Something, not long ago, had shifted in him. Utter discontent, an uneasiness, settled into him. He spent millennia searching the souls under his charge for an extraordinary being, but hadn't found one person or entity capable of explaining how to create the balance he searched for. The balance he was incapable of conjuring himself. His brother Zeus was flawed in ways Hades didn't have patience to examine in depth and Poseidon was merely a ruler, not a creator. Finding solace or advice from one of his brothers was a moot point.
All splintered under the gravity of Hades glare and razor sharp inquisitions. Heroes and peasants alike, even most immortals, all would dissolve into the sum of their misdeeds, their vices, their inadequacies, begging and weeping for mercy, though contrition was not required of them. He had no issue with the sinful or the debauched, or the virtuous, and equally welcomed them all into his domain. He provided an appropriate place for all the dead who entered. Good and evil and all those in between, each to his own designated home for eternity. He was a fair and just god.
His eyes could see a mortal life lived in it's entirety. Pleasures, goodness and, of course, there would be at least a sprinkling of evil in even the most puritanical subjects. Why couldn't any being embrace it all as a whole with pride, sans apologies? It all was evidence of a life well lived, as he viewed it. He could not understand the shame they felt as their lives were laid bare before him.
And then there were the mortals that were thoroughly rotten. The murderers, liars, rapists and worse, they would often enter there to preen before him. They flaunted their adventures in depravity. In death, those that so relished their own evil life, would eventually fall to their knees in supplication. Then it was too late for rehabilitation. Hades could look upon a killer and see when they were an innocent babe in their mother's arms. He could see this in them, but couldn't find it in himself. Those souls would go to their deserved torment irregardless of their screams or cries. He was a fair and just god. His purpose was not to forgive. Those mortals were the quickest to be dispatched to their place in the underworld, a waste of his attention. No lessons or epiphanies would be discovered in the most evil souls and those were the least likely to impress him.
He respected both sides of this nature of the universe. But, he had a special attraction to purity. He would find his extraordinary soul among the innocent, because it was everything he was not. The purest mortals proved to be the most fascinating souls because they were so often unaware of their own short comings. And inevitably, they too would admit to things done in their lifetimes that they regretted, no matter how minute.
He pitied them all for what he thought was their ignorance and inability to see all facets of existence with pure honesty and clarity as he did. Good and evil balanced the scales of humanity and the immortals, a necessary tension, push and pull.
For time immeasurable, he waved through countless souls and now he used the brothers, Hypos and Pathos, to do this work of sorting and measuring the lives of the dead. Only the most valuable ghosts were to be brought before him.
Now, with this unknown girl approaching him, he felt he was in the presence of a truly exceptional being. More than any other immortal. More than any other creature he had ever seen, living or dead... and he knew this without having spoken a single word to her. He watched her and lost himself in the simple breathtaking beauty of her. All of his rage, self hatred, even the furrow in his brow and a cleave in his cheek slipped away releasing him. He was left paralyzed in his awe of her.
Pleasures of the flesh had always been just that, physical, though he enjoyed them with abandon. Sirens, sorceresses, and the likenesses there of, had served as vessels, but nothing more. His brother, Zeus, on the other hand, had created the mortals, it seemed, as fodder for his own romantic proclivities. The fascination Zeus had with the human women disgusted Hades. What challenge or thrill could be had from preying on the defenseless? Some of those women would find themselves in the underworld shortly after their encounters with Zeus. For others, the strain of birthing a half-immortal child was too much for their bodies to bear and they would succumb during childbirth. Was Zeus a celestial father, lover, or torturer? Hades never considered a human for the very fact that his depth of character might crush a mortal woman's psyche. Physically, he was far more dense than a man. He would never impose himself on a being so incapable of defending themselves against him and especially one that had caused him no harm. He was a warrior and a king by choice, as well as destiny, but, he was no murderer.
His eyes shifted to the sky where a peregrine falcon circled and broke the trance he'd fallen into. Moving quickly so that she wouldn't see him, he donned his war helmet, rendering himself and everything of his invisible to her. He stood still as she approached. The energy that he contained within his immortal body drew her to him and so he watched her and waited. As she walked closer to him, he felt his own body lean forward and he struggled to remain still. Like a force from the opposite side of his dark spectrum, she exhibited the same powerful pull on him. He was shocked by how much energy it took for him to maintain his footing.
Her eyes saw nothing but the peaceful meadow before her. She had no idea that she was standing face to face with the god of the underworld, Hades. He looked down into her honey colored eyes, unable to focus on anything else. The way the light illuminated her eyes dazzled him. She might as well have had candle flames for eyes for all their brilliance. She stood no taller than the top of the breast plate he wore on his chest and for the first time in his long life, he felt small. His brows knitted together and he unitentionally let out a slow breath to release some of the tension he felt in his chest. He blew cool air into her face and it pushed back her wavy hair from her shoulders. It soothed away the heat of the sun beating down on her and she smiled. Much like the waters of the stream and the ocean, his cool and her warmth clashed in this secret meeting of opposites.
He thought, for a second, that he'd made a childish mistake. He almost revealed his presence to her. What a silly thing to do. He could have ruined the shear bliss of this stolen moment. Had she actually made him nervous?
He made her smile. In such close proximity to him that he might have given up anything to have that intimacy forever in his memory. For the first time in his life he wished to be human, for her and her alone. He wanted to be a boy that could make her laugh or a man that could make her love him. But, who he was would forever stand in the way of that ever happening. This realization, instantly restored the all too familiar fury she had just released him from. His self loathing only deepened into regret for what he would never have... the love of this innocent girl. And his eyes spilled tears that streaked his dirty face.
He embraced the darkness so long ago. Perhaps to such a degree that he no longer held the converse. Any visible light in his own character had long since been extinguished by the steely coldness in the realm of his own creation. Neglecting to infuse his world with light to correspond with his darkness, as his brother had done for the mortals above him was his own fault. He should have been able to see that balance was essential. Now that this glaring mistake was all too evident, he was unable to recreate what he so badly needed... a world with light and life as well as death and darkness.
There in lay the further insult to him. These mortals were given the benefit of dwelling above his empire. And for what did they deserve that entitlement? Mortals were a nuisance to Hades. When they arrived at his feet newly dead and shaking, frightened and lacking any self control, it was his responsibility to house the spirits out of sight of the living. For whom did this whole process benefit?
Many times he had pondered the deliciousness of breaking out the ceilings of his underworld to let in the light, crumbling the vibrant world above, extinguishing all life and releasing the beings he lorded over in an orgasm of chaos the gods would marvel at. And who could stop him? And what of it? If he destroyed this forsaken place he created to house the dead...what of it? His brother would undoubtedly declare war against Hades, but it would be too late to save Zeus' beloved mortals, who, as a species, were little more than play things to him. And Poseidon? He would scarcely notice or care. Poseidon would only seek to keep the peace between his two younger brothers.
