“Tell me,” he said.
“The news,” she whispered. “There’s been a horrible accident.”
He didn’t seem surprised, and Persephone wondered if he’d already sensed the death.
“Come,” he said. “We will greet them at the gates.”
CHAPTER XIV – THE TEMPLE OF SANGRI
Persephone had often come to the pier to greet new souls who crossed the River Styx on Charon’s ferry, but this time, Hades teleported to the opposite side of the shore—to the Gates of the Underworld. It was cold here, as if the air from the Upperworld were seeping through the ground, but she hardly noticed because seeing the gates in person left her breathless.
They were as tall as the mountains they were built into and made of black iron. The bottom of the gates had been crafted into a line of narcissus, and from them sprouted spiraling vines decorated with flora and pomegranates, their raised edges glinted gold beneath the muted sky, which extended over their heads, but disappeared into a strange and terrifying darkness around them. Beyond the gates was a great elm. Persephone could feel its age, even from this distance. It was as old as Hades and its roots when deep, its limbs heavy with orbs of bright, bluish light.
“What clings to that tree?” she asked Hades.
“Dreams,” he replied, looking at her. “Those who enter the Underworld must leave them behind.”
There was a certain sadness that overtook her at the thought, but she also understood—there was no room for dreams in the Underworld because life here meant existing without burden, without challenge. Life here meant rest.
“Must all souls walk through these gates?” Her voice was quiet because, for some reason, this space felt sacred.
“Yes,” Hades answered. “It is the journey they must take to accept their death. Believe it or not, it was once more frightening than this.”
Persephone’s gaze met his. “I did not mean that it was frightening.”
He offered a small smile and touched her lips with his finger. “And yet you tremble.”
“I tremble because it is cold,” she said. “Not out of fear. It is very beautiful here, but it is also…overwhelming. I can feel your power here, stronger than anywhere else in the Underworld.”
“Perhaps that is because this is the oldest part of the Underworld,” he said.
A cloak appeared in Hades’ hands, and he shrugged it around Persephone’s shoulders.
“Better?” He asked.
“Yes,” she whispered.
In the next second, both Hermes and Thanatos appeared. Their wings were wrapped around them like a cloak, then they unfolded, expanding and stretching, nearly filling the space in which they stood to reveal a handful of souls. There were about twenty in total, all various ages, ranging from what Persephone guessed was a five-year-old to sixty-year-old. The five-year-old arrived with her father, the sixty-year-old with his wife.
Thanatos swept into a bow.
“Lord Hades, Lady Persephone,” he said. “We…will return.”
“There are more?” Persephone asked, her eyes wide, staring at the God of Death.
He nodded grimly.
“It’s alright, Sephy,” Hermes said. “Just focus on making them feel welcome.”
The two gods vanished, and as they did, the father of the five-year-old fell to his knees.
“Please,” he begged. “Take me but do not take my daughter! She is too young!”
“You have arrived at the Gates of the Underworld,” Hades replied. “I am afraid I cannot change your Fate.”
Before, Persephone might have found Hades’ words to be callous, but they were the truth.
She did not think it was possible for the man to look any paler, but he managed it and screamed, “You are a liar! You are the God of the Dead! You can change her Fate!”
Persephone took a step forward. She felt as if she were shielding Hades from this man’s rage.
“Lord Hades may be God of the Dead, but he is not the weaver of your thread,” she said. “Do not fear, mortal father, and be brave for your daughter. Your existence here will be peaceful.”
She turned her attention to the daughter then and knelt before her. She was adorable, small with blonde, curly pigtails and dimples.
“Hi,” she said, quietly. “My name is Persephone. What’s your name?”
“Lola,” the girl replied.
“Lola,” she said with a smile. “I am glad you are here and with your father, too. That is lucky.”
So many children came to the Underworld without their parents only to be adopted by other souls and reunited with their loved one’s years later. If these were the circumstances these two would suffer, she was glad they were together.
“Would you like to see some magic?” she asked.
The girl nodded.
Persephone hoped this worked as she scooped up a handful of the black dirt at her feet. She envisioned a white anemone—and watched as it effortlessly materialized in her palm. She blew out a breath, thankful, and Lola’s face lit up as Persephone threaded the flower into her hair.
“You are very brave,” she said. “Will you be brave for your father, too?”
The girl nodded, and Persephone straightened, taking a step back. Shortly after, more souls joined them, guided to the Underworld by Hermes and reaped by Thanatos. Before their work was finished, the small space was crowded with one-hundred and thirty people and one dog, whose owner had also made it into the afterlife. Persephone greeted many of them, and Hades followed suit. There were children and teens, young adults and older ones. Some were fearful and others were angry, only a few were unafraid.
At some point, Hades fingers slipped between hers and he gestured toward the gates, which were opening soundlessly to reveal the elm beyond in its fullness—beautiful and ancient and glowing.
“Welcome to the Underworld,” he said.
Together, they led the souls through the gates, and beneath the far-reaching limbs of the elm. As they walked, thousands of tiny orbs of light appeared and glowed, rising above their heads to settle on the leaves of the tree. The souls watched in wonder, not horror, not realizing that those small balls of light were the hopes and dreams they’d formed over a lifetime. Persephone felt immense sadness, watching it happen, but Hades squeezed her hand.
“Think of it as a release,” he said. “They will no longer be burdened with regret.”
She took some comfort in that and as they left the shelter of the tree, they came to a lush strip of greenery and a pier that stretched over the black water of the Styx. The bank of the River of Woe was covered in white narcissus blooms. Returning from the other side, was Charon dressed in white robes which ignited like a torch against the muted gloom of the Underworld. His powerful arms rowed the boat to port, and he grinned.
“Welcome, welcome!” he said. “Come, let’s get you all home.”
Persephone had never seen this process before, but she watched as Charon chose who was allowed into his boat. It was not even full when he decided that was enough.
“No more,” he said. “I will return.”
As he rowed away, Persephone looked to Hades. “Why did he not take more?”