Ferryman

DISCLAIMER: Danmachi belongs to its respective owners. This story is a fan-made depiction of a fan what-if route of the original work and the characters in it abide by the fictional laws in the setting.

Story Commissioned by a patr'on duo.


[Chapter 3] Quaestio et Responsa

Part 3

"Ah, I'm really back?"

He who should be dead exclaimed from the medical bed where he'd been laid to rest for what should've been forever, yet here he awakened —discarding the beddings covering the nakedness beneath.

Bell knew he shouldn't be here, in the living world, but he'd been given a chance to rewrite where he went wrong —Had he done wrong, though? He questioned his thoughts while looking at the questionable state of his living self.

His body was the same as he remembered: lighter-toned yet burnt skin, muscles developed from working the fields and herding livestock, and height that matched his seventeen-year-old age.

Everything was the same except for one place, the one where he'd been struck.

Below his ribcage, circling his whole midsection, was the mark where his body and soul were forever separated.

Ugly wouldn't even come close to describing how bad it looked —even a rabid dog's mauling of muscles and bones would've looked far better than the dark and jagged, black, and blue, mess present around his entire stomach and back.

But he couldn't stare at himself for long, not because of the messy sight but because—

"KYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

Someone stumbled upon the miracle that the living world no longer accepted.

A dead man who'd risen from his deathbed, one of boundless vitality that it left to be questioned whether he'd been in the afterlife in the first place.

Not even the discarded beddings covering his lower body stopped Bell from feeling embarrassed, mostly because he was still riding the spiritual high of having laid claim to his new Goddess until she'd reinvigorated him with life.

"I can explain?"

He could, obviously, but whether the horrified woman of silver hair would accept his explanation or even listen to it was another matter to attend.

His matter to attend to, to be precise.

Sadly, the holy woman was far more precise with the bucket that she pulled from Gods knows where—

THUNK

Comfortable beddings became hardened wood, and sewn wounds almost tore open, as the bucket nailed Bell on the side and sent him flying into the medical curtain, the shelf behind it, until he stopped when he impacted the wall.

He was reminded, again, of his mortality as the pain assaulted every living part of his body when it came to a stop —surely, pain was good because it meant he was alive… though Bell really, really wished there'd been a better way to verify his dubious existence.

"Oh Gods, I'm sorry!" The woman yelled, then paused as Bell recovered and manage to creak one eye open only to see her exercise her lungs again, "Never mind that, HOW are you alive!?"

"Mh kun ehplaim." Bell murmured, his voice muffled by the floor pressing against his face, and chest constricted by the fallen sheets.

He would explain, but only after he'd gotten back on his feet —clutching the beddings to try and hide what little modesty he had left intact.

Not that the silver-haired maiden hadn't seen it all already, as she'd been the one to tend to his injuries —or rather, the one to pronounce him death after the amazons brought him to her Familia's clinic.

Regardless of the past, and how he shouldn't be walking around his assigned room in search for something to wear before they talked, the silver-haired maiden prepared a space for the two to sit down and speak without interruptions.

In the end, Bell could only find his tattered underwear and cloth pants that had seen better days to cover himself.

His upper body remained bare, and under the clear scrutiny of the silver-haired maiden whose eyes never left her gaze, to the paint that her unflinching stare of his grievous and sewn scar made Bell feel uncomfortable.

"Um…"

"Explain. Now."


- 0 - Ferryman - 0 -


"So," The silver-haired maiden whose name he didn't know yet twitched in her seat as she spoke, "You mean to tell me that some Goddess of Death denied your death?"

"Essentially," Bell, who sat opposite the maiden replied, and added a lackluster, "Yes…"

He didn't expect how the silver-haired maiden would react, at all.

THUNK

But she quickly gave him a strong sense of Déjà vu, except he was on the receiving end of the hit, and also given him a new bump to nurse on his forehead.

"What was that for!?" Bell blurted out.

"Habit of force." She replied, almost glaring at him.

"Don't you mean force of habit!?" Bell grumped as he nursed his head —For someone so small, the silver-haired maiden really packed a punch.

