Eros

Where should I begin this story!

It’s a burdensome order. No matter how many times I take deep breaths, it doesn’t help much. 

Though buzzing around like a bee in a flower garden is supposedly my specialty, this isn’t really my business. Nor is it an issue between people close enough for me to casually intervene. Though I’ve certainly heard the names of these two individuals, or rather two deities.

I should start from the very beginning. Any story needs to be told from the start to make sense through to the end. As a cautionary note, I haven’t personally witnessed everything I’m about to tell you. 

Most events I saw with my own eyes and were involved in, but some parts were brought to me by birds and butterflies. How could I have hidden myself in conversations between the king of the heavens and the ruler of the underworld? 

But just as in the human world, there are no real secrets in the realm of gods, especially when Zeus had little intention of keeping things private.

First, everything began when Hades visited Olympus. Hades dwells beneath the skin of the earth, in an underworld so deep and eternal that even we gods hesitate to set foot there. 

Even on those rare occasions when she ventures outside the realm of the dead, she conceals herself with an invisible helmet. Consequently, surprisingly few gods have actually seen her. When young deities occasionally express curiosity about her appearance, Zeus would mischievously smile and say:

“You’ve never seen Hades? Perhaps you’ve met her but failed to recognize her?”

Back then, I didn’t understand what he meant. I just tilted my head wondering if the death goddess looked different than imagined, perhaps with red hair and yellow eyes.

Anyway, rumors of Hades rising to the surface were interesting but not particularly surprising. The Giants had been causing considerable commotion for the past fortnight. Their struggles from below made Mount Etna heave and spew lava like an iron lid about to burst. 

Everyone was watching the situation carefully. It seemed only a matter of time before the earth would crack like an egg and the Giants would emerge. If even we on cloudy Olympus were concerned, how much more would Hades be, ruling the underworld below? 

If giants tore open the earth’s skin letting sunlight pour into the underworld, how could she maintain the separation between life and death? 

So naturally, she would leave her domain out of concern for this problem.

The issue was that Zeus had summoned Hades, his brother and youngest sibling. Hermes, the messenger, barely manages to travel to and from the thousand-fathom depths where this sibling endures. 

Now that the underworld dweller had finally surfaced, it would be a good opportunity to see her face or ask after her well-being. But Zeus’s playfulness became the origin of everything!

Why did he have to bring up such a topic?

I learned about Hades’s secret and their conversation because of my mother. When she summoned me with a rage that seemed to tear her apart, I was sitting on a white cloud over the Aegean Sea, polishing my arrows.

“How dare they!”

Mother looked ready to breathe fire. Her amethyst-like purple eyes blazed with flames hot enough to make lava step aside, and her milk-white cheeks were flushed with excitement. 

Her attendants had already fled, leaving only my mother and her anger in the chamber decorated with flower-like silks.

“What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong, you ask?”

Mother mockingly repeated my words. Though she’s my mother, her temperament when heated isn’t something I’d boast about. I handled it with practiced ease by not talking back.

When I didn’t provoke her further, she circled the chamber once, trampling wool, rose petals, and frankincense. Then she filled a crystal glass with wine and drank it in one gulp. 

By this point, she would typically explain what happened. I kept my hands clasped behind my back, pretending to be an ignorant shepherd boy.

“Do you know what that old maid is saying at Olympus right now?”

Mother finally spoke first. Of course, that was natural since she had called me to tell me something. Though young and her son, my intelligence is no less than Hermes’. 

But this time, I couldn’t quite grasp what she meant. That old maid?

“Old maid?”

“She dared to refuse my girdle even if offered for free! How dare that old maid who embraces nothing but dead bones and ghosts insult me like this? I’ve never once mocked her, and we’ve gotten along well without crossing paths, yet she shames me like this?”

I remained confused. I heard mentions of dead bones and ghosts, but my biggest question was about this “old maid” label. Though Olympus has no shortage of virgin goddesses, my mother had never disparaged them. 

Mother poured more wine into her empty glass and collapsed into her throne. I approached cautiously.

“Who are you talking about? I really don’t understand.”

“You don’t understand?”

Mother turned to me with an expression of disbelief.

“You truly don’t understand? What other block of wood lives secluded in the underworld with corpses and ghosts as lovers? Who else but Hades?”

“What?”

I was the one in disbelief!

“What are you saying? How could Hades be an old maid? Isn’t Hades the king of hell and Zeus’s brother?”

“Oh, my goodness, my son, you didn’t know either?”

Mother pressed her apple-blossom-beautiful hand to her forehead, clearly thinking me a fool. I felt offended momentarily but didn’t talk back. Anyway, I was becoming increasingly drawn into this situation.

Mother sighed and lowered her hand. Her shining golden-red hair rippled down as she did.

“How foolish! Hades is a goddess. She was never a man to begin with. Think about it. What man would voluntarily descend to the underworld where not a speck of light enters? To a realm of ghosts without the sweet flesh of living women or the passionate pleasure of bodily warmth? When the brothers divided the sky and ocean between them, they urged their eldest and youngest sister to go underground. Then, wanting humans to worship death, they changed her name to Hades. If even you with your divine perception were completely deceived, how much more so those foolish humans?”

