Where Persephone walked, roses sprouted beneath her feet. Recently, however, their color had faded and all that grew was gray with decay. It was unlike her, she was the Goddess of Spring, after all. Her mother, Demeter, Goddess of the Harvest and Fertility, could have only given birth to such a (normally) lively beauty.
Who was Persephone if she could no longer create life, but instead only give life to death? Demeter noticed her melancholy gait, and would often press her as she did that day, but Persephone herself was not quite sure what it was that was ailing her.
Hades sat beneath an apple tree, whose fruit he discovered were quite delicious, and watched the pair. He could clearly see them, Persephone’s dark blond hair and blush dress, Demeter’s loose chocolate bun and dress to match. They stood out among the grave flowers like they didn’t belong. Which they didn’t, they were Goddesses standing on Earth’s soil after all. Hades, however, blended well with the shadows, covered in his black attire that only showed his milky skin above his neck. Even his hair was the shade of night, practically blending where it met his collar. The only thing truly bright about him was the gold in his eyes, dancing with anticipation.
The entire field was gray, a trail of Persephone’s gloominess. It didn’t fit quite right with the warmth of Apollo’s sun or the clear skies above. The whole scene was amiss. He himself had felt the way Persephone did now, and had found the underworld to be the best reprieve. Hades had left the drama orchestrated by his twisted family in the Heavens and on Earth for his own solitude. After a time, he did desire company, and began to carve it into a haven for the lost souls as they departed the realm of the living. While they had feared his name in life, they had come to find that their lives were ravaged more so by the other Gods than by Hades. He shared that bond with them, and ruled benevolently- where it was earned of course.
Where the stories his brother Zeus told the living were true was in the Underworld’s grim ambiance. Visibly, it was cloaked in shadows, with no colors off the gray-scale. If you considered gray a color, that is. The castle in which Hades and his most devoted souls resided was a dark beacon black as night, though the waters leading to it were what ran the deepest and darkest shade. It was the kind of black that has so much nothingness, you start to lose yourself to it, to become nothing as well. That was the fear of the river Styx. It was nothingness, it was unknown, a black hole. People, even Gods, fear the unknown. It was one of the many reasons they toyed with human nature, they had control.
Hades embraced the unknown, there was a thrill there in the darkness. And maybe, he thought from beneath his hiding spot, it would be for her too. He was being silly, meddling, but something within told him to. Perhaps it was Fate.
Demeter had disappeared, leaving the young woman alone in the field of beautiful decay. She moved gracefully, picking up a flower here and there. As she bent down once more, a bolt of lightening struck the tree where Hades hid.
It was Zeus’ gift to Hades to aid him in this quest. Why, he wasn’t sure, but he didn’t question it. When Zeus’ bolt hit, it startled Persephone, who chucked a piece of wavy dark blond hair behind her shoulder and looked his way. She was curious, Hades could see, and placed her flowers on the ground where she stood. Her green eyes searched until she found his and she floated between the flowers until she was just a few feet away from Hades, who had moved into plain sight.
Persephone cocked her head to the side inquisitively. “Who are you?”
“Let me show you,” Hades replied with a smile and stepped to the side. Behind him, where the lightening struck once more, the tree disappeared and a black hole opened in the field. He held out his hand to her and Persephone hesitated for a moment. She picked up the bottom of her dress and stepped over one of the large roots that once belonged to the tree, placing her hand in his.
Writing Prompt: Black