They had agreed to allow Calliope to know the truth.
Artemis still did not know how she felt about this. Apollo had said they must take on their destiny themselves. That it was theirs and theirs alone, but it had never felt that way to Artemis. Nothing they had ever been theirs. Not their home, which had been shared with the Muses. Not their mother, whom their father had always told them was his tragedy more than theirs: he had known her love and lost it, they should not ask him about her, it was too painful to share. Not their powers, the Tribunal told them how and when to use them. Not their destiny, which had been scrutinized and analyzed by the Tribunal.
To Artemis, this was comforting. Her powers had always felt too big for her anyway. Most of the time, she felt all she was was her powers, instead of her powers being part of her. That was the only thing that had ever been hers, alone: the fear of her touch, how she could hurt someone.
That fear drove her every action. Even now, it made her hesitate. Worry that she was not doing the right thing. They had not told Niobe of their plans, worried that she would tell their father, as was her duty as familiar and their protector. It felt wrong and deceitful to Artemis, who hated feeling wrong or deceitful.
It was only Apollo’s surety that guided Artemis now, as it always had when Artemis faltered. When she had first taken a life, it had been Apollo who had covered her hands with his own: never afraid, her brave brother. It had been Apollo who told her it was going to be alright.
He told her this now, shining brighter than Artemis had seen him in a long, long time, as they made their way to the lake, where Calliope would be waiting for them. And when they came upon their little sister, Artemis thought she might, for a moment, have felt what Apollo did. Her yearning for Calliope to smile at her the way she once had, on Piperi, when she would shyly ask if she could read her poetry for Artemis.
“Hello, Calliope,” she said, without hesitation as they moved towards her. Her eyes searched the girl’s looking for what Apollo had assured her way there.
The fact that Belle didn’t get along with poetry or the Muse of Epic Poetry.
Well, neither of those things were quite facts.
Belle did enjoy poetry. Sometimes. She was picky about the poet. Too much was left up to interpretation more often than not, and while Belle liked debating the meaning of a passage in a book, poetry was...different because there really was more often than not, no right answer, and that drove her absolutely insane. For every line there was another line that might possibly contradict it. And they always stood alone, so there was nothing else to reference it to.
Concerning Calliope, the situation was even more complicated. Belle didn’t want to not get along with the Muse of Epic Poetry. Hades was quite fond of her, and anyone that Hades liked was good in Belle’s book. (There were so few of them, really. Herself, Toulouse, Calliope...were really the only people coming to mind.) But, well, anyone would feel inferior to an original muse from the myths, who Homer evoked at the beginning of his epics. Who, in some life, had inspired those amazing stories which Belle had grown up reading and loving.
Belle didn’t inspire much of anything in anyone. She was just a little Mundus. And there was a part of her that felt insecure, no matter how much she pushed it down and ignored it, about Hades and Calliope’s relationship. You know, the whole, past lovers, soulmates, True Love business. How was she supposed to compete with that?
Not to mention she’d killed Calliope’s surrogate aunt-mentor-person. Right in front of Calliope’s eyes. There was that too.
All of these things pointed to Belle staying Very Far Away from the muse, but, she couldn’t do it any longer. She wouldn’t let herself. She had almost ten pages of scribbling, trying to decipher the poem that had come to her. She’d been given it--for whatever reason. Possibly just the Fates laughing at her. Lachesis probably thought it was particularly funny. She felt particularly hostile towards Belle for some reason, which was ridiculous because she was an all-powerful Fate. Anyways--
Belle knew she was useless and hopeless and, if she was going to (get someone else to) save Howl, she was going to need to talk to Calliope. So, she’d eventually wrestled her demons and her doubt and stolen Calliope’s number out of Hades’ phone, texting her and apologizing profusely before asking if they could meet up. It was important.
Of course, because Calliope was so nice and lovely and really Belle’s twisted stomach feelings were so unfounded and why was she so insecure? -- she said yes and Belle had instructed her to one of the smaller quads on PrideU’s campus. Belle got there early and sat on a bench, her notes spilling out of her notebook (the notes from trying to free Hades were there also) and in her lap, her hand protectively resting over the cover, was Howl’s Christmas gift to her, which apparently, held her salvation.
If only Belle was smart enough or magical enough or useful enough to figure out what it meant.
Journey to Hell Saga, Hades, Belle, Haku, and Persephone.
Mother Blue, a Seph and Hades one shot in the underworld.
Callie’s Nightmare
Previous Callie/Hades threads,
Part One: Clotho, Urania and Sally.
Part Two: Lachesis, Urania and Sally.
Ad Congregandum, ft. Callie, Howl, and Hades.
Blue Lullaby, a Hades one shot ft. Cassandra.
You Will Go, You will Return, Belle ft. Persephone.
Obituary, Hades and Belle.
