Story 164: The Ferryman’s Journey

In a land where the sun rarely shone and the skies were perpetually overcast, there was a river that wound its way through the heart of a forgotten forest. This river was known as the Styx, and it was said to be the boundary between the world of the living and the realm of the dead.

On this river, an old, weathered boat drifted silently. Its sole occupant was a solitary figure shrouded in a black cloak, known only as the Ferryman. His face was hidden beneath the hood, and his eyes, if they could be seen, would reveal centuries of wisdom and sorrow.

The Ferryman’s task was simple yet eternal: to ferry souls across the river to their final resting place. Each day, he would guide his boat through the mist, collecting those who had passed from the world of the living. The souls, mere shadows of their former selves, would sit silently in the boat, their eyes reflecting the journey they had taken.