Persephone
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One letter turned into two, and two letters turned into four. They wrote for weeks, and as those weeks turned into months, Hades began to feel that he could not live without her writing. She told him about Olive, how she had longed to know her father, her hopes, and fears.
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I sometimes feel that I am living a half-life, safely hidden from those who wish me harm, but is that how one is meant to live? I long to roam, to be free to see every tree, swim in every river and get to know every badger. Yes, badgers! I wonder how long I will sacrifice my freedom for my safety? I feel like a bird who has never been allowed to fly. And is it worth the cost? I think of how my father loved my mother, despite the risk to himself. Love is worth the danger, I think. Think of Eros and his lover, I believe that someday they will find their way back to one another. Their story is sad, but underneath it all, is hope. Hope that they will somehow move past all the obstacles that keep them apart. Hope. What this word has come to mean to me. Hope that tomorrow I will find the life I dream of. How dreary my thoughts are, I find they turn darker as the sun drops from the sky. Olive is currently laying his head in my lap and the first stars are just beginning to appear on the horizon. I wish you could meet him, he is the dearest creature. Please write again soon, your letters have become the most important part of my day. I hope that you will not always be unknown to me.
Yours,
Persephone
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He remembered the day she told him she loved him and he confessed how he loved her. He wanted to spend his life with her, make her his Queen, and he her King. If she waited by the stream he would send a message telling her when they may meet in person. He would meet her at the surface, revealing his true identity and if she was willing, he would ask for her to become his bride. I will kiss you under the stars. He folded it carefully sending it down the river to his beloved.
Persephone’s letter returned within moments, her usual elegant hand haphazard in her haste.
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I do not care who you are my prince. If you are mortal or God it matters not. I will love you forever. Just come for me, make me yours.
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For the first time in his life he found a reason to love immortality. He placed her letter in a drawer with the others. A lifetime with her would be a life worth living. He decorated a lavish room for her and spent days chiseling the fireplace with engravings of Eros and Psyche for her arrival.
Memories, they were painful to watch. He watched how happy he was, how hopeful, how stupid. It hurt. He watched their story again not knowing how it would unfold and was helpless to look away.
It was sunset when Hades travelled to the stream with a rose. Flower petals danced on the summer breeze as he looked for Persephone, but he was alone in the forest. He strood along the shore, and then a small huddled bundle drew his eye. A sickening feeling twisted in his stomach as he approached and saw Olive’s small, broken body, his sad brown eyes blank as they stared into nothingness. He laid a hand over the deer's eyes closing them and looked around carefully to see what had harmed the little deer when he saw the crushed black rose petals scattered on the ground. He followed the petals, his heart in his throat, fear for Persephone making his feet fast. Then he saw shreds of paper thrown onto the grass.Turning the fragments of the letter, he recognized the writing as his own, under the stars. He saw a separate letter sealed, and when he opened it, Persephone’s writing filled the page.
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Never write to me again. You are a monster that no woman could ever love. I curse the day I met you. Everything you touch brings death and destruction and I hate you, hate all that you are.
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The words danced before his eyes. It could not be real, but it was her hand. She had written those words to him and he felt his heart shrivel in his chest. He crushed the letter in his hand, bending over the body of the fawn, trying to choke back a cry of despair but the pain escaped his lips as a savage bellow. It sounded like the wild scream of a dying animal, and that is what it was, the last soulless cry of a broken creature. He yelled out her name, but his voice merely echoed, lonely and alone through the trees.
“Persephone,” he moaned.
He pulled himself from the ground, keeping the deer’s body tucked close to his own. How he made his way back down the River Styx he would never know, but he only began to stir as he recognized the sound of the water next to him. He laid the deer’s body next to the river, gently brushing its head and then approached the gates to the Underworld, whispering, “Elysium.” Locking the door to his room, he poured a glass of wine with unsteady hands. He gulped down the first glass and then poured another. A bowl of water stood next to his bed and he walked over to it, waving his hand over the surface, “Persephone,” he spoke her name like a prayer.
She appeared in the water, lying on her bed, her mother grabbing handfuls of letters from a small chest on her desk and throwing them into the fire. Persephone raised her face and it was tear streaked and ravaged by grief.
“Oh Mother, I have been so stupid. He is a monster, he has no soul.”
Hades pushed the bowl from the table, shattering it against the wall. Blood dripped down his hand and he grabbed his glass, kicking open his door and almost running down the halls. He did not stop until he reached the River Lethe, drenched in sweat, his breath coming in short, heavy gasps and he fell to his knees, letting the water soak into him.
“How could I think a flower would love a thorn?” he said hollowly.” How could I think she would ever love me?” He flung his hands into the icy depths. “I wish I had never seen her, I wish I had never loved her.” His heart contracted and he felt an actual twist in his chest. “I will carry this as a scar.” He growled.
All you touch brings death and destruction, the words echoed in his mind over and over. He saw the light fade from his mother’s eyes, the madness in his father’s, the disgust on Persephone’s beautiful face. A monster.
