Hades and Seph

by Eileen Glass

  “You’re stupid! Stupid! And you know what?!” His tone becomes shrieking, wild, loud to its very limit and tearing like an animal’s snarl. “You aren’t that pretty either!”

  I know, I know, Minthe.

  Seph opens his mouth to speak. He doubts his ability to be loud enough for the nymph to hear, but they do have better senses than humans. And he has to do something. It’s time to bargain.

  I will leave Hades. Right now, right away. He’ll never find me! I won’t stop moving! I won’t go back to Mother! I’m done with all of them. I will run so far on the Earth that I’ll find the end of it and circle back around and keep running again.

  Hades will have to chase me forever.

  But what he tries to say is, You can have him. You can have him!

  Only to find that the connections to his voice are severed. He can open his mouth but he can’t move his tongue. He can only make this groaning yell, and it is weak sounding.

  He has lost the two smallest fingers on both of his hands, and he suspects the middle one on his left hand might be gone as well. His toes are merely flesh smashed into the wall by the strength in his legs.

  But even the connections to his legs are fading and snapping free. His arms will be gone soon. Seph feels like a clinging torso. A doll without limbs. And his body is just a shape. A mold. On the inside, Seph is… something else.

  There is nothing to do but wait and see what will happen to him. See what it will be like for a god to be reborn. But he will not be Seph anymore. Not even close. He won’t even be reborn as one whole, complete person.

  He does not feel himself leaving as though walking through a door. He is like water himself, being swept away by this incredible wind. He can feel droplets of his own essence running freely out of this mold, swirling away into the current with the rest of the souls.

  He won’t get them back. And he can’t stop the leak.

  I am dying.

  The only thing to do is be sad. He is not even afraid anymore. He clings with all his strength still, but his will to fight is gone. There’s nothing left, and his weak godly soul will join with Gaia, for whatever it’s worth.

  His mother never told him it worked like this—that Gaia has been bleeding out, giving life to all these things. But she did tell him that Gaia is the entire Earth and everything living in it, and that was confusing. All the other gods have forms like people, even the very old ones.

  I should have asked more questions, he thinks and chuckles in his thoughts.

  He has to force himself to breathe now. His body won’t do it automatically. He feels like he’s working a water pump at an empty well, and when the flow sputters out his body will be dead. It’s amazing that he hasn’t been swept off the wall already. He can’t feel his arms or his legs anymore, so how he still clings here, he doesn’t know.

  At least Minthe isn’t talking anymore.

  Where is he?

  But Seph doesn’t have the strength to look up.

  And then something covers him. It’s dark. He can’t see anything. And a male voice speaks in his ear.

  “Let go, Seph. I’ve got you. Let go, love. Trust me, I’ve got you.”

  Thirty-Two

  The world around them is chaos and Seph can only process a small part of it, details slipping to him through a filter like grains poured into a narrow funnel.

  He is held by Hades, who doesn’t feel like a man to him. He certainly doesn’t feel like his husband, and Seph has forgotten how a person is also a physical form, like a doll. He does not register that he and Hades are the same sort of thing. That they are both contained in meat form, and Hades uses his to lift them up out of the water, floating, flying without the assistance of his horses, up to that overlooking ledge above.

  The world is very large to him. Seph is dropped onto the rock, sputtering, and he can’t feel the ache of his struggling breath nor the penetrating cold deep throughout his body. Indeed, it seems that his body is bigger than he is, and he is just a weak, trembling kitten cast upon the rock.

  Hades’s dark cloak flies over his form. Seph can see it covering him, but he can’t feel the soft texture. Only the hard rock under his knees. Everything else is numb. Hades’s voice seems to float all around him. Seph is not connected to his ears, and so the sound doesn’t seem to have a source.

  “You are not lost. Not yet, my love. Come back to me, okay?”