Aliquid Venturus Est, Callie and Urania.
The Eye of a Seer, a Sally one shot.
Fate Comes Knocking, Hades, Belle, and Urania.
Neque Lumen, Urania and Belle.
The Pithos of Pandora, Urania, Calliope, and Hades.
Below the cut is a cliff notes version of this plot, but you should really read the whole thing because it’s Epic...
[tw for discussion of suicide and murder--nothing graphic just “this person committed suicide, this person was murdered.”]
Journey to Hell Saga w Helle
So, Hades and Persephone came to Swynlake seeking the Gates, guided by their “ghost mom” Agape (real name: Cassandra.) They found the Gates. Agape (Cassandra) told Persephone in order to go to the Underworld, she had to commit suicide. So, Persephone did.
Mother Blue, a Seph and Hades one shot in the underworld.
In the Underworld, Cassandra possessed Persephone’s body in order to come back to the world of the living to seek revenge.
Callie’s Nightmare
Callie has a nightmare of a murder and a suicide of two people who seem very familiar...but who are they?
Previous Callie/Hades threads,
As the Muse of Heroes, Calliope helps Hades get control of his powers that went haywire post-Persephone’s death. They get off to a rocky start, but it works out in the end. Hades gets it in his head that he’s going to summon Cassandra, force her out of Seph’s body and return Persephone.
Part One: Clotho, Urania and Sally.
Meanwhile, Urania is in Swynlake searching for the Gates of the Underworld. Unfortunately for her, her powers of being able to track people down have been blinded where the Ambassador (Hades) is concerned. As luck would have it, she meets another seer who just so happens to know Persephone and by extension Hades and saw where the Gates were when she saw Persephone’s death.
Part Two: Lachesis, Urania and Sally.
Urania and Sally venture to the Gates. Sally has a vision of the same murder/suicide that Callie had a nightmare about.
Ad Congregandum, ft. Callie, Howl, and Hades.
In which Hades successfully summons Cassandra and they learn a fascinating story. Cassandra was the Ambassador before Hades, she was in love with the previous Calliope, which was against the rules of the Order of Hesiod. They ran away because of their love, unfortunately, Urania tracked them down to drag Calliope back. She murdered Cassandra in cold blood. Calliope, coming across Cassandra’s body, took Urania’s knife from her and committed suicide.
Blue Lullaby, a Hades one shot ft. Cassandra.
Cassandra reveals that it is possible to give away the powers of the Ambassador. Hades exorcises Cassandra and accepts the fact that Persephone is not returning to the world of the living.
You Will Go, You Will Return, Belle ft. Persephone.
Persephone, hearing Hades calling her beyond the veil comes into an available body, her kitten, Vincent. She warns Belle that Urania is dangerous and that Hades should not be alone with her.
Obituary, Hades and Belle.
Hades brings Persephone’s body home to bury. Belle shares Persephone’s warning with Hades.
Aliquid Venturus Est, Callie and Urania.
Callie seeks the truth about Urania’s past with Calliope-prior and Cassandra. Urania lies and say that Cassandra was already dead when she came upon Calliope and Cassandra. With her magic, she forces Callie to give her Hades’ name.
The Eye of a Seer, a Sally one shot.
Sally has a vivid nightmare of Urania murdering Cassandra, Calliope committing suicide, as well as the death of Urania. In her dream, it is Belle who kills Urania in the end. Knowing that the only way to make this prophecy come true is to tell Urania it is Belle who will kill her, Sally delivers the news...
Fate Comes Knocking, Hades, Belle, and Urania.
Armed with the knowledge of the new Ambassador’s name, Urania heads to Belle and Hades’ to convince him to open the Gates. Belle doesn’t want to open the door, knowing Persephone’s warning. They listen to what Urania has to say. Hades reveals to Belle that he has been considering giving up his powers. Belle is shocked that he would ignore Persephone’s warning and go with Urania into the Underworld. (What she doesn’t know is that Urania--using her powers of epiphany--influenced Hades’ decision.) Eventually, Belle agrees to accompany him to the Gates, though she is not happy about it.
Neque Lumen, Urania and Belle.
In order to do away with the threat of Belle murdering her, Urania forces Belle to write a note to Hades, telling him that she cannot accompany him to the Gates and that she is breaking up with him. Then, for good measure, Urania kills Belle.
The Pithos of Pandora, Urania, Calliope, and Hades.
Meeting Hades and Calliope at the mouth of the river, after having murdered Belle, Urania hands Hades the coerced letter. Heartbroken having thought Belle left him, Hades forges ahead. At the Gates, though, at the last moment, he changes his mind. This does not sit well with Urania, who snatches Calliope and uses her as a hostage to convince Hades to open the Gates. He does so and they descend into it, entering the City of Dis, where in a dark, empty cellar there is a jar: the Pithos of Pandora, better known as Pandora’s Box. Urania opens it, releasing darkness and destruction across Swynlake and crowning herself Queen of this new world...
