Hadeia

I won’t bother explaining how much Thanatos pestered me. With Hypnos occasionally chiming in from the side, he was more assertive than ever.

“We should throw him out, even if it means throwing him over our shoulders! How can we keep a fully grown young man here? Especially Zeus’s child!”

He was entirely prepared to use force. If I gave the slightest signal, he would rush to deliver an iron-like chop to Persephone’s well-formed nape. 

Hypnos offered his assistance from the side, suggesting he could plunge the boy into a sleep so sweet and deep that he would never want to wake, allowing us to carry him across Elysium, over the five rivers, and through the dark tunnels without him noticing a thing.

I cut them off immediately.

“Do you think Zeus is my concern? His children are more numerous than grain kernels fallen on a harvested field. He has too many seeds scattered about to worry about each one individually. The problem is Demeter. How could we handle using our powers carelessly on Demeter’s one and only precious child? Whether we knock him unconscious or put him to sleep, who would carry that child all the way up the thousand-mile journey to Enna Valley?”

My realm lay beneath Demeter’s earth. Though we hadn’t shared a table since I descended to the underworld, we were sisters. I had essentially stolen a jewel from her palm. Therefore, until I safely returned that jewel to its owner, I couldn’t allow any harm to come to it.

Hypnos yawned and averted his gaze. Thanatos stamped his foot.

“Then what do you intend to do? Word is already spreading that you’ve abducted a bridegroom!”

“I abducted what?”

“A bridegroom! A beautiful young man with Apollo’s golden hair, young like a daffodil and supple like a willow! Even the dead souls are whispering about it below, and that youngster is running around every corner of the palace!”

My head throbbed. I furrowed my brow, hoping young Persephone would magically disappear.

“He’ll lose interest soon enough. What entertainment could a child from the land above, with countless things to see and do, find here? More importantly, are you all following my order not to give him anything to eat?”

“Of course. Who would disobey your command? Besides, if we mistakenly fed him even a single pomegranate seed, we might have to live with that thundering brat forever. Nobody wants that.”

I answered by turning my attention to the list of the dead. Work had piled up considerably. 

Ever since Persephone stubbornly insisted on staying in the underworld, everything had been chaos and disorder. The rules and routines that once turned like well-oiled gears had become irregular and unpredictable.

Hypnos bowed with half-closed eyes and withdrew. It was impressive that he had come to me before I summoned him. Someone should tell him about the duck feather stuck to the back of his ash-gray hair. 

Surely it came from his pillow. But it hardly mattered since he would soon collapse into his bed at his mansion. I dismissed him from my thoughts.

“At least try talking to him once more.”

Thanatos was more persistent than Hypnos.

“I told you I’m tired.”

“So you’ll leave things like this? The rumors about bridegroom abduction will grow like lettuce.”

Bridegroom abduction and marriage by capture. What preposterous notions, almost like borrowing Aphrodite’s girdle. 

I finally rolled up the scroll. Only then did Thanatos reveal his large teeth in a smile.

The child was still in the palace. Whether that was fortunate or not, I couldn’t say.

When I set out, he was lingering in front of the bone maze in the inner garden. He seemed to be contemplating whether the maze built among clusters of red spider lilies and asphodels was made of real skulls or cleverly carved ivory and marble. 

I paused for a moment, once again appreciating how wrong my captured prize had turned out to be.

He was an astonishingly beautiful young man. His skin was white like beach sand, overflowing with vitality like the foam of waves washing over it. The sharp, straight lines running from his forehead to his nose and chin revealed a classical elegance reminiscent of his parents. 

Both Zeus and Demeter were exceptionally good looking in their own right. This child seemed to have cherry-picked only the best features from his parents, decorated with honey and flowers. 

Though he still showed signs of youth, it wouldn’t be long before he became a more handsome young man than anyone.

His physique was also outstanding. He was tall and his frame was balanced like a Persian king’s stallion. His sleek muscles were flawless. 

While he didn’t have the robustness of a mercenary wielding a broadsword or axe in battle, being still young, his natural constitution was impressive.

‘And that golden hair? The gold coins in my treasury would lose their luster.’

And those curly golden locks like feathers! Though I had never envied blonde hair before, I could only admire his mane. 

Pure gold that refused to fade into straw color or strawberry red even in this dark underworld. I thought even the boastful Apollo would have to concede to Demeter’s son.

Of course, these were merely passing thoughts. What did I know about men or male beauty? 

Perhaps I had momentarily lost my objectivity. Persephone’s excellence would serve as an excuse for my mistake.

