Psyche took a deep breath, knowing that her silence was distressing him. She felt like she could read him, even though she could not see him. She liked it when he expressed some form of emotion, even if it were exasperation or fear or nervousness. It made him seem more human.
“Very well,” she sighed. “I shall not ask anymore about this amazing palace. Sit back down and let us finish another scroll.”
She saw him hesitate and she urged him again. “Come now, I will not bite. One would think I was the beast.”
Psyche heard a surprised pause, then a chuckle. Finally, her companion settled back down.
As Psyche was shifting through the scroll to find the spot where they had ended last, she spoke thoughtfully. “It must have cost you much, to show me your library. You do not have to answer. I know for some reason, you are forbidden to. So I thank you for trusting me with its secrets. I am very grateful for your kindness and patience, throughout my stay.”
She felt rather than saw her companion relax. “It is my pleasure.”
After they completed the scroll, she asked if they could go back to the library for another one. As they entered, Psyche spied something floating down from the zenith of the domed ceiling, and caught her breath, as it placed itself on a table not far from her.
“It must have just been written,” she heard the voice behind her. He was still deep in the shadows.
Psyche moved towards the scroll. “May I?”
He hesitated. Suddenly, the scroll lifted again by itself and floated to the dark shadow where he stood. She did not hear him open it. She barely heard a rustle but then the scroll was moving back towards her.
“You may.”
She suddenly had the jarring suspicion that, in the three seconds he had the scroll in his hand, he had read the entire contents. But, there was no light, and it was too fast. She remembered his words yesterday, “We have no need for reading.”
Not for the first time, she began to wonder if he were some type of god. What use would anyone except gods have of the world’s knowledge? But then, what use would any god have with her? The creature specifically said he wanted a friend. If he were truly a god, he could befriend anyone he wanted. None of it made any sense. But with a voice so soft and humble, there was no way he could be a god. No, she must be wrong. He might be a sage, perhaps, or a worldly prophet, or perhaps one of the powerful Oracles.
Psyche plucked the scroll from out of the air and opened it. What she read made her sit down in shock.
“It is about Troy. The war was still going on before I was brought here, yet, it writes of it being over.”
“If the scroll says so, then the war has ended.”
“But, it says that Troy has fallen.”
The creature was quiet for a moment. “You are surprised?”
“Of course,” Psyche admitted. “It is one of the mightiest fortresses. They called it impenetrable. Some of the best writing came from Troy and some of the noblest heroes. How could it fall?”
“All things must come to an end.” When Psyche did not reply, he realized that the scroll was being dampened with moisture. “Are those tears I see?”
“No,” Psyche lied.
“You weep. You weep for people you have never met, for a city you have never stepped foot in.”
“No, but I have read about it, and I have read about the people, the heroes, the heroines. I think about the children who inevitably perish. They are real to me. And I weep for them.”
“You mortals are always such a mystery. You feel so deeply. You feel a kinship to one another. A connection.”
“Yes. We cannot read minds and we cannot make ourselves invisible, but we do have the ability to feel one another’s pain. To imagine it and to suffer together. For whatever purpose, I do not know. Perhaps, so that we can limit the amount of pain we give to each other.”
There was a pause. The creature spoke softly. “Based on these writings, I do not know how affective this is.”
Psyche could not help agreeing. “Nor do I.”
She put the scroll down sadly, no longer in the mood to read anymore. She was suddenly overcome with loneliness, wanting so much for her father’s arms around her, to hug her, and make her feel better. And the creature she was with, whoever he may be, could give her his voice, even his empathy, but he had never once touched her. She marveled that she craved now what she had once dreaded. Quickly, she wiped the tears away and put aside the scroll.
Psyche managed to excuse herself with an apologetic smile before quitting the room.
Chapter 9
Psyche could not contain her delight when she saw what lay on the table for her the next evening. “Oh, my favorite! Pyramus and Thisbe, a tale of woe like no other. I have never seen the actual poem written before.”
However, when she opened the papyrus, she hesitated. Memories flooded back to her. It had been her and Erik’s favorite poem. Erik, his name still made her heart thunder. She remembered his voice so beautiful, it made the nightingales jealous.
“It is a fairly new ballad,” the shadow murmured, interrupting her thoughts. “How do you know of it?”
“It was recited to me by... a friend. Well, he was my friend.”
“Is he no longer your friend?”
Psyche shook her head resolutely. “No.”
When she did not elaborate the shadow cleared his throat. “Would you like to talk about it?”
Psyche did not respond. Instead, she stared deeply into the fire. She knew the silence was torturing him, yet she did not know how to approach the subject of Erik. How was she to introduce the pain and the pleasure that was her experience with him?
“Were you in love with him?” Something in the creature’s tone made the question less prying and more charming. Was there a hint of jealousy in his voice? Or was it insecurity? Psyche did not blame him for wondering, but she hated that she was so transparent. Even after all this time, she could not keep the feeling from her voice when she spoke of him. Perhaps, it would be good for her to share the experience with someone. Perhaps, this creature who had proved to be such a great listener in the past, could help her make some sense of what had happened.
