"And Hades seized her and took her loudly crying in his chariot down to his realm of mist and gloom" (Homeric Hymn to Demeter)
The stygian darkness seemed to cling to him, like an invisible hand clenching tighter and tighter. Moving down the stairs, he trod carefully, almost unwilling to take the next step forward. He feared the next step would be his last; that the floor beneath him, invisible to the naked eye in the gloom, would suddenly crumble away, leaving him to fall for eternity into oblivion. He paused, taking deep breaths to steady his nerves. After three deep gulps of the stale air that encircled him, he moved on, away from the last step and towards the palace before him.
It was unlike any palace he had ever seen before. The walls were as black as coal, the high roofs as dark as night. Winged creatures too small to identify seemed to circle above the tallest tower, and somewhere in the distance, a fierce unearthly growl filled the air. Feeling his blood start to freeze with terror, he moved on, towards the palace doors. Twin doors of black wood, possibly cypress, seemed to beckon him forwards. He pushed, and they swung silently open, without the faintest squeak of resistance from the hinges.
As he wandered down the long hallway before him, he saw a light ahead. Being the only visible light in the vicinity, he crept forward, forever conscious of where he was, who he was, what he was about to do. His mind filled with a thousand images, each a part of his story of love and death.
His parents named him Orpheus, and he was blessed by Apollo at birth. By the age of three, he had played his first chord on the lyre. By age 7, he had written his first song. At 25, he was the most famous musician in Greece. It was said that his mother was Calliope, the Muse of epic poetry, and was therefore partially divine. Indeed, his musical abilities were nothing short of Olympian, so much so that they caught the eye of the Archer God himself. Apollo gave him a golden lyre, similar to the one used by the deity, with which to share his music across Greece. He had also given Orestes a bride; Eurydice, daughter of Apollo. The two were very much in love, and Orestes sang of this love anywhere and everywhere. His fame, and his love for Eurydice, was known from the Aegean to the Ionian, from Aegyptus to Asia Minor, Thrace to the Peloponnese.
Orpheus became so famous that he began to believe the rumours that followed him like a shadow.
'Orpheus was trained personally by the Archer God.'
'Orpheus is a son of Apollo, hence his superior musical abilities.'
'Orpheus is a better singer, musician and performer than the Archer God. Perhaps Zeus wants to replace the son of Leda?'
Orpheus, overwhelmed by the support from friends and followers across Greece, did nothing to quell such rumours. In fact, he lived up to them, claiming himself the son of Apollo. All the while, the Archer God grew more and more irate with this mortal who claimed to be better than the god himself. Eventually, Apollo went to his twin sister, Artemis, goddess of the hunt for assistance.
"Never fear, dear brother," she replied. "As goddess of the wilds, I will settle the mortal so that he will never challenge your divine presence again. With that, she departed for the meadows of Sparta, fields of green that spread as far as the eye could see. Here she found Eurydice, beloved wife of Orpheus, gaily wandering through the green sea, humming a tune written by her husband. Artemis, bringer of peaceful death to all women with her golden bow, chose not to end the girl's life herself. Instead she set a satyr upon Eurydice. Terrified of the man-goat attempting to take her purity, Eurydice ran. She stumbled and fell, tripping over a lone rock on the ground, hidden from the eye by the grass. The maiden fell into a nest of vipers, startling the snakes into attacking out of fear. One sunk its poisonous fangs into her heel, before sliding away into the green once more.
Within minutes, the poison took hold, and Eurydice, husband of Orpheus and daughter of Apollo, left the world of the living.
Upon hearing the tragic news, Orpheus collapsed into a pit of despair. He refused food and drink. He shunned his friends, turned his supporters away from his home. He retreated into a dream-world, where he could remain with Eurydice, ignorant of the dreadful truth.
After six cycles of the moon, Orpheus finally ventured out of his house, taking his golden lyre with him. He wandered towards the agora, unmolested by the throngs of people who had cheered him before. Entering the open area, he made for the far end of the agora, seemingly oblivious to the hustle and bustle around him. He did not hear the poor begging, the merchants shouting their wares, the philosophers lecturing their students, the lawyers finalising statements. Orpheus saw and heard none of this, blocking everything with his grief.
Taking his position at the far end of the agora, as he had many times before, he began to sing. Instead of his love, however, Orpheus sang of pity, despair, pain and death. He told of his lost love, how the world was not worth living in without his Eurydice. Those that stopped to listen found themselves shedding hot tears of misery alongside the musician. The ground became damp with so many tears, as though a libation was made through the shared sorrow to the soul of Eurydice.
