Chapter 3
New dawn took life
from the dead night…
When she returns, he's still hard at work. The sound of chisel and hammer, of stone breaking in face of his strength is audible. She pauses at the threshold of his workspace and admires his form.
If she were capable, she would immortalize him in stone.
Strong, broad shoulders that move as he repeatedly strikes the stone to give it a desired form, the muscles at his back that bunch at the constant motion, his long fingers that hold the chisel surely, his profile that is reminiscent of a beautiful masculinity of the days of old…
How picturesque is he, her Damon!
She takes a deep breath and tries to calm her racing heart. This time when he turns, he will know her. She doesn't know why she feels this fear. After all, he's the man for whom she stopped the dawn, chained the sun god so that the day won't ever come.
Should she go to him or should she wait for him to turn?
As she stands watching, he slowly gives shape to the stone, the curve of her lips opening in a mysterious smile.
Tired, and soaked in sweat, he puts down his tools to stretch his aching fingers.
The tips of his fingers and his knuckles are raw, skin torn at places, flesh peeking from behind the curtain of dried blood.
Before she can consciously make a decision whether to go to him or call out his name, her feet are moving in his direction, her eyes rapt at his battered hands. The sounds of her footsteps alert him and he stills, making her stop in the process.
It feels like an age before he turns.
She sees everything in slow motion, his turning head, his eyes that go wide before he closes them, the breath that he forgets to take, his hands that curl in a fist…
'Damon…'
Her whisper echoes in that silence. She feels terrified and yet elated. Were she to die in this moment, she would die gladly, with a smile on her face for he is here. She can see him before her eyes close for eternity and her soul is banished to Tartarus.
'Demon, be gone,' he hisses. 'You can't tempt me with her face.'
Her heart stops for a moment and that moment feels endless when he raises his head and she gazes into his eyes. He truly thinks she is a creature of Underworld sent to taunt him.
What tribulations they put him through? What kind of enjoyment do the so-called gods take from this misery of a helpless man?
'Damon, how can these be eyes?' she says. 'How can eyes have so many colors?'
He continues to stare at her, disbelief and anger still in his eyes. She takes a step in his direction slowly, careful not to startle him.
'These are the eyes of Argus, of Hera's faithful giant, hundred in number so that he could guard Io, keep her away from Zeus…' she repeats the answer she gave an eternity ago, trying to make him remember, trying to make him believe that she is his Elena.
'Go away,' he says tiredly, closing his eyes. 'You always say the same things, but you are not her. You are the phantom Nemesis sends to torture me, to remind me that my Elena has been banished to a place from where no one returns…'
She falls to her knees at his declaration, screaming in rage and pain. 'I am Elena,' she sobs. 'Your Elena. Please, Damon…'
He turns away, away from her to his unfinished replica of her.
'I will finish this statue,' he says firmly. 'And when I do, Aphrodite has promised me she will bring it to life. She will bring Elena to life…'
Oh, her poor Damon. Just like her, he's trying to cling to memories, the only things they have of one another, of that brief, innocent romance that could have been so much more had she not been who she is, had he not been who he is.
But she is her father's daughter—cruel, heartless and ruthless. Part god and part human, hanging on the precipice of both worlds but never belonging anywhere. He was the first person who gave her a semblance of belonging, with whom she thought it won't be too difficult to be different. And now, those rotten beings who sit in Olympus, who think it is very amusing to play with the life of mortals have taken one thing, one thing that made her endure that labyrinth.
'Will that stone truly be your Elena?' she asks softly. 'Will it have her memories, her dreams, her pain?'
He stills. His hands stop.
'Will that stone know how fast your heart beats when your Elena looks at you and smiles?'
He turns to face her, brows drawn together in confusion.
'That stone you so religiously carve hasn't felt the pain of losing your love. That stone doesn't know how it feels to be hungry, to be so hungry that you eat the vermin crawling in your prison, that you tear off the fungi and the grass on the walls and eat them to calm the fire in your belly. That stone Aphrodite promised to bring to life won't be your Elena. It would just be a fantasy, a cruel dream that will shatter as soon as it comes to life…'
'At least, it would be better than having nothing,' he replies hopelessly.
'Gods never grant wishes without taking something from you. What will they take now, Damon? What will Aphrodite take from you in return for making that stone a flesh and blood woman?' she questions harshly. 'You've already lost your days. Tell me, Damon where do you go in the morning?'