  Hades kisses his forehead. Seph finds this rather odd. Why would he do that with a mouth and a face that are not his? The form is a mask—a doll, a glove. The real Hades is inside and underneath, making this puppet do things, like pet his hair and hold his face.

  “Do not try to go anywhere. That is an order, Seph! Do you hear me?!”

  Hades shouts at the form of his face, holding the head part tightly in his hands, and Seph sees himself in the reflection of the dark god’s eyes.

  It reconnects something. Something small, but something important. He can see Hades as a person again and not a fleshly doll of odd shapes.

  He can also see that the light is gone from his own eyes. They are a colorless nothing gray, but the pupils are still black.

  Green. They’re supposed to be green. My eyes are the only fleck of green down here.

  There’s a few of Hades’s stones. But nothing living except for Seph.

  His memories feel tenuous, like they have been stripped away. Like he has awoken from a dream and now the vivid fake life is fading fast as Seph starts the real one.

  This body does not belong to me. Does it?

  Do I always feel this cold?

  “Come back to me, love. Stay close to me. Here—” Hades kisses him. His lips are like fire. “Do you feel that? Do you feel me, love?”

  He is speaking so quickly, it doesn’t sound like Hades at all. Seph does not remember him sounding so urgent about anything, nor does he remember so much emotion showing on the dark god’s face. His eyes are wide. He keeps blinking and searching, his nose and breath so close to Seph’s face.

  He can’t feel him. But then… He starts to search for the sensations. Hades has sweet breath. Minthe breath, that herb he named after his…

  After his lover!

  Memories are coming back to him. Real, substantial memories. The moments right before this are the only ones that seem to belong to a person named Seph. The others are still part of the dream that came before but never happened.

  He becomes aware of the muscles in his face—how he is staring lifelessly with his jaw hanging open like that woman he saw die in the waters.

  He is so pale too, by the reflection in Hades’s eyes. He doesn’t look like the man he remembers.

  He tries to close his mouth. And it works.

  Hades breaks into a scared smile. He laughs—no, he sobs. Seph is not processing his facial features correctly. The smile is actually a grimace and the god is weeping.

  “That’s it, love. You’re coming back to me. Can you feel it? Do you know I’m here now?”

  And then, over his shoulder, he harshly shouts, “Shut up or I will hang you over the pit!”

  Seph tries to figure out why. He reaches outward, but he’s very careful because Hades told him not to move. He repeated it a few times, so it must be important. And now Seph can feel those newly regained connections weakening when he tries to spread out and discover his world. Several of them snap.

  It’s rather frustrating. He must stay here in this one contained little box, when he could be everywhere. He could be and know and experience everything. For a little while, at least. Seph senses that the last connection will be himself—his ego—and when it is gone, his awareness will vanish as well.

  So he stays inside this box even though this box doesn’t know anything. And he feels like he’s putting his eye to cracks in the walls as he looks for the places that will tell him something.

  He finds… a connection.

  He was not truly hearing Hades before. They were speaking a different way. Now the first real sounds co
me in, and they come with a lot.

  “Forgive me!” someone shrieks, and there is a loud rumbling over that.

  There’s a scrape, claw, and clip—a creature’s hooves are striking the stone, followed by a fluttery sigh. And then there is the water! Seph forgot about that. It is still rushing all around, and he startles, trying to get away, his body lunging forward, but Hades hold onto him. The grip from his fingers hurts.

  “You are safe, love.” His voice seems to come from two sources. One all around and one from his breath. “I’m here with you, you see? I’m going to protect you. Don’t worry about Minthe—he’s already gone, love. You’ll never see him again.”

  Hades kisses him several times, sometimes on his skin and sometimes in his hair. Seph looks for more connections. He wants to feel the kisses. And as these ropes are untangled and reattached to internal places he can’t describe, he gets some sensations that won’t go away. Things that he doesn’t want, like the pain in his knees. He can feel his body start breathing on its own again—a different energy, something from Hades, was doing it for him.

