Series: Willow Winters
Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 94417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
It is the same pattern as always, and yet it feels like the first time. Each soul is a precious being. One under my rule and their eternity at my discretion.
With Persephone’s hand in mine, I am the same God I was before. And I am a God I have never met.
It is not a matter of fairness. From my first breaths in the Underworld, I knew I would rule with balance and that with it, would come judgement from others. Scathing hate from those punished that is inescapable. Heartless is a word I hear often. There is no one in the Underworld who can claim that I was unfair, or unjust. Except for liars and those who still fail to see their sentencing here is mirrored in their free will in the mortal realm.
Persephone does not inspire whimsy in me for a task like this. She doesn’t inspire rage or a severe harshness. She simply sits beside me to observe and in that, she inspires additional patience. As I treasure the moment she has. Her first court in her throne. The first witnesses to her crown.
Court proceeds as such: the guard states the name, verdict by each Judge and then allows the soul a moment of appeal. When the Judges do not agree, that is where I am needed. Screams and cries are silenced with a wave of my hand. The first soul, a murderous thief screams out, tears streaming down his face when sentenced to a hell of listening to the screams of his eight victims and then the cries of their loved ones and then the silence of the funeral. Over and over again for a hundred years. At which time, he will be resentenced. The moment his scream begins, my hand is waved and the black tarp is placed over his head, silencing the cries as the man is made limp by the magic and he’s taken to his new home.
I glance at Persephone whose lips are parted in what appears curiosity and then her gaze catches mine. For a moment, something flickers between us. Something unprecedented. But then the next soul is announced.
After some time, Persephone’s hand relaxes in mine.
After a few more souls, the doors open to admit another.
This time, I wait.
The silence spreads across the hall. All the whispers and murmured conversations of the audience who watches over the cases, cease. The new soul waits, her head bowed, her eyes on the floor. A murderer, but of her captor. For weeks she contemplated, she could have run and left another upon her escape. Instead she ended the murderer and released the other prisoner. There was some deliberation among the Judges given her obsession with how she would kill him. In his sleep with boiled sugarwater. Painful. She craved his suffering.
The woman’s bottom lip wobbles as she stands before us silently. When asked her plea, she simply requests mercy in this life because she had none in the last.
Persephone squeezes my hand in a silent question.
I squeeze back. There is her answer.
She does not look to me for further debate, and I do not look at her. I give her the time she needs to consider the soul before us.
Persephone hesitates for one more moment, as if giving me a chance to stop her.
I do not.
She takes a deep breath, her grip tight on my hand. It is another thrill. Her softness and strength are there in her touch. Her compassion. I feel so much coming from her.
And I do not want to draw away from it. I do not want her hand to leave mine.
“You will go to Elysium,” Persephone says without a word from me, her voice as clear and steady as mine. “There, you will spend time in rest and contemplation until you are ready to return to the mortal realm for a new life. You will be safe there for as long as you wish. You may lay down your burdens.”
The soul exhales, her voice thick with relief. “Thank you, my Lady,” she murmurs. The audience murmurs as well, the sound reaching us. The guards do not hesitate, they allow Persephone the sentencing and move forward without pause. Excellent.
This is exactly what I intended. Persephone to rule, confidently beside me. I pray whispers reach the ears of Hekate. For the Titan will judge me as I judge the souls before me. I am sure of it.
More whispers follow. They get louder until the next soul is brought in.
This soul is already tormented.
As the judgements are heard and the soul is granted their moment to plead, I request of Persephone, “Again.”
She glances at me with wide eyes before nodding in agreement.
Persephone does not take as much time to speak once silence settles in the court.
“You will go to the Asphodel Meadows,” she proclaims. The soul sobs. “There, you may drink from the river Lethe. You may be reborn again.”