His eyes widen at her question, confusion and distress already clear on his face. Uncaring, she presses on, somewhat cruelly.
'Apollo took your days away. Took Elena away from your heart when the sun shines,' she tells him bitterly.
'No, you're lying,' he says. 'Apollo saved me. He saved me when…when…'
'When my father pushed you off the palace tower while I stood watching,' she completes brokenly.
'I remember everything so clearly,' she confesses listlessly. 'Even though years have gone by, I still remember it as if it happened yesterday. Time has not dulled my memories. I see you falling every day, every minute, every second…'
He is silent and looking at her as if he can't understand what she is saying.
'The gods didn't save you Damon,' she whispers. 'They punished you. They punished me. We are nothing more than two puppets being played for their enjoyment. Our love, our separation, our pain—it's nothing but a source of amusement to them.'
She can't see him clearly. He appears distorted from behind the tears that have filled her eyes. She blinks, and they roll down her cheek, the tears that she sheds only for him, only for them.
He is Damon, close, so close and yet so far.
She should've made her way to Nemesis after she had been done with Apollo. She is too tired to host Khaos now, too poor to give him the tribute he desires for being summoned. There is no rage left, only misery, only this painful thing that optimists call love, something that Khaos has no use of.
The tears keep falling. They are making up for all that time she kept them from escaping her eyes.
Her lids are closed, head hanging in defeat when she feels his fingers on her cheek. She keeps herself from reacting lest this is another cruel illusion.
'Are you truly my Elena?' he asks timidly and fresh sobs break free from her throat.
She wants to touch him and yet she curls her fingers in the dirt to stop herself from touching him. For if she touches him, she won't be able to survive without him this time around.
'Are you truly her?' he asks again, a little more sure as his fingers move over her closed lids, over her sealed lips.
'You feel like her, you look like her, you talk like her. Are you really her?'
She kisses his fingers in response, opens her eyes and raises her hand to touch his skin tentatively.
But before she can, an arrow embeds itself into her back…
The moment the arrow pierces her body, she lurches forward and his strong hands keep her from falling flat on her face. She sees his eyes changing, the recognition flaring in their depths. Amid the burning pain, she smiles.
He knows her now.
Finally, he remembers and he knows.
Her Damon, he knows.
'Elena?' he whispers painfully, his face inches from hers as he stares down, into her eyes.
'Damon,' she sighs happily as another arrow follows suit and buries itself beside its brother.
'You go too far, daughter of Hades,' thunders the goddess at her back, pulling the string of her silver bow, notching the golden arrows.
The goddess Artemis. Apollo's twin sister, here to avenge her brother's humiliation, here to end her so that the new day can begin.
So, this is how her end has come, she thinks. Dying by a goddess' hand, being hunted like an animal despite there being a law in Olympus proclaiming that no god will take life of another demigod save for the godly parent.
She raises her hand at last to touch his cheek and warm tears wet her fingers.
'We were happy in that library, weren't we, Damon?' she asks tearfully.
'Yes,' he sobs and pulls her into his chest.
Artemis lets her arrow fly. It pierces her heart from the back, exits and imbeds itself into his flesh.
His body jerks, but his hands tighten and she howls in rage.
She struggles to push him away from her, for she knows this is what the Goddess wanted, but his hold is strong.
'You had promised me a kiss, Elena,' he whispers as another arrow tears open his flesh near his shoulder.
Fresh tears fall from her eyes for days that had not imagined the horror of their budding love. Isn't it strange that they haven't even shared a kiss?
He moves her head gently despite the burn and the pain coursing his body. Reverently, he presses his lips against hers and closes his eyes.
The final arrow whizzes from the bow and finds its mark.
It enters her body and exits through his.
New dawn breaks over as they die, as she dies and Apollo is freed…
She stands before her father in the underworld, ready to be judged. She knows she will be banished to Tartarus, her soul fed to the dungeon where the most wicked of demons are sent, the dungeon that holds all the banished Titans.
'Elena, Daughter of Hades, you have sinned,' her father states gravelly. Seated on his high throne of bones, diamonds and onyx, his face is devoid of any emotion. She is long past the time when she wanted to shake her father and ask him why he had left her in that labyrinth where all who went never returned. She bows down her head and stares at her bare feet. She will accept whatever punishment he awards her. She survived labyrinth.