The Future is a Garden, Full of Flowers )O( [Homeric Epic]
In which Apollo, Artemis, and Calliope make plans for their future...[takes place before Apollo...yeeted]
@apollo-aegletus, @calliope-hesiod
[tw -- brief mentions of emotional abuse]
CALLIE:
“So that’s the plan?”
Callie sat cross legged on the forest floor. They’d met in the forest, because it was somewhere away from the prying ears and eyes of most of the town, a place that Artemis knew intimately. Callie liked the forest. She knew Bambi was here, somewhere. She wondered if he knew she was here. She wondered if he was just around the bend, listening. The thought of that comforted her a bit. She might not be able to see him, but he was here with her.
She dug her fingers into the soil. Apollo finished talking. He looked at her, as if asking a question. But Callie didn’t know what to say. Calliope, usually so bright and brilliant, usually guiding her with a golden light, could not help now. All Callie saw was what she’d told them: their father had lied and one of them would die.
One of them would die.
Callie looked at them now, her heart pounding. She’d just gotten them back. She didn’t want one of them to die. She didn’t want this life. She didn’t want a life where they’d all been lied to, where they’d been used like pawns in some twisted game, where they’d been robbed of the simple joys of childhood and thrust into some grand destiny. She wanted to run on the beach with Artemis and Apollo.
One of them would die.
“What happens after?” she asked, her voice small. “When you come back? What then?”
APOLLO:
No one was going to die.
If they continued the path they had been traveling all their lives, then yes-- they’d fulfill the prophecy as they intended to and pay the ultimate price. But he and Artemis had agreed that they needed to seize their own destinies now. It meant breaking all ties with their father, with the Tribunal. It meant, perhaps, never returning to Piperi again. But what did Apollo’s island home matter if he didn’t have Artemis in the first place? It didn’t.
They’d find another home instead, somewhere far away from everything they had always been. It pained Apollo to think that he wouldn’t be returning to Swynlake either, for here was the place he had spent the longest, besides Piperi, and he had been telling himself a beautiful fairytale...that this would be the place he rested once the prophecy was fulfilled. But he had to dream a new dream now. He was good at that anyway. Apollo had always known how to start over and become someone new.
So, one last time, he would remake himself.
And if she wanted, they could bring their dear little sister with them.
He smiled at Callie, trying to comfort her. He reached out to grasp her hand. “We’ll be going away-- starting over. I’m not sure where yet but...you should come with us,” he offered gently. “Leave Swynlake behind. It’s no more your home than it is ours.”
ARTEMIS:
Without Apollo, Artemis would never had been able to reorient herself onto a new path. Her compass would be broken. There would be nowhere to point it, but she knew--better than she ever had before--how much her brother had once sacrificed for her. It gleamed bright as the northern star, knowing that all he had sacrificed and been unhappy with had been a lie.
Guilty. She felt thick with guilt. It oozed through her like slick black oil and she wanted to reach for his hand. To tell him she was sorry.
But now was not the time for apologies. They would have a whole lifetime for apologies. A bright lifetime full of wonder. There was no path before them, but Artemis did not need one, as long as she followed in Apollo’s footsteps. And she would. No matter where he went, Artemis would go too. The whole world could burn, but with Apollo by her side, she would feel no guilt. Her obligation was to him and his happiness--the way he had watched over hers for so long.
Perhaps Nigerians had it right and the older twin was the one who came last: whom the younger readied the world for. Artemis would ready the world for her brother, this new, proud person that he was to be.
And they would bring their little sister with them, of course they would. Artemis would miss Piperi, more than Apollo, more than Callie, but with them both, she would not need a place.
“Our home is together, with each other,” Artemis affirmed. She did not grasp Callie’s hand, but her smile was warm. “We will come back for you and we will never leave one another again. No one will be able to take you from us, or us from you,” Artemis vowed.
“We chart our own course.”
CALLIE:
Her heart swelled. It swelled so much that it felt almost painful. She squeezed Apollo’s hand. This was her family. Artemis and Apollo were the closest thing she had to family. Closer than her own mother, who she had only seen for 14 days a year for most of her childhood. Closer than the Muses who treated her like a tool. They’d been robbed from her once, but she had them again and if this worked, if this actually worked — they’d never have to be apart again.
“We could go to Florida and meet my mom!” she said, eyes sparkling. “Or — or to Kenya to meet Kiara. Or both. We can go anywhere. We can — “
Her voice faltered. Something inside of her felt like it was screeching. That swelling of her heart turned sour, a deep pit opening up and draining all the happiness she’d just felt.
