18Persephone stared into the river Acheron, tears running down her cheeks. They dripped off her pale skin and fell to the water, casting out ripples. The silvery water seemed to call to her, understanding, beckoning.
Shakily, she took a step into the water. Coldness rushed up her leg, peaceful and understanding. Calming. She took another step forward, wincing inwardly at the sadness emanating from the water itself, synchronizing with her own. The water dragged at her plain black dress, the one she had worn when she first arrived. It tangled around her legs, pulling her down onto her knees.
The water lapped at her waist, starting to chill her bones and flesh. But she didn't move. She couldn't. Not when Leucippe was dead. Not when…
Oh, Leucippe, Persephone cried, laying her head in her hands and sobbing. Her loose golden hair fell to the water and floated in wispy waves around her. Why does this hurt me so?
"Goddess?" Persephone raised her tear streaked face to look blankly at Charon, who was leaning over the edge of his boat with concern written on his face. "What ever is the matter?"
"Leucippe is dead," Persephone chocked out, wiping away some of her tears. "Lost. I can not find her soul anywhere, Charon."
"My poor Queen, nymphs do not come to the nether lands when they die, they return to the earth they were born from." Charon said soothingly, holding out his hand. "Come, my Queen, let me take you down the river a bit, and then we can find Hades?"
Persephone looked at his offered hand and gripped it, allowing him to pull her weak body onto the boat. Her legs were numb and would be for a while, so she sat down heavily in the back and rubbed her legs through her skirts. "Thank you, Charon," she whispered miserably.
"No need to thank me, Persephone," Charon said easily, maneuvering the ferry onwards – towards the north. Persephone said nothing, and laid her head in her hands. "If I might suggest Lethe, my Queen? The dead that go to the Elysium Fields take a drink to erase their past lives; perhaps for a goddess it would erase the past day or so?"
Persephone sighed. "No, I think not, my dear Charon." She gazed blankly at the misted side of the river. "I think I will go to the Elysium Fields, though – I might even stop in Tartarus today."
"Tartarus," Charon burst. Persephone's eyes snapped to him.
"That's where Hades is at the moment," her voice was chilled. "Is there a problem?"
"A gentle lady such as you shouldn't –"
"Don't tell me what I can and can not do, Charon," Persephone's voice matched the water's surface: smooth and frosted. "I am Goddess here, if you happened to forget."
"No, mistress, I did not," Charon muttered.
"Take me to Cerberus' gate."
Persephone stared across Erebus at the river Styx, as if transfixed by the rain that swathed the horizon. Slowly, she turned and descended the black staircase into Tartarus. The river Cocytus raged beneath the staircase, dragging at the stone in the hopes of pulling them down. Persephone kept walking, right into the river.
Hot, raging water dashed against her legs, and once again, her dress was dragging her down. Stumbling, Persephone moved slowly onward, barely seeing what lay before her. She made it to the center of the river before her tears started again, fresh and cold, as she struggled through the current.
"Leucippe!" Persephone cried brokenly, "why can't I find you?" The water dragged at her, pulling her back into the middle. Persephone wrenched herself free and slipped on a rock, falling to her knees on the river bank.
An old, gnarled hand rested in her hair. "She who destroys the light has come to us at last, sisters," an old, broken voice whispered. There was a rustling of harsh wool, and someone knelt before Persephone, carefully on the river bank. "The Goddess of the Nether Lands, harbinger of spring – Queen of Hades."
Persephone looked up through tear-filled eyes at one of the Moirae.
She was an old woman, blind and wrinkled, wearing a thin robe of black wool and twisting a piece of thread around and around her hands.
"C-Clotho?" Persephone sobbed, wincing as the old fingers traced the tears down her cheek.
"My dear, dear child," Clotho whispered, "do not weep for those departed. Hades will be heartbroken to see you so." Cracked, withered lips stretched into a smile. "Leucippe was happy to go."
"Clotho," a sharper voice said, "where are you, sister?"
"By the river bank, Lachesis," Clotho said thinly.
Persephone watched Lachesis, the one who determines the length of the thread, frown in Clotho's direction. "Who is with you?" She snapped, taking a few hesitant steps. Like her sister, she was blind and old, as they had been when they were born to Zeus and Themis. They were sisters to the Horae, the goddesses of seasons, but there was no resemblance. It was said Zeus was displeased with his ugly children and had them banished here so he wouldn't have to see them.
