I'm so sorry for the wait...College just tossed me around, and beat the crap out of me...So here is the next installment of the story, if it's no good please let me know...Once again, very sorry for the wait. Another chapter willbe up very quickly. Thank you all so much for the reviews! This poem down here is called "At Last She Comes" by Roert Louis Stevenson.
At last she comes, O never more
In this dear patience of my pain
To leave me lonely as before,
Or leave my soul alone again.
Chapter 11
I sat in the library again, this time more nervous than before. Slumping back into the chocolate colored sofa I had chosen, I heaved a great sigh, which in turn stirred up the butterflies in my stomach. The library had come to be a soothing room, with all its books, candles, and comfortable chairs, but mostly the sense that it was a well-worn place, however it was the man who had worn it in that was making me so agitated. I stood up suddenly, and then sat back down. I couldn't decide what to do with myself when all I could do was think about this evening. I brought my knees up to my chest and rested my chin on them. What could he be doing? What could he be thinking right now? I thought he must be working, so I decided of course, to see exactly how Hades was doing today.
The only problem was I hadn't the slightest idea where Hades did most of his work, so I slid a large volume out from the top shelf. It was the very same book that I had looked for my first day in the library, and it seemed ironic to me that while I had been using it to try to escape before, I was now using it to find my captor. I opened to a page that showed a wide map of the inside of Hades' palace. Each room was labeled, and there were even notations for the locations of particular items for each room such as windows, regular doors, and what looked like tiny doors with spidery black lines drawn from them to other tiny doors in other chambers. Trap doors. I quickly scanned the map, anxious to see if there were any doors that lead to my room. I was grateful to find that no thin black lines reached to my chambers, it seemed that he really did have a sense of honor. I thought back to last night for a moment, and remembered how he had told me that the reason he brought me here was because he loved me. I shivered. Something didn't feel right.
I brushed off the feeling and set off for the throne room, as it was labeled on the map, but with one little twist. I knew that the entrance to the throne room was just the gaping mouth of the hallway leading up to it, so I decided instead, to use one of the passages described on the map. This way, if I read it correctly, I would come out of a door located directly to the side of the throne, that way I could have the option of choosing whether or not I wanted to be seen.
The passage was hewn out of layers of stone deep in the earth; it was narrow and damp, but well lit, with tiny stings of lights that glittered against the stone, running along the floor and the ceiling. The path wound for some time, and the further I went, the greater my sense of foreboding became. Though not about where I was going, but about what was going on overhead. I stopped for a moment, sensing that I was climbing some, and getting closer to the throne room, which was set higher than the rest of the palace. It hadn't occurred to me that climbing would also mean reaching the surface, and that I may actually be able to see what was going on up above. I began walking again, this time with a greater sense of purpose. When I finally saw the mahogany door at the end of the passage, I rushed up and pressed my ear against it. From the other side I heard a voice, a strong voice that I knew to be Hades'. Now that I was assured that I was in the right place, I decided that it wouldn't hurt to take a quick look at my home before I began spying. So I sat down with my back against the door, and closed my eyes, trying to envision my home as it was when I left. Through the black I reached out and a picture began to assemble before my eyes, but it was not at all what I expected:
Windstorms blew daily. They raged and whipped over the barren gray wastelands that covered the face of the planet. There was no rain and no sun, only starving gray clouds that idled their emaciated gray bodies over the sun and its rays. The wind continued to sweep down from the sky and pound down on the cracked earth in vain, as if it were searching for something that would not return. It ravaged the land in frustration, tore up trees, stripped crops of their fruits, and utterly destroyed all signs of growth and life. It wailed at night, sank into a soft moan of desperation as the moon rose higher and the clouds resigned themselves to separation. But in the morning, when the new day was the same as the last, it howled again in rage, and instead of dawn there would be clouds, pathetic and bruised black from the sorrow of each passing day.
