Hades and Persephone

Chapter 20: She Wins

Hades pulled the chariot off the road at a leisurely pace. An awestruck Persephone, not even noticing just how far from Elysium they now were, watched the scenery. When one was not being thrown around, it was a beautiful world. One that was shrouded in nothing but shadow and gray.

Dark stone and cement made up the roads, earth permanently the color of night with black tufts of grass. The occasional tree provided unneeded shade, its leaves matching the floor yet a different shade than the false sky. Mangled limbs curled around each other, as if protecting itself against frigidly stale air.

That was the world as it blurred together. No difference between an annoying pebble in a shoe or the Styx as it roared off a cliff and continued under a bridge.

That was the world as its own lord saw it as.

Bricks below shimmered under the light of the chariot's lanterns. Sparks of purples and glints of red and everything between; uncut gems that were smoothed and polished over millennia of travel. Earth that could contend with even the most fertile riverbeds. Grass and matching leaves the darkest green Persephone never thought possible. Even the mangled limbs of the trees, hiding themselves away from wind and sky and light and touch, bent and curled around itself like the finest of sculptures. Even the flowers dotting the landscape that her host had failed to realize were there had the most vibrant dustings of pink and yellows across them.

The Styx rushed with the soft glow of souls partially forming in its depths. Whispers of the Lethe skirted across the horizon, a stark contouring of the surrounding landscape. Even the same annoying pebble would be streaked with veins of ore and colorful crystals.

Constantly confronted with new beauty, the only reminder Persephone was not in her own image of Olympus was the lack of stars. Something that saddened her as she realized it.

Hades reached out his hand, offering to help her off the chariot. Yet, he refused to look her in the eyes. Persephone's gaze followed her black meadows that she so loved become lighter the taller the grasses became. He removed his hand from hers far too quickly.

Images of people flickered in and out of existence through the high grasses. Children playing tag, mothers carrying baskets of fruit or pots of water. Fathers hauling fresh kills of meat or tending to herds on the hills.

"You remember the meadows." It was a statement. One without humor or mirth.

"Ah, yes. Such a lovely stroll we took through them earlier. Very relaxing." Hades refused to respond, or even show he had heard her sarcasm laced response. Yet, as she side-eyed him, she could have sworn a corner of his mouth twitched upwards.

As he led her further into the meadows the people became more solid. Their images flickering less, taking on more color. Soon sounds came with them; shrieks and minor arguments and doting statements and motherly scolding.

"Why are we here?" Persephone asked.

Hades ignored her for a moment, collecting his thoughts. With a sigh, he responded. "For one, I figured you deserve a proper view of the meadows. One filled with less of a mad man's ravings and threats."

"Less?"

"You would be surprised how finicky these mortal souls can be," the smirk was evident in his voice.

"It was definitely the souls I was concerned about."

Whatever smile Hades held dropped, his voice taking a more serious tone. "You should. A mortal soul is probably the most dangerous thing you will find when it breaks. Styx knows what it would be like with a god's..." He trailed off as if in thought.

"Besides," he continued. "Tearing through the meadows can have some— ill effects."

"Oh, yay, a potentially dangerous situation that you've conveniently brought me to."

"If you are going to continue to complain you can stay with the chariot." With no reaction he continued, "Alone."

Persephone simply shrugged.

"In the dark."

"There are lanterns."

"With no one to protect you from the flesh-eating monsters that keep the souls in their pens."

"And?"

"That is not Cerberus."

"I repeat: And?"

"How are you not scared?"

"Because you have done nothing but try to torture, ignore, or scare me while I was here." She counted each item on her fingers. "I figured out your tell a while ago.

"Every time you made a false threat you flair your nostrils."

Hades turned, looking at Persephone's nose instead of her eyes. "And I was also extremely angry when I made those threats. And those were not false threats" –he crossed his arms—"I was talked out of them later."

"By who?"

"Thanatos," he said matter-of-factly.

"Uh-huh. You do know you are flaring your nostrils now, right?"

"So, every time I am angry, I lie?"

"No." Persephone pointed at his hand. "Every time you flair your nostrils and dig your nails into your palm you lie."

Hades looked down and immediately unclenched his hand; his nails had left marks.

"Well— you— I—" Persephone smirked at his loss of words.

"I win. Ha-ha," she sang. Before he could utter another response, she had already walked into the tall grasses and left him standing there.

*****

"This is—" Persephone stood rather confused by her surroundings. Hades raised a brow at her, a silent question she had no way of seeing from behind her. "—different than I imagined."

Hades gave a short laugh. "I always forget you were raised with mortals. I never asked: how do they see the Meadows?"

"A swirling pool of nothing. Like everyone is asleep."

"Well, that's no fun," he took the lead and motioned for the goddess to follow. "Besides the fact that it is rather unfair." A young child cut in front of the god—either not knowing or caring that he was there—soon followed by another. Both ran scream around in circles, one trying to catch the other. "Especially for the ones who never had a chance to live."

The farther they traveled into the meadows the more Persephone understood its name. Those star-like flowers she had seen at the edges of the roads now grew in clusters. What seemed like hundreds sometimes grew on the same stalk, golden pollen dusting the edges and center while purple stripes broke up the white petals. Women worked hard in those flower fields, picking and stripping the bulbs from the stems, before caring overflowing baskets to a nearby village.

No one seemed to mind the gods' presence to the point that, at first, Persephone believed them not to see them. Then she began to notice the slight nods and warm smiles as the people passed.

The goddess bent to inspect the flowers—ones that, to her knowledge, never grew on the surface. Before long she felt a pair of eyes bore into the back of her head. Hades stood, arms crossed, annoyed and waiting.