Cupid and Psyche |Lesbian Version|

Chapter 17: The Slumber

The journey to the Underworld began at the crack of dawn. Advised by the mysterious voice, Psyche headed on foot towards Sparta, crossing the countryside, going through the wood to Taenarus. There she found the breathing-vent of the Underworld.

The entrance to the lower world was a shadowy cave. The pathway snaked down into the gloomy land. Psyche took a deep breath and entered it. The gates were open, but she did not advance to that dark kingdom empty-handed. Dangling in her bag were barley-cakes baked in sweet wine.

The soil of the land was black as soot and harsh with rough terrain. As she was told by the voice, she found a cart with a lame donkey carrying a load of logs along the path. The driver likewise lame turned and looked at her with hollow eyes. His face was long with pale and leathery skin. Psyche felt a chill rush down her spine.

"Would you kindly hand me those sticks, my lady?" he said. "They have slipped from my load."

Psyche felt inclined to pick up those logs, which lay not far from her feet. She saw no harm in doing so, but then she remembered what the voice had warned her. She must pass without uttering a word and rid of any curious thoughts from her mind. Psyche lowered her eyes and quickened her pace without a second glance.

She continued on her infernal journey until the sound of trickling water soon reached her ears. Psyche had come to the lifeless river Acheron over which a ferry was floating by. Charon would demand the fare and when he received it, he would lead the deceased on his stitched-up boat and carry them to the further shore.

Psyche went to the edge of the river and waited for the ferry among the dead. She had to put twin coins between her lips for the fare.

When the boat arrived, Charon gazed at her with steely eyes. Psyche squirmed, but she must allow this squalid elder to take the coin, and he would remove it from her mouth with his own hand. When the cloaked man uncurled his bony fingers towards her, the maiden trembled and tried not to close her mouth in fear. Psyche remained still and squeezed her eyes shut until Charon's chilly hand had picked one of the coins.

"Come aboard," the ferryman said to her.

As the maiden climbed in, Charon began to oar through the sluggish stream. Psyche looked about herself. She could only see the dark water surrounding them. But then a dead man floated up to the side of the boat and raised his decaying hands to her. Psyche let out a scream and recoiled from him.

"Please, help me, my lady, help drag me into the boat with you," the old man pleaded. His voice was mournful. His face was marked with impossible wrinkles.

But Psyche shook her head and turned away. She was told not to be moved by a sense of pity. For if she did, she would be thrown off the boat and the deceased man would take her place. Psyche covered her ears and closed her eyes, trying to block his cries of the plea.

At last, they had crossed the river. Once they reached the bank, Psyche climbed out of the boat and hurried onward without looking back again. When she advanced a little further, she came upon some aged women weaving at the loom.

"Would you kindly lend us a hand, my dear?" an old woman spoke to her, smiling with her crooked teeth.

Psyche looked at the loom, which displayed a beautiful brocade. She felt her hands itch to reach out and run her fingers through the fine silk. It was quite a while since she had seen anything beautiful. Yet Psyche retracted her steps and turned away from the loom. She must not touch that either.

While she walked towards the gigantic gate, her hands clutched to the bag of cakes. She was warned that the loss of a mere barley cake would be a grave mistake. If she relinquishes any of them, the daylight of the world above shall be totally denied her.

Posted in the dark was a massive hound with a huge, triple-formed head Cerberus, the monstrous beast that guarded the gates of the Underworld.

Cerberus let out his thunderous barking. Though his menaces caused no harm to the dead, they were fatal to the living trespassers. She saw that the giant animal kept constant guard before the very threshold.

Psyche brought one of the cakes out. The loud barks almost made her drop it. Her hands shook as she stepped slowly towards the gigantic three-headed dog. Psyche's heart nearly exploded from her chest when Cerberus lurched at her.

But then the beast halted once he saw the barley cake in her hands.

"Here come and spoil yourself with this treat," she said in a quivering voice. Cerberus's jaws drooled. One by one, all the three heads bent down to devour it. Psyche was able to pass him easily and gained immediate access to the palace of Proserpina.

After a long walk through the Field of Asphodel and the Field of Erebus, she entered the dark hall which led her to the Queen of the Underworld.

Once she entered the large chamber, Psyche was greeted by a young woman about her age. She was dressed in a flowing tunic with a black crown of pearl on her head. Psyche realized that the young woman was Queen Proserpina.

"Come hither, maiden," the goddess said to her. "You must be weary from the long journey. Sit on this cushioned seat and have a hearty repast with me."

Psyche noticed that a feast had been prepared for her. All kinds of delicacies and rich wine emitted their wonderful aroma, which twisted her stomach with hunger. But she must not be tempted by it, knowing the consequence of accepting any food or drink in the Underworld.

Psyche knelt to the ground and told the queenly woman why she had come. She humbly proffered the jewel box to Proserpina. The goddess of spring remembered how Venus had warmly welcomed her when she was first brought to Olympus, so she agreed to give her beauty-portion.

"Do not open the box however much you may long to do so," Proserpina said to Psyche as she handed it back. "Now return to your world before my wife finishes her government work, or it would be too late to leave."

"Thank you, my lady," Psyche said with a bow then quickly left the dark palace.

Wearied but hopeful, she found her way back through the vast fields. Then she used the remaining cake to distract the savage dog by the entrance. She gave the last coin which she had held back to the old mariner for the ferry ride and once again crossed the dark river.

As she followed her earlier path, she soon saw a shaft of light cutting the gloomy land. But when she drew nearer and the light grew brighter, her mind became dominated by rash curiosity in spite of her eagerness to see the end of her journey.

"How do I know the Queen has given me what I sought for?" she said to herself. If she couldn't open the box, perhaps she could at least peek inside it? And why did she carry this beauty-portion fit for Venus, her cruel mother-in-law, and not take a single drop for herself? With this holy gift, she could be a more pleasing sight to her beautiful lover once they meet again.

The thoughts were beckoning for her action. She scarcely made up her mind when her hands already pried the lid of the jeweled box open.

But the beauty-portion of Proserpina is not for mortal maidens, and no sooner had she inhaled the strange fragrance than the sleep attacked her and pervaded all her limbs in a thick purple cloud. It laid hold of her body and mind so that she fell prostrate on the ground.

There where she had stood, Psyche lay with no more life than a corpse at rest.