Page 5 of His in the Dark

HADES

From the largest window of the tallest of towers in my privacy I can look out over the realms of the Underworld. Its arched facade is picturesque as I gaze onto all that I rule. Every soul I’ve met and assigned their fate resides beneath me.

I know of the rumors about the place where I dwell. Some of them have a kernel of truth. There are realms where souls go to be tormented, tortured and live forevermore in pain and agony of thoughts they can never escape. There are realms filled with many fears from their mortal lives—fire and darkness and hunger and cold. Tartarus is one in which screams carry across miles. The mortals that conceive of Hell would recognize those places, and some might even say that that is all the Underworld is.

They are wrong. Not every soul deserves to be tormented. Most souls are far more innocent than they know. When souls are judged, some of them deserve peace in the Underworld. Elysium lies on the other side of my world. There are realms with fair weather and greenery and other souls to smile at one another, to live in harmony and want for nothing. Where peace is the only existence. My court has made many judgments andthe number of people who deserve Hell is far smaller than the number who deserve heaven. As it should be, souls enter the Underworld through the River of Styx, they are judged and they meet their fate. Some may venture to the mortal realm, daring to risk where their judgment will lead them next… but only once they pass through the field that erases their memories.

I cannot do this alone, but my word is judgment. I am just and my decisions righteous.

The others who decide fates are considerate. But though they are the ones to weigh the deeds of the souls before them, this is my realm, and thus my final authority. It is my responsibility to see that they are not too quick to choose. In the realms that stretch out before my window in shadow and light, there are many regions for souls to go, and it is ultimately my decision to let them continue, or change their judgments.

All souls will cross my path and I will find justice for each and every one of them.

I know my judges took the necessary time. I know how it passes. Other gods choose to ignore the way ages rise and fall, but I do not. I see how it shapes the souls that come to stand before my judges. What they’ve been through and their perceptions do not always save them from the hells of this place, but I grant mercy where I can find it.

Many of the judges are wise, with experience behind the morality they find they must do. There is no greater evil in them, but there is more time, and more choices to make. That is the way of life for mortals.

They come, they go. Their souls remain for centuries. Very few destroyed. That is for The Fates, the three who clip the golden threads.

As I know, my grip on the iron rail tightens, I do not rule alone, but I am King of the Dead, Ruler of the Underworld.

And in this room of stone and fine cloth that covers the furniture, with dim lights of torches that crackle with the hiss of fire, I find myself quite lonely. I find time to be stagnant, moving yet not changing. I find this task that I’ve been given to be one of my own Hell. One I will never escape either.

Because we are all given what we deserve.

Although one soul who was judged today would undoubtedly disagree. His scream echoes off the ancient walls as I close my eyes and search for it. Most of the sounds can be ignored, as they are only the sounds of life as such carrying on in the Underworld.

Other sounds are reassurance that the worst souls who have been delivered to me are where they belong. They are a comfort to me as well as a reminder of what I suffered, though I do not allow my thoughts to travel to those memories if I can help it. The Titans ruled with pain and unjustly ruled with greed and sloth. They are no more and as I remember the pits I came from, I shut down the tortuous memories of solitude and craze. There is no need at the moment. Not when I am reflecting on another day of judgments and another day of ruling all that is mine.

If all goes according to my plans, more will be mine in a short time. I am not often impatient, but now that I am so close, it is impossible to ignore.

Because of her. Because of the one soul I must have. She must be mine in every way.

A creak behind me pulls my thoughts away from the stream of souls entering into the Underworld and back to my rooms.

“Fair and just, am I not?” I say, and turn. I knew from how Minox’s footsteps ricocheted with a heavy weight that it would be him, and it is. Minox is one of the three judges of the dead and my right-hand man. I trust him above all others. His black robe moves around him for a moment after he stops and inclines his head. The hood covering most of his face but his sharp blackeyes shining brightly. When he is motionless, it is harder to distinguish him from the shadows around him. In contrast, the guard he has brought with him is much more visible. This is not because the guard wears bright clothing, but because he does not have the patience to remain still before me. He tries, but he fidgets.

“My Lord. Zeus beckons you.” His voice blends with the shadows, too. The timbre deep and his tone barely heard. Many souls who stand before Minox fear him for this reason, but there is more to fear from a person who pretends to be something they are not.

“And what for?” I ask, arching a brow and daring the God of Thunder, The King of Gods and the ruler of Mount Olympus to call me. His arena is quite the opposite of mine. For he may play in the mortal realm but I rule after death and for all eternity.

With that thought, I watch more souls step foot on the Asphodel Fields.

Minox’s eyes flicker to mine, but they do not stay on my face. Perhaps he did not look at all. It could be a trick of the light. “He would not say.”

“I cannot leave.” I raise my hand in a dismissal of these summons toward both of them, knowing that the guard will understand my meaning, and begin to turn back to the window. “But send word that I will scry this evening,” I add and adrenaline races through me.

I know very well what he craves.

“My Lord.” Minox’s voice stops me. I turn back to him, my hackles rising. Minox has the standing to disagree with me, if he wishes. I count on him to do so when he believes it is necessary. But I do not care for the tone in his voice. “He stressed that it was urgent.”

My eyes narrow as I stare at the man who knows I am his liege.

Irritation burns inside of me, a dull anger at the slowly passing time. I do not relish the feeling.

I answer easily, “There is nothing that cannot wait, and I have little patience left for his beckoning. You may go,” I give the command to the guard, not Minox.

In actuality I have no patience left for his beckoning. Zeus thinks of himself as all-powerful, all-seeing, because he spends his days on Olympus. That is all well and good, but I am not lesser because the Underworld is my domain. There is balance in the realms. One cannot exist without the other. There can only be so many mortals alive at any one time, and so many gods. The number of souls never lessens. Our world is finite and includes all life.

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