“I can’t. There needs to be a Calliope.” She cast her eyes downward. “There always needs to be a Calliope for heroes.” The Muses needed to be complete. Her place in life had been drawn up before she even opened her eyes, before she’d even formed a conscious thought. She was Calliope. She had to be Calliope.
Once, this was a destiny she embraced and looked forward to fulfilling.
Now, she looked back on the temple, on Piperi, and there wasn’t a corner of it that wasn’t tainted by Urania’s shadow.
But she had to go back. There needed to be Nine Muses. She had to bring Euterpe back. And even if she didn’t. Even if she let herself listen to that part deep inside of her that wanted to leave, wanted to crawl back to her mother, to Kiara, to follow Artemis and Apollo to the ends of the Earth, even if —
“And they’d find me,” she said. “That’s what happened to the previous Calliope.”
APOLLO:
Damn destiny.
Apollo had his fill of destiny for several lifetimes-- in fact, he felt like he’d lived them all within his 27 years. Ten different homes, ten different Apollos, ten different goodbyes. He gave and he gave and he gave, only to find that the ceremony of it all was empty. Was it a surprise that Callie spoke of the muses and he felt the same?
Why did there have to be nine muses? Why did there have to be a Piperi and a temple and tradition at all? He wanted to knock down all the pillars. Old men had built him and old men trapped women and children there. Maybe some didn’t see it that way-- maybe even his dear sister Artemis would argue with Apollo, say he was thinking with his heart-- but whether or not the whole thing needed to be burned to the ground, one thing was certain: their names should be burned from the pages.
Apollo looked to Artemis and if there was a reason they existed and their powers existed, maybe it was this, right here, right now. They’d use their powers to set themselves and Callie free.
“Not if they don’t know who you are,” Apollo said firmly. “My magic can erase this version of Calliope from their minds. And Artemis…” He raised his eyebrows at her.
Before, her ability to take magic had been thought of only as punishment.
But what if it could be a gift.
“Artemis, what if there was no magic for the Muses to track?”
ARTEMIS:
How strange, how quickly things had changed.
Artemis didn’t like it. Her brain felt like molasses, trying to comprehend these changes. She was trying to not think about it too hard. It was important that she stay focused. Apollo the sun that her planet revolved around, Calliope the star her course was being charted towards.
And when Callie spoke of the world as she saw it. The fear of being confined to a destiny she did not want, Artemis wanted to help break the shackles. Seeing them for ones of injustice. It had once been Artemis’ greatest honor to serve the Fates and destiny, but when they threatened her brother’s life? When her whole life had been lived with the understanding that after she fulfilled her destiny her twin and her would live happily ever after?
She could no longer see a destiny as anything less than a curse. She did not have a choice. If she were to give her brother the life he’d always wanted. The one he had always longed for, in the mornings when they greeted the sun, when he dreamed.
So, when Apollo looked at her and suggested what he did--
Artemis was not surprised. She had thought it herself. Their minds, one.
“I will take it from you, Callie. I will take it and we will shield you. We are stronger than the Muses. Than whatever new Urania is created by Fates. They underestimated us when they created us. We are more powerful than they could have ever imagined. If you wish, I will take Calliope from you and you can live a life you choose. The choice is yours.”
CALLIE:
It was a possibility Callie had never fathomed before.
Ever since she learned of her destiny, Callie had accepted it. It had to be this way. She, taken from her mother at the age of eight, sent across the world to a remote island off the coast of Greece, trained her whole life to serve others. No one ever said it outright but Calliope was one of the most important Muses — they all inspired artists, but Calliope inspired heroes.
So her fate was written for her before Callie even had a chance to comprehend it. Callie would grow up in Piperi. Callie would serve as every Calliope did before her, serving to inspire heroes, to use her magic to guide them. The temple, their grand home, their sacred space.
It felt more like a prison.
Callie couldn’t fathom going back. She couldn’t fathom walking those halls without thinking of Urania. She would have to spend the rest of her life shut in the temple — never again seeing her mother, her friends, her Kiara.
(Perhaps it did not have to be this way; perhaps things could be changed. But Callie was tired. Callie had her childhood robbed from her. Callie wanted to rest).
Calliope had to exist. Heroes needed to be inspired.
Calliope was —
Calliope was quiet in Callie’s mind.
Callie thought of the old Calliope, the one before her. The one who ran away to be with her lover. The one who defied the Muses first. The one who would rather die than fall back into Urania’s clutches.
Maybe it was not meant to be like this. Maybe there didn’t need to be an Order or a temple. Maybe the Muses did not need to be locked away. Maybe this was what Calliope wanted, secretly, deep down.
But maybe this was what Callie wanted.
Maybe that mattered more.
“Okay,” she nodded. “After graduation. We’ll do it then. When you guys get back. We’ll do it.”
Divine as Well as Human *|* [The Philosopher and the Poet]
“You go on ahead, Leda,” Urania said as they stood outside the train station, her voice heavy mist as she breathed out.
