Scott stood shoulder to shoulder with Hades as they flew through the abyssal sky. The chariot was resized to a more mundane nature for the trip, not that it would take long. The speeds at which they could move were well beyond those of simple physics. Though, even with such methods it would take quite some time to arrive in the Norse cohort.

“Helvegr, brother,” said Hades. He pointed to a misty area up ahead that looked no different than any other bit of grey in the landscape.

“Is it?” asked Scott. “It’s too bad that we don’t have a cd player or… a cd.”

“Oh? What song would you have it play?” asked Hades.

“Highway to Hell, of course,” replied Scott in kind.

Hades grunted. “Your share our father’s humor. It is the sort of joke that he might have made.”

Scott chuckled to himself. Hades, in his special little way, had just called him out for making a dad joke.

Helvegr, the road to Hel, land of the dead in Norse mythology. It came upon them in a flash. The world suddenly shifted. They found themselves flying through a sunny region of temperature beauty. Rolling hills and bright green grass greeted them.

Hades took a breath and reveled in it for a moment. Much like his own realm, many parts of Hel were quite oppressive. Yet, there were idyllic places such as this one that gladdened the heart.

Scott looked down and saw a group of people were having what he thought of as a large-scale picnic. In truth, it was a hunting party. In many instances, when people died in worlds run by variations on Nordic belief they would pass to the underworld and simply start new lives there. The people down below did the same. They were carousing and enjoying this pleasant weather in fine company.

The land began to change after a while. It became a barren wasteland, and soon the sound of clashing weapons reached his ears. On the horizon a massive river began to take shape. Yet, this was not a river of water but of clashing weapons and eternal strike.

“We will not bother with the bridge, and I did not see a reason to bring a chicken only to kill it as a means to cross the wall,” said Hades.

Scott nodded, not entirely certain that he could recall why that was important. He did briefly remember some of his old mythological study from his current life, however. “We won’t be taking the gate?”

“That… would be unwise for someone who is still alive. It would be a problem for me, and even more for your current incarnation,” replied Hades.

They flew across the river of clashing steel. A charnel house of ruined bodies ever churned in that river as the clashing weapons continually store at each other. There was indeed a river at the bottom of it all, one of gore and blood.

There was a bridge, one of titanic proportions in fact. Many lost souls wandered across it under the watchful eyes of the biggest damned woman Scott could remember having ever seen. He knew he had seen such things before, but in all honesty the first thing that came to mind was an old B-movie called Attack of the Fifty Foot Woman. The name she bore escaped him for a moment, but just before they passed the bridge a light appeared in his eyes. Móðguðr. Rather, in English her name would have been something like ‘Furious Battler.’

“I… remember her,” said Scott. “I think.”

“As you should. She was one of your people after all,” said Hades. “She took up this position when asked to join your cohort. She’s a subordinate to Hel, and quite friendly in all respects.”

“She has no wings?” he asked Hades.

“No. She is one of your people…” said Hades. Scott did not seem to understand him.

Hades clarified, “You do recall the others? Do you not, brother?”

“Others?” asked Scott.

“The chaos children? Those chaotic souls that followed your path of light through the chaos between realms when you traveled like a blazing star across the face of reality?” asked Hades.

Scott stared at him for a moment. Some of what he had heard sounded vaguely familiar, but he could not place it.

“The giants, titans, the first dragons, faeries? All manner of other primordial beings that chose to stay in this cosmos due to having followed you here?” asked Hades. “The only souls that exist outside the laws of our father?”

A brief glimpse of memory awoke inside his mind. Little skittering creatures that would peek out at him from between the leaves and branches in the garden. There were always a few of them nearby, and they all seemingly loved to watch him as he went about his life but grew nervous and anxious if he noticed them. For the life of him, it felt like being stalked by a well-meaning but love-struck middle school girl. They meant no harm, and followed him everywhere, but were too shy to really communicate most of the time.

Beyond the river a massive battlefield stretched. Corpses littered that field worse than the aftermath of an American protest. It was strange, the fact that such a comparison came readily to his mind, and yet he knew it to be true. Every he looked, death. The land was soaked in red.

Up ahead a gigantic wall appeared, and far below a winding serpent could be seen. It was not a creature, but the multitudes of the dead awaiting their entrance into Hel proper. Some would be sent to life in an idyllic scene like those who caroused in that meadow earlier. Others would become part of the river or field that they had just passed. A precious few might go elsewhere altogether. There was but one true road into Hel, but many avenues once one entered.

They flew over that wall, which admittedly caused a sensation. Who would dare to simply breach the walls of Helheim? The dead looked up, shocked by the occurrence. It was known that even the gods themselves had to wait beyond the wall for the chance to enter the realm. Yet, there was a strange chariot flying by overhead like gaining entrance was nothing.

The world changed suddenly once again. Darkness. Ice. Fear. Despair. It was a cold desolate landscape, and even with the protections of the chariot the wind blew cold enough to freeze the blood in a man’s veins.

“How long?” asked Scott, his teeth chattering.

Though frost rimmed his lips and eyebrows, Hades seemed to pay it no heed. “A few days, even by chariot, brother. Do not worry. You may grow to long for death to release you, but you will not die.”

“M-might lose a few f-fingers and toes, though,” agreed Scott cheerfully.

“Indeed,” said Hades. He cracked his whip and the chariot moved a little faster. Though, in truth it was already moving at its normal highest speed.

What else was there to say? At least they weren’t like the ice sculptures below. Lost souls that froze on the road to Helheim. They would thaw in time and walk forward a short distance, only to freeze once more.