Once, when I was ten, I tried climbing a tree, but the branch gave out from my weight. I landed on my arm and broke it. Finding me on the grass infuriated my mother. At first, she dried my tears and asked what happened; once I explained the situation, she screamed at me—saying how irresponsible that was and sulked through the ER visit.
Has anyone told you what it's like to free-fall? It's an odd experience. Your heart plummets to your stomach, and adrenaline floods your veins. But then a type of serenity washes over and calms you. I could breathe again.
I hoped that I wouldn't die once I hit the ground. I prayed for minor injuries—preferably no spinal or brain damage. Please, and thank you. Unobtainable, I know, but everyone has their own way of coping with their imminent death.
I fell for what seemed like hours. Immediately after I fell, darkness descended. Not a single ray of light shone in the chasm. It was just me, myself, and I. It was cold there, too—no light equals no heat, right?
Upon hitting the ground, I received no pain. I frowned but went with it. Maybe I didn't fall as far as I thought. Did the lack of light mean it was some sort of optical illusion? I got up and dusted off myself. Then promptly stumbled back onto my ass.
Did I discover a parallel universe or something? I didn't sit at the bottom of a sinkhole—but on a riverbank. Above me, a blue sky with a bright sun greeted me. There was real grass underneath my butt. Bone-white asphodels dotted the hills a few hundred feet away. The forest in Mississippi was nowhere to in sight. But eerily, the place remained utterly silent. Not a single bird, bug, or squirrel chirped, buzzed, or chattered.
Or... am I dead?
I reached over and pinched my arm. Nope, I felt that. I am definitely still alive.
Since I am stranded here, my first plan is to find shelter. Luckily, I landed next to a body of water. The water moved relatively fast, so I figured it was at least a little clean—still going to boil it, though. I couldn't see any trees close by, on the other hand.
A shouting voice caught my attention. I turned and saw a man rowing a gondola-type boat and waving at me. I sighed in relief and waved back. He can bring me to civilization! He had long and wavy, blond, salt and pepper hair and a huge, sparkling grin. He was in his early fifties, it seemed.
"Hello!" he shouted, banking the boat. "You're farther down the river than the rest, but that's all right."
I approached his boat and frowned. "You mean... there are others?"
"Well, yes! Many others— wait a second. You're not dead."
"Um, thanks, I guess."
"How did you get here? This is the land of the dead." His demeanor changed like he flipped a switch. Now, he was cold and almost angry.
"Lan-land of the dead? What do you mean?"
"This, daughter of Demeter, is the Underworld—as in the one from the Greek myths." Why did he call me 'daughter of Demeter?' Isn't that what Aidon called my mother earlier?
"You-you're joking! You can't be serious!" I stumbled back from the boat.
"Afraid not, daughter of Demeter. Hop in, and I'll explain." He gave me a grim smile and patted the side of the boat. I hesitantly climbed in and sat on one of the benches. "Daughter of Demeter, my name is Charon; I am the ferryman of the dead. I carry the dead across the River Styx, where a council judges you on where you belong in the Underworld. Since you are not dead, I will bring you to the king, and he'll decide what to do."
"Is this king nice? Should I be afraid?"
He grinned again. "No, daughter of Demeter, don't be fearful. He will not punish you if you haven't done anything wrong. Shall we get going, daughter of Demeter?"
I nodded tentatively. "Yeah, sure."
"Normally, I would charge you for this ride, but I'm feeling generous today. Don't tell my boss, okay?" he winked.
I cracked a smile. "Why do you call me 'daughter of Demeter?'"
"That's your mother, isn't it?" I opened my mouth to deny it, but he didn't give me a chance. He changed the conversation topic and began telling random stories, often going on a tangent and not returning.
He told me stories of people that he ferried, and what they told him—things or people that the dead left behind, their regrets, or even people they hoped to reunite with again. I don't think he stopped for air.
My nerves grew the longer we moved; would the king find me at fault? I didn't intentionally enter this place.
All too soon, he ran the boat onto the shore. I looked around and almost gasped. A magnificent palace stood a hundred feet or so away. It resembled the ones that I see in pictures of as a child. It was several stories high. Vines climbed the stone walls, and four sharp-pointed keeps brushed the clouds. There must be a hundred windows with spotless glass, guarded by curtains.
It was majestic and regal.