“Oh, but Missus, it’s so cold.” The Greek-born Leda was, in fact, shivering, despite the heavy coat she wore.
The air was brisk, that was true enough. Urania’s own skin was goosebumping beneath her jacket but she stood still despite this possibly being the coldest she could ever remember being in her life.
“No better time than the present to get used to it,” Urania declared, smiling at Leda. “I should learn to get used to it now, and this town. Wouldn’t want to get turned around, now would I?”
Leda gave a little chuckle and rolled her eyes. “Very funny, Missus. Fine, I’ll take the car, but I’m sure Miss Calliope will be disappointed you’re not there right away.”
“Calliope is a patient girl, she’ll be just fine.”
With a nod, Leda opened the passenger side of the car and got in. Urania watched the car go before heading down the platform steps and out onto the street. She knew exactly where she was going, as she always did--her innate sense of direction not going to mess her up in such a small town as this. It took a little less than an hour to get to the massive house at the end of the cul-de-sac. Urania had been deterred by the horrible girl, but finally, she was here.
For a moment, she stood outside, craning her head back. It was no Pieria Temple, but it was--rather nice, with big, white Greek columns outside the front of it. Four stories tall with her observatory at the very top, on its own fifth floor. She could see its glass ceiling from here. That was what she was looking at, with its anemometer at the very center, a globe perched atop it.
Looking forwards again, Urania walked up the horseshoe drive and the smooth stone steps and slid her key into the lock. It turned easily and she pushed open the door with hardly a creak. The thin heels of her boots clacked along the polished marble floor, turning her head, she spotted a mirror. Her cheeks were rosy from the cold, but otherwise not a hair was out of place. Going over to the railing of the staircase she called, unsure where the girl was.
The Pithos of Pandora *|* [Urania, Calliope, and Hades]
In which Urania gets what she wants...
@trip-downtheriverstyx, @calliope-hesiod
Want to catch up? Read in this order:
Journey to Hell Saga w Helle
Mother Blue, a Seph and Hades one shot in the underworld.
Callie’s Nightmare
Previous Callie/Hades threads,
Ad Congregandum, ft. Callie, Howl, and Hades.
Blue Lullaby, a Hades one shot ft. Cassandra.
You Will Go, You will Return, Belle ft. Persephone.
Aliquid Venturus Est, Callie and Urania.
Obituary, Hades and Belle.
Fate Comes Knocking, Hades, Belle, and Urania.
Neque Lumen, Urania and Belle.
[tw for thoughts of suicide, thoughts of death, a Hostage Situation (TM), violence, threats, lil bit of gore--not a lot]
HADES:
Today was Hades’ 21st birthday and he was going to open the Gates of Hell, find the Fates, and change his own. 21 years ago, he’d been born the ambassador; 21 years later, he was ending it.
He didn’t realize this until he waited on the path into the forest, which would take them, soon, to the Kohaku River, and then onward toward the Gates. He was alone, but would not be alone for long. He was meeting Belle here after she closed the shoppe for lunch. And Urania. And Callie. They’d come, one by one, then follow in his shadow to the place where shadows came from.
He wasn’t sure about this.
He’d been sure when he made the decision last night, when he stood with Belle and she told him no and he begged her, begged her (imagine that-- imagine Hades begging) to just listen to him. That he was tired and he wasn’t fit for this and he was done. He’d settle for the life of a medium, because that’s all he was supposed to be until the powers plucked him at random. Please, I want you to come, he’d said to her. I don’t want to do it alone.
He knew that Belle would bring her disappointment along with her. He knew that she disapproved. Maybe that’s why he felt like wiggling outta his own skin, the doubt seeping in. But this was right. Or-- even if it wasn’t right (because there was no right or wrong anymore, not to Hades), it was right for him. And the rest of the world too. The new ambassador would be someone equipped for the job. Good. And they’d be a secret to everyone, so they would have a chance to do it right from the very beginning.
He lingered on the path, reciting these reasons to himself. It didn’t feel like a birthday to Hades. It felt like his funeral. And he was-- almost-- relieved.
Eventually though, he saw Callie and Urania appear. Callie smiled at him from a distance; he couldn’t smile back. He cast his eyes behind them, then glanced down at his watch. Belle still wasn’t here though she should be.
“We’ve got to wait for Belle,” he informed both Urania and Callie when they arrived. As soon as he said it, Urania reached out and gave him a slip of paper.
Hades stared at it. For a beat, he didn’t do anything, just blinked. Then he snatched it and unfolded it.
Belle’s hand writing.
The message seared. He stared at it. He stared, unblinking. The words carved themselves into him. He read it twice, then a third time. He looked up toward the path as though he expected Belle to appear anyway, then down at the letter again. The words did not change. Something inside Hades did.
