The Taste Of Divinity

Δ Ε Κ Α Τ Ρ Ι Α

U N D E R W O R L D.

Aidoneus stood before her, silently observing the way her fingers clenched tightly around the marital gift Gaia had agreed to let grow on her ground.

Wordlessly, he placed a hand on her elbow and steered her away from the entrance of his world, pretending not to notice the way her body grew stiff. He took her to the banks of the Acheron, walking by the horrendous guardian whose mouths opened wide, sharp teeth promising anguish.

His master drew close to him, gesturing at him to stop before running his hand over one of his heavy heads. He obeyed and turned his eyes to the cowering Goddess. His fiery nostrils flared with interest. Hades whispered something to the beast, something soft that was meant only for him. A secret, perhaps.

As his hands sank deep inside the thick, black fur and Kerveros wagged his tail in appreciation, Aidoneus felt her eyes on his form, burning holes into his chlamys. When he turned towards her, she had already turned her face away. The tears kept falling from her eyes but now they fell mechanically, as though they were an obligation rather than a choice.

He drew to her still form once more, forcing her to take a few steps back. Even in that state, she did not have the power to deny him. The souls that waited for their turn in Charon's boat, waiving their oboli in the air, stared at the pair and cried as curiosity bled into their milky eyes. They recognised her, calling out her epithet, fearing the sound of her name even in death.

Kore, Kore, Kore.

Have you come to take us back? To return us to our homes?

My lady, here please. I'm not ready to face the fields of Asphodel.

Please, please, please.

But then, their eyes fell on the Lord whose crown they were now obliged to worship and fell silent. Mostly.

A few, faint whispers. His many names on their lips. The names he'd been given over the years, afraid of uttering the one Kronos had given him before throwing him into a world that had no light.

Persephone dug her nails into her arms, the ichor she'd drawn from the King now staining her pale flesh. She didn't utter a word.

They stood there, side by side, waiting in deafening silence, for what seemed like an eternity, before the boat and its lone, concealed occupant reached them.

"Aidoneus." Charon's raspy voice came from beneath his cloaked form. "My Lady. You may step inside." He made a grand gesture, opening his arms wide, welcoming them. His gestures lacked enthusiasm. There was a strain in his voice, a strangled opinion that lodged itself in his throat.

The King reached into his belt, taking out a pouch heavy with coins. He ignored the signs of disapproval, he ignored the bleeding inside his chest. He ignored everything but her, his Queen, finally in his home.

"For your trouble, my friend." He placed two coins on the boatman's vein-covered hand after helping Persephone and stepping in after her, his feet drenched from their brief acquaintance with the waters.

Charon closed his fist around them, his nails grazing skin.

He didn't thank him, he merely stared at his fist and whispered, "Be careful, Aidoneus.", before, once again, paddling down the river.