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My love is mad, and his madness infects us all.
The fault may lie within me. Hades saw me. Wanted me. Took me as his wife. I think that was the beginning of the end.
Once mortal souls poured down to us in a rushing, magmic torrent. They danced through the Underworld in wild currents and storms, and then flowed back up into the light of life. It was beautiful.
Until the day when Hades came to regret the loss of those souls, and decided to keep them. He built a wall to dam the flow of souls. The Underworld became stagnant; crowded with lost, trapped souls. Their power made him King. Their fears and desires shaped us both. The magnificent Sea of Souls fossilized into a shantytown.
My husband fights to keep what he has. He cannot see that the Sun must set before it can rise. He spends every moment reinforcing the wall so that no souls can slip through the cracks. He does not know that I am the one inciting longing for sunshine and clean rain in mortal souls, sparking the fires of rebellion that he brutally stamps out.
Orpheus’ song is piercing, burning sorrow. It gives me hope. Perhaps the madness of his love will infect us all. Perhaps the kingdom will finally fall, so that my Hades can rise again, joyous and free.