After nearly a minute, he folded it neatly back together. Once, then twice again. Hades slipped it into his back pocket.
“Nevermind,” he said smoothly. “Let’s go.”
URANIA:
No, Belle was not with them.
That just wouldn’t do, you see. For Belle was foretold to be the one who would kill Urania, and that wasn’t only ridiculous, but would no longer be an issue since she was currently bleeding out on the floor of her beloved bookshoppe. It was insulting, almost, to think some silly Mundus would be the one to end Urania’s soon-to-be glorious reign.
Urania didn’t know what Hades saw in her, honestly, she was doing the boy a favour in the long run. A Mundus couldn’t live in this world, a world of magic, of death, of premonitions and heroes.
It had been so easy to waltz into the shoppe, lock the door, hold a knife to Belle’s throat and make her write the letter abandoning her beloved. To her credit, Belle had fought—leaving her with a nasty gash on the side of her neck and a bruised cheekbone. When it had come down to it, though, she hadn’t even shed a tear as she wrote the fateful words. Which would’ve been mildly impressive if Urania cared, which she didn’t. Belle had made Urania promise not to harm Hades, once she’d given up her fight, which was an easy request to grant, seeing as Urania had no plans to harm him, what would that do? She’d have to go trekking off to find the new Ambassador. It had taken her twenty one years to find this one.
The poor thing had thought she’d be left alone after that. So, it was probably a rude awakening when Urania plunged her knife into the girl’s ribcage.
She had cried then, as they always do. Urania had waited until she was incapacitated, fallen to the ground—never to get up again—before she left the shoppe after having wiped the knife clean on the edge of Belle’s dress. The little bell dinged overhead and Urania locked the door with the keys she’d slipped out of Belle’s pocket—just in case.
Then, she’d stopped by the house to pick up Calliope and together they’d made the short trek to the beginning of the river, Urania letting Calliope take the lead, as if she had never been here before.
Her face was as solemn as it should be when telling someone the person they loved had broken their heart. Though inside she was giddy, light as a spring day. She didn’t let the smile she could feel itching in the corners of her mouth to slip through. Instead, she tilted her chin up a little and nodded once.
“After you,” she said softly to her dear Calliope.
CALLIE:
Callie felt like pins and needles and bees buzzing and electricity humming. Her mind felt like that, her heart felt like that, her bones, her muscles, right down her spinal cord and to the very tips of her fingers. She felt like someone had plugged her into a socket and now she was on edge, charged up, waiting, waiting, waiting to let all this electricity loose--
She didn’t like it. It made her feel antsy, made her feel anxious, made her want to cry (if she were being honest). She didn’t want to do this, to reach this Unfixable Moment. She just wanted to curl up next to Kiara and watch movies or meet Dr. Sweet for lunch--or see her mom again. She missed her mom.
But, no, this was her job. She had to be here. This was for Hades.
You know what the funny thing was, though? The stories weren’t really making sense right now. Hades wanted to lose his powers, but Callie didn’t see that happening. She saw something--well, it was weird and it was fuzzy and there was something about the girl with the books, something there, and she wanted to turn to that--but something was stopping her.
Hades was stopping her, his story was stopping her, because his story was the most important thing right now, thrust right in front of her face, so that she could not look any other way.
Urania was here and Callie still didn’t know how she felt about this all.
She was pins and needles and bees and electricity and she felt like everything was about to explode--
But she followed Hades as they started up the river, hands in the pockets of her jacket (it was England, it was never warm here, not the warm she was used to, so that meant, yes, jackets in August), consciously aware of Urania’s footsteps behind her.
Everything around her seemed to say this--the crunch of the forest floor beneath their feet, the rustle of the wind through the trees, the birds chirping through the woods (later, she would wonder if Bambi could’ve confirmed it all, if the forest knew what was going to happen before it did, if everything was just holding its breath in anticipation). Everything inside her seemed to say this as well--the little whisper in her head, the thrumming of her heart
“We’re almost here,” she said, suddenly raising her head, recognizing this area as if from a dream.
HADES:
The walk to the Gates was silent.
Any noises were far away for Hades. If Urania and Callie talked, he didn’t hear it. He was several steps ahead of them, his eyes forward, trying his best to ignore the note in his pocket that felt like a bag of stones. And when it didn’t work-- ignoring it-- he tried to reason through it.
He always knew this was going to happen-- Belle and him, breaking up. It had been ridiculous to assume that they could continue to play house. For nearly a year, he’d carried the a sense of foreboding toward his relationship, a sense that reminded him of the feeling he got when he knew people were going to die.
It was a dead thing, see. His relationship. Just another dead thing. It had been dead before it started.
