What of the situation above ground?
For the first time in ages, Hades ascended to the surface in a two-wheeled chariot drawn by black steeds.
O King of the Underworld, today of all days, you have forgotten the helm Kynei that conceals your form.
On Mount Eryx, Aphrodite reclined upon clouds and observed him together with her son Eros.
“My beloved son, look there. The ruler of Erebus, of all things, bares himself fully beneath the sun. Is he not a truly loathsome man?”
“Why is that?”
As Eros turned in curiosity, a pile of arrows clattered down from his shoulder. The boy god glanced over his shoulder at his empty quiver, furrowing his round forehead.
He had polished them until they gleamed, and now this….
Though they would vanish after a single shot, to him each one was a precious child. They were instruments of fate that bestowed love upon some and despair upon others.
Did mortals truly know that such a young boy wielded those fearsome iron tips?
“When we give love, Hades twists it into madness and leads it to death. That swarthy man must be the dullest being in the world. He hasn’t a scrap of emotion—would he even know the joys and sorrows of the world?”
Eros rummaged through the pile of arrows. Oh? What was this? A golden arrow he had thought spent remained conspicuously among them.
A golden arrow was love like flame.
The boy god dimpled playfully as he drew it out. First, he pressed the sharp iron tip with his index finger to check if it had rusted.
“Mother, then how about we test it? Whether that stolid Hades will truly go mad with love and stake his life, or not….”
“He is the god of death himself—would such a thing work?”
“Who knows? Does the god of the underworld not have a heart?”
Aphrodite hesitated and glanced sideways. Eros’s bowstring was already aimed at Hades’s chest.
“Whom shall I make his match?”
“Who would be good… Come to think of it, these days Demeter turns pale as a sheet the moment she sees me and flees in a hurry. Wondering why, I looked into it, and found a most interesting matter.”
It was astonishing. Demeter, famed for her chastity, had secretly borne and raised a daughter.
Rumor had it the father was Zeus, but no one could be certain.
“They say she dotes on the child, calling her Kore… hid her away on a remote island, commanding spirits to guard her day and night. They say any male that comes near, even a beast, is beheaded without mercy?”
Aphrodite snorted with laughter.
“Demeter, then as now… Does she think she can avoid your arrows by avoiding my face? I could spend all day clicking my tongue at such naivety.”
No more need to listen. Eros drew the bowstring aimed at Hades with all his might, then let his nocked fingers spring free.
Persephone.
The iron tip, engraved with the name of Demeter’s daughter, traced an arc as it flew.
The mist-shrouded valley of Enna was unusually eerie. Hades, whip in hand, felt a sudden stinging pain and placed his hand on his heart.
Why does my heart suddenly pound so?
Near the valley of Enna happened to be Persephone, the only daughter of Demeter, goddess of the earth and grain, viewing flowers with the wind spirits.
Especially the west wind, blowing from the west, breathed upon Persephone’s hair as she ran along the cliff, mischievously teasing her. Persephone shielded her eyes, flailing her hand at her fluttering hair, and burst into joyous laughter.
Even rugged stone mountains are destined to crumble before the harmony of Eros, god of love.
How could the heart of the god of death fare any better?
It was the very moment when Persephone, entranced by a narcissus blooming on the cliff, crouched and cautiously stretched out her hand.
Hades’s eyes, gazing down upon Persephone from the top of the valley, throbbed and widened.
He roughly shook the reins.
Hades’s hand, driving across the cliff, snatched Persephone’s slender waist in an instant. As the two-wheeled chariot rattled and shook, Persephone screamed with a face full of terror.
Poor Persephone cried out to her mother and companions to save her, but who would dare defy the god of the underworld?
Amidst bubbling lava, the entrance to the underworld yawned wide, split open with a groan. The black two-wheeled chariot, as if casting a sidelong warning to the trembling trees, disappeared deep into the earth.
Meanwhile, Demeter, realizing Persephone had vanished, called her daughter’s name in anguish. Yet nowhere could she find any trace of the girl.
She lost her mind and wandered the entire world. Forgetting even her divine duties, she wailed nothing but “Kore!”, crying only Persephone’s name.
Then chaos erupted upon the earth. The land withered, drought came, and grain would not ripen; all were on the verge of starving to death.
At this, Zeus, after deliberation, sent Hermes the messenger to Hades.
“Hades, the situation above ground is dire. It would be best if you returned Persephone to her mother.”
At Zeus’s command, Hades pressed his temples. He answered Hermes that he would do so.
But that did not mean he could send her back obediently. Persephone was now his wife and a goddess of the underworld.
Hades called Persephone and told her he would send her back to the surface. Persephone was overjoyed, as if she might leap.
Seizing that moment, he held out several pomegranate seeds in his hand. And, befitting the ruler of the underworld, he whispered in a voice deeper and more tender than anything in the world.
“The road is long and will be dull; will you not take at least this with you?”
Until now, Persephone had kept the door to her heart firmly shut, not letting a single drop of water or food from the underworld pass her lips. Yet at the thought of seeing her mother, a corner of her heart melted like spring snow.
Off her guard, Persephone agreed and popped a pomegranate seed into her mouth.
Not knowing that Hades was smiling in satisfaction behind her….
“And then?”
Beneath the ridge of steep Mount Parnassus, a campfire blazed, crackling. The milky river of stars flowing across the dark blue night sky was unusually vivid. Like streams of a goddess’s milk spilling from a jar.
“What became of Persephone? Did she return to the earth above and go back to her mother Demeter’s side?”
“Who can say?”
“Oh, come on, there you go again.”
“The hidden story is more important than what follows.”
The old man pushed a long skewer deep into the campfire as he spoke. The rabbit meat dangling from the end was roasting to a golden brown.
The East Asian girl, sitting with her legs folded, could not hide her curious gaze. The roaring campfire warmly illuminated the old man’s smile.
“Persephone, abducted by Hades… Did you know that this story was an event that actually occurred?”
“What? It can’t be….”
“It’s true. Myth merely twists it slightly to conceal it.”
“That’s absurd. Then those gods really existed in the past?”
“What is so absurd? We too exist here like this, even now.”
At the old man’s words, the girl looked up at the mountain peak shrouded in darkness. The sharp summit was chilling, like a lightning bolt struck down by the god of thunder.
The old man looked at the girl letting her imagination run wild and chuckled. One of his hobbies these days was telling her all sorts of stories.
They were in the midst of a long journey, and for him, who had always been alone, the fact that the night could be bustling was a pleasant experience.
“By the way, where did the other one go? Even if I start now, I doubt I can finish the story before dawn….”
“He went to get something from the ark. He has no interest in stories like this anyway. Just tell me first.”
The girl prodded the ground with a fire poker, urging him on. The fire popped, sending sparks flying as it flared.
“Shall I? Come, come a little closer. It is a very long, long story….”