Looking up into the heavens that he could never touch, he threw back his head and shouted, “Are you happy! Are we even? You have taken everything from me. I will never love another and my hope of happiness is lost.” He grabbed at his chest, wishing he could rip his heart out of it, wishing he could die. “How can I rule this kingdom? How can I rule these lands? I do not want to be here!” His curses fell empty into the Underworld. He screamed like an animal as his tears fell into the Lethe, “I hate her… I love her.” He bent down to the river staring into the water, his reflection looking back at him and knew his decision had been made.“I will forget her, I will forget this. I want to be free of this pain.”
He plunged the goblet into the water, filling it to the brim “Lethe, erase the memories of her and what happened between us.” He brought the cup to his lips and then paused. The wind blew through his dark hair as he sat staring over the darkened land that stretched for eternity. An eternity of never knowing her, never remembering how sweet her words had once been or how he had loved her. And how she too had once loved him. He would always be alone, but could he not leave a trace of her memory, a touch of light in his eternal blackness? “When I remember this, let me know that I loved her, gently, but that I knew I could never touch her. That is what I ask of you, Lethe. That she remain a distant, calm memory in the back of my mind. A lightness to touch the darkness in the longest nights. A quiet love. One that I never pursued.”
He drank deeply from the goblet and began to double in pain, screams of agony being torn from his lips. The moments passed as the cries began to quiet and silence filled the night once more. Hades sat up slowly raising a hand to his dishevelled hair. His head was aching fiercely and his unsettled thoughts disturbed him. He glanced down at the cup lying on the shore and then over to the River. He had drank from the River of Forgetfulness. He wondered what could possibly have driven him to seek the oblivion of the waters, searching his mind for any hint of what could have
led him to this point, but found merely… blankness. He picked up the rubied goblet and then threw it angrily into the dark waters next to him. Standing, he began to make his way back to his palace.
Hades woke from the memory like awakening from a nightmare. He had the answers now. He was the reason her eyes turned hollow and fearful, why there was a mark on her soul. She had known him the whole time, known him and hated him. Persephone had played a game with him, or worse - her words were empty. After telling him she would love him no matter who he was, she fled the minute she guessed his identity. How well she acted her part, he had believed every lie she told him. His heart quivered in his chest and the blood dripped hot against his cold skin; he wished he would bleed out, that his life force would drain into the river, so he could let the peaceful blackness claim him. But he was not to be allowed that sweet release. He would never be free from the torment of her hatred. He brushed his hand across his face, the tears smearing with his blood as he stood and emerged from the cave, wishing he had never sought the truth.
Chapter 15 - Visions
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Persephone lay on her bed staring up at the starry ceiling. Under the stars, the words seemed to echo in her head and stirred both helpless longing and revulsion. Longing for what she once believed in and disgust for what she had found. She thought of Hades’ eyes as the sun had shone in their black depths, the smile on his lips as they had played in the water. The day had held an almost dream like quality and for that span of time she had felt… happiness.
But the sun had set and the old fears had emerged from the shadows, reaching for her, consuming her. He is coming. A cold sweat began to trickle between her breasts and she pushed herself impatiently from the bed, her dark hair tumbling across her eyes as she pushed it impatiently from her face. She began to pace, and Olive cast his large concerned brown eyes towards her. When would she finally take control of her life? She was so tired of being scared; she had come so close to telling Hades what had happened in her life -- when
the Fates had appeared. The Fates who had promised that she would bring about Hades’ destruction. Those words had driven ice into her soul. She had seen with her own eyes how the blood still poured from the gaping wound in his chest, and how he was tormented endlessly because she could not love him. Both caused by a cursed golden arrow with her name on it! But the dark, horrible truth was that she could not love anyone. She was hollow inside and she had nothing to give anyone but a heart that had turned to stone. It was her dark and terrible secret -- that she was shadowed and empty. Evil had touched her and had stolen her light, even her soul bore the scar of darkness. And now, evil was coming for her.
Olive touched his damp nose to her hand as she resumed her relentless pacing and she sat back on the bed, pulling the deer’s warm body to her chest.
“Olive, I am so tired,” she whispered. “I have nothing left to give anymore.” The fawn lifted his face to hers, pressing his soft pink tongue against her cheek.” Thank you, Olive, my dear one.” She laid her head next to his, and she felt the quick flutter of his heart. Strange that one’s heart continued to beat even in death, the rhythm of life pulsing through his small body. Hades would know why, she could ask him when she saw him again. “Hades,” she uttered on a silent breath.
She let her eyes begin to drift when a sudden chill pushed against her. Her eyes flashed open and a darkness seemed to dart from her vision. Grasping Olive tightly, she turned her eyes slowly to face the moving shadow and a dark vision rose before her, tall, menacing, and full of malice. Her voice caught in her throat as the smoky image begin to drift towards her. Without thought she leapt from the bed, Olive clasped tightly as she let out a scream of terror, racing from her rooms towards her husband.