And it was for the better, continued Hades. Eventually one would have to break up with the other. He was grateful to Belle for being stronger than him, less selfish-- more clear-headed. He’d long lost the ability to pick through the shrapnel of his feelings. He’d clung to Belle because she was safe and warm and a familiar thing, that was all.
He could go somewhere else now. As soon as he emerged from hell with the shackles of his legacy discarded, there would be no hell hounds on his heel, no unfinished ties, no reason to stay. He could take his ghosts, pack up his things, and go.
The leaves shuffled underfoot, river babbling beside him. It reminded him of the ocean, and then he was thinking about the beach, walking hand-in-hand with Belle, how normal it had felt.
Maybe if he got rid of his powers and showed Belle he could be that boy again-- the one who walked with her on that shore—no.
She wouldn’t take him like that. Belle had always wanted fantastic. Anyone who talked to Belle for more than a few minutes could figure that out, because she was a girl with her head in the books, who longed for a story of her own. Hades had been a very good story to Belle, but in the end he couldn’t live up to her heroes, all those men who made the right decisions and said romantic things. She would find someone else. Swynlake was full of bookish heroes. One of them wouldn’t let her down.
His feet stopped abruptly, Callie echoing his thoughts. The river had become as thin as a hairline, trickling into nothing. He expected to feel nervous, but he didn’t. This was just the end, and ends came eventually, so why be nervous about them?
He held out his hand for Callie.
URANIA:
Urania had been waiting for this for years. Ever since she was twenty-one herself and she came across an inscription on a Greek vase about an object. An object that would allow whoever opened it to control the demons that sprang from it. That changed the way the world was seen. It would, essentially, make Urania a queen. She didn’t necessarily want to rule, to be honest, she wanted to be worshipped.
Unfortunately, those two things were going to have to go hand in hand.
No matter, Urania would do what needed to be done. She did not care what bridges she burned to get there. She knew that Calliope was not entirely happy with her, but she had a soft heart, she would forgive her dear aunt.
Her heart beat faster the narrower the river got and she couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face as they got closer. Though, once Hades turned to her and Calliope, she schooled her features, lifting her chin and watching him with careful, analytic eyes. This was going to work. It had to. Urania had not spent half her life on nothing.
CALLIE:
She took Hades’ hand and nodded at him. Her heart still felt like it was full of pins and needles and buzzing and she could hear it in her ears, thump-thump-thump. Hades’ hand was cool to touch. He had long fingers and over the course of the past few weeks, she had grown used to touching his hand. It felt like a comfortable memory, which she now knew was because the old Calliope had held hands with the old Ambassador so often. But still, it made her feel a little safer right now, and she took a deep breath and looked straight ahead.
It was more frantic now, almost like a warning, though she knew there was nothing she could do.
She swallowed, looking straight, but then turning to Hades, dark eyes meeting bright blue.
“Lead the way, I will be right here,” she said, and when she spoke her voice echoed with the Calliopes before her--particularly the Calliope right before her, the one who had held the hand of a pale girl who could yield blue fire and talk to the dead, who had said the same words before plunging into the dark.
HADES:
Callie’s hand slipped into his, and the nerves grew quiet. Everything was quiet in him, including the newborn sadness and the tangled confusion regarding the note. Instead, he felt a humming through his vein, a humming he recognized. It would crackle and spit and then flicker with his fire. It wouldn’t be hard.
He walked with Callie in hand then, right up to the very end, the slip of the Kohaku evaporating into nothing. A wind tickled at the leaves that had gathered over this patch of earth. It looked so mundane. No one would expect the ground to open up, to give way-- only a few could feel the thrumming below their feet (a thrumming in time with Hades’ blood).
Last time, he’d stood here with Belle and opened the Gate with her. Callie’s hand in his suddenly felt like a foreign object. She had long, thin fingers. Belle had smaller hands. Rough finger tips from turning page after page after page. But soft palms.
Hades hesitated, once again thinking of the note, though his blood was alive, the fire ready to sing. He tried to ignore it once again, lifting his hand, conjuring a flame that whispered against the air.
His fire’s blue reminded him of Belle-- the bookshoppe-- how everything had been washed in that blue while the snowstorm raged outside the windows and how it was inside that blue light they had met each other. It was that same blue that had filled the trailer and scared the revenant away and saved Lou and saved Belle. It was the colour of his heart.
He dropped Callie’s hand abruptly, but the fire was still alive on his fingers. It did not burn or bite, even now without Callie and her powers to help centre him. He knew the centre of his powers, something that was not anger. The centre could be light.
All he had to do was guide the flame to the river to set the water on fire, so it would burn blue too, bright and then brighter. But he didn’t. He closed his fist around the fire and it went out and he looked toward Urania.
“I can’t do this without Belle,” he said curtly and then pulled away from Callie-- turning his back on the river.
Maybe he wouldn’t do this at all.
