Chapter 2: The Underworld

Beyond the grave and funeral pyre lay a land of shadow and eternal gloom, the Underworld. Dead souls taken by the messenger of the gods, Hermes, were brought down through gloomy caverns and long winding underground paths until they came to the five rivers.

Charon, the ferryman, waited across the black shore of Styx by the Gates of Hades. The three-headed hound, Cerberus, who had an appetite for live flesh, would attack anyone but spirits. There lived the dead - heroes and cowards, shepherds, priests, and minstrels. They wandered back and forth aimlessly, waiting for their turn to be ferried across.

Once they had crossed the ink-black river, the souls must wait again for the trail by the three judges -Minos, Rhadamanthys, and Aeacus, the netherworld demigods.

Brave heroes might find themselves assigned to the blissful Elysian Fields, the Isles of the Blessed, where they can relive the joys of life. Those whose crimes warrant a sentence to eternal punishment were sent to the darkest regions of Erebus or down the pit of Tartarus.

There stood a great palace made of black rock and crystal, the abode of a tall slender goddess Hades. Her majestic black robe and puissant look made those around her cower in fear. Mortals were afraid to even mention her name. Very few knew her as Áïda. Perhaps for fear of pronouncing it, they started calling her Hades.

At the end of each day, Hades normally demanded a headcount of the dead from Charon. But now, she sat slump on her throne, sighing heavily to herself. Charon's report of arriving souls was evidently ignored. His mistress's mind seemed adrift elsewhere. Since her return from Olympus, Hades was pensive and negligent of her works. All day, she drank wine and sighed. The ferryman dared not interrupt his mistress' stupor. He somehow wondered what had possessed her thoughts.

"Should I continue, Great Hades?" Charon asked.

The goddess came back to her senses and looked at her servant.

"No need," she simply said, rubbing her temple with long slender fingers, "Let's finish it tomorrow. Surely, the dead can wait. Ask Minos to herd them off to the Field of Asphodel. I can't stand them twittering like bats around my palace."

"Yes, my lady." Charon bowed and left the throne room.

The palace grounds and the surrounding fields were called Erebus. This was the deepest part of the Underworld. No birds flew there, but the sounds of wings could be heard from the three fearsome creatures who had just returned. These were Tisiphone, Alecto, and Megaera, the Furies, the Eumenides, or the Kindly Ones. They were hags, with snarky hair, red-hot eyes, and yellow sharp teeth. They slashed through the air over Erebus Field towards Hades' palace. They carried with them metal-studded whips. If they found a victim, they would whip the flesh from his bones. Their normal task was to visit the earth and punish evil-doers, but this time, it was of a different matter.

When they reached the goddess of the dead, they circled low over the sparkling black ceiling, screaming their songs and the latest gossips from the world above.

Hades's mood promptly shifted when she saw her servants wild with news. But soon the Furies' dramatic enthusiasm irritated the goddess.

Hades stood up from her throne and bellowed in a sharp voice.

"Get down at once and give me what you were asked to seek!"

The Kindly Ones came down and bowed before their mistress.

"O Hades, ever the impatient one," Megaera said then hissed at her two other sisters, "Silence, you old hags! She wishes to know the news of the dainty maiden."

Though they knew Hades valued them, the Furies would rather stay away from their mistress' wrath. The hags of hell finally began narrating what they had gathered from the upper realm. Demeter's child was a virgin of such remarkable beauty that she was kept hidden from the eyes of wishful suitors for all of her life. The young lovely goddess spent her days idyllically gathering fragrant flowers in the fields of Nysa, which spread as far as the eyes could see. During the long summery hours, Persephone helped her mother gather seeds to pollinate and sow the fertile earth with. When Persephone smiled, Demeter's heart swelled with pride and happiness, and the crops grew high and healthy as flowers tumbled and bloomed everywhere.

"She has been shielded away by her doting mother," the Furies said, "and carefully kept from dangers that could befall so fair a creature."

"How is Persephone now?" Hades asked.

"She is fine and blossoming like the flowers which surround her sanctuary, my lady."

The more the dark goddess heard about Persephone, the more her heart burned with the hot golden ichor, rushing through her veins. If Hades wasn't a goddess, she could have been sure she was under some powerful curse she hadn't known. Or was it a spell of Aphrodite?

Hades never realized that her cold nonchalant heart could feel such things until she met the lovely maiden. That night, Hades felt the sweet confusion and grew dizzy with joy and strangeness. She had seen mortals become stupid and mad in love. They fought, killed, sacrificed, and even died for it. Now she fell victim to the same spell.