Persephone was indeed as beautiful as the widespread praise suggested. But it was certainly not the kind of beauty that would make him appear like a fragile young lady. How did I mistake him for a maiden? 

I wondered if there was something wrong with my eyesight. Even setting aside the contextual confusion provided by the abundant flower field and chattering nymphs, the child was a grown young man, justifiably annoyed at being called Kore.

I noticed his once bright red chiton had become somewhat more dignified in color, soaked with dust and soot. There was still unwiped ash next to his left ear, right beside where his wavy golden hair fell. It gave me an idea of how much he had been poking around the palace. 

But for that very reason, the minimal femininity that Demeter had tried so hard to create had disappeared like his peplos. Even the androgynous fragility of adolescence was dangerously fading. 

Though now a beautiful young man like a single daffodil, he would soon become a strong and handsome man. I didn’t know how long Demeter could prevent that.

He suddenly turned his gaze from the skull with a crack in one eye socket that he had been staring at. It was a very awkward moment. I could only stand there uncomfortably.

“Aunt!”

Fortunately, his childlike sociability helped navigate this difficult situation. Persephone raised his hand brightly, acknowledging me. 

Then, perhaps realizing his greeting wasn’t quite appropriate for the queen of the underworld, he smoothly transitioned into a bow, bending his knee in one fluid motion. I approached with a mature nod.

Before I could speak, the child narrowed his bright blue eyes and moved his head back and forth before asking: “Are these real bones?”

Though I had anticipated the question, I couldn’t help finding it amusing. I had never heard such a trivial question before. I almost laughed before answering, but managed to hold back. 

Me, laughing? That would be more terrifying than death itself.

“What do you think?”

“They look real.”

Then, shrugging his broad white shoulders, he added: “Though I’ve never actually seen bones before.”

I’m sure he hadn’t. His mother would never have allowed him to see such harsh sights.

“Then whose skulls do you think they are?”

“Adventurers, of course.”

“Why would adventurers leave their bones in my garden?”

“Because it’s an honor. If it were me, I’d want to lie right here.”

He rose on his tiptoes and pointed to the top part with his finger. His eyes shimmered with desire too dense to be just a joke. What would make such a vibrant child envy what might be fake remains? 

I didn’t know how to respond to this strange passion.

“You admire adventurers, I see?”

“Yes. It’s natural for a man. Someday, I want to explore and experience the whole world myself.”

The hope that emerged without hesitation was a sentence polished over a very long time. It was a determined will rather than a simple impulse or an empty fantasy that might change several times a day. 

Adventure. Suddenly, I had an idea of how to handle him.

“Do you know how many have escaped from the underworld?”

“Escaped?”

I tried my best to speak in a snake-like, seductive tone. It wasn’t easy. Neither before nor after sitting on the underworld throne had I ever attempted to flatter someone or win their favor. 

I was extremely nervous about whether my awkward words would have any effect on Persephone. 

Fortunately, the child turned to me willingly and stepped onto the net I had laid out without hesitation.

“Let me think. None, I suppose? Hermes comes and goes with your permission, so strictly speaking that’s not escape, and besides him… no one, I think.”

“That’s right. If I wish to keep someone here, no one dares to escape beyond the underworld.”

The child was staring at me with wide eyes. Such blue, such large eyes. I inwardly stuck out my tongue. They were almost mirror-worthy.

“But what if… Demeter’s son dared to escape the underworld? Have you thought about how astonished the world would be?”

I could never admit that what I had done was a mistake. Although my close associates seemed to have noticed, the difference between acknowledging it myself and not doing so was enormous. 

How could I admit that I had stupidly brought back a son when I meant to abduct a daughter? 

For a god, face was absolute. At least for a god who ruled over a power as heavy and fatal as death.

However, I couldn’t allow false rumors about marriage by capture to spread unchecked. What if they reached Demeter’s ears? What if Zeus found out by chance? The abduction alone would cause considerable strife, but if rumors about me taking his virginity got mixed in? 

The battles against our father and the Titans would seem like child’s play in comparison. The mere thought made my head split with pain.

So it was better to return the child by mutual agreement and praise the spring maiden for bravely escaping the underworld. The honor of the underworld would be restored eventually. 

How many fools would be brave enough to jump into the underworld just because Demeter’s daughter had emerged alive? That level of stupidity would warrant death.

I examined Persephone. If he agreed, I planned to give him some excellent trophy and send him on his way immediately. If he wanted, I would even break off a branch from the silver poplar surrounding my throne. 

