Chapter 12 Hades
Hades
In the Underworld, the souls are caught in faded white streaks across the dark sky.
Their passings are slower now, leaving only smaller groups behind, and then individual souls.
One here, then a pause, and then another.
The deaths have slowed and those that appear have arrived with more peace than before.
The heartache has softened. Although the stench of fear is ever present in some, there is a sense of normalcy. Of what used to be returning.
There’s a churning in my stomach of slight regret but also of the unknown. The doubt seeps in.
I watch from one of the arched stone windows of my chambers, Minox at my side and Cerberus laid on the floor on my other side.
Demeter has changed something. We must listen to the whispers.
To the prayers that are ever-changing. The gods can rarely hide from one another, for the mortals' prayers come from truth and often desperation.
Cerberus sits up, sensing that something has changed. Perhaps it is the silence that Cerberus notices. The screams and cries have settled. He barks, once, and I pat each of his heads duly and with a soothing hush.
Through the eyes of my disciples and demons alike, I can visualize the mortal realm.
At times, it’s as if I’m there. It is easiest when scrying, just as it is easiest to see Olympus when scrying.
But occasionally I can see into the souls who are passing or those who are close to doing so.
I can see the images they hold in their minds, vivid with the colors of the mortal world.
And what I see—
What I see are families huddled together, peering out the windows of their homes. Standing up from where they had been crouched underneath the sills. They are pointing. Smiling. Saying look.
What are they looking at?
They are looking at the coming of life. Of greenery on crops that had withered. They see hope and are thankful. They imagine abundance and no longer starvation and crisis. They feel hope. They weep with gratitude.
The ice and snow and fiery storms brought by the demons are fading, and everywhere there is green.
Swallowing thickly, I bring my vision back to the Underworld and meet Minox’s gaze.
His eyes have centuries of familiarity to me. Minox has been at my side since the moment I arrived in the Underworld.
“That is the work of my wife.” My tone is even although turmoil is present.
Another glance at the sky. Minox will want to know if the lull in the souls is only temporary or if it is permanent. Nothing is ever permanent, but this lull is because of Persephone. I know it in the essence of my soul.
We both stare above us into the sea of souls. For a while, not a single soul crosses to the Underworld. Then one soul, very small, flies overhead like a shooting star. It’s graceful as it floats down to the river, disappearing from sight just before it arrives.
“She could never do that while she was here,” I tell Minox as I reminisce.
“What could she not do, my Lord?” he questions, his brow furrowed. As if he does not know. Genuinely so. How could he not?
“She could not bring new life to the earth…she could not even do it here. The Underworld only invites the dead.” There is a hollow feeling in my chest. It aches, like it is begging to be filled.
I miss her dearly. My beloved. Persephone does not need to bring souls to the Underworld, that is not for her to do, and she could not, but I know how much she wanted her magic to follow her here.
“She could not ask life to flourish and start anew. Not in our realm.”
Minox nods slowly, understanding. He parts his lips to speak but visibly refrains.
I cannot make the argument that those who dwell in the mortal realm do not need my queen to provide for them.
They do. They need new life and renewal.
They need a harvest that is not struck down by disaster.
They need bounty and abundance. Which Demeter can provide, but they also need new life.
New hope. She serves a beautiful purpose to those in the mortal realm.
Yet those who dwell in the mortal realm are not the only souls in existence.
“She is needed here,” I state, keeping my voice level. “There is chaos in my realms, and they pray to her as much as they pray to me.”
Minox’s gaze falls to my face, and I look back at him. Though he stands still, his robes still move from the slight breeze. With it, the ash drifts against the stone wall, reminding me of my recent deeds.
His expression reveals nothing to me. I cannot tell what he is thinking. I only know that he is thinking, because Minox is always thinking. He’s always calculating.
I do not know what my expression shows him.
His eyes move over my features. Perhaps my face is showing him that I know what it is that he knows.
The chaos in my realms is not only the fault of Demeter.
I have caused chaos here. I have torn souls apart.
I have shaken the foundations of the Underworld.
I have sent souls scrambling for places to hide.
For a time, they were silent as the ashes fell. None of them wanted to draw my attention. They feared it. The depth of their terror was felt in silence.
Now, not all of the souls are silent. Some of them have come out of hiding, and they’re fighting among themselves.
On what has caused this and the threat of war.
They argue on who is to blame. This fighting only brings more uncertainty.
It only leads to more fighting. More arguing.
Soul against soul. It may spread to realm against realm, and then there will be even greater chaos.
The sooner she is returned to me and this is ended, the more peace there will be.
In my chest there is a deep ache for her.
An impatience that I cannot shake. There were times when I was imprisoned that I felt this way—as if I would lose my mind if I did not have a chance to move, to stretch, to claw at the walls.
It was never worth it to spend the energy on those attempts.
It only made me more frenzied. It only made me more desperate to get out, and desperation made the hours stretch out into centuries.
