Page 34 of His in the Dark

Who would not want to know that their pain had been avenged? Who would not want to see their enemies vanquished, once and for all?

The Gods know I would relish both.

“There is no need to feel conflicted within yourself, my queen. I can offer you the balance you seek.”

Persephone lifts her chin. “You speak of balance, but you are still the God who?—”

“Who rescued you from danger. You must have known that there was no safe harbor for you on Olympus.”

“I knew no such thing,” she says with certainty, but the volume of her voice gives her away. It is obvious to anyone that Persephone was keeping secrets when she dwelled in the home of the Gods. She would not have craved my presence, would not have accepted it, if she had not been afraid. If she had not known she was near a precipice of abandonment.

They did not want her as she was. I crave her as she is presently and as what she will become.Mine.

“You will come to know it,” I say, mildly. “You will come to see that you could seek the balance I speak of. It will not take you long, my queen, to see that I am the one who holds it.”

“Balance means nothing,” she says, though there is a note of curiosity in her voice. Persephone may not believe me now, but she will see. I will make her see. “Imbalance fuels the cycles of what must be.”

“What does balance mean to you? Tell me.”

“Life,” she says softly. “Mylife. And with it death.” She states and then seems to hesitate, to ponder on the world. My lips threaten to lift in an asymmetric grin. It’s telling, her pause.Where there is life, there will be death. And she should rule both. She is destined for it, I know it.

“Your life was not balanced. It was rotting where it lay in the ground. You could not see this because you were not willing to see, but I did, and I intervened. Now I offer you true balance. Your powers, and the heads of those who betrayed you delivered on platters for your amusement.”

Persephone’s mouth drops open, her lips parting slightly. All she must do is allow herself to taste what I am offering, the way she allowed herself to taste the delicacies I brought for her. Once she knew the flavor of power, and the flavor of revenge, she would want to glut herself on it. She would find her place of belonging. Where she is meant to be.

“I—” She begins, her hands trembling. “I do not want heads on platters.” She stresses the statement although her eyes stay wide with shock. “I do not want to kill for amusement. You are the one who judges. You are the one who sends souls to suffer for eternity.”

Persephone’s eyes meet mine, suspicious. As if I guide my realm for my own amusement. As if judgement is a child’s game.

“You do not know of what you speak,” I grit out, not so much insulted by her statement, but more so disappointed with her lack of education.

“You have not told me the truth.”

“You have already chosen to believe the lies of others and the lies you tell yourself so you may have what you seek rather than what you are destined to own.”

“Why should I not believe others when you’ve done this?” Persephone cries. “You brought me here. You will not let me go. I am no different from the infinite other souls who?—”

“Youaredifferent.” I did not mean to raise my voice, but I must—the anger has burned too hot in me, and Persephoneis too close to ignore the heat of her accusations. “You are my queen. And I am not a jailer for every soul who enters my realm.”

“But—”

“Those who do no good are condemned to a thousand years of reflecting on their misdeeds.”

“That is harsh. That iscruel,” Persephone argues and once again her eyes widen. She has much to learn and the thought strikes a new kind of detest through me.

“It may be cruel, but it is fair. These souls turned their backs on others, so they should be forced to suffer as well. They are left with their thoughts and their memories, looking into the truth of how they failed until they turn their back on themselves.”

“And what happens then?” Persephone demands, her voice shaking. “What happens to those who cannot save themselves? Who cannot right their wrongs? Sometimes they know not what they do.”

She is thinking of herself. Persephone is young and does not wish to see the truth of her circumstances.

But my words are striking a chord in her. I can tell they are burrowing deep into her mind.

I can tell she will think about them when she falls asleep at night and when she wakes in the morning.

I can tell these thoughts I am planting will only grow.

I can tell she is thinking of herself as a soul condemned to a thousand years of hopelessness, but she is not. She is blessed with a thousand years of power.

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