Hades and Persephone

Chapter 13: I'm Surprised You Can

Her arms extended to keep balance, Persephone walked atop the wall while Hades walked along the streets. She kicked up the edges of her dress and watched how the fabric fell back down in waves. They had dropped off the urn at a house one or two blocks back. He allowed her to enter but hadn't allowed her to go up the stairs with him. Instead she sat in- what she assumed was a living room? There was so much fabric thrown everywhere she couldn't tell what-was-what.

White marble seemed to be the theme in this area. It made the streets, the homes, the sidewalks and the very wall she walked on. Though, it was perhaps closer to a fence. The extra two feet made her perhaps a head taller than Hades.

"I never thought a kingdom could be as big as this! I can't even imagine the size of Olympus!"

"It's actually much smaller. Maybe less than a fourth," Hades replied. The streets were barren in this part of the city, something he was grateful for.

"Really? Everyone always talks about how Zeus has the largest domain."

"I suppose he does- or did. His realm is finite. As is Poseidon's. The underworld is ever-expanding to accommodate the dead."

"So, all the dead live here?" It was perhaps a dumb question, she knew, but why else would he have such a large city? His own Olympus four times over.

"No. Most are in the meadows." She gave a questioning look, asking him to elaborate.

"Asphodel Meadows? What, do mortals not speak of it anymore? It is where the unexceptional go after death. They do not do bad in their lives, but they did not do much good either."

"That seems rather cynical."

He shrugged. "Perhaps. But it is true. Think of it as similar to the surface. The souls construct their own governments and societies. They still possess freewill. They trade, they talk, they create."

"That sounds very different to how it's describe."

"Most mortals I've talked to imagine it as a sort of limbo. The reality is it gives souls a chance to do something with themselves. Because they are left to themselves, though, it can warrant certain spirits being reassigned. Some to Elysium, others to the Fields of Punishment. Or potentially Tartarus." He said it with disdain. As if a memory left a sour taste in his mouth.

"When was the last time that happened?"

"Tartarus? Some centuries ago a shade watered the ambrosia orchards with waters from the Phlegethon. Set fire to the entire crop.

"When we questioned him, he did it on purpose. Something about making the gods pay for his 'eternal damnation'. Was not much of a trial because he admitted his crime, but it earned him Tartarus."

"Wait, ambrosia? That's grown here?"

Hades stopped and turned to look at her. "What does your mother teach you up there?"

She shrugged. "Not to eat the fruit of the dead." It was a moment before Persephone realized he had stopped walking. She turned and found herself looking down at the god. She smirked internally.

"I assume that is why you haven't been eating?" She nodded.

Hades sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Well, you have it half right. Food of the dead has no effect in the realm of the dead." He picked up his stroll, catching up with her. "But on the surface, it can turn- harsh. Even gods have to be careful with ambrosia. It's the same with food of the living."

"So, just don't eat what isn't native."

"Precisely."

"So," Persephone paused long enough to jump down off the wall. Hades stood and waited for her to catch up. "How do you get ambrosia?"