“Cerberus!”
The dog continued on so she chased after him.
The steps led to an open cavern. Lanterns lined the passage, but barely illuminated her feet. The tunnel provided an escape from the heat of the Phlegethon. Perhaps Cerberus was leading her to the Well of Reincarnation as she had requested.
Just as she had that thought, she came to the end of the cavern, which led to a grotto. It was beautiful. The space was full of lush vegetation and trees heavy with gol
den fruit. The pool at her feet held water that glittered like stars in an inky sky.
This must be the Well of Reincarnation, she thought.
At the pool’s center, there was a stone pillar. A gold goblet sat at the top. Persephone wasted no time as she waded through the water to reach the cup, but with the movement of water, there came a voice.
“Help,” it rasped. “Water.”
She froze and looked around but saw nothing.
“H-hello?” She called to the dark.
“The pillar,” the voice said.
Persephone’s heart raced as she came around the post to find a man chained to the other side of the column. He was thin—literally skin stretched over bones. His hair and beard were long, white, and matted. The manacles around his wrists were just short enough to prevent him from reaching the cup at the top of the pillar—or the low hanging fruit just within reach.
She inhaled sharply at the sight of him, and when the man looked at her, his pupils appeared to be swimming in blood.
“Help,” he said again. “Water.”
“Oh, my gods.”
Persephone climbed the pillar for the goblet, filled it with water from the pool and helped the man drink.
“Careful,” she warned, the faster he gulped. “You will become ill.”
She pulled the goblet away and the man took a few breaths, chest heaving.
“Thank you,” he said.
“Who are you?” she asked, studying his face.
“My name,” he took a breath, “is Tantalus.”
“And how long have you been here?”
“I do not remember.” Every word he spoke was slow and seemed to take all his energy. “I was cursed to be eternally deprived of nourishment.”
She wondered what he had done to be assigned such a punishment.
“I have begged daily for an audience with the lord of this realm so that I might find peace in Asphodel, but he will not hear my pleas. I have learned from my time here. I am not the same man I was all those long years ago. I swear it.”
She considered this, and despite what she’d learned about Hades today, she believed in the god’s powers. Hades knew the soul. If he felt this man had changed, he would grant him his wish to reside in Asphodel.
Persephone took a step away from Tantalus, and she saw his eyes change. There it is, she realized, the darkness that Hades saw.
“You do not believe me,” he said, suddenly able to speak without pause.
“I’m afraid I do not know enough either way,” Persephone said, trying to remain as neutral as possible. She had the unsettling feeling that this man’s rage was to be feared. At her words, the strange, angry glint that had clouded his eyes disappeared, and he nodded.
“You are wise,” he said.