She shuddered, rubbing her arms. “All were sent to Tartarus… No wonder death was so reviled. But now, death need not be feared.” She paused, looking thoughtful. “May I ask why three levels?”
How lovely she looked in the fading sunlight spilling into the room. Watching her, each graceful gesture, provided him endless fascination.
She regarded him now, waiting.
“Not all mortals live a truly honorable life. There are heroes, martyrs, noble leaders, and the like. Mortals are born with both good and evil within – they’re tempted daily. Too often mortal man succumbs to weakness. It is in their nature and, most of the time, not worthy of condemning them to Tartarus. Nor does it grant them an afterlife of abundance and pleasure, as Elysium offers. So Asphodel was created, for those in-between.”
She nodded, her gaze wandering to the parchment before her.
Hades sat at the other end of the table, his gaze returning to the top of her co
pper head, bent to study the open scroll.
She sat, her eyes never leaving the parchment. And as she read, her face changed and moved, reacting to the words before her. Such a face, such emotions. How would he manage when she left?
###
She hopped then ran a few steps to keep up with him. He glanced at her. She smiled brightly at him. His mouth twitched, but he did not smile.
“You need not run, Persephone,” he sighed, slowing his pace.
She shrugged. “I’ve missed running.”
She saw him smile then, though he was quick to erase it.
“What a glorious day.” Her every word revealed her happiness.
He nodded, his eyes wandering to her once more.
She let her hands trail, listening closely to the strange words. In time, she’d learn their language. It was not so different from that of the oldest trees. Yet some words made no sense to her; not yet.
They, however, had no trouble understanding her. She delighted in the abundance of the grass, the bloom of the bushes and ripening of Asphodel’s abundant wheat.
Every day they walked further, crossing the waving sea of Asphodel’s grasses. She was surprised they’d not reached any boundaries, but Hades’ realm seemed to stretch on and on, never ending. Her eyes searched the golden grass.
He skirted the shoreline, avoiding the rippling blue waters that separated Asphodel from Elysium, but she gazed across the water. Elysium lay, a green gem of an island in the distance. The sun seemed brighter there, bathing the land with the promise of warmth. Here, in Asphodel, there was always a hint of chill in the air.
“It looks a fertile land,” she murmured.
He turned to the water as he spoke, “It is always green, without being tended or worked. Fitting spoils for heroes and the like, is it not?”
“Can one enjoy an existence without some vocation?” She shook her head, glancing at him. “One would grow idle and bored, I think.”
Once more his mouth tightened, and he turned from her. She smiled, a slight sigh escaping her. Why did he still resist her? She knew he turned from her to hide his smiles.
Or perhaps her presence annoyed him? She did not like the doubt that flared within her Did he wish her gone? Was he enduring her presence?
She walked on, such thoughts more than unpleasant to her. She glanced back at him, wishing his features weren’t so fixed, that his control wasn’t so absolute.
His attention was elsewhere, so she followed his gaze. A black shadow, graceful and large, stood amongst the waving grasses. She narrowed her eyes, surprised to see one of Hades’ chargers grazing. “Oh.” She ran toward the horse.
“Be careful,” he called after her.
She laughed, slowing once the massive black head lifted. Coal eyes stared at her, but showed no signs of agitation. The beast flicked his ears twice then walked to her.
“It’s good to see you again,” she said. “I’d offer you an apple, if I had one. Alas, I fear you’ll gain nothing from me but a gentle touch.” She reached up, running her hand along the horse’s thickly muscled neck.
The horse stared down at her, his great nose blowing her hair as he investigated her thoroughly. She laughed.