None could hardly blame Hades for her great yearning. The Underworld was the realm of the darkness, populated by the dead. Persephone's radiance could surely enliven her kingdom. There was no one more dazzling than the daughter of the earth goddess. She remembered how those eyes, the color of the emerald forest, enraptured her entire being. Persephone had the face of all the beauty in the world.

Hades sat back in her great ebony throne and drew in a long deep breath. She still relished at the thought of her lips touching that soft beautiful skin. It made her body tingle with strange needs. All of a sudden, Persephone had become more precious than anything on earth or heaven.

"Do you think I should go to Demeter and ask for Persephone?" the passionate and besotted goddess asked her three servants.

"A waste of time, Hades," Alecto said truthfully, "Demeter has an obsessed love for this child. Undoubtedly, she will never oblige to your wish."

The goddess was not used to being denied of what she wanted. Though not being regarded as the Olympian, she was still a powerful goddess, ruler of the dark yet wealthy realm, an older daughter of the Titan Cronos and Rhea. Even Zeus would be reluctant to displease her. Nothing could stop the Mistress of Soul from having the maiden of her dream.

Hades leaned herself back and closed her eyes.

She must have Persephone.

~*~

One warm sun-kissed morning, Persephone lay back on the long grasses by the idle stream which trickled through the paddock at the end of the garden. Bees hummed above the lapping waters and butterflies glided and came to rest beside the serene young maiden. An eager toad jumped at the darting dragonflies. It was a beautiful day in the summer. Persephone's beauty was accentuated by the lush green grass and by the handsome expression which embraced her exquisite features. Under the cascade of sunlight, she could hear the gentle voices of the Seirenes, singing and laughing in between whispered secrets. They gathered handfuls of purple crocuses, royal blue irises, and sweet-smelling hyacinths. They were making flower crowns for her.

Persephone had not thought of the night at Olympus after their return, but once in a while, a pair of bright obsidian eyes haunted her mind like a shadow. She quickly dismissed that unsettling feeling that seemed to itch in her heart. After getting tired of her handmaiden's gossips, Persephone decided to slip away and find a spot where she could be alone.

Across a stream through a grove of trees to a little glade, the birds sang and flowers danced as Persephone strolled through the path. She carried her paint pot along since she had seen a stand of tall waxy pale iris and lilies she had decided to stripe. It was her joy to paint their faces with colors she thought was best fitted for each kind.

As she went about painting iris, lilies, daisies, asters, and daffodils, she saw a vision of the most enchanting flower blooming on the ground. Persephone knew it was the narcissus, her favorite. She thought of bringing some to her mother and went farther to gather them.

Not far from the flowers was a strange bush with thick, green, glossy leaves. It was hung with large red berries that trembled on their stems like drops of blood. She leaned over to inspect it. As Persephone stood, staring curiously at the mysterious bush, she could not decide whether she liked it or not. The maiden who was always particular about plants and flowers found the scrub little to her liking.

She reached down to pluck up a handful of narcissus nearby from their resting ground, but it was toughly rooted and hard to pull apart from the bush. She was used to getting her own way so she set herself up for a mighty tug. Up came a bunch of beautiful white flowers with their bulky roots dragged out of the ground, leaving a big hole. She thought nothing of it and turned to go back to where she left her paint pot, but her feet began to tremble. She heard a rumbling sound and turned around to see what was happening. The noise that grew louder and louder was coming from the hole. To her horror, the earth fell away and seemed to be spreading and splitting open like a mouth. Then the rumbling grew to a jangling crashing din.

Out of the gaping crevice in the ground emerged six black horses, dragging behind them a golden chariot. In the chariot stood a tall awe-inspiring woman in a flowing black cape. On her head was a black crown. Her long moon shadow-black hair flowed like silk over her shoulders. Persephone was frozen by the sudden presence of the Underworld Monarch. She couldn't even think to utter a word before she was whisked off her feet by a pair of strong arms onto the golden chariot.

Persephone heard a crack of the whip upon the majestic horses. This brought her to her senses. As the anarchic beasts pulled the fiery chariot up into the air and back around, the young maiden realized she was about to be taken away into the black depths. The thought of this brought terror to her heart. When Persephone opened her mouth to cry for help, Hades's cold nectar-sweet lips drank all her screams. Then they plunged back down through the hole and her vision was soon lost within the darkness as they descended into the Underworld below.

After they had gone, the entrance promptly closed itself.