"Persephone, sister," Atropos rasped, seemingly showing up from no where. Even though she was blind, her white rimmed eyes went in Persephone's direction immediately. "She comes to speak to us."
"Did you now?" Clotho questioned curiously, tilting her head to the side. Wispy grey hairs flowed in the wind rising off the Cocytus River.
Persephone pulled herself away from Clotho and stood shakily, filled with rage. "You did this – you made her die!" She shrieked, "you cut her thread! Leucippe is dead because of you!"
Atropos frowned at her, thin lips going white. "You can not blame us, Goddess. We determine the length of life, yes, but not the choices one makes in them. It was you who reached out to Leucippe when she was sad and brought her into your life. Consider this: if you had never known her, would you be upset right now? You weep for the ones you love, but not for all the other souls here?" Atropos gestured around her. "How selfish of you, Goddess, to blame us for your sorrow, when you know nothing of it. I shed a tear for every one that dies when I cut the thread – and you don't even notice how many you are killing just by being here."
Persephone's jaw snapped shut and her anger flared. "I am killing no one by being here!"
"So you think, goddess," Lachesis said softly, clicking her tongue against her teeth. "Your mother has destroyed the balance of earth. People are dropping like flies due to drought and famine."
"I thought you control how long they live," Persephone sneered.
"It is with mercy I cut their thread." Atropos said icily. "How could I let them live in that torture when the Elysium Fields are blooming? Do not blame your sorrow on us, Persephone. Come sisters, there is much to be done in the south. We are needed there."
Lachesis frowned and followed Atropos, striding across the barren field. Clotho looked down at Persephone. "Child, do what you can to be happy," she advised, and then she was gone.
Persephone crawled out of the river and sat on the bank, staring into the hot water. I am killing no one, Persephone told herself stubbornly, biting her lip. A cold presence came up behind her, a sort of summing presence. She didn't turn around. If he wanted to, he would talk to her. And nothing would change that.
Finally, he sighed and sat down next to her, stony grey eyes looking out at Cocytus. "I've heard you were here. So what Hades said was true."
"Why would his words not be true, Rhadamanthys?" Persephone asked softly, pulling her knees to her chest and resting her chin on top.
"I just couldn't imagine the daughter of Demeter in the nether lands. And I never thought Zeus would allow it." Rhadamanthys sighed again and looked at her, "but you are our Queen now, aren't you?"
"The Judges are not in our rule."
"Officially."
Persephone managed a small smile for him, "officially," she agreed.
"Tell me what the matter is," he ordered, leaning back on his palms and crossing his legs.
"My dear friend Leucippe has died," Persephone managed, shuddering as a broken sob swept through her. "She was a Leimoniad," she added softly.
Rhadamanthys nodded his understanding.
"I don't know what I'll do without her," Persephone blinked rapidly.
"You will live here. You are not responsible for your mother's actions."
"Some… do not think so."
"Listen, whatever Atropos told you, she is an old bat." Rhadamanthys smiled slightly, "she grieves for everyone, and when someone bothers her, she tends to be sharp with them. Chances are she didn't mean half of what she told you, Queen."
"I…don't feel like a Queen, Rhadamanthys. I feel lonely."
"That's because Hades is not with you to comfort you. Does he even know about Leucippe's death?"
Persephone shook her head slowly.
"I see. Otherwise he would be here with you. You should tell him; you know he would drop everything for you." Rhadamanthys grinned at the small smile on her face. "I'm not a Judge for nothing, Goddess. Go to your husband. Tell him to reveal his surprise early. He's finishing up in Tartarus now…go catch him."
"Surprise?"
But Rhadamanthys had crossed the river in a blink of an eye and was walking up the black staircase, and didn't look back. Shivering, Persephone pulled herself to her feet and started walking towards Tartarus.
The plain fields looked the same, with twisted trees and rough grass, but she could smell Phlegethon. It was close – but Nemesis and Hecate were closer. Persephone saw Nemesis first, with her fabulous silvery hair flowing behind her, and her black robes billowing around her legs as she walked towards her. She was the divine arbiter of justice, sister to the Moirae, spirit of punishment and Goddess of retribution. In a way her beauty resembles Aphrodite, but over the years it has dimmed to a pale, cruel brilliance.