"No." She replied before she nursed her own forehead too, doing so for a second before pinching her nose and taking a deep breath through her mouth. "As absurd as your explanation sounds, I can't help but accept it seeing as there's no other way to explain how you're alive after seeing the condition you were brought in."

Bell blinked, taken aback. "I thought you would ask more questions before you believed me." Though, he really wished she didn't since he didn't want to explain the finer details of how exactly Anput had returned him to the mortal plane.

She shook her head, locks of silver dancing in place. "It is you who does not understand in what kind of terrible condition you were brought in."

Bell grazed the scar on his stomach, only now feeling something akin to threads at the center. "I can imagine. I remember seeing my lower half a few feet away from me before my vision went fully dark."

Everything past that moment was blurry, even during the time Bell spent in the afterlife reviewing said moment.

"If only that had been all." The silver-haired maiden sighed, a palpable wave of exhaustion emanating from her. "Your death should've been immediate, perhaps taking five seconds at most before you passed away but… you remained alive for longer than should've been possible due to the exact conditions of how you were injured."

Bell didn't even need to be in the silver-haired maiden's shoes to feel how apprehensive she was of what she would explain to him.

"The conditions were…?"

She closed her eyes and started reciting his conditions in a clinical tone as if a different person had taken over her body.

"When the monster attacked you, it had also crushed the Health Potions in your bag —some of which were of far higher quality than that which can be found in the market— and the only reason you lost consciousness was due to the shock of your devastating injury."

That wasn't so bad—

"The liquid of those potions coated the upper part of your body, precisely where you'd been split apart. Thus, the Potions were replenishing the blood you were losing at an even rate and allowed for you to remain alive, albeit barely, and for your brain to continue sending signals to your body to the point that the adventurers who brought you here believed you could still be saved since…"

That was certainly not what he expected.

"Your upper body kept moving and talking for some time. After that, I—"

"—Wait, stop." Bell reached over the table to squeeze the silver-haired maiden's arm, causing her to stop and bringing her out of that clinical persona she had seconds ago. "You said adventurers brought me here? No, hold on. Can we please go over the details of what happened from my perspective first before you continue were you left off?"

She nodded, not seeming to mind that his hand remained on her shoulder. "Very well. How did you die?"

Blunt, but this topic needn't sugarcoating —Bell appreciated that from the silver-haired maiden.

He retracted his hand and interlaced his fingers over the table as he recounted what he remembered, "I bought some equipment from the Guild in the morning and went to test it at the Dungeon. I managed to reach the third floor when I found a group of adventurers who had gotten separated from their main party because they were ambushed by…"

A knot formed on Bell's throat as the minotaur's glowing red eyes flashed in his mind.

The silver-haired maiden picked up on his hesitance and continued, as she knew the story from there -somewhat, "Their main group was ambushed by a herd of minotaurs who'd escaped from other adventurers in the lower floors, and one of those minotaurs followed after the group that got separated, which is the one you found."

Bell nodded, still not trusting his voice to come out without cracking.

"You, in an incredibly reckless, foolish, idiotic, and imbecile gamble thought that you would be able to buy time for this small group and told them to run —is the words used by the one who brought you in. Is this true?"

Not exactly the words he expected to hear from the silver-haired maiden's mouth, but she was right. "Yes, it is true."

She nodded, not in the least happy to confirm such details. "Your recklessness and subsequent death did indeed pay off because you bought them barely enough time to meet up with their main party, which got rid of the rampaging monster that took your life." She tapped one nail against the table, "Three adventurers of this same group were the ones to bring you to me in the hopes that I would be able to heal you, but…"

Somehow, Bell felt far more comfortable discussing his death rather than the monster who caused it.

"How long was I dead?"

"One day."

"Huh?"

"One night, to be more exact."

It was at that moment that Bell finally understood where the exhaustion in the silver-haired maiden's voice was coming from, along with really looking at her face and seeing the dark circles beneath her eyelids.

"To be precise, you were brought here approximately seven hours ago." She rubbed her forehead, tiredly. "I pronounced you dead after the first hour of your treatment, so you were six hours dead by my medical standards."

