❛THEY WOULD TELL YOU OF A KING WHO STOLE ME HELPLESS FROM MY SUNSHINE GARDEN.❜
They won't tell you about the woman who came to him sublime, lily eyes and lily lips. A king does not ask permission from his prize, but she, oh she, she knelt, kissing m...
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FOREST OF THE FURIES, THE UNDERWORLD.
PERSEPHONE
THE FOREST OF THE FURIES WAS A QUIET VOID AROUND ME.
Diamonds blinked in the inky sky above my head, and swirls of chilly winter winds lapped about at the hem of my cloak. I wrapped the thick, velvety cloak tighter around myself, my breath misting in front of me.
The hour was ungodly, wicked, and all things sinister.
I braced myself, squaring my shoulders. Just a peek, I told myself. Just a glimpse. What could be so wicked - so possibly wicked... that it lay locked miles and miles under the earth in the corner of a forbidden forest at the edge of the world?
The moon had come out to play tonight.
The White Tower was a figure of dread, standing lonely in the moonlight, like a supreme deity watching over her children. Somewhere far away, a bat called out to its mate. There was something in the air, something malicious, beckoning me closer and closer and closer to something hidden deep in the woods.
I circled the tower once. Twice. Again. And then again.
It had no door.
There was no door. No window. Not a single opening that could suggest them leaving or entering the tower.
Not far in the distance, golden lights cast their reflections in the dark sky. I walked a little bit closer, the black of my clothes blending into the surroundings. The temples were dimly lit, fires blazing in their scones. The gates were deserted, not a single acolyte or frowning, stone eyed goddess in sight. Something in the air whispered into my air.
Go back go back go back.
I breathed deeply, and walked past them, heading into the mysterious, empty darkness looming over the other side of the tower.
Somewhere high up above, Lachesis was singing again.
Go back go back go back, the voice urged, faster now, quickening - as if sensing it had very less time, as if something was coming for it. As if someone was going to shut it out. Very soon.
There was a gargoyle carved at the entrance. A huge, enormous dragon lumbered slowly, uneasily in the granite it was set in. The creaking of stone made me jump - just for a bit. My eyes strained to see past it, past the great, yawning darkness beyond it.
An immovable door of something solid peered back at me.
My hands reached out to touch - to feel - lingering over a tiny hole in the dead center of the stone.
A keyhole.
Without a key.
I willed myself to open it, straining hard to work past whatever defences Hades had put there in place. There was only one key to Tartarus, and that key hung around his neck every hour, every waking minute of the day. And stealing it from him would have only risked discovery. I shuddered once.