At her heels was Hecate, Goddess of witches and sorcery. She had the body of a human woman, and three heads: one was a dog's head, the second was a snake, and the last was a horse's head – the goddess of cross-roads. She could not speak, but her appearance and her enchantments fixed her image in people's hearts and made her a well known Goddess.
Persephone stopped and let Nemesis come closer, halting a few feet away from her. "Goddess Persephone," she greeted. Hecate hissed and the snake wrapped around the horse head's neck. "I am sorry to hear about your friend."
"Thank you," Persephone said cautiously. "It has been a long time since we have seen each other, Nemesis. How have you been?"
"Call me Adrasteia, my dear child," Nemesis commanded. "And I have been wonderful until news of Leucippe's death reached my ears. I came to offer you my deepest sadness, Goddess."
Hecate held out her hand and the dog head barked. Hesitantly, Persephone held out her hand. A small seed fell into her palm. It was blood red.
Startled, Persephone almost dropped the seed, but cradled it in her hands and looked at the three-headed Goddess. The snake hissed and coiled in and out of the horse's mane. Confused, Persephone looked to Adrasteia.
"'Plant it,' she says, 'it is the only fruitful plant in the underworld, it is a gift,'" Adrasteia said softly, clapping her on the shoulder. "Child, do try to be happy. It would break Hades' heart to see you upset."
Adrasteia beckoned to Hecate, who stared at Persephone with three different sets of eyes before moving on. Persephone blinked, and thought she saw the ghostly Lampades hovering against the horizon, but it was gone a moment later.
Shaking her head, she clutched the seed and walked to the Bronze Gates. Tartarus was a ghastly place, surrounded by blistering fire rolling off of Phlegethon and crashing against the triple adamant walls with bursts of red and black. Persephone's gown was plastered against her from sweat, the heat was so overwhelming, you could almost brush it with your finger tips. She shakily walked to the bronze gate, seeing for the first time the jaws of a hydra. Fifty jaws laden with razor teeth, saliva pooling in the depressions between each fang and sliding down scaly necks. It screeched, but Persephone would not be turned away.
A whip lashed from above, cutting into one of the hydra's fifty heads. It made a blood curdling noise and all fifty heads swiveled to look atop the gate. For some reason, Persephone expected to see Hades there, but it was Tisiphone – one of the Furies, the embodiment of revenge. There were three Furies, all sisters who lived in the nether lands. Aiecto, the unceasing; Megaera, the grudging; and Tisiphone, revenge.
She was naked save for her braided black hair and wreath of serpents around her head, and blood dripped unceasingly from her murky eyes. Tisiphone let out a cry and snapped the whip again – this time over the hydra's head. The hydra coiled near the gate entrance and was silent. Tisiphone, with one last glance at Persephone, disappeared over the bronze gate.
Persephone shuddered and looked into the fire sloughing off of Phlegethon's surface.
"Love?"
Persephone's head whipped up.
Hades stood off to the side of the hydra, having exited through the bronze gates moments after hearing the hydra scream. His black hair was plastered to his forehead and down his neck, the wetness of sweat bringing out a slight wave in his hair. Sweat was beaded on his pale skin, though the heat turned parts of it red, and his long sleeved shirt had been cut off at the shoulders. His black eyes were shadowed with worry.
"Persephone, what are you doing here?" He asked, troubled. Tisiphone exited behind him, and peered over his shoulder at Persephone, blinking away some blood that had crusted her eyelashes together. "I heard the hydra –"
Persephone lunged, catching him around the middle and burying her face into his sweat soaked shirt. He smelled like sulfur and blood, but he was hers.
"What's wrong," his deep voice sharpened, juxtaposition to his gentle arms wrapping around her.
"N-nothing."
"This certainly is not 'nothing'!" Hades protested, stroking her hair, which was matted from water. "Why is your hair wet? Did you cross Cocytus? Persephone, what's going on?"
"I met Rhadamanthys," Persephone looked up at Hades, seeing the confusion on his face.
"Rhadamanthys did this," Hades burst.
"No, of course not!" Persephone laughed thinly. "We talked, that's all. He seems very nice."
"Stop avoiding my question!" Hades grabbed her shoulders hard and shook her a little. "It isn't Leucippe is it?"