"Oh."

"As far as the public is concerned, you're officially dead." The silver-haired maiden continued to rub her forehead, almost painfully so. "How am I going to explain this…"

"Couldn't you just say that I got better overnight?" Bell tried to be helpful, but—

THUNK

"Gah!"

"I was seen sewing your unmoving body together!" She yelled at him, "I emptied my Mana four times, FOUR TIMES, with my strongest healing spell while trying to resuscitate you." She sat back down, her ire almost spent. "I even fed you an elixir that one of those amazons was carrying to no avail…"

Bell awkwardly shifted in his seat, nursing the newly made bump on his head. "Sorry… And, for what it's worth, thank you for trying so hard…"

Thankfully, those words seemed to diffuse the remaining ire of the silver-haired maiden.

"Haaa…" She slumped forward, her pristine robe crinkling to accommodate her upper body's weights against the table. "I can't even say this was a miracle. How do I… maybe if… no, that won't work… how about…"

Bell couldn't do anything but keep on staring at the woman who'd (tried and failed) to heal him as she came up with excuses on her own, and discarded those just as fast.

Mine half, explain of thyself to the Half-Saint .

A shiver went up Bell's spine upon the voice of his Goddess echoing in his mind —He looked around, alarmed, but found her nowhere. Then, as if his Goddess had whacked him on the head, her words repeated in his mind a second time.

The urge to smack Anput back was strong since her advice wasn't helpful at all— What was he supposed to explain about himself that would help— Oh.

"Say, Miss…" Bell reached for the healer again, squeezing her shoulder to gain her attention. "If it helps, I've only been in Orario for… two days, at most. I have no family here, nor did I join any Familia, and the only one whom I've spoken with at length are the Advisor at the Guild and as for those who've seen my face, it would be those in that adventurer group alone."

The silver-haired maiden eyes shone brighter with every word Bell added, until she was seemingly beaming.

"I can salvage this." She muttered, "The only people who know of your death as of now would be those amazons, as long as you don't actively seek them out then… No, but I would also have to tell the Guild about you because they will most likely report your death there…"

"Then, if we report that I didn't actually die before they do…?"

She nodded, "It will raise concerns, and I might be questioned, but it is better than letting the world know that a Goddess has defied the natural cycle of mortal life and turned you into a target of investigation, or worse, dissection."

Bell blinked, not having even thought that far about what Anput had really done for him —to him.

"As for you." She immediately continued, "What will you do with yourself?"

Blunt, very —To the point that he didn't understand her question.

"Huh?"

"You are 'alive' and will be considered 'alive', but what then? Any Familia you try to join will question you at length —The Gods and Goddesses will notice the tampering of your soul, and without a Familia and the Gods' blessing, your growth will be so ridiculously slow that you may never get past the fifth floor and earn enough to make a living."

So extremely blunt, and to the point.

"Even if you were to make a living without a blessing, your existence would raise concerns. If you don't join a Familia but explore the dungeon, you will be questioned as to why not by everyone and if you don't join a Familia and never set foot in the dungeon again, then you will also be questioned less so, but you will live in hiding from the Gods."

So much information that he did not have at his disposal.

"Are you willing to live a life in such obscurity? With such obstacles with every step that you take? Would that even be a life that you can call 'life'?"

So much thought put into a future that should have not been —his future.

When did this woman even have the time to think all of that!?

He'd been a fool to think that just by Anput returning him to the mortal world then everything else would work in his favor!

Life was not fair; he'd learnt that firsthand at the hands of that Minotaur!

"Tell me, what will you do with —for yourself?"

Did he even have an answer for her?

For himself?


- 0 - Ferryman - 0 -


His future: fogbound once again, for not even Bell knew what to do next.

Airmid, as he learned to be the name of the silver-haired maiden, did not provide him with an answer or even help him attain one.

Even her saint-like behavior of helping others did not extend to the point of acting as a guide for lost lambs, which Bell very much had become.

Yet she was kind, far kinder than he'd ever expected someone could be —especially under his circumstances.

