she said. “With the aid of the Olympians, you will soon be joining us in our halls. Good luck out there, although I know you do not need it.”

Wednesday bowed her head once more. “You honor me, my lady.”

“Come now,” Athena said, gesturing between them. Wednesday felt her limbs steady and strengthen as the heaviness in her chest slowly disappeared. “We are family after all.”

And then, just as quickly as she had come, Athena was gone and Wednesday was alone. 

“Yes,” Wednesday said to the empty air. “Family.”

----

With Athena’s boon steadying her limbs, Wednesday found the next chambers more manageable. She practically flew through them, barely pausing to grab any loot that had fallen from their sorry selves, and soon found herself in her Uncle’s shop.

It looked right at home, in Tartarus. with its cobwebbed corners and dusty floors. Various knick-knacks lined the walls, coated with so much dust that breathing in its general direction was enough to send a cloud of dust sky-high. 

It was perfectly morbid.

“Wednesday!” Uncle Fester exclaimed, spreading his arms wide. Sparks flew through his cloak and she let herself smile. It was a bit maniacal around the edges but her Uncle matched her without hesitation. 

“Uncle Fester,” she said. “Do you have anything in the shop for me?”

He laughed, clapping his hands together and sweeping back the curtain that housed all his trinkets. “You know I do,” he said. 

Wednesday saw rows upon rows of glass vials, wrapped sandwiches, sliced pomegranates, bags with sparkling purple dust, and up on the very top shelf, a row of glowing boons. She could feel the power radiating off of them, could feel them calling to her.

“How much are those?” she asked, pointing at them. Uncle Fester looked up and shook his head. 

“More than you have, unfortunately,” he replied.

Wednesday huffed. “Well then, what can I afford?”

Uncle Fester turned around and planted his hands on his hips, scrutinizing his wares. He swiped three things off the bottom shelf and plopped them into her arms. A wrapped sandwich, sliced pomegranate, and one of those mysterious dust pouches looked up at her. Uncle Fester held out a hand, lighting dancing on the edge of his fingertips and Wednesday slapped her coin purse into his palm.

“What is this purple dust?” she asked as he gleefully counted his coins. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Uncle Fester replied. Wednesday glared at him, tucking the pouch into her belt and biting into the pomegranate slice.

“I would like to know,” she said. “That’s why I’m asking.”

“Look, kid, I just sell the things, I don’t research what they’re for,” he said. “Although, it looks like something Weems would know about. Maybe mention it the next time you see her.”

Wednesday finished the pomegranate and unwrapped the sandwich, taking a healthy bite out of it. It was decent, with a good crunch and a rich taste. Well, at least she knew Uncle Fester sold only quality goods. “I don’t plan on seeing anyone here ever again, so I guess it shall have to remain a mystery, loathe as I am to admit it.”

Uncle Fester chuckled and flipped one of the coins in the air. “Eat up, kid,” he said. “I heard the Fury is spoiling for a fight.”

Wednesday finished her sandwich and brushed her fingers off. “Good,” she said, slinging Aegis into its holster and hefting Stygius onto her shoulder. “I’ll be sure to give her one.”

----

She stepped into the wide chamber with the gates leading to Asphodel within reach. Standing in the center, one arm on her hip and the other loosely gripping a rapier, was Bianca. Wednesday narrowed her eyes. The number of times she had died in this room was too many to count and she watched as Bianca strode forward, heeled boots echoing throughout the chamber.

“Back for more, princess?” Bianca asked, as her wing flared out behind her. Wednesday tilted her head slightly in response, too aware of the many bruises and cuts that littered her body. Bianca’s sword glinted in the green flames, lethal and wickedly sharp.

“Well, when you’ve fought one fury, you’ve fought them all is what they say,” Wednesday said airily. “I don’t suppose you'd let me go without a fight, would you?”

Bianca laughed, tipping her head back. “Not for all the nectar in the underworld,” she replied.

Wednesday smirked as Athena’s blessing curled down her arms. “Good,” she replied, raising Stygius. “I was looking forward to killing you.”

“When will you learn?” Bianca asked, with something akin to pity in her eyes. “There is no escape.”

"And when will you learn that I don't take 'no' for an answer," Wednesday replied.

They held their positions for one tense second before Wednesday charged.

It was a flurry of blows— strikes and parries, with neither of them willing to budge an inch. 

Bianca's blade caught her temple, leaving a thin red gash that periodically dripped blood into Wednesday's eye. 

Wednesday managed to get in a strike before Bianca danced away and reveled in the way the fury was now favoring her left side.

And so it went: blow after blow, and parry after parry, with ranged fireball attacks, courtesy of Bianca and a ricocheting spinning metal disk courtesy of Wednesday.

Wednesday caught Aegis just in time to deflect a fireball headed her way and wasted no time in charging forward, tucking her head and shoulder behind Aegis and slamming into Bianca at a full sprint. 

The fury grunted stumbling back and Wednesday hurled Aegis at her with as much strength as she could muster. Just as the shield left her hand, Wednesday saw a glint of metal flying toward her. Her hand closed around the leather-wrapped handle of Stygius and she swung her blade up in a desperate attempt to block the strike but she was too late. 

The rapier plunged into her heart with such force that Wednesday went down, her back slamming into the stone hard enough to make her ears ring. Bianca pulled the blade out, eliciting a choked gasp, and crouched down. She casually wiped her blade on Wednesday’s chiton and sheathed her sword.

“Better luck next time, Princess,” she sang, fangs glinting in the flickering light. Wednesday growled, attempting to lunge for her neck. Darkness flooded her vision before she could even move her arm.

----