She reached his doors, flinging them open as she pushed herself inside, closing them quickly behind her. She pressed her body tightly against the golden frame, Olive cradled securely in her arms, and her small noise of distress drew Hades’ eyes. He was standing before the fire adjusting the belt on his robe, his hair damp and slicked back from his high forehead. He had clearly just come from the bath and she flushed, remembering the hard, muscular strength of his body. She straightened as he approached her with narrowed eyes, and she drank in his dark face. But his gaze held no trace of the warmth she had seen in Elysium -- he looked cold and untouchable. She will destroy you. He drew closer to her but stayed out of arm’s reach, when she wanted so much to hide in the warmth of his embrace. Was he afraid of her now, she wondered.
“What is wrong?” His voice was so remote that she shivered at the loneliness of it. She felt for the handle behind her, wondering if she should retreat, but the angry shadow from her room was too near, and she felt fear curl inside her, driving the words from her mouth.
“There is a man in my room,” she cried.
“Stay here,” he said. He grabbed her arms briefly, setting her away from the doorway, and let go quickly as if she burned him… or disgusted him. In a second he had slipped into the blackness of the corridor and she was alone. Persephone walked to the fire and sat in the chair Hades had probably recently vacated. She could smell his faint scent in the room, dark, earthy, masculine, and something else that was purely -- him. The blue flames danced merrily in the hearth, but the warmth did not penetrate her and she shivered in the chair as the minutes passed.
Had Hades sought answers from the Lethe as the Fates had told him? Did he find what he had been looking for? The Fates had warned of the danger of seeking the River and there was a blankness in his eyes she had not seen before. He had looked at her before with anger, with despair, with passion, but never with the emptiness she saw now. Persephone jumped when his voice was suddenly close to her ear and Olive leapt from her lap.
“There is no one in your room,” he said.
She leaned her head back to look at him, her gaze searching his. “He was there! It was a dark shadow, looking at me. Watching me.” His expression remained unchanged, saying nothing, and a horrible thought occurred to her. “Do you believe me?”
Hades did not answer her but returned to the door, where a servant had appeared. “Bring Charon and several guards. Search the castle for a man. Check on Cerberus.” He closed the door again and went to the table pouring a glass of wine. “Here, drink this, it will warm you.”
She took the wine from him, letting her fingers brush over his. His face tightened but he stepped away from her, sitting at the chair farthest away from her.
“Do you believe me?” she asked again, her voice strained.
“Do I have a reason not to?” he asked rather bleakly.
The question hung in the air between them and her heart gave a peculiar twist at the implacable expression on his face. It was like looking at the cool, handsome face of a stranger.
“I have no reason to lie to you,” she answered, her voice so soft she wondered if he heard her.
“Tell me again what you saw.”
“I told you! It was a shadow and it was watching me. He moved towards my bed and I could feel his… anger. I see things down here!” she cried, leaning towards him, imploring him to believe her. “This place is playing tricks on me. And a few nights ago, I saw two golden figures in the throne room and now this. Am I going mad?” she asked desperately.
He continued to watch her, his face partially hidden by shadows, half light, half dark. “I want to see what you saw,” he replied finally. “May I touch you?”
Her brow furrowed at his question. Yesterday his touch seemed to follow her like the rays of the sun that had caressed her skin, but now he required her permission? What had happened at the Lethe she anxiously wondered.
“You may,” she said in what she hoped was a steady voice. He stood, then came closer to her. His hands drew her up slowly, his touch impersonal, his fingers cool as they moved against her skin. He placed his fingertips over her temples as she had seen him do to so many of the prisoners who had knelt before him in the throne room. For a moment, panic settl
ed over he as she realized that he would be able to delve into any of her memories. She was helpless against his dark power, but then, thoughts, ideas, and dreams raced across her mind until she saw again the terrifying, shadowy figure that hovered over her. Suddenly, the dark figure vanished from her mind and was replaced by the golden figures that were entwined in the throne room, their sweet embrace causing her breath to catch. That vision, too, passed from her memory and she was once again staring into the dark eyes of her husband. He dropped his hands from her face, but he was so close that she could feel his breath on her cheek.
“Did you see him? What is he?” For a moment she thought he may close that small space between them, but then he merely moved away from her, pouring himself a glass of wine.
“You cloak the truth well. You are very good at clouding your thoughts. You have taught yourself to push memories away and it is difficult to see anything beyond shadowed movements, impressions.” He took a deep sip of the wine and then turned towards her again. “May I take these memories from you, so that I may study them?”
“You want to take my memories?” This time it was her who took a step away from him.
“Only these two. I want to see what you saw, see it through your eyes. I assure you, I will leave the rest of your memories intact, and I will return them to you in their original state when I am finished.”
She eyed him, trying to read anything in his expression. He had proved time and time again that he would do anything to keep her safe, to keep the demons at bay from her. She did trust him, she realized in surprise, she trusted him with whatever small piece that remained intact of her tattered soul. Taking a step closer, she gave a slight nod, not able to give voice to the emotions that had risen in her chest.
Hades And Persephone: Curse Of The Golden Arrow Page 20
