Brotherly Love

I stood atop a stygian bluff overlooking the abyssal depths of the River Styx, its ever-flowing waters lapping at the rocks below. There I waited to hear the monotonous toll of the great iron bell strung within one of many obsidian towers that stretched high above my dismal kingdom, tapering in contrast to the hanging stalactites that ornament the cavernous sky of my namesake, reflecting light from glittering jewels and precious gems that form deep within the earth. At any moment, the bell, hung with rotted rope like a hangman’s noose, would sway sluggishly from one side to the next, like a pendulum, like the never-ending river of time.

            Time is quite a concept to grasp for one without the fear of death looming over them every day of their miserable lives, but I believe with the firmest conviction that I, unlike my ignorant brothers, truly understand the intricate machinations of time. It is an unstoppable force. When one is born, they immediately begin to deteriorate until there’s nothing left for them save for the inevitable conclusion to all life. Time marches ever forth.

Finally, I heard the dreadful toll from the great bell tower. It signals the end of winter for those carrying out their meaningless lives in the world of the living, and with it, the beginning of spring. I am bound by honor to allow her to leave, and so on the far shore of the River Styx, I watch in disdain as my wife Persephone, daughter of Demeter, flees as quickly as she can from my domain.

It always looks just like this. Every autumn, when Persephone is forced to join me in the dark realm of the dead I do all that I can to express my undying love for her. For she is the most beautiful of all the world’s great wonders. I shower her with gold, precious metals, glittering gemstones, diamonds, all the riches in the world, and still she cares nothing for me! I try my hardest to win her heart, but when it comes time for her to leave, she always does. She never offers to stay, never bothers to say farewell, never once looks back at me as Charon ferries her across the river.

We gods do not possess the hearts of men. However, we may feel as they do, and these feelings brought me to my knees in emotional agony as I let slip a cry of deep sorrow. How could it be possible that a god such as me, ruler of all things below the mortal world, could possess so much and yet feel as if he possesses nothing at all? What’s worse is that try as I may I can’t help but blame my brother for it. Somehow, no matter how much I look at it, it’s all his fault.

My high and mighty brother Zeus thinks himself plagued with problems of his own. While I’m sure he’s busy ruling over the heavens as well as the other gods, I know what truly happens. Eons ago when my brothers and I drew lots to decide which of the three domains we each would rule, it was I who offered to trade lots with Zeus after I saw his disappointment at having been stuck with the Underworld, I who made the sacrifice so that he might be happy.

I knew what I had done. None of us wanted the burdens of ruling the dark and dismal world beneath. Every day I must work to keep the souls of the damned imprisoned in Tartarus. It is I who spends countless years on vigil to ensure that our father and his siblings do not escape the eternal fathoms to seek revenge upon us all, I who must keep track of every soul that enters my domain. None of them leave. My brothers can never comprehend that while life in their realms I balanced, an equilibrium of life and death where as one life passes on another is brought into the world, the souls of my kingdom can never leave. My subjects continue to grow in number unceasingly.

I have done so much for the sake of my brothers and received nothing in return. If not for me, the mortal realm would be overflowing with restless souls and demons bent on destroying all life. Those who came before us would still be plotting Zeus’s downfall. I have asked for nothing, but as soon as a beautiful demigoddess catches my eye and I try to give her everything I can to prove my love for her, she runs from me.

I don’t know what came over me when I decided to use trickery and deceit to get her to stay here, but ever since neither Demeter nor Aphrodite will acknowledge me. One by one, they all slipped away from me. Not even my own family cares for me anymore. Ares was once a good friend of mine, but lately I’ve been seeing more casualties of war than anything else, and I think Ares is doing it in spite of me. Hephaestus still looks at me with a woeful glance at times. I suppose he understands what it’s like to be an outcast, to have his heart broken. He too lives out his immortal existence alone beneath the ground, cloistered in that workshop of his.

Perhaps I should do something to change this fate, to halt the flow of time. No. On the contrary, I shall not halt it. Rather, I shall pull the threads of fate myself and bring about the undoing of my brother. Perhaps then he will acknowledge me. Maybe then he will understand my suffering. I will rid him of everything that he loves. Then he shall know loss. I shall make Hephaestus an offer that he can’t refuse. He is the only being that can craft weapons to kill a god.

I will bring about the end of Zeus. And time shall march ever onward.