Tisiphone, who both of them had forgotten about, shrieked. Hades' gripped her shoulders a bit harder and turned to glare at Tisiphone. She was staring at a point in the distance, curling her whip around and around her hands.
Hades heaved a sigh at Rhadamanthys and his younger brother Minos, who were hauling a newly dead man between them. "Who's this?" He asked quietly, not even bothering to be high and mighty.
"Sisyphus," Minos said, pushing back some thick locks. "Remember him?"
Hades' attitude sharpened and fury flashed through his eyes. "Oh, yes, I remember you."
The dead man squirmed but Rhadamanthys kicked him behind the knee so he fell in front of Hades. "APOLOGIZE," Rhadamanthys roared.
Sisyphus groveled at Hades' feet but his mouth wouldn't open. Persephone pried out of Hades' grip and bent down to see his face. The man's mouth was sewn shut with bloody string.
"Who did this?" Persephone stared up at the brothers.
"Megaera." Minos said softly. "We got to him last." There was a hint of regret in his voice.
"Get him inside," Hades' voice was chipped from ice. "I don't want to deal with him right now."
"Yes, sir," Minos said with a bob of his head, picking up Sisyphus and dragging him through the bronze gates. The hydra screamed and snapped at Sisyphus, but didn't get anywhere near Minos.
Rhadamanthys sighed and went to follow his brother, but Hades stopped him.
"Rhadamanthys, a moment please."
He stopped and looked at Hades, then at Persephone. "Yes? What can I do for you?"
"Did you talk to my wife?"
"I did."
"When?"
"A while ago, near Cocytus." Rhadamanthys said slowly. "Why?"
"No reason, Rhadamanthys," Persephone stepped forward. "Go on. Minos is waiting."
Rhadamanthys walked away with a backwards glance.
"It IS about Leucippe, isn't it?" Hades demanded, turning her around to look into her eyes. "What happened to Leucippe?"
Persephone closed her eyes tight on the fresh tears. "She's dead."
Warm eyes wrapped around her, pulling her into his chest. "Oh, love." Hades muttered into her hair, hands stroking her back. "Let me take you to the Elysium Fields… I have a surprise for you."
Persephone clutched the red seed and nodded into Hades' shirt. "I would like that."
Hades smiled and kissed her forehead. "Then I will take you to The Elysium Grove."
Author's Notes:
1. There are three levels to the nether lands: Erebus, Tartarus and Elysium Fields.
2. The Moirae are also known as the Fates, three sisters born of Zeus and Themis. Clotho is the one who weaves the thread of life, Lachesis, the one who determines the length of the thread, and Atropos cuts the thread, ending their life.
3. In Hades, there are three Judges: Aeacus, who judges Europeans; Rhadamanthys, who judges Asiatics; and Minos, Rhadamanthys' brother, who judges difficult cases.
4. Nemesis and Hecate are said to wander around the nether lands near the entrance to Tartarus. Nemesis is the Goddess of Justice, some say, is also called "Rhamnousia," or "Adrasteia," meaning, "one from whom there is not escape." A measuring rod, bridle, scales, sword and scourge are her symbols, and she rides in a chariot pulled by griffins. Hecate is the Goddess of witchcraft and sorcery, whose enchantments were top notch, obviously. She was a Goddess of crossroads, and has three heads. A dog, snake and horse. When she is one earth she has been said to haunt tombs or murder sites.
5. Lampades are Hecate's companions who are a ghastly kind of nymph.
6. Sisyphus thwarted death somehow, and avoided the nether lands, and somehow made it back to the living! I have searched and searched and NO ONE knows how. They all say, "Oh, he tricked them." …Well, that's great, but HOW? Anyone who tells me will be loved to fucking death, I tell you! So he is in Tartarus, the wonderful torture chamber, and was condemned to roll a boulder up a tall hill only to have it fall down again. Wonderful, no?
7. I just want to talk about the Three Furies for a moment, and mention their other names, because I might use them later. Okay, so in mythology, there have been three major Furies. Aiecto, Megaera, Tisiphone. Wonderful, there they are. Here, for future reference, are their other names and meanings: Semnai, the venerable ones; Potniae, the awful ones; Maniae, the Madnesses – a personal favorite; Praxidikae, the vengeful ones; Dirae, the terrible ones; and Erinyes or Eumenides, which means Furies.