“I was,” she found herself admitting. “He was a shepherd, someone my parents did not deem worthy to marry me. It’s why this poem means so much. We often likened ourselves to Pyramus and Thisbe. But then, he betrayed me.”
Psyche heard the creature shift. “A terrible offense. But how so?”
“He made promises that he did not keep,” Psyche hated how her eyes were starting to moisten. “He used me for sport, and then he discarded me. Now you know, I am a used woman. I am hardly fit for any man’s wife, even a creature such as yourself.”
Her companion let out a sharp breath. “You think such things would matter to me?”
Psyche shrugged. “They matter to everyone else.”
“But, I am not like most.”
A wry smile tilted her lips. “Well, true. For one, you are a shadowy figure that I am not allowed to see. You live in an enchanted palace with invisible servants. You claim you are a creature unlike any other, yet you speak like a courtier, and you think like a philosopher. It’s hard for me to imagine a creature with a mind such as yours who is not human. But you are, definitely, not like most.”
“Ah, and you have yet to explore the rest of the island.”
Psyche nodded. “This is true.”
“This boy you speak of,” the creature continued. “What did he do to win your heart?”
Psyche pondered this. She recalled the first time she met him when he was on his ridiculous donkey. She remembered his silly antics, rescuing her from an embarrassing singing performance in front of a room full of suitors, ragged but confident, holding a dusty lyre, making a whole room of disgruntled, competitive men laugh. And finally, she recalled her last time with him, when he held her in his arms and looked at her with such raw wonder and adoration, she thought she was drowning and flying all at the same time.
When Psyche found her voice, she discovered that it was thick with feeling, and her eyes were flooding, but she refused to let the tears fall. No. She had shed enough tears for him. “I don’t think it was any one thing. Why does anyone fall in love? It’s a question for Eros and Aphrodite, not for me. But… there was always this warmth to him. He made me feel happy just being near him. Everyone was drawn to him, and not just because he was beautiful.”
“So he was handsome?” the creature probed.
Psyche gave a soft laugh. “I don’t think the waterfalls outside this palace could be more beautiful than he. But it was not just his face or his smile. It was his strength combined with his tenderness. Eventually, he became this pillar. This shoulder for me to lean on. I like to think of myself as a fairly tough girl.”
“Yes, I have noticed that.”
Psyche smiled. “But with him, I felt like I could finally breathe. Like I could take off my armor, my shield, and just rest. My entire soul felt peace when he was with me.”
At length, the creature drew a long breath. “You must have loved him very much.”
She laughed bitterly, irritated that the tears were falling despite her resolve. She wiped them away, impatiently. “Yes. I was a fool. I am not the first to have been fooled by love. You’ve read the antics of Eros, the god of that heinous emotion. He is always making such fools of us women.”
“I doubt that is his intention.”
“Do you? Well, you think more highly of him than I. What good has love done anyone? It has destroyed a beautiful city like Troy, and it makes madmen out of sane, reasonable people. It is strongest and most passionate when it is forbidden, and it is always mysteriously absent when a union is most practical and convenient.”
“You know this through experience?” she was surprised by the irritation in his voice.
“It’s all in the papyri.”
“You’ve read all the scrolls in this library?” he challenged.
“You know I haven’t. Have you?”
He did not answer. She did not know what gesture he made with his hands but one scroll was pulled in the distance and brought before her. It floated gently onto her lap. “Try this one. After finishing it, let me know how you feel about love.”
Something in the creature’s voice alarmed Psyche and made her feel that she should not refuse. The subject was of great passion to him. Was he bitter as well, and searching for answers?
Psyche opened the scroll and began reading.
She read through the night and when the candle waned, new ones were lit. She suspected that her companion had fallen asleep or left, but she could not put the papyri down. She had never heard the story before. It was a ballad about a god of darkness who was feared and loathed wherever he went. He fell madly in love with a nymph and brought her to the darkness with him. She longed to return home to the light, for she missed her mother, but before she left, she ate a pomegranate. From the writing, it was not clear if she had done so knowingly. But by eating the fruit she had sealed her fate. Half the year with him; the other half in the world of light.
“Hades and Persephone and the changing of seasons,” Psyche murmured after she finished reading the scroll. “An interesting interpretation of the legend.”
She was surprised that her companion responded immediately. Had he been there the whole time? “The scroll never spoke the name of Hades.”
“Well, who else could it be? A dark lord who all mortals feared? A black cave where no mortals left? It’s hardly brilliance. The writing leaves much to be wanted.”
“It is the first version. The only version so far, I believe. I am not certain who the author is. Someone who did not know the whole story very well, I’m sure.”
Psyche looked back down on the scroll. “It says he brought her to the darkness and she followed him there. But as I recall, he had kidnapped her. Not as romantic as this poet spins it.”
“Indeed,” the creature murmured. “But then, he is the god of Tartarus. I don’t think he knows how to properly court a lady.”