How hard an eternity without Damon in the underworld can be?
She smiles at the irony of her own thoughts.
'Elena,' he calls out her name and she is forced to look up.
She can see herself in his face. The shape of her nose and her lips, the color of the eyes…
She is his daughter, through and through.
She…
The doors of his hall swing open and in walk three men with disgruntled faces.
'Lord Hades, this is against the rules of the underworld,' the first man says with a creepy smile on his face, eyeing Elena. 'We judge the dead, my lord.'
She looks at her father and sees his eyes narrow and lips roll back to expose sharp, white teeth.
'I'm aware, Minos.'
'Then you must know, my lord, that you can't grant her entry to Elysium just because she is your daughter. Now, for a soul like her, the Mourning Field is the just place,' Minos continues, unaware of the gleam of anger shining in her father's eyes.
Elysium? She wants to laugh.
Don't these so-called wise men know her father?
He knows no mercy. Had he known the emotion, he would've saved her from her prison.
If he has his way, she will stand for an eternity in the field where all souls wail for their unrequited love. If he has his way, she will listen to the haunting tales of their unfulfilled love for years and years to come.
'What is it to be, Lord Hades?' she asks finally, growing tired of the bickering. 'What is to be my punishment?'
Her father looks at her as if she's hurt him, as if calling him by his name is somehow insulting. Did he really expect that she would call him father? After all that has happened?
'Gods are all the same, godling,' Khaos hisses in her ears and she looks around in surprise. Has he escaped the pit?
But there is no one around save for the Judges of the dead and the Lord of the Underworld.
'Why don't you take what you desire, godling?' the voice questions again. 'Why don't you summon me?'
But how can she? She has no body. She is just a spirit, a spirit awaiting her punishment.
'Do you think Artemis would be punished for what she did?'
And the question shocks her. 'Why don't you ask your father what punishment Artemis will receive, or Apollo, or Nemesis for that matter?'
And so she does. Asks her father about Artemis and her sin and receives an answer she expected which still hurts her no less.
'Goddess Artemis will reflect upon her actions…'
She will reflect upon her actions? Elena laughs in bewilderment and pain, in rage that is slowly awakening inside her.
He is her father and he will do nothing to avenge her wrongful death. She deserved punishment for chaining Apollo, but she didn't deserve death. He, her godly parent, would do nothing; demand no punishment for her killer.
How expendable she is, isn't she?
'Why don't you call for me now, godling?' Khaos sibilates lovingly. 'I'll help you escape this prison alongside your love…'
She knows his desperation. This old primordial who has been caged for as long as the human memory serves—he wishes to escape this place just as desperately as she does. He wishes to live, just as she does.
But summoning him would mean sharing her body, sharing it for eternity, for as long as they exist outside the underworld. She would live a half life.
But it would be life.
'With Damon.'
'Khaos,' she screams, willing her spirit to merge with his essence.
He invades her being like the sweetest of pain, an old friend she is glad to meet again.
He fashions a body for her spirit, one that looks exactly like her demigod shell.
'Isn't this lovely, godling?' he whispers in her head before fading away, before hiding deep into her psyche.
She doesn't wait for the reactions, for the scream of fury or terror. She dematerializes from Hades' hall and appears on the edge of fields of Asphodel.
Millions of souls stand in that dry, barren land, staring into distance lifelessly, just standing and staring. They are all colorless, punished to a monotonousness they don't know what to do with.
She spots him easily. Even banished to this infernal place, he is still who he is. She wonders who decided to send him to the fields of Asphodel, for he is not a soul who didn't do anything of merit in his life. He is not someone who just existed.
He is trying to hold a conversation with Sisyphus who is pushing a boulder diligently atop a hill.
'Damon,' she calls out and watches his eyes flicker around to find the source of the sound. It lands on her instantly, for she is color in this colorless plane.
He runs to her and she opens her arms.
When his lips press against her lips and his hands pull her closer to his body, she sighs.
He is gaining color.
The essence of Khaos is creating a body for him.
'Aren't you thankful, godling?'
She is, she thinks as they dematerialize from underworld to appear on the surface world again. She is so happy that she isn't even worried about the tributes Khaos is going to demand in the future…
And so it ends…
I'm sleepy yet hungry, waiting for my breakfast, and so I'm not making much sense even to myself. I loved your reviews. They motivated me to study hard.
I love you, period. I'm off to stuffing my face with food…