“Really? Hades is… a goddess?”

This was jaw-dropping news. Something I’d never even imagined! 

Suddenly Zeus’s cryptic smile flashed in my mind, and the pieces began to fit together. If Hades were a goddess, even without her cap of invisibility, no one would recognize her. 

They would pass by thinking she was just an unfamiliar goddess, one they’d never seen before, or some minor deity with authority over an obscure corner who rarely set foot on Olympus!

“Yes! Though everyone kept quiet about Zeus’s doing, pretending not to see or hear, this is different. My name was mentioned and my power kicked aside like a trivial acupuncturist’s. I absolutely cannot let this slide.”

I could only hear the full story after my mother had calmed down somewhat. What a peculiar accident this seemed to me!

Zeus summoned his sister after a long time, and what could Hades do but comply? 

Even the notoriously shy Hades had no choice. She arrived at Olympus in a chariot pulled by two horses, one black as death and one white as bone. 

But then Zeus, for whatever whimsical reason, suddenly began lecturing Hades, who was already troubled enough by the Giants’ struggles. And of all things, he told her to get married!

Hades apparently bristled at this unexpected interference. I would have too. Then Zeus seems to have deliberately provoked Hades in the way brothers typically do to sisters. Mentioning my mother’s girdle, saying he would lend it to her so she could capture any man she desired. 

Even to a child like me, it was clearly not meant kindly. So Hades, being siblings with Zeus, wouldn’t simply let it pass. She said something like she would throw away my mother’s girdle even if given for free, and wouldn’t even wear it on her feet… 

Their verbal sparring continued for quite some time, and that’s how it leaked to enough ears that even my mother heard about it.

Honestly, I couldn’t believe the conversation was as clear-cut as scripture carved in a temple. Don’t you think? 

Mother didn’t directly hear the two arguing, and who knows how many ears and mouths the story passed through before reaching her. 

Even gods make mistakes. Some gods particularly enjoy conflict and commotion. They probably didn’t invent something from nothing, but a few exaggerated provocative words to scratch my mother’s pride… oh my.

I just rolled my eyes while looking at my mother. What could I possibly say to intervene with my mother so enraged? That would be like pouring oil and hay onto a forest fire.

Suddenly silence fell. Mother firmly closed her mouth, narrowed her eyes, and glared into empty space. I had a bad feeling.

“Well, let’s see that pretty face of hers.”

And my intuitions rarely prove wrong.

“Come, son. I won’t be satisfied until I see her myself.”

I ended up following my mother to Mount Eryx like a bull with a nose ring.

Mother and I waited for Hades on a rose-colored cloud. The path from Olympus to the underworld is obvious, and since Hades isn’t the type to capriciously abandon the fastest route, finding a spot wasn’t difficult. 

Sure enough, just as a nightingale in the poplar forest finished its sudden song, the sky split open and a terrifyingly black shadow appeared. It was a two-wheeled chariot pulled by two black horses with dragon-like massive bodies and eerily long, straight legs. 

Atop it sat a deity in black clothes that looked woven from darkness, holding the reins. I narrowed my eyes to see better. Was it really Hades? Was she truly a goddess?

Unlike my mother’s chiton, which was tailored to fit her body perfectly revealing her figure without filter, Hades was completely wrapped in a black cloak so thick my mother wouldn’t even use it as a curtain. 

Occasionally the cloak fluttered in the wind, but underneath was just an equally dull and baggy old-fashioned tunic. Mother looked her over and clicked her tongue in disbelief. But Hades’s exposed face and hands holding the reins were translucent enough to rival white-armed Hera. 

Though she was clearly pale even in the afternoon sunlight, probably from always being underground.

“She’s handsome.”

“What?”

Mother turned with sharp eyes at my inadvertent comment. My mistake, of course.

“I mean, it’s not strange everyone thought she was a man. She’s tall and thin, with that impressive cloak…”

“Enough. Stop it.”

Mother waved her hand with an expression of disgust at my skillful excuses. I sighed deeply like a wrongly accused son. Of course, my gaze remained fixed on my mother. I didn’t miss how she narrowed her eyes while staring at the descending Hades.

What kind of revenge was mother planning? How could she possibly get back at the goddess of death?

Think about it, this was one god seeking revenge on another. Not something that happens often, but not unheard of either. But no one had ever challenged the ruler of the underworld. Or rather, couldn’t. 

Even Zeus frequently quarreled with his wife and sister Hera, with revenge upon revenge piling up, and our mother also with Hephaestus— no, better not mention that story. 

Anyway, my point is that no bold god or irreverent human had ever attempted to trick Death.

Who would dare? Me? I’d rather just be scolded. I mean, she’s the goddess of death! What good could come from getting on her bad side? 

Besides, how could anyone take revenge on the underworld queen who rules over death? What weapon could wound a goddess who meets no one, loves no one, and rules over all mortal beings while simply waiting for them?