Psyche began to laugh at this, then stopped and pressed her hand to her mouth. “Oh, that is sacrilege. You do not worry he will get upset with us?”
There was warmth in his voice. “I sometimes forget you are mortal and have reason to fear such things.”
“How wonderful it must be to be immortal!”
“There are perks. As well as curses. What is it that you hate so much about mortality?”
Psyche sputtered at the absurd question. “What isn’t there to hate? You know that there is an end to everything. There is always this fear that death will come suddenly.”
“But how terrible is death, really, when you will be given eternal life elsewhere? I would say it is more terrible to be the one left living, the one left behind to suffer and bear the world alone.”
Psyche shook her head. “As a mortal, we must say good-bye to everyone we love.”
“Only temporarily. You do believe in the afterlife, no? As long as you live a decent life, there is reunion. It is immortals that must say good-bye. We, who have had the time to form the strongest bonds.”
Psyche realized that he was finally talking freely. “Is that what you suffer?”
The creature did not answer, and suddenly Psyche felt a need to touch him. She reached out towards the darkness and boldly felt for what she thought would be his hand. He jumped back at the gesture and all she felt was the breeze of his quick withdrawal before her hand touched empty space.
Psyche placed her hand back on her lap, not willing to lose this opportunity to understand him. “Did you lose someone you loved to death? A mortal?”
Perhaps, that was why he was so sad and lonesome.
“Not yet.” His strained voice was barely audible and Psyche felt him get up swiftly and pace. “Do you think Eros was wrong for what he did? For pairing those two?”
Psyche was surprised by the question. “Eros? You mean, the god of love? Well, the author writes of Eros’s mischief and boredom. It doesn’t say that he intended the pair to be together. ”
“Do you think all writing is the exact truth?”
“No, of course not. But it is all I have to go by. Perhaps... you know more than I.”
He paused for a moment. Then sighed. The sound was so full of frustration, she could feel the heat of his tension from where she sat several paces away. His tone, when he spoke, was painfully self-deprecating. “Perhaps, I know nothing at all.”
Before she could respond, he spoke quickly. “I have kept you up for so long. Forgive me. I feel we both must rest now.”
“Wait!” Psyche was so surprised that he was going to walk out on her, right before he could possibly reveal something. The word flew from her lips. She may never have this chance again.
Psyche felt him pause. She spoke in an unpremeditated rush. “I don’t think Eros was wrong. Despite the writing of how feared Hades was by man, it also mentioned his loneliness and his nobleness. Hades deserved companionship as well. And I read somewhere that Zeus had, in fact, cheated Hades from his rightful throne. That after the destruction of the Titans, the monsters who ruled the earth before the gods, Hades, being the older brother, should have been given the seat of King, not Zeus.”
She could hear the admiration in his voice. “Is that so?”
“So, if what the poets wrote were true, then Hades especially deserves love. In which case, Eros acted very wisely.”
The creaking caused by her husband’s pacing continued. “They say that Hades was a very sad and bitter being. But after he found Persephone, he became a completely changed man. It is as if everyone benefitted.”
“You seem to know a lot about him.”
There was that soft, bitter laugh again. “No one knows Hades intimately. Except perhaps his wife.”
“Are you Hades?”
Her companion guffawed in a way that made Psyche certain the answer was negative. But she liked the element of surprise that forced him to an
swer her question honestly.
The creature cleared his throat, trying to hide what he had just revealed.
“My goodness, you have been busy! You are still trying to figure out who I am. You cannot leave well enough alone.”
“I will find out one of these days.”
He paused and Psyche suspected he was smiling. His voice was gently teasing. “I believe you will... and it doesn’t help that you are always catching me off guard. But do you think it’s wise to probe so? You now what happened when Pandora opened that box.”
“Sometimes, I wonder if I am not Pandora reborn.” Psyche found herself surprised to be only partially joking. “Ah well, perhaps I need another lesson.”
“Clearly.” His voice was full of laughter, then it abruptly sobered. “But you must remember the promise you made to me. You must not try to see me. It is for your own safety.”
“Will you enflame me to death with your godly light?”
He laughed again at her ironic tone but, perhaps, there was a hint of nervousness. Psyche was close. Closer than he liked her to be, and she sensed it. “Is that what you read?” he asked softly. “About gods?”
“I know that to see them can do mortals terrible harm.”
“You believe everything you read?” Psyche suspected he was laughing at her.
“No, but like I said before, it is all I have to go by.”
“I’m beginning to wonder if it might not already be too much. Enough, already. You need not worry that the sight of me will set you on fire. I am not the god of the Underworld, thank Zeus! I cannot believe that you suspected such a thing and did not jump screaming out a window. Not only that, you tried to touch me. Surely you know, to touch Hades as a mortal is to die yourself and still.... Ah, I see. I would not let you see me. I would not let you touch me.”
“You show me a poem of a man who watched a maiden for a while before he kidnaps her.”
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