  “Oh, that’s it my love. Yes, come alive again. You’re right here with me. Can you feel me? We didn’t—” He gasps, wiping his face. “We didn’t lose too much.”

  Seph has never seen anyone cry like this.

  Not anyone real anyways.

  He thinks. The faded memories are too difficult to find and replay. The connections are easier, though they’re coming all out of order, and he really wants to use his voice.

  “K-k-kiss—k-kiss me again.”

  That is the last time I stutter in front of my husband!

  What was that?

  That voice didn’t come from Hades, and it didn’t come from this body either.

  “Yes, Seph. Yes, of course I will, my king.”

  He is then kissed several times, some of the kisses covering his mouth and making it more difficult for his body to breathe. But who is Seph? he wonders. And it takes a moment to realize that name belongs to him.

  It is a funny utterance of breath and voice moving over his tongue.

  “S-S-Seph.”

  Persephone, your name has important meaning and announces to everyone who and what you are! Seph is — is what?! Is nothing, that’s what! You are my son.

  What a strange woman.

  Yes, it was a woman, wasn’t it? One of those people from his dream. Is this a memory? Or does this actually exist? Where is he hearing it from?

  More voices flood in. The ropes are pulling the ship back into the harbor. A large piece that was drifting away—what he is—is now anchored and slowly being dragged back into place. The funnel through which he perceives things is widening, and the rate at which he makes new connections increases.

  Seph feels like he is falling. And he clings to Hades because he is scared. But there is no end to this drop. He just keeps going and going, and soon he becomes aware that he is a wet, shivering, bedraggled thing. A being that does not freely move unless it can balance on its legs. Something that does not see or hear or experience unless it comes through one of the limited connections.

  He sees less of the world now. But what his eyes can filter, he perceives better, and he is not in danger of spreading out too much and becoming one with everything.

  “Hhh—help…” His mouth moves, his tongue flexing, trying to remember how to physically say the words. “I am… I am dying.”

  “No, you’re not, love.” Hades buries his face against Seph’s chest. His breaths are ragged and heavy. When he looks up, his lashes gleam with tears. “You’re right here with me. We’re alive. Both of us. Seph—can you remember who you are?”

  He is a creature called Seph, but he knows that syllable should mean something more.

  “Almost. It’s coming back, I think. But I’m confused.” He points at two dark shapes. His unused fingers curl slowly and his limb trembles. “What are those?”

  There is a horse and a dog. But at the moment, he can’t remember which is which.

  “That is Nyctaeus, one of my horses. That is Cerberus, my faithful dog.”

  So dog is the shorter one. Seph expects a memory to come bubbling out of the abyss, but nothing does. The horse though—Seph has seen another one of these. It was brown and had stubby legs compared to this one.

  “What is the dog doing?”

  The horse is just standing there, its ears twitching and its sides heaving in and out with breath. The dog has another object though, and a bright red liquid spreads against the dim ground. Seph doesn’t care for it. The quieter colors are better. This one feels loud and alarming.

  “He is about to kill your assailant.” Then Hades shouts, and Seph winces. “Cerberus! Down! Guard the quarry! Don’t bite! Good boy.”

  The dog stops shaking and tearing the figure, but the other creature continues leaking red onto the ground and wailing. It drags one of its legs.

  Oh! It is a person too. Splayed on the ground. And it is crying like Hades, looking back at them with wet eyes, strands of hair falling over its face.

  “You love him more than me.”

  The thing coughs and scoots, bringing his legs underneath him.

  Seph tries to do the same, looking at his own limbs. They are not as shapely and pale as the young man across from him. They are more like… Like something he cannot think of… Like…

  Like a man’s legs.

  Mother, I am a grown man! I do not need you fussing over me all the time!

  Do not call me ‘baby boy’ out in public—ever—again!

  Faintly, he remembers the woman’s voice.

  Well, how am I supposed to remember that?

