15. Gianni
Chapter 15
Gianni
The darkness envelops me like a suffocating shroud. I trudge aimlessly through the barren underworld, the icy chill seeping into my bones. There are no stars to light my way, no moon to pierce the deep, dark night. Just endless space stretching as far as the eye can see. It is desolate and hopeless.
The fog swirls around me as I walk, clutching the worn map tightly. Its edges are frayed from my grip, but still, it guides me toward the river Lethe. That winding ribbon of water is my only hope of reaching the palace.
I know the risks. One sip of Lethe’s waters and oblivion will embrace me. Every memory burned away. My entire being is lost. I would, in every sense, cease to exist. As soon as the thought crossed my mind, an overwhelming thirst came over me, getting stronger with each step I took.
Just then, a shimmering catches my eye in the distance. Could it be? I squint, trying to make out the source through the oppressive darkness. A river, perhaps? My heart leaps at the possibility.
The cold bites through my suit, but I barely feel it. Fatigue drags at my bones, but I push it down and walk on, following the path laid out on the map. Each step takes me closer to Lethe’s shimmering expanse. There, the true test awaits.
The river comes into view, its dark waters glimmering with allure.
"This is it," I mutter, my voice barely audible even to myself. "The only way to Hades' palace is across this river."
I hesitate at the edge, peering into its depths. My throat felt like fresh sandpaper, begging to be relieved with liquid. Just one sip…But the price is forgetting her. The way she'd pin her hair back with that simple silver clasp, how she’d always buy a small present for every member of the household, that time she picked up a stray dog and insisted we keep it.
Those memories make my life what it is.
Forgetting her can’t happen. Hell or high water, tonight, I must not drink.
"I should've known you'd find a way to make me chase you even in death, amore mio," I chuckle darkly, the sound echoing in the emptiness around me.
I step towards the river. The silvery surface ripples invitingly, whispering promises of no pain. After all, what is pain, if not a bank of all that went wrong while one got to where they are? The temptation to forget the pain, the loss of ever watching Genoveva die, claws at me like a rabid animal, and I’m not even in the river yet.
"Merda," I hiss, clenching my fists. "You're a tricky bastard, aren't you?"
"Don't you dare, Gianni," I can almost hear her scolding me in my head. "You promised me forever, remember?"
I chuckle darkly, shaking my head. "Even in death, you're still bossing me around, amore."
I take a deep breath, steeling myself. Then, I plunge into the icy water with a gasp. It envelops me, so cold it burns—the current tugs at my limbs, whispering wordless promises of solace in forgetfulness.
"Forget," it seems to say. "Let go of your burdens, your regrets."
But I kick against it, fighting to stay afloat.
My muscles scream in protest as I push through the relentless current. Each stroke feels like I'm swimming through molasses, the river's pull growing stronger with every passing moment. My lungs burn, desperate for air, but I can't risk opening my mouth—not here, not now.
"Genoveva," I think, gritting my teeth against the exhaustion. "Remember our wedding night, the way you looked at me under the stars. The promises we made."
The memory flickers, fragile as gossamer. My parched throat constricts, every cell in my body crying out for relief. Just one sip. One tiny taste. What harm could it do?
"No!" I growl internally, pushing the thought away. Focus! You're not some weakling to be broken by a damn river.
I force my eyes open, the inky waters blurring my vision. The current whispers seductively, its voice reminiscent of the Furies' taunts. Let go, Gianni. Forget the pain, the responsibility. Be free.
My heartbeat thunders in my ears, a defiant rhythm against the river's siren song. I cling to that sound, using it to drown out the temptation. Each pulse is a reminder of who I am and why I'm here.
The water seems to fight back harder as if sensing my fight. My thoughts start to blur, memories slipping like sand through my fingers. I can't... I can't remember the color of Genoveva's eyes. Were they hazel? Or...
"No!" I roar internally, forcing myself to focus. I run through every color until I remember hers—green, blue, black… hazel. Genoveva’s hazel eyes.
The water laps at my lips, a cruel temptress. My tongue, swollen and dry, aches for just a taste. I imagine the sweet relief, cool liquid sliding down my throat, quenching this infernal thirst. But the price...
I clasp my mouth shut, so even if I wanted to, no drop can enter.
I push forward, my arms feeling like lead. The river stretches endlessly, a shimmering expanse of oblivion. How long have I been swimming? Minutes? Hours? Time loses all meaning here.
My mind drifts, seeking refuge from the river's relentless pull. Suddenly, I'm back in Sicily, the warm breeze carrying the scent of jasmine. Genoveva stands before me, radiant in white lace.
"I, Gianni, take you, Genoveva..."
The memory wraps around me like a shield. I can almost feel the weight of her hands in mine, see the love shining in those hazel eyes.
"...to have and to hold, from this day forward..."
My strokes become more purposeful, syncing with the rhythm of those long-ago vows—each word a lifeline, anchoring me against the river's insidious pull.
"For better, for worse..." I mutter, tasting salt on my lips – sweat or tears, I can't tell which. "For richer, for poorer..."
The current fight me, but I fight harder for the life we swore to build together.
"Till death do us part."
Suddenly, my foot strikes something solid. Riverbed. I've reached the other side. With my last ounce of strength, I drag myself onto the shore, collapsing onto my hands and knees among the jagged rocks.
I kneel there, gasping for breath. My sodden clothes cling to me. Every muscle in my body trembles, screaming in protest at the ordeal I've just endured. But I made it. I didn't drink.
After a moment, I force myself to stand on shaky legs. I survey my bleak surroundings. The cavern walls loom high above me, dark and foreboding. Twisted shapes seem to writhe in the shadows.
The landscape before me is a nightmare made real. Jagged rocks pierce a blood-red sky, and in the distance, I hear screams that make my blood run cold.
"At last," I mutter, pushing myself to my knees. "Hades Palace."