“Persephone is needed here now more than ever.”
“That may be,” Minox says and peers out the window, avoiding my gaze. There’s no chaos in my gardens as of yet. The areas of the Underworld closest to my home will be the last to fall, as the souls will try to stay out of my sight until they cannot do it anymore.
We stand in silence. Cerberus gets to his feet and pads in a circle around the room, sniffing every so often at the ash and stopping to listen occasionally. He must decide everything is as it should be, because he returns to my side.
“That may be?” I question, not looking at Minox.
“I know our queen is needed here, my Lord.” He emphasizes the word and replies quickly.
“But?” I urge him to continue.
Minox unfolds his hands, then refolds them.
“Demeter says that she will bring death again if you take her back. She is willing to stop now that Persephone has returned, although there was no punishment for her abduction. She suspects Zeus played a part. Her anger has dimmed but only because she has not received a consequence for her reaction either.”
The impatience inside of me heats until it has the form of rage once again, then irritation, then disgust.
Demeter would bring death again. Demeter would ruin the harvests in the mortal realm so that thousands starve and die a most painful death.
The selfish goddess will not feel her loss alone.
Demeter would burn the silos where grain was kept.
Demeter would turn the mortals against each other in wars for food and water.
Demeter would make the sky above the Underworld bright with souls.
Demeter would send so many that they would overwhelm the rituals in place that keep judgments fair and swift.
Demeter would make my realms too full of souls, too crowded, too uncertain.
It will crumble. It will fall apart. And Persephone would not be able to take those souls back to the mortal realm… not while she’s beside me.
Demeter would do all that—to the mortals—because I had gotten what I wanted.
What I need.
Demeter will not stop there. She will bring all the realms down on one another. There’s only so much death she can bring to the mortal realm before there will be no one left. Souls cannot leave the Underworld, and they are trapped here for all eternity. There will be no rest.
When all the mortals are dead, the Underworld will die, too. It will stagnate.
And so will Olympus. Has Demeter thought of that yet?
The souls in the Underworld do not pray to the gods and goddesses on Olympus.
They do not need Persephone to bring them life because no life dwells here.
They do not need Demeter to bring another harvest to the land because the Underworld has all abundance.
What will the gods and goddesses on Olympus do if no one prays to them? What entertainment will they have if they cannot influence the mortal world with their whims? If there is no one left to light candles at their altars…what will their purpose be?
Perhaps Minox suggests that I could save all these realms by giving up my rights to Persephone.
That cannot happen. Persephone has eaten the pomegranate seeds—I have a claim to her. It was accepted by her. She put the seeds in her mouth and ate them before my eyes.
And she is my queen. She has sat next to me at court and judged souls. This was no secret to her reign and entitlement. The souls here know that Persephone is their queen as well as mine.
Give up my claim to her? Never. Give up being able to see her face and touch her and kiss her? Never. To have her in any and every way she pleases… We have yet to discover how many ways I can send lustful chills down her gorgeous curves. There is so much more between us.
It’s too late, since Zeus has agreed to send her to me.
Would Demeter give up her own life? Would Zeus give up his power? Neither of them would do such a thing, so it is ridiculous that they would expect me to give up Persephone. She is more than my life and more than my power. More than anything else that exists.
She is mine.
Once again, I meet Minox’s gaze and his expression shows nothing.
I’m not the one who has gone back on my word. I am not the villain for insisting that Zeus stands by his promise to me.
I’m not the villain for using everything in my power to enforce the agreement. Zeus was barely thinking when he spoke to me. All he wanted was to relieve his own fears of his offspring’s magic becoming more powerful than his own.
Zeus did not want his daughter to surpass him. Zeus did not see that she had already surpassed him by existing in his realm. Here, she is no threat to him. More powerful or not, she is no concern to him.
Persephone has accepted her role as queen. She has eaten the pomegranate seeds. She has slept in my bed and kissed me with passion that cannot be undone and opened herself to me so completely that we will be bonded together forever no matter where she goes.
And I will stop at nothing for her.
My love will always be greater than my anger, but that is not all. My love will always be greater than anyone’s vengeance.
Zeus’s.
Demeter’s.
All the gods and goddesses on Olympus. All the mortals in the mortal realm and all the souls in the Underworld. All of their anger combined could not outweigh my love and need for her. They’d have to destroy my very soul before I relented.
The sooner Demeter recognizes she will not force me to let Persephone go, the better. The sooner Zeus understands that he cannot give his word without meaning it, the better.
The sooner all this violence will end, and balance can return to the realms.
If they choose not to see it? That is their choice, I suppose. They can remain cut off from the truth if that is what they desire, but it will not bring them peace.
I glance at the door, but Persephone is not there. Not yet.
“If Demeter says she will bring death again,” I say finally, looking directly into Minox’s eyes, “then death shall come again.”