Chapter 1: The Prophecy
Hades had ruled over the Underworld for thousands of years, watching as the souls passed the door of his realm. But lately, the Underworld had started feeling…boring. At first, Hades had occupied his mind with the likes of trinkets, gold, rubies and wealth….But it had gotten old rather quickly.
Hades was sitting on his throne, his finger tapping on his golden seat, the gesture almost mechanical. His eyes were wandering on the mortal souls that passed the gates of hell. He sighted. With time, it all had started becoming so mundane, so tedious, like days on loop, the same things unrolling in front of his eyes, over and over again. Almost senselessly. And he had that one thought then, that this used to be so much easier.
So long ago, he was given the ropes of the Underworld, or maybe rather, he was bound to it. He had found himself the Ruler of death, the King of barren lands, the Master of decay. His kingdom was extensive, and was one of ashes and ruin. It was the place where everything and everyone came to die. He was the God of everything that vanished. He was given the great role, or rather burden, to hold the Titans in Tartarus. And to deal with faulty mortals.
Hades’ reputation preceded him. He was the thing children were told about at night, the Evil to keep them in line. The shadows that squirt the world. The villain, the destroyer, the embodiment of death. Fear and dread followed at the mere mention of his name. Many may call it a curse, a life like his. And in many ways, it was. He was the Master of a game designed to fail. Mortals were flawed, the Gods cruel…And in the end, all were doomed by his hand. He was the figure of darkness that punished the sinful. And oh, were they all sinful, every last one of them. Hades was hated, in the same way death was feared…And this was his cross to bear. As such, Hades had never been shown a spark of empathy by anyone, so he had grown rather incapable of showing empathy himself. After all, how can you grant others what you yourself do not know? How can you be capable of kindness when you’re the one blamed for the world’s misery? You couldn’t, and the all powerful Hades was made cruel and intense, crafted by people’s very hatred. It was said there was a vice in his heart, or that perhaps, even, he had none at all.
Mortals were greedy, consumed by lust, defined by their sins. And for the longest time, Hades thought they were meeting with the fate they deserved, but perhaps, just like him, they too were part of an unfair game, being punished for crimes they were made to commit in the name of the Gods…In the very name of Zeus. A game that could never be won. They were puppets, whose strings were pulled into acting according to the Gods’ wishes, marionettes meant for mere entertainment.
And here he was now, asked to clean up the mess. This burden now his. But after all, who else but him could bear the darkness? Who could ever have the will to shoulder such a responsibility as his? Who could withstand it? And after all, he didn’t mind the darkness. After all this time, this was all he knew, the very fabric of his reality. Darkness brought him a strange sense of comfort. It spoke of home. Darkness…was a part of him. Rather even, it was him.
But with time, beyond the anger, beyond the simmering rage, beyond the scorching sorrow that was eating at him, he started perceiving another emotion. As he watched the pitiless mortals roam the Abyss endlessly he started to feel…pity. After all, maybe all of them didn’t deserve such a fate.
From his pity, an idea emerged. Maybe he should try to make the Underworld a city. He was the Ruler after all. Perhaps it was time for the Underworld to have more to offer than barren lands.
Perhaps he should build a palace, a home for himself and a place for the souls to rest. But no matter how many gold and trinkets he used to adorn the city, he couldn’t make it more than it was. He couldn’t make it the paradise he was envisioning. For at the end of the day, darkness will always be darkness, no matter how hard you try to hide it. Hades knew no comfort. All he knew was a cold throne and the scorching air of Tartarus’ fire….This defined his existence, and it consumed his being. And his touch carried nothing more than that.
At the end of the day, no peace could be found in the Underworld. It was a wasteland, lifeless, sunless. Nothing could grow or survive here. Only death…could thrive. Only darkness could rule. Oblivion was the only bliss the River Lethe could offer, the only solace Hades could grant the wanderers. Or perhaps, would it be more adequate to call it a curse? After all, those souls drifted aimlessly, and they could never ever lay to rest. Because there was no such thing as peace in Hades’ world.
Till one day….Something unexpected happened. A new prophecy appeared in the Book of the Gods. “To the Underworld, the Nymph Persephone, the Goddess of Spring, will descend. From wilted soil, one seed will grow. Darkness and Light will intertwine, forging an unbreakable bond.”
Hades was left dumbfounded. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of the prophecy. A young nymph, Goddess of Spring, fated to come to the underworld? This seemed senseless. Impossible. Impossible.
The land was sterile, dry, dead. So what could grow in the very soil where souls withered? Besides, wasn’t Demeter responsible for spring, so how come her own daughter, Persephone, was the one fated to the Underworld? He had never seen her before, but he had heard of her birth long ago. It had been quite the celebration, but of course, he hadn’t attended. After all, he wasn’t welcome in Olympus, so who would he? But he had, of course, heard of her beauty. The rumors hadn’t escaped him. She was said to have been blessed by Aphrodite herself, her beauty boundless. And Hades didn’t understand how come her fate wasn’t tied to Olympus. It should have been. Could it be…a mistake? This was surely what her mother, Demeter, would want for her after all. This was the fate for one as pure as she surely was. And yet….Here she was, her fate strangely bound to the Underworld. It was almost…mindless.
Hades dawdled in his thoughts for a long while. His steps, heavy, as he strolled along the River Styx. And that’s when he saw it, unmistakable, as it was foretold, a small sprout.
His eyes widened. A…sprout? An actual plant? In the underworld? Hades couldn’t believe his eyes. No sunray could ever reach the Underworld, and yet, this little seedling had someone managed to grow. He couldn’t help but wonder where it came from. This was suspicious, to say the least. The prophecy echoed in his mind, like a broken song he couldn’t escape. He leaned toward the feeble plan to examine it, kneeling in front of his, his finger reaching out hesitantly, as if not daring to touch it…As if a mere touch from his fingers would smother it and kill it instantly. Could it be…the Prophecy? After all, what else could explain its presence here?
A thought then emerged in his mind. Should he kill it? Uproot it? Overturning the Prophecy along with it. He considered it for a moment, but he felt a strange pull at his heart as he gazed at the little plant, a strange thread that tied over his heart, and he was unable to destroy it. He had never seen a single plant grow in the Underworld, so maybe that was why he was moved by its presence. And he thought that perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to have a single tree here. And he could only…silently, admire its resilience, growing where only death thrived. At the end of the day, perhaps a part of him was marvelled by its beauty….Perhaps, even more than that, a part of him craved for a spark of light in his world of darkness.
Hades smiled. If one mere name in a Prophecy could elicit such a thing as this, he had to say that it piqued his curiosity. Perhaps, he should wait and see what happens. Demeter certainly wouldn’t like it, but he felt the dire need to satisfy his curiosity. After all, he was the Lord of the Underworld. He could be greedy, could he not? If not him, then who could ever be?
He whispered her name, almost like a mantra. Persephone… This was definitely the name of someone he wanted to meet. It was a beautiful name. The name of a person that could never belong in his world, and it made it all the more intriguing.
PS: This story is a collaboration with my dear friend @simrankaurmalhotra9