But the child was still staring at me with a stubborn expression without the slightest hesitation.

“No.”

“You can say you escaped. I’ll match whatever story you want to tell. Whether you were locked in an underground prison or tied up in front of Cerberus. Didn’t you say you wanted to be an adventurer? There’s no better opportunity than this.”

“If made-up stories could make me an adventurer, I would have become one hundreds of times already. No.”

“Do you know that not just anyone escapes the underworld? You said it yourself, didn’t you? Even Hermes cannot come and go without my generosity. This is the underworld, a thousand, ten thousand fathoms beneath the earth. Just escaping from my grasp would be a heroic tale forever on everyone’s lips. What more do you want?”

“No matter what you say, I refuse. I won’t go back to my mother.”

“Persephone!”

“No matter how angry you get, my answer remains the same.”

The child folded his arms defiantly and turned his head away. Rather than being genuinely offended by my proposal, his attitude suggested he was secretly enjoying my frustrated reaction to his refusal. 

How annoying! 

I gritted my teeth. I had no idea how to handle this troublemaker!

I said nothing more. Any proposal would receive the same answer. What good would arguing with a child do for my dignity? 

I stared at Persephone for a moment. I could see his handsome lips twitching, anticipating my reaction. I had no intention of playing along with what this troublemaker wanted. With work already piling up, why should I dwell on an issue that wouldn’t be resolved?

I turned away from Persephone. In truth, I felt like a teacher threatening to stop playing along, but I hoped others would see it as Hades-like dignity.

A moment later, I heard a booming cry from behind me.

“And stop calling me Persephone! I have a manly name too, Persephius!”

Such a temper, without even telling me before! I was exasperated. So I had to stop and turn around.

“Persephius? Does your mother call you that?”

At the mention of Demeter, the child looked momentarily flustered. Just what I thought.

“Well… no. If my mother had been generous enough to give me a name as splendid as Persephius, why would she have raised me as a daughter?”

“So it’s a name you made up yourself. How absurd.”

“Why? What’s wrong with a man wanting a manly name?”

Persephone bristled immediately. Then he quickly approached me. His gaze held absolute trust, like a client pleading innocence to his advocate.

“You must have another name too, right? Not a male name. Your real name, I mean.”

“I am Hades. Do you think Hades is a child like you?”

“You couldn’t have been Hades from birth! Right?”

I should have answered no. Or simply ignored him and left. But I remained silent. Looking into those blue eyes brimming with heat, eyes of a child who feared nothing, somehow made it hard to breathe.

Since my descent to the underworld, no one had ever asked about my name. I was Hades. I could be no one but Hades. 

The moment Zeus grasped his lightning bolt and ordered me to go underground, the moment the goddess of justice Themis nodded her head—I became a male god, became hell itself, became Hades. 

Not once since then had I been called by any name other than Hades. Even my siblings who clearly knew who I was, what my real name was, never called me by it, not even in our most private meetings.

That’s why I wanted to forget. I didn’t want to remember at all. I wanted to believe I had been Hades, ruler of the underworld, from birth. Then sunlight, birdsong, and the morning star would never have existed for me at all.

“You’re the first person whom I told my real name to.”

Persephone, who had been carefully watching my face, whispered. His voice contained neither childish whining nor complaint. Only a calm, bone-deep pain rose to the surface.

“I’ve never told my mother or the nymphs I’ve spent my whole life with. Because… they wouldn’t understand. What this name means to me, how important it is—they would never know. If I had told them, they would have all laughed at me. Persephone, Kore, Demeter’s only daughter. That’s all I am, they’d say, and I could never be anything else.”

Yes, they would never understand. They wouldn’t know. They wouldn’t even want to know who you really are. 

My mouth went dry. I wanted to look away from him, but I couldn’t.

A son forced to grow up as a daughter his entire life. A young man whom the whole world praised as a pure and lovely virgin daughter. Confined in a paradise full of daffodils and primroses.

He was asking me who I was.

“Hadeia.”

At that moment, Persephius’s face lit up like the sun. His large blue eyes grew impossibly wider, and a pink flush bloomed on his milk-white cheeks. 

The child wore the expression of a pitiful beast meeting one of its own kind for the first time. It seemed he might embrace me and jump around, or burst into tears, or do something dramatic at any moment.

I swallowed dryly and added as I turned away:

“That’s who I once was. Not anymore.”

It was an impulse and a mistake. An unavoidable one.