The earth no longer existed in a time of prosperity as fields made up of people's livings withered and died. Sacrifices were made in vain, wasting the little resources villagers and farmers had left, it seemed that their goddess had turned a blind eye on them and they could do nothing but watch as everything they valued and depended on turned to dust. My mother, Demeter wept and wept as the days went by, thinking nothing of her loyal followers, only alternating between moods of fury and despair at the loss of her precious daughter. She would sob, and fall to the floor of her cold, marble temple and pull and tear out her hair, then beat her fists upon the ground until all her heavenly strength was drained. This was the source of the wind and the drought, for Demeter had sworn that all the days her daughter was not returned to her, would be days of unbearable suffering for all the earth. And so they were.
The ghostly specter of famine swept in through every door of every home, silent as his cousin death, but not so smooth. Death was swift, existing in only the last draw of breath, the exhalation of last words; it lived, as only death could, in the poetry of things coming to a close. Sometimes the moment of death was symbolic, sometimes it was just, and sometimes it was tragic, but it was always release. Death's dear cousin Famine tripped and coughed in his work, Famine was never poetic, and never just. Famine was ugly and slow, and when he was invited in by those too weak to close the door, he took those souls and wrung them out. They became warped, transformed into people they had never been, and never would have been. They turned on one another for the smallest crust of bread; using the only strength they had left to move their chapped lips to mumble curses at family and friends alike.
A little girl, about the age of seven, ventured outside her home in what should have been a balmy night suited for catching fireflies. The wind had calmed, and purely from youth's inability to understand futility, this little girl decided to search for flowers in her mother's garden. She crunched through the dead herbs and grasses, ducked under skeletal looking tree branches that snagged her ill-fitting dress and came at last to the end of the garden where the most glorious of flowers once grew under the blessings of Persephone, the beautiful young goddess she had seen pictures of in the carvings of the temple walls. This little girl stooped down and began to pick through the worthless pale brown stems of old blooms. Her receded eyes searched for any sign of color, any trace of life, and finally, against all chance she found a poppy flower, its thin green stem supported a delicate bloom of blood red petals. She gasped in wonder, as she adjusted to the shock of color, so long it had been since she had seen anything other than faded grays and browns. A tear ran down her hollowed cheek, yet at the same time her tiny stomach had awoken and gave a painful lurch of hunger. And so this child aged fifty years in one moment, as the flower she once would have plucked and cherished for its prettiness, she now ripped from the ground and stuffed into her mouth, chewing greedily on the paper-thin petals and stem, disregarding the pebbles of dirt still attached to the roots. She rocked back and forth on her heels and began to cry as she chewed and swallowed the poisonous flower. Her stomach clenched and writhed in pain, and her forehead broke out in a cold sweat.
The effect of the flower on her fragile body was swift and forgiving, she fell forward on the palms of her hands and her nails scraped against the hard earth of the garden as she heaved once, and fell to her side. Gray eyelids closed over grayer eyes, as she slipped into a comatose state. She died like this, her wraith-thin body bent and broken by hunger and suffering. No one would miss her; her family had starved soon before, and she had been living alone. Once considered the loveliest child in the village, she now looked strained and pale. What was left of her hair retained a faded brown color, as did her skin, which was now frosting over in grays and pallid blues.
I wrenched myself away from the vision as tears poured down my face. I had managed to summon the poppy in the last moment, hoping that it would bring this child a more peaceful end than that of her parents. With my face buried in my hands I wept for the state of the earth, for my mother, for that little girl, and I wept hardest of all because it was all my fault. My shoulders shook with silenced sobs as my grief overwhelmed me, something wasn't right up there, and I should have felt it by now. I froze when I heard a small child's voice outside the door. My eyes grew wider as I realized that this was her judgment. I listened closer, and strained my ears to hear her timid voice answer to the Ruler of Death.
Hades' voice was stern as he asked her who she was and what she had done wrong. I chewed on my lip and frowned through the tears that had run down my face. I knew that she had done nothing wrong. I had. But I also knew that Hades had seen the whole thing happen, and he knew why she was here. His judgment should have been a simple one, why was it going this far? I heard his voice again; this time he was demanding to know what she had done wrong in this life. My breath caught in my chest, he was going to punish her for what I did; he was going to call her death a suicide.