We hopped out, and the man led me to the tall doors. He opened them without hesitation, and I stepped inside the palace. As we trekked through the marble and velvet-covered halls, the staff stared holes into my clothes. I shrunk under their gazes, and I dropped mine to the floor.
Eventually, we stopped in front of doors with stereotypical guards. Charon greeted the guards, "Hello, gentlemen. I need you to tell His Majesty that I have something urgent for him to see. Oh, please mention that it's me."
They nodded in unison and disappeared into the room. They returned with a different man; he loomed over us. The man had dark skin and long, equally dark hair. His golden eyes bore into me, but he immediately broke into a grin. My fear eased a little.
Is this the king?
"Hello! What's your name?" I blinked in surprise. "The last we had someone living in the Underworld was a few millennia ago!"
"Oh... okay. I'm Calantha."
"Calantha, you say? What a beautiful name!"
"Thanks, I guess." I noticed how he did not reciprocate the question.
"She's a daughter of Demeter, you know," Charon spoke.
"Oh, I'm actually not—"
"Nonsense! Of course, you are!" Charon looked at me like this was common knowledge.
"Daughter of Demeter, eh? Those are rare!" the tall man replied—still grinning. "Follow me, Calantha!"
"I have to get back to work. Bye, daughter of Demeter!" Charon waved to me as he left us.
"Bye..." These people are peculiar.
"His Majesty says that he will greet us in his study. Charon deemed you not a threat; he will meet you later—he said that he wants to finish his task first."
How did Charon tell the king that I'm not dangerous? They didn't speak. "Oh... all right then."
"Would you like to see our gardens? Being Demeter's daughter, and all."
I disregarded the daughter comment and nodded. "Yes, that's a wonderful idea."
He headed through the castle, and we stepped back outside. I took in everything—it was truly marvelous. We stood in a massive grove of pomegranate trees. Thousands of full, ruby fruits hung from the emerald-green trees. Their sweet aroma filled my nose.
I reached out to pick one. "Don't!" the tall man shouted.
I yelped and stumbled back. "I-I'm sorry! I-I didn't mean anything bad."
His voice softened. "It's all right, Calantha. It's just that if you eat or drink something here when you don't belong here, you can't return the living world."
"...What?"
"The king made that curse to catch people who don't have the right to be here." I nodded, my confusion growing. "Let's continue, yeah?"
I moved through the grove. Soon the trees grew sparser and sparser until there were none left. Ivory and green surrounded me. I blinked in shock—the flowers that replaced the trees were the same ones that I saw before the chasm opened at my feet!
"Who is in charge of the gardens?" I asked.
"The king himself. One of his biggest hobbies is gardening. The king employs those who were skilled botanists in their past life. There are less than a dozen employed. If the king doesn't send you back, you could have a job here."
I frowned, the fear coming back. "How do you know that I garden?"
"You are a daughter of Demeter—of course, you have an affinity for plants."
I wanted to scream in frustration. Why the hell do people think that I am the daughter of this Demeter person? I opened my mouth to yell that I was, in fact, not the daughter of Demeter; when he spoke before I could, "We should head back inside, Calantha. The king most likely finished his task by now."
I gritted my teeth and trailed behind the man who had started walking away. He guided me to a different part of the palace than earlier. "What do I do once I meet the king?" I asked, aware of my lack of etiquette.
"Don't lie���explain your story without fabrications. Curtsy once you're in the door. Call the king, 'Your Majesty,' first, then move onto 'sire.' Don't turn your back to him, ever. Act respectful, and you'll be fine."
I nodded, memorizing his information. My nerves rose, and I swallowed the knot building in my throat. "Do you think I'll be okay?"
He grabbed my hand and squeezed it. "Absolutely. You didn't open the Underworld and jump into the hole. It was a complete accident."
I tilted my head. You know that part in 'The Great Gatsby' when Nick can tell that Gatsby is lying by the way Gatsby choked on his words? Well, that's what this man did—he coughed when he said 'accident.'
Does he not believe me?
I brushed that thought away; the cough doesn't mean anything.
I inhaled to steady myself. "Ready?" the man asked.
I blew out the breath. "I think so."
The man pushed the door open. I took a step and curtsied immediately. I wobbled on the way down, and I prayed it was enough. A gasp resonated through the room, followed by something hitting the floor. I snapped my head up, worried. I tripped, flabbergasted, but caught myself.