He could not stay in the clinic as his presence would disrupt the workflow of Airmid's Familia, quite greatly if he might add.

Thus, he had nowhere to go, nowhere to return to —If Airmid had decided on kicking him out of the clinic to make her life easier, there was nothing he could do.

But he hadn't been chased away.

He failed to understand why. At no point had he done more than annoy the silver-haired half-saint with his answers, his questions, or his dubious existence itself, yet she—

"Wear these." Airmid dumped a stack of clothes on his lap, "The nights are colder during this time of the year, and I have no spare bed where you can rest, so you'll have to brave the icy night in the living room with these alone."

—She gave him a place to rest, not only for the night, but for as long as he needed until he came up with an answer, the answer, as to what he would do.

"If there's something you need, my room is the only one upstairs. I am a light sleeper so with a few knocks I'll respond." Airmid fixed the collarbone of her pajamas —the frills being the only thing to give some flair to the simple white cloth. "Rest. I'm sure your mind and body need it, regardless of what happened to you in the afterlife."

She left him to his own devices in her home's living room, yet he didn't intend to snoop around the place at all.

He hadn't even taken the time to look anywhere but at his feet, pondering the question he was given, while Airmid had dragged him to her home.

Only now that he was lonely, sitting on a small couch meant for two people at most, did Bell truly bring himself to care about his surroundings.

It was all gray, as if the silver-haired maiden had painted her house with a vibrant white once in the distant past and then let the paint erode away.

Not even the streetlights' shine coming from the small windows gave any semblance that someone lived in this place —bare and desolate as it was.

If, and only if, there ever was a reason as to why Airmid had let him stay in her house then it would be just so someone can take care of the place that seemingly nobody had lived within in ages—He snorted at that thought.

Was there a reason why Airmid's home had become so unhospitable?

Did she never become tired of returning to something so… sad?

"Are you awake?"

Bell flinched; his eyes swiveled sidewards and found his vision blocked by a waterfall of dull gray.

"Couldn't sleep either?" Anput stood by his side, smiling as lovely and deadly as he recalled. "Or did I wake you up?"

He found it easier to stare at her after their first time, and his voice came out faster than last time, "I couldn't sleep."

Anput sat on his stomach, facing away from him, before turning her upper body to look down at him. "What troubles you?"

"Were you aware of what would happen to me once you gave me life back?"

"Of course." Her palm met his cheek, caressing it gently. "I say this is but a small price to pay for your mortality, no?"

He wanted to be angry, he really did —but no sparks of ire were lit by her response, at all.

It was his decision, after all.

Anput had granted him his wish to return to the mortal world when he could've wished to stay by her side, and inside her for eternity if she wished, or he could've wished to move on and be dead, forever. It would be selfish of him to be angered by obtaining what he wanted.

"Besides, you would've come to the mortal world in time." Anput laid her small yet shapely body on top of his, almost like a cat laying on its owner. "With our wedding complete and vows traded, you're in my service. Thus, I would have eventually sent you here to collect souls."

So, even then, he would've still been faced with the same problems and the same question that Airmid asked him. The answer would've been clearer, but no the less hard to obtain.

"Speaking of our wedding, mine half…" Anput's irises glowed in the dark, a sinister shine accompanied by a smile that rung alarms. "I can't help but notice that you've followed every order of the Half-Saint like an obedient little puppy…"

Bell, momentarily, forgot all about searching for an answer or whatnot.

There was a more pressing matter to attend, one that was pressing her whole body down on him —nails first.

"I can explain."

"I certainly hope so, mine half."


- 0 - Chapter 3 End - 0 -


Author's Note: This part of the story has changed quite a bit and more times than I can count from original draft due to my own decision on when, and how, to introduce characters but I feel this is the one that best fits what both the commissioners and I want.

It is shorter than other regular updates but its mostly because of the writing style used. I think readers will pick up on it rather easily, lol.

- Jas / Shiiva

P.S: Next chapter for this story (and all others, including new ones) are being proofread(and edited) by myself so they'll be uploaded as soon as each one's done, so look forward to that.