Firefly Glen purple blue orange red

It was odd hearing Charon’s name used in a tale of mystic realms and spirits. And the beliefs themselves seemed odd to him as well, he’d never heard of such an idea, but it was very interesting. Where he came from on the plains, it was tradition for the bodies of the dead to be covered in flowers, or in the case of a winter departure juniper berries, and then buried. Their bodies went back to the earth, and their spirits were reborn as something new. The flowers and berries were to aid in the process of the spirit leaving the body, and finding a new vessel.

Come to think of it though, his family’s legends were sort of outlandish as well, but they had always seemed so natural to him. That was the way of tradition, everyone is used to their own, and can only see the strangeness of it once they’ve lived another.

He chuckled at her little joke, and his eyebrows raised when she mentioned going to the next deity. Seemed like a long process these Greeks had mapped out, and very complicated. Then she paused in her word weaving, to ask for questions. He smiled and shook his head, I got it so far I think, Charon’s two timing as an underworld tour guide, he joked, chuckling at his own witty remark.