The man seated at the large desk was none other than Aidon. I felt weightless, and dizziness replaced the shock. The floor slanted, and I heard a chair screech. Hurried footsteps rushed toward me before black spots overcame my vision.
~~~
I woke up with something cradling me. Aidon's face peered down at me, concerned. I rolled my eyes. "Damn dreams. Please, let me be in peace."
Aidon smiled his familiar grin. Pain struck my heart; oh, how much I miss him. "Magnolia, it is me," he responded.
"Yeah, okay." I pinched myself to wake up.
Ow. I felt that.
"Magnolia, I am serious. You are certainly not dreaming."
"You-you're telling me that this isn't a figment of my subconscious?"
Aidon brushed a strand of hair off of my forehead. "No, magnolia."
"So... you're the king of this place? And the sick family member thing is a lie?"
"Yes, I shall explain everything in a minute, but, first, please tell me why and how you are in my Underworld."
I sat up. "I am, honestly, not sure. I took a walk in the woods, and a chasm-like thing appeared in front of me. I fell into it. I met a man on a boat—Charon. He took me here."
Aidon frowned. "That is abnormal. Did you see anyone in the woods?"
I went over the memory. "Yeah! A woman with long black hair was there. She watched me fall."
He nodded. "That is Hekate. She is one of the gods residing here—who also happens to have power over the earth and the Underworld."
"Why did she make the chasm?"
"I do not know. Later, I shall ask. But, for now, are you hungry?"
I nodded. "Yeah. The last time I ate was this morning."
"Do you want to stand?" Aidon stood, and I took his outstretched hand. He helped me up, but I swayed. He grabbed my waist, and I wrapped my arms around him in a hug.
I buried my face into his chest. "I missed you so much."
Aidon kissed my hair. "I missed you, too—more than you could comprehend."
The grumbling of my stomach pulled me away. Aidon grinned, and my heart beat faster. We left his study, and Aidon guided me through the twists and turns of his palace. He brought me to the third floor and into a bedroom the size of my kitchen in Mississippi.
In the center of the room, against the wall, was a king-sized, four-poster bed with silk blankets. There was a door that led to the balcony and another door that held a walk-in closet; the third door I assumed was the bathroom. A couch facing a fireplace sat diagonal from us. It reminded me of his room back in Mississippi. "This is my bedroom. The third floor is for myself and important guests—like you."
I frowned. "Like me?"
"You are not leaving, correct?"
I blinked. "I-I haven't thought about it."
Aidon cupped my face, desperation flickering in his eyes. "Please. I can make you happy here. You can be my queen and rule with me."
I stepped out of his hands. "Queen?"
"Do not fret, magnolia. I will help you through everything. Please do not leave again." I could hear the worry in his voice, and guilt blossomed in my chest.
I don't want to be a queen, but I don't want to go back to my mother. I finally have the freedom to do what I want and to love whomever I want. "I'll stay, but I'll get back to you on the queen decision."
I can't even stand up to my mother—much less rule a kingdom!
Aidon pulled me into a sweet kiss. The tension in his shoulders faded beneath my fingers. I melted into him, euphoria dancing through my body. After he paused, the fire between us cooled. "I presume you want me to explain who I am and everything."
"Yes, that's ideal." He directed me to the leather couch.
He took my hands and smiled. "My name is not Aidon—that is an epithet. My name is Hades, and I am the king of the Underworld."
"Hades? As in that Greek god?"
"Precisely. The man on the boat is Charon, the ferryman of the dead, as you said. That river you sailed on—that is the River Styx. The man that took you to my gardens is Thanatos, the god of death, and is the man who escorts the dead to this realm. Hekate is technically a Titaness, but she resides over witchcraft and crossroads."
"When you met me, you said that your nephew was the one to name Spot. Who is that?"
"First of all, Spot's real name is Kerberos, and Hermes named him. Hermes is the god of travelers and thievery."
"So... everything that I learned about Greek mythology in high school is true?"
"Yes."
I blurted the question that was gradually eating me alive, "Why did you leave?"
He paused. "All right, I need you to remain calm at what I am to tell you next; can you do that?"
"Aidon—I mean, Hades—you're worrying me."
He ran his thumb over my lip. "Do not be unsettled. It is just something that will come as a shock. Do you remember that fight your mother and I had some two months ago? The one that you walked in on?"
"Yes. That's the first time that I heard someone call you Hades."
