Heroes of a New Age

The Second Leap

There are two ways for the soul of a man who's been dead for thousands of years to escape the underworld.

The first is for a loved one still living to come and make a deal with the god of the underworld, Hades, and for the soul to follow in complete silence, without uttering a sound, as the loved one leads the way out without looking back even once.

It doesnt usually end well.

The second method involves a massive gate in a courtyard of Hades' palace. This gate doesn't open onto any plane of existence known to man or god, but onto an in-between place, where an ancient soul may get caught up in the great rush of life and death, and be placed in a body instead of a new soul.

The local clerks and servants of Hades, the entities with no souls themselves, created to file and organize the millions of dead in Hades' ever-growing kingdom, do not refer to the gate by name, though the local souls call it "the Revolving Door." The door itself does not turn on any axis, but stands open at all times, allowing souls to pass through in both directions. Only souls who have entered the door through the underworld can return to the underworld through the door.

The only way to enter the door by your own volition is by undergoing what the local servants call the TIB, which is short for The Trials of the Isles of the Blessed. In order to reach the Isles of the Blessed, a soul must have lived three lives and become a hero, remembered in legend and song, in each of them.

The TIB can be undertaken by any soul in Elysium or Asphodel, and allows the soul to re-enter the world as many times as they needed to complete the trial, in which the three heroic lives must be won consecutively.

Diomedes had been through the door once before, and undertaken a second life. He hadn't felt much like a hero in either of his lives, but the gem on the bracer on his arm, the indicator of his progress through the TIB reflected that he had been remembered. He had one further life to live, and so he stood on the threshold of the door once again.

He looked into the mists with apprehension and fear. If he'd had a heart, it would have been pounding in his chest, but, souls didn't have hearts.

The reason for his apprehension was two-fold. The first time he'd gone through the door, he had not been alone. He'd gone with a friend, Odysseus. In fact it had been Odysseus' idea to uproot his comfortable life in Elysium and attempt further adventures out in the world. After a thousand years, he'd grown restless. Diomedes had gone with him, not truly to undergo the trials himself—he didn't care if he was remembered as a hero or not—but to watch over and protect his friend.

He'd failed last time, and Odysseus had died in his arms. Though he hadn't been Odysseus then, and Diomedes hadn't been Diomedes, but men of other names. After they'd returned, they'd re-adopted the old, familiar ones, and the old, familiar faces. Sometimes, though, others on the streets of Elysium, or in the fields of Asphodel, when he went wandering with Odysseus and Penelope, they called out to him by the other name.

Now, Diomedes stood at the doorway alone. Odysseus was already on the other side, already begun his third life. Diomedes hadn't told Penelope of his suspicions. That Odysseus had snuck through the door ahead of them on purpose, for some reason he hadn't bothered to explain.

Penelope was convinced he'd been taken, somehow plucked from the road as if by a giant bird. That seemed unlikely to Diomedes. It was more probable he'd gone through without telling anyone.

"You'll find him, I know it," Penelope had whispered in his ear.

Now she and her son stood several paces back, and Diomedes faced the mists. Every moment he wasted was time lost, but he couldn't bring himself to take that first step.

"Wait!" Penelope sounded behind him, and he turned to see her stepping forward, a determined expression on her face as she reached out to him. She grabbed the collar of his tunic and pulled him back out of reach of the mists, looking him in the eyes. "I forgot something."

Without further warning, she leaned forward and kissed Diomedes firmly on the mouth, with such intensity that every thought in his mind stopped for several long moments, until she pulled away. She'd never kissed him before, not in nearly four thousand years.

"When you find him... give him that," she whispered.

Diomedes couldnt speak, but he nodded, and the ancient queen released him. She was holding herself together, but Diomedes could see the cracks forming.

"Pen..." he started, but, stopped again. He'd already made his promise to find him. There wasn't any further assurance he could offer. The world was wide, and the distance between them was growing. He was just wasting time. "Goodbye, Pen," he said instead. "See you on the other side."

Dio didn't wait for a response or look to see her reaction, he just turned to the door and leapt into the mists.