The Taste Of Divinity

Ε Ι Κ Ο Σ Ι Π Ε Ν Τ Ε

G A R D E N   O F   A S H O D E L S,   U N D E R W O R L D.

"You can pick some if you want." His smooth, decadent voice came from behind her, stealing her from the trance she'd fallen into minutes earlier when she'd woken up to find an amethyst sitting neatly on her open palm.

It had been the first gemstone, the first gift she'd received after returning the ruby.

It was a peace offering, an offering which could only ever mean one thing.

"No, thank you." She laughed quietly, the sound lacking mirth. "Who knows what trick you will think of this time. A child, perhaps? Something to keep me tied to you even after you've fulfilled your oath?"

It was his turn to laugh then. "As tempting as that sounds, my dear, it is quite impossible."

"How so? Tricks aren't beneath you, my Lord."

"No," he agreed, his shoulders falling the slightest bit, his crown suddenly heavy on his head, filled with shame, perhaps. His eyes dulled. He thanked the stars for her refusal to look at him. "It would seem that they are not but even if I wished to try such a trick, I'm afraid it would take a long time, far longer than your stay here, with me, is predicted to last."

Persephone turned to look at him then, lifting her dirt stained hands from the ground, taking in his dishevelled appearance; the hair that refused to be tamed, the pale, sickly hue of his naturally glowing skin, the feverish eyes. Her breath caught in her throat. Even then, he resembled a statue of ivory and gold. Even then.

It was strange, considering how well he blend in with his surroundings, that this world had not been created for him. He thrived in the wretchedness and the excessive wealth of his land, in the silence and the gloom that offered him more solace than a hundred days in the Sun.

The Sun, as she had come to learn, sickened him, left him weakened to battle fevers fiercer than the greatest storms. It made his skin glow with perspiration and the golden tint to fade. It made his mind damaged, his thoughts turned to curses and unholy pledges.

"How so?" She breathed, a ruse to escape the impulses that begged her to tend to him.

What an enemy her mind was turning into.

"Death and decay reign this world, they are the true rulers. I am merely an ornament. Life doesn't prosper inside this kingdom, it takes years for even a piece of it to take root." With a few swift, efficient movements he managed to pluck an asphodel. The flower, already dying, suffocated in his tight grip. "Even the flowers you rest beside were nothing more than weak roots when I first came to rule. It took years, many years, for the first one to bloom."

She wiped her hands off on her chiton, staining the fabric. It was her attempt to appear disinterested. "That still doesn't explain your words."

"I am bound to my Kingdom, Persephone. I am equally a subject to its whims as is every creature here. I follow the laws of my land, even involuntarily. In other words, I am as barren as my earth. When the earth prospers then so do I." The wind stilled. No, that is a lie. The wind continued to move around them but it lost its voice and its howls became mute as they became deaf.

Her breath stayed tucked in her lungs, safe, if only for a minute, from the transformation into a poison. Her limbs refused to cooperate and offer the slightest movement. Her heart stopped beating. It was she who stilled, after all, not the wind.

She was so shocked at his lack of sadness, his lack of mournful desire for the things that had been denied to him. It was like he felt no pain and envy. And yet, those very emotions grew roots inside her body. It was difficult for her not to curse the Fates for forcing such unnatural laws on him, for taking the Sun away from his eyes, even if they were not to blame. "I apologise. I didn't know."