  Breath escapes his chest. It is puffy. Light. His body is responding to him, not just through purposeful mechanical movements, but to his emotions as well. To his internal being.

  It is happening. I am coming back.

  But who am ‘I’?

  I am Seph.

  Seph, I am Seph!

  Thirty-Three

  Few things have given Hades the jolt of fear and panic that he experiences now. Not even meeting Zeus for the first time, shivering, gasping, flesh melting still from the acid—and looking upon his brother’s face, the one he didn’t know existed.

  He grasped Zeus to him, forgetting about his state, embracing the gleaming god before him. His savior.

  Zeus, despite showing disgust and then a grimace of pain, did not reject him. Nor did he embrace him. But for Hades, who hadn’t seen sunlight nor breathed air for so long?

  It was love at first sight with Zeus and him. As it was for Hera and the rest of his siblings.

  That was how it started. For a brief century, the lost siblings were reunited in love, going up against their father, all of them, together, with most of Rhea’s creations as well.

  And then the chip. Hades stood up to the clever thunder god successfully, on Hera’s behalf. He hadn’t liked that Zeus had such little respect for her affection and had an affair so soon.

  Zeus was suspicious, but their love wasn’t broken yet. Not until Hades had the opportunity to kill Chronos, having lured him away from the battle, but used it to speak with his father instead and seek forgiveness for being his son.

  He told Chronos that love and the right to live were all that was important to any of them—they didn’t destroy him like the prophet said! Only for Zeus to step in and steal his father’s scythe, disemboweling him with it. His little brother knew to stay out of the fighting and watch Hades closely.

  Hades hadn’t realized what he’d done at first. He wept for Father. When he gathered his strength to stand, he asked Zeus why and did not get a response. He insisted some things. That he was their father, he didn’t deserve it. When he was ignored, he charged at Zeus’s back, shouting in tearful rage, but Zeus turned and stopped him with his words. They spoke in many fragments, snarling at each other. But over decades of mulling Hades pieced together everything he said in a wise, eloquent speech. So he won’t forget it.

&n
bsp; You love him over us? The man that would eat your own siblings? Why?

  I have loved you more than he ever did. Yet, you accuse me of this murder? And you accuse me of being the evil one?

  Hades, you sick, twisted fool. You are the one who should have defeated Chronos. You injured him and brought him here, after all. I watched. It was not very hard. You bested him like you were wrestling with Poseidon.

  You are the most powerful god in creation, and you did nothing to stop this man, not only from torturing yourself, but from the torture and near deaths of our innocent sisters and brothers alongside you.

  You have been responsible for our misery all along!

  This is why I will take the throne and rule all the gods. I will stop men like him from hurting others. And I will act when other gods usually just look away. I will not let the weak be trampled on the way you have done!

  You let the cruel tyrant rule.

  Zeus did not understand how much Hades loved their father. He would have suffered much more for him. The other siblings heard, arriving some time during their quarrel, and a tearful reunion was reduced to mistrust and betrayal. They took their youngest brother’s side.

  How could Hades do that to them? When he had the power this whole time to burst out of his father’s stomach and save them all?

  It would have killed Father, he told them, crying. And they never loved him the same.

  His self reflection did not happen that day. Hades was in too much agony, grieving over the ruined corpse of the father he loved. But in time, the words finally gnawed through his blind adoration and let him see the truth. His family was put through enormous pain by his continued inaction.

  Initially, Zeus was cruel as he convinced the gods that he was the new Chronos, only with an interest in controlling their lives and settling their disputes for them.

  And though Hades apologized and even begged at their feet, no one but his mother could forgive him for truly being the most powerful god alive and doing nothing about Chronos.

  Hades decided to get up and take on Zeus for a short period. That seemed to be the way to mend his errors and become his rightful self. He aspired to be the new Father and somehow make up for what he’d done. But then Zeus, with his words again, convinced Hades to take the underworld.