I couldn't believe it; I was suddenly fuming. I brought myself out of my overwhelming grief and confusion to throw my weight against the door, but as I tumbled out I was surprised to find that Hades was already looking at the door when I fell into the room. "What are you doing?" I screamed at him, the tears starting again. I looked at the soul of the child standing in judgment, she stared blankly back at me. She had no idea whatsoever that her death was my fault, that the death of her family was my fault as well. I turned back and forth between the two of them, Hades looked at me with something on his stare that I couldn't identify. He opened his mouth to speak, but it wasn't to me. He addressed the girl with composure that I hadn't heard in his voice before, "The remainder of your time in eternity will be spent in the Elysian Fields. You are an innocent child, whose death was not your fault. I will tell you now that after your entrance into that realm you will have no memory of your death. Do you have any questions?" And the child took this in calmly and nodded as if she had lived for centuries already. With that she was whisked away to a place that I will never be able to see.
I stood dumbfounded as I watched this exchange. He had baited me, he knew I was there the whole time and saw what I did to the girl and the poppy flower. "…You knew." I said incredulously.
He nodded. "I did."
And that was when I ran from the room. I sprinted all the way back to the comfort of my room, rushed in and slammed the door behind me. I went to the closet, not realizing what I was doing, opened the doors and began rifling through the dresses inside. It felt like all I ever did was run; my hands finally stopped on a light blue and lilac colored dressing gown. I numbly shed my clothing, running over what I saw in my head, getting over the shock. The gown draped all the way to the floor and wrapped around making a v-shaped neckline. It was lined with lilac cashmere and the outside was made of thin, light blue satin that had a delicately inlaid swirl pattern. I rubbed both sides between my thumb and index finger as I walked over to my bed. Only then did I realize exactly how well Hades had arranged my room; everything about it reminded me of the beauty of the earth, from the marble, to the flowers in the wood grain of the mantle, and even the tiny blooms on the cover for my bed; and it all made me sick. I couldn't stand to be around it anymore, so I was going to run one more time.
I hurried out of my room, with the end of my gown trailing behind me. I had forgotten my shoes, so I padded quickly to the right, where I thought I remembered Hades' room to be from the map. I thought that if there was anywhere that wouldn't remind of the earth it would be his room. When I got there, I realized that I wasn't running at all, but now I was so confused that my eyes began to water again. I pushed feebly on the door to Hades' room and it was open and empty. I sighed a breath of relief, because I hadn't gotten as far as figuring out how I would have explained myself for being in his room, I had assumed that he would not leave his duties.
I was awed at the size and beauty of the room, it was an expansive room, simple in design, and everything in it was black and white. I sat down on the largest bed I had ever seen in my life, it was a four-poster bed covered in black blankets, with white sheets, and white pillows. So many things were fighting for attention in my head, the need to go home a fix the desperate condition it had fallen in, but that would mean leaving Hades… Bringing my knees up to my chin, I tried in vain to figure out what happened this afternoon. Time must move differently here, which would explain the deterioration of the earth…nothing could have happened that quickly…I have to go back, that's the only way that my mother will stop all this…but…I'm not so sure I want to leave yet…but the only reason I'm here is because I was taken here without my mother's consent…I couldn't just tell my mother that I would like to stay a little longer, could you please stop destroying the earth. I sighed. I have to go home, I have to make him let me leave. Withdrawing into my anguish, and myself, I thought of the face of that little girl and how many others looked just like her, and I thought of the way Hades looked at me last night. I had to choose one of them.
During the time I had spent thinking, I had almost forgotten where I was. I remembered suddenly when the doorknob twisted and the door creaked slowly open. Hades walked in, with his coat slung over his shoulder, and his eyes looking down at the floor. This was one of the rare moments when I got to observe him when he thought no one else was looking. At that moment he looked like he had the world on his shoulders, and he did. His expression was not mournful however; it was resolved, angry even, which suited his face perfectly and I could not help but notice how handsome he looked. And then the moment was over; Hades noticed my unexpected presence in his room…