Page 181 of Where Darkness Bloomed
Beside her, Hades did not move. From his throne, he watched, steady as stone, offering no command, no interference. And she knew he would not.
Justice must find refuge in death.
Once, Kore might have faltered. The goddess of spring might have pitied these men for their roles in the war. Might have been swayed by excuses, the naïve hope of redemption.
But Persephone—she had seen the black depths of their hearts.
The darkness in their souls, a darkness that rivalled only the beautiful eyes of Astyanax, the infant whose tiny hand had reached for her as she knelt beside him on the riverbank. Astyanax, who had been carried gently to the Underworld by Thanatos after being cruelly murdered.
Bythesemen. The very same who now begged her for the mercy they’d never given a child.
The warmth she had felt for Astyanax hardened into something colder, reforged into iron.
She stepped to the edge of the dais. “Leandros ofSparta and Timais of Mycenae, for the murder of Astyanax of Troy, you now stand in judgment. As you showed no mercy to the child you killed,” she continued, “you will find none here.”
The men’s eyes widened in horror.
“I condemn you to Tartarus for eternity.” The words were stone, cold and final. “Under the guard of Alecto, you will hear the screams of the child you murdered. His cries will be an eternal echo in your ears. His terror is now yours.”
She paused, then straightened.
“Alecto.”
At once, black flames erupted in a roar. From the heart of the inferno, Alecto emerged. Her leathery wings unfurled in a violent snap as she made a deep bow to Persephone. Then she rose, those black wings slicing upward as the Fury sought her prey.
Raw screams ripped from the mortals’ throats, echoing wildly. In wild panic, they scrambled, feet shoving against the marble floor. But there was no escape.
With ruthless precision, Alecto struck. Flames coiled through the air, lashing Leandros in searing chains. Timais was seized by her talons, his body wrenched from the ground as he shrieked in vain.
Their anguished cries ricocheted off the walls, bounding against the marble. The Fury swept them away into black flames, disappearing into the waiting torment of Tartarus.
Then—silence.
The righteous fire that had burned through her faded, cooling to embers. In its place, a strange, settling calm rooted deep. The wrong to Astyanax was made right. Eternally. The storm of wrath passed, leaving only the quiet waters of justice in its wake.
When she turned, the judges were gone. Only Hades remained in the hall.
He rose from his throne, watching her in contemplation. And under the weight of his gaze, she felt utterly, achingly known. There was no pity in him, no attempt to lift the burden from her shoulders. Only unshakable understanding carved into his stance, lingering in his eyes.
“You were just, my queen.” No hollow reassurance, only truth.
Persephone lowered her gaze, her hands clasped before her. Hands that had woven garlands, coaxed life from the earth—now rendered justice. Now rewarded... and condemned.
Her fingers curled slightly, as if the weight lingered against her skin. “Will it always feel this way?” she asked softly.
Hades’s presence enveloped her like a shield, his shadow stretching over her. His thumb grazed the edge of her jaw, a simple, soothing touch.
“Judgment is a burden,” he said. “It should never be easy.” Then softer, the words brushed with quiet intimacy— “But you do not carry it alone.”
She exhaled softly. Her hand found his, their fingers interlacing, holding fast.
He drew her gently away. Away from the thrones, from the heavy echoes of verdict and flames. Out toward the ancient garden where the kingdom rose in endless, wild wonder, crowned by a brilliant sky of stone and gems.
But at the threshold of the throne room, Persephone paused, glancing back.
The silver throne glittered beside the onyx seat. Her place. Her purpose. The role the Fates had woven for her long before she had known to seek it.
A stillness wrapped around her, not heavy, but sure—an embrace shaped from twilight and memory, welcoming her home.