"Indeed. Well, the reason that I left is that your mother got in touch with your father—" I gasped, tears springing to my eyes. My mother told me that my father died before my birth. It's one of the reasons that I presumed she was so protective of me. "—and your father forbade me from seeing you, or he would de-throne me."
"Who-who is my father?" my voice cracked as a tear dropped. Hades whisked it away with the pad of his thumb.
"Your mother is not who she says that she is, either. Your mother is Demeter, the goddess of the harvest. Your father is Zeus, the god of the sky and king of the gods."
"I'm not, I'm not human?"
He shook his head. "No. You are a goddess. The goddess of spring and flowers."
A sob caught in my throat. "This-this can't be happening! This-this has to be a dream! God, I really should have gone to that shrink!"
I couldn't get the air out, and my heartbeat skyrocketed. I panted in and out, the tears relentlessly dripping down my cheeks and chin. My fingers and toes prickled with pins and needles. Hades cupped my face again, forcing me to look him in the eyes. "Hey, magnolia. I need you to breathe, okay? In and out; in and out."
He made a show of inhaling and exhaling—puffing out his chest and making loud breaths. I would have laughed in different circumstances. I matched my ragged breathing to his and slowly, and surely, my heart calmed, and my tears died down.
He brought my hand up to his mouth and pressed his lips to my knuckles. Then ran his thumb back over it. "There we go��nice and serene."
I kissed his cheek and smiled weakly. "Thank you. I don't know what came over me."
"Does that happen often? The hyperventilating?"
"...Yes."
He tucked some hair behind my ear. "There is no judgment here."
A knock at the door ripped me away from the conversation. Hades rose and answered the door. He exchanged words with someone before returning with a steaming tray. My mouth watered in anticipation.
I picked up my fork but remembered Thanatos' words. "Wait, I thought that I couldn't eat because I don't belong here."
"Typically, yes. But I have already declared that you have a place here. You may eat."
With the affirmative, I devoured the food in seconds. I noticed Hades watching me with amusement. "What?"
"Nothing, magnolia. You simply make me laugh."
The blood rushed to my cheeks. "I'm just hungry..."
His voice dropped to a murmur, "I am overjoyed that you are with me once again."
I smiled. "Me, too."
"Zeus will not be pleased that you are not with the mortals."
Zeus. My father. "Most likely. What will happen to us?"
He stroked my hair. "Hopefully, nothing since you pursued me, but I truly do not know."
"I don't want you to lose your kingdom because of me."
"I do not blame you, magnolia."
I gave him a chaste kiss. "I love you."
"I love you, too."
A yawn fought its way out—despite my best efforts. Those episodes always exhaust me. "Sorry..."
"Shall we go to bed? It is late."
"I, um, don't have any clothes to wear..." Hades got up and moved to the closet, ducking inside for a second. He returned with a shirt and some shorts.
"I hope that you do not mind wearing my clothes..."
"No, no, it's fine."
"Brilliant." I took the clothes from him. "You may change in the bathroom through that door."
I followed where he pointed and stepped into the bathroom. It was the size of my room back in Mississippi! There was a massive tub in the back of the room—it could fit at least three people. A glass walk-in shower stood to my left and a toilet to my right. Adjacent to the toilet, a sink with a gigantic mirror sat.
Not wanting to take too much time, I changed into Hades' clothes. The shirt hung off of my frame, and I had to tie the shorts to keep them on me. I inhaled and smiled—I liked that the clothes had his scent.
Is it creepy that I wanted to bottle it up?
When I walked back out, Hades had moved from the couch to the bed already. His eyes ran up and down my body, hunger glowing in his irises. Goosebumps raced up my arms, and I suppressed a shiver.
I joined him on the bed. Silence surrounded us—before I broke it, "What do you think my mother did when she realized that I went missing?"
"She almost certainly sought out Zeus' help, and I know he has not figured out where you are quite yet—because I would have a furious god at my heels."
"How do you think my mother is at this moment?"
"She probably went crazy, but I should hope that she calmed down by now."
"Have you met my mother? Calm is not in her vocabulary. I just hope she didn't get sick."
"Calantha, stop worrying about your mother. She will be fine; distance is sometimes necessary. You have to allow her to let go of her possessiveness. Yes, it will be painful for her, but also compulsory."
I sighed. "You're right. Let's just go to bed."
"Yes. Goodnight." He turned off the lamp on the bedside table.
"Goodnight."