That had been several lunar cycles previously; how many, Orpheus could not remember. Instead, he now focused on his present. The corridor he had been wandering down came to an abrupt end. He pushed a large door open before him, noticing the expert hand that had carved the barrier from cypress, and entered the grand throne room. Like the walls of the palace outside, the interior walls were various shades of black and grey. The only colours to be found in the dank and dismal chamber were two magnificently decorated thrones. Made out of solid gold, with beasts carved in silver running down the legs, Orpheus saw every gem imaginable to the mortal mind. Never before had he seen so much wealth in a single object. Yet Orpheus cared nothing for the thrones. His attention focused on the figures sat in them. He approached, fell to his knees and gripped those of Hades, Lord of the Underworld. The son of Kronos, stunned at seeing a living mortal in his palace, quickly recovered.
"Tell me, Orpheus, son of Oeagrus" said Hades, his deep voice seeming to reverberate off the walls of the grand hall. "Why does a grieving mortal, yet one that still breathes the air of Zeus and spies the waves of Poseidon, come down to my dark realm?" Tears streamed down Orpheus' cheeks as he replied to the deity before him.
"Mighty Plouton. I come to humbly ask that you end my suffering on earth. Release the soul of my beloved Eurydice, taken from me too soon by the combined thoughts of Leda's children. Our mortal lives are too short for such agony as I feel; you, on the other hand, will forever have the divine Persephone as your queen."
Hades stroked his black beard, looking at Orpheus as one might a talking sheep; bewilderment that such a thing is happening before you. After what seemed like an eon, the dark Lord stood, clasping his hands behind his back.
"Orpheus, you know I am reluctant to release the souls of the dead from my domain. Yet your love for your wife reminds me of that I feel for Persephone. Therefore, I shall grant you your request on one condition." Orpheus stood up, trembling as he stood face to face with the Unseen One. "You are not to set eyes upon her until you both breathe the air of the living. I will not release Eurydice's soul unless you trust me. Trust me as I trust you; break my trust and you will spend the rest of your life in mourning for her." Orpheus sobbed with relief as he nodded his concurrence.
"I agree to your terms, oh merciful Hades. I shall invest my trust in you until we return to the surface above." With that, Orpheus bowed his thanks to the Lord and Queen of the Underworld and quickly left the palace. Resisting the urge to check behind him, Orpheus began the trek back to the steep stairway that joins the realms of living and dead.
Upon reaching the first step, he paused and listened, He heard the soft footsteps behind him, footsteps that he had not heard for many months. With a renewed joy in his heart, he set off up the steep stairs, all the while listening to the footfalls behind him.
After a tiring climb, Orpheus broke the surface, emerging among the black volcanic rocks around the fiery mountain that crowns the island of Sicily. He revelled in the smells of ocean spray and volcanic sulphur. After venturing into the realm of eternal darkness, his heart warmed once more at the sight of a sea bird flying above him, its grey feathers obvious against the blue sky.
The relief of being back in the dominion of the living momentarily stunted his concentration. His heart skipped a beat, as he tried to listen for those golden footsteps. Any sound was blocked by the crash of waves and the cries of gulls. Fearing the worse, he spun round, expecting to see nothing behind him. He expected the selfish Hades to have gone back on his word, choosing to retain Eurydice's soul in order to see Orpheus suffer. Instead, the image before him chilled him to the core, and became etched in his mind.
There was Eurydice. Her auburn hair blowing in the breeze, her beautiful face carved into a smile that could illuminate the deepest night. He looked down. She stood but two steps down, two steps away from living once more. Her smile faded into horror. A banshee's scream filled the air, causing Orpheus to drop his lyre and cover his ears. As he watched, Eurydice faded away, her soul dying once more, this time before his very eyes. Stunned, Orpheus made for the staircase, but the cavern had vanished, the pathway to the Underworld closed to mortal eyes once more. Despite this, Orpheus pulled at the rocks, slicing the soft skin on the razor edges of volcanic glass.
Before long, he gave up. He knew his lack of trust had cost him the one person he truly cared about. Heading back towards the coast, he turned things over in his mind. Determined not to let his lack of trust in the gods affect him anymore, he devoted himself there and then to honouring the gods of Olympus as he should have done before; with his tongue, his voice and his lyre.
When he arrived back in Greece, Orpheus was a changed man. He no longer mourned publicly for Eurydice, instead singing of happier memories. His friends and followers were once more welcome at his home. He wrote hymns to all of the gods, known collectively as the Orphic hymns. Eventually, he dedicated himself to the one god who had given him his true talent and his true love. He honoured Apollo above all others, guaranteeing that the Archer God would never have reason to cause so much grief to him in the future.