Chapter 6 Learning Curve
“This is pointless,” Persephone said with a huff, failing to follow my instructions for the past several hours on how to divide and guide souls.
I remained slumped on my throne, resting my chin in my palm and pinching the bridge of my nose.
“There is a point, darling, and that is to divide the souls between here and Tartarus so they’re not forever swimming in Styx.
Which, by the way, is getting mightily backed up and will only continue to grow denser. ”
Persephone conjured herself a wooden chair and sat in it with her arms crossed. “It wouldn’t be if you’d help me.”
“How would you learn if I did it all for you?” Pressing my elbows to my knees, I lazily lifted a finger, calling a random soul to float before me.
After focusing on its deep crimson shimmers and scenes from the mortal’s life playing quickly through my mind—cheating, stealing, disrespect toward women—I flicked my hand to the right.
“Eternal damnation in Tartarus.” The wailing soul disappeared, its remaining shimmers trailing through the wind toward Tartarus.
“It’s not as difficult as you make it seem. ”
“I’m a spring goddess, Hades. I was never meant to do this. I don’t know how to make sense of this new magic.” Persephone thrust her hand forward, two souls launching from the river to appear before her. She gasped and froze, staring at me without blinking. “What do I do now?”
“You channel your power just as you would to grow a flower, but target its uses for your new duty as queen.” My wings itched at my back, just as intrigued as I was to see if she could do it this time.
We’d been practicing for half the day, and this was the first time she willed souls from Styx. Progress.
“I don’t know what that means, Hades,” she screeched, panic starting to take over rational thought as she peered at the two patiently waiting souls.
Sighing, I floated to her and stood by her side. “As much as I know how used to being perfection personified you are, this is something new and will take time. Becoming frustrated over it won’t help matters.”
“Easy for you to say, Underworld King.” Persephone thinned her lips, her hand shaking as she attempted to use her new magic.
“Relax, Persephone. Your power can’t manifest if your mind remains clouded by everything else.” I’d lifted my hands to rest them on her shoulders, thinking it’d give her comfort somehow. Recalling how she’d continued to look at me, that the mere sight of me repulsed her, I retreated a breath later.
Growling, she dropped her hand and turned away. “Help them. I can’t do it.”
With two swipes of my hand, it took mere seconds to complete the job. Persephone tore the flower crown from her head and hurled it into the darkness. I lifted my hand, calling it to my awaiting palm before it met the stony cave floors.
“Disrespecting your title won’t help either.” Floating behind her, I held the shimmering crown for her to take by one finger.
She tried to swipe it from me, but I flipped it into my grasp, waiting for her to take it more gently. “I can’t respect something I never wanted. Something that was forced onto me.”
“There’s agreed respect for our elders, our leadership, our opponents.
You make of this title what you will. How would you wish to be revered?
” I held the crown in both hands now, slowly lifting it toward her head to see if she’d let me.
“How do you expect mortals to respect you when you can’t even admire your own crown? ”
Persephone bit the inside of her cheek and tilted her chin down for me to place it atop her hair.
The blonde strands were softer than I could have imagined—like silk and Egyptian cotton.
She didn’t meet my gaze, her shoulders drooping, and that cheery demeanor had almost entirely extinguished from her time in the meadow.
“Let’s try something else.” Whisking my robes, I moved to my throne and sat halfway on it. “You haven’t used your birth-given powers since being down here. Use them. Brighten up the place.”
Persephone’s brows bobbed, and she swiveled on her heel, referencing the gloom around us. “Brighten this place? I’m not sure it can be done.”
Conjuring a fruit bowl, I placed it on the armrest and plucked purple grapes one by one. “If anyone can do it, I do believe it’s you. I could always see if Apollo is free?” I arched a brow at her in challenge.
She responded with a blech sound, followed by scrunching her nose like his name was akin to centaur dung.
Smirking, I held my hand out. “Something we finally agree on.”
Persephone’s chin lifted a little at that.
“Try it, spring goddess. Use your magic.” I held my arms out to my sides.
Persephone stretched her fingers before surveying her Underworld canvas.
Swirling petals and shimmering dust floated from her fingertips, traveling to all corners of the cave.
Various flowers ranging in vibrant colors from white to pink to red sprouted in clusters, bordering the archways and corners.
As she continued, a warmth returned to her face, and the flowers became increasingly darker to pattern with the lighter ones—deep purple, dark blue, and burgundy.
She finished by sending a cascade of glittering magic, coating each flower, and turned toward me for what seemed like—was it—approval?
Floating to meet her, I did several turns, admiring her handiwork.
I scraped my black claws over the petals of a flower, which appeared purple from one angle and blue in another, and decided these were my favorites, followed quickly by the burgundy.
“Lovely work. I wish I could say it could all stay, but the Underworld isn’t supposed to be everyone’s comfort upon their arrival. ”
Persephone frowned and lifted her hand as if she were already about to destroy them.
I lifted a finger to halt her and pointed at my favorite bunches. “Save these for me, would you? I wish to put them in a vase for my quarters.”
“Really?” She asked, her voice gaining an octave.
“You sound surprised.”
Persephone used her power to diminish most of the flower arrangements but held two bunches in her hand, saving them. “I guess I am. I’ve never made flowers, and this place—” She paused, catching my gaze. “—or its king synonymous with each other.”
“Who could blame you? It’s simply the same mistake almost everyone else makes.” Shrugging, I swirled my hands, producing an onyx vase for her to set the flowers in.
“You said not everyone deserves to be comforted. Were you referring to those condemned to Tartarus?” Persephone positioned the flowers in a perfect arrangement within the vase.
“Yes.”
She cradled brighter flowers in the crook of her arm and surveyed the cave. “What about those who deserve the polar opposite? Those that have lived a good life, a great life?”
Intrigue had my chest fluttering. After making the vase disappear to my quarters, I crossed my arms. “I’m listening.”
“A meadow. Where it’s eternal spring for them to live out the rest of their lives in peace and sunshine.” Persephone gulped as if she were afraid of what my reaction would be.
Nodding, I flicked a piece of ash from my shoulder. “If I gave you a realm, would you create it? Oversee it?”
Her eyes lit up for the first time since she’d been down here, I dared say even more than when I told her she’d be able to go back to the surface. “Yes,” she whispered.
“Done.”
She fast blinked and pressed a hand to her chest. “Done? Just like that?”
“Just like that. I think you’ll come to realize, Persephone, that the less you combat me, the more comfortable you’ll be down here.
” The ember wings peeked out of their own accord, and I didn’t stop them because the spark igniting in Persephone’s gaze made me never want to put them away again.
“It’s been a long day. Why don’t you get some rest? ”
“Don’t you ever sleep?” She grazed a finger over a white rose’s petals.
Stepping aside and ushering her toward the corridors, I hovered a hand at the small of her back, but didn’t touch her. “When time allows.”
Persephone opened her door, but paused before entering. “Thank you,” she whispered, the tiniest of smiles edging the corner of her lips.
It was a subtle expression, but still enough to give me hesitant hope that we might learn to be cordial toward each other in the years to come.
Next story in the The Hades Chronicles:
QUEEN OF THE UNDERWORLD