Mother seemed to be thinking along similar lines. Though hot-tempered, she possesses sharp judgment. She often said nothing is more foolish than a meaningless attack. So mother kept her lips tightly sealed, watching Death returning to hell, searching for a weakness.

“Um, she’ll be entering the underworld soon. The chariot is getting close to the ground.”

“I know! Just be quiet, you’re distracting.”

The sky, which had been pale as snowflakes, turned pigeon-blue as we descended. I quickly stroked the cloud to follow Hades’s chariot. 

Hades turned into the Enna Valley. It was a beautiful place with abundantly blooming daffodils, waves of fragrance and gold. The black horses, black chariot, and black-clothed deity flying over a sea of bright yellow daffodils! It looked like a somehow wrong picture.

“Who’s that?”

“Pardon?”

Mother asked me while I was flaring my nostrils to smell the daffodil fragrance.

“There, in the middle of the flower field, that group of maidens.”

Indeed, in the middle of the yellow field were nymphs dressed in pink, green, brown, and blue. They looked like they were on a picnic. I could almost hear their giggling even from a distance.

“Well… they’re nymphs, aren’t they?”

“You fool! I’m not asking about the nymphs. I mean that beanpole sticking out like a tower in the middle.”

I put my hand above my eyebrow to block the sunlight. This cleared my vision.

“Oh, you mean the one in the crimson tunic with the pink peplos? Now I see. She is incredibly tall. Doesn’t look fat, but certainly big. What a truly horrible color combination though. Crimson with pink? Yuck.”

“Can you recognize who it is?”

“No, the peplos is wrapped around like a hood so I can’t—oh.”

That was the exact moment. The maiden who stood out like a peacock among quails suddenly began lowering the pink peplos that had covered her head. As the horrible pink slid down, surprises kept coming. 

Golden hair shimmering like coins, smooth skin full of vitality, a nose as sharp as Athena’s spear, an unbelievably distinct jawline… and even a protruding Adam’s apple below!

“That’s a man!?”

I jumped up in shock, forgetting I was spying. My goodness, what was happening!

In the middle of a paradise-like daffodil field, a young man in pink and crimson chiton dressed as a woman, surrounded by dozens of nymphs? 

Not even the lustful Zeus had attempted such a situation! I couldn’t understand who this person was to enjoy such ridiculous luxury.

“Ah, Demeter’s only daughter! I’ve long heard about this!”

Mother burst into laughter.

“Yes, I’ve been quite displeased with this spectacle too. A son is a son, a daughter is a daughter, but what is this bizarre display? Raising a boy as a girl because of some half-baked prophecy that amounts to mere wordplay…”

“What? That person is a daughter?”

“No, you dimwit. Where in the world would you find such a strapping daughter? Demeter cherishes her late-born child so much that she’s raising her perfectly normal son as a daughter. All because of some… insignificant prophecy she’s frightened of.”

Mother laughed so hard that her cheeks flushed with excitement rather than anger. Even at this point, I still couldn’t predict what mischief had struck my mother’s mind like lightning.

“Humans, you know. Those blind, deaf, foolish creatures praise the beauty of Demeter’s virgin daughter! Isn’t it my duty as the overseer of beauty to correct this?”

“I… suppose so?”

“Then, my lovely son.”

Mother looked down at me with a bright smile. Though she’s my mother, at times like this she’s so beautiful it momentarily dazed me. But with the enchantment came equal anxiety. She was clearly about to issue some terrible, unreasonable command.

Mother raised her elegant goose-like arm and stretched out her hand. Toward Hades’s chariot, which had descended low enough to be reflected in the lake of Enna Valley.

“Now, since Hades dared to mock your mother, let’s make her pay the price. Shoot your golden arrow so she burns with first passion, cursing herself with desires that can never be fulfilled.”

“Who am I shooting at?”

“Who else?”

Mother raised the corner of her mouth and moved her finger. Toward that Kore, who was strutting like a stag among the nymphs.

“Really? Are you serious?”

I jumped again, almost slipping off the cloud.

“You want me to make Hades fall for Demeter’s daughter, or rather son? That would… make things escalate too far!”

“Hmph, what does it matter? No one will know it was my doing anyway. An aging old maid might suddenly be overcome with lust upon seeing a fresh young man, like an apple. Her brothers cause commotions every other day. Come now, don’t make me repeat myself. I absolutely hate that. Shoot your arrow, before it’s too late!”

Well, what could I do?

With mother kicking at my quiver and demanding I take up my bow, how could I, her powerless son, resist? 

But until the moment I selected an arrowhead, I agonized until my head felt ready to burst.

‘Mother is furiously angry, but Hades is Zeus’s sister and the ruler of the underworld. What if I’m reprimanded for this reckless arrow play?’

Wouldn’t you feel the same? Mother was triumphant, insisting we’d never be caught, but what if someone did notice? 

Hades, who had never loved anyone or brought anyone to her bedroom, suddenly falls for Demeter’s carefully hidden only son? Hmm, even I would suspect myself.

But I couldn’t openly defy my mother either.

“Oh, gods.”

I sighed like a human and decided to leave everything to fate. With closed eyes, I shot the first arrow my fingers touched at Hades.