URANIA:
Urania felt the excitement humming in her veins, if she didn’t know better, she would think that she was vibrating with the anticipation of it. She could feel the magic swelling around them, like a great crescendo. Her smile widened, turning slightly manic. Close, close, close--so close, she heard the words like a heartbeat inside of her.
And then, suddenly, the blue flame snuffed out and so did the magic, so did the forward momentum.
Urania’s smile turned immediately into a scowl, all of her careful composure cracking and then exploding outwards like a mirror shattering, showing the ugly truth hiding beneath. The darkness flashed deep in her eyes and she felt the anger strike at her heart like lightning.
“What?” she snarled at once.
But, she could feel the switch she had flipped, flipping back the other way. It shut off before she could react properly, stuck in the off position. Her magic thrust out helplessly towards him anyways, as if she could make it happen anyways. It blast against him and curled into nothingness.
“Do it!” she shrieked at him, her voice reaching a pitch it had hardly ever reached before, her accent slipping in her anger.
Both Hades and Calliope had turned towards her--startled.
She didn’t have time for this. Taking one, two, three steps closer, she grabbed Calliope’s bicep tightly. It was a good thing that Hades had dropped her hand. She twirled the girl against her, grabbing her dagger from the sheath inside of her jeans in the same motion (this was not the first time she’d done this.) She pressed the edge of the blade against Calliope’s throat, right at her carotid artery.
“Do it,” she snarled again.
CALLIE:
The minute he mentioned Belle, Callie started seeing things. Her breath hitched slightly and the hand that Hades had just dropped curled into a fist and it was as if she was not standing in the forest anymore. She felt like she was floating.
She saw images, blurry, foggy, hard to make out--
She saw Belle, bleeding.
And she opened her mouth about to say something, because her heart was pounding, pounding and Belle was on the floor and--
Urania shouted. Callie snapped out of it, back in the forest, back with both feet on the floor.
She saw it happen right before it did, as always, a few seconds before, and she couldn’t do anything.
Callie felt Urania grab her before Urania did actually wrap her fingers around Callie’s upper arm. She felt the blade of the knife dig into the smooth flesh of her neck seconds before the blade was actually there. She saw it all and she could do nothing--she was pulled along, she was just like a doll, a pawn in this whole scheme.
“Urania,” she said, knife at her throat, trying to twist her head to look at Urania in the eye. Her voice wasn’t loud, wasn’t screaming. It was raspy, soft, pleading. “You can’t do this--this isn’t how it’s supposed to end--”
She looked at Hades now, taking a shaking breath.
Her heart pounded in her throat, she wondered if Urania could feel her pulse near her fingers.
She thought of another forest, far far away, where bodies dangled from treetops, where the blood of a beautiful pale girl who could whisper to ghosts, who had a brilliant blue flame, soaked through the forest floor and Urania stood above the body and she didn’t care what happened only that--
Only that it did. Only that it did and anyone in the way would be disposed of. Callie saw that now.
Something’s coming. Something’s coming.
I can’t stop it, Callie thought and with each ragged breath, the knife pressed more into her neck. She knew if she just moved slightly, Urania would not hesitate to slash it against her throat. And then she would be dead--useless and dead. She wouldn’t have helped anyone.
But if her death meant that Hades got away--got his story straightened out, well, maybe it would be one big apology to Cassandra and to the previous Calliope.
You can let me die, she thought hard, looking at Hades, wondering if he could even figure out what she was thinking, wondering if he would listen or if the thing that was coming would happen anyway.
HADES:
Urania screeched like a vulture, chilling Hades’ blood in a split second. He started as his feet stopped in place like he’d just wandered into cement. And when he looked back at her, he saw everything as it happened, not seconds before. It was like a flash of lightning-- too fast to grasp until it was over, and Urania clutched at Callie, knife to the throat.
He saw another flash too. It was a memory he’d seen before from Cassandra, the memory of that knife plunging into him, over and over. It had seared and burned like ice. When Cassandra had fallen to the ground, all she’d felt was that cold, as she stared up at the cover of trees and wished to see the stars, and her beloved’s face.
Now Hades’ beloved had fled from him and Callie was the one with the tip of the knife against her throat. Hades felt that cold-- until he smashed through it, and he turned it hot.
His hands lit on fire and he took a step toward Urania with his eyes wide and hard. “What the fuck are you doing? I’ll burn you alive.”
Just as Cassandra asked him to do--
Maybe he should have listened.
He should have listened to Belle. At least she was far away from here. At least she wouldn’t be harmed.
URANIA:
Urania, you can’t do this! It isn’t how it’s supposed to end.
Oh, silly Calliope. Young, impressionable Calliope. Didn’t she know that stories were already written? Sure, the path that got one to the end could change. (Such as Urania’s end not being met by Belle), but there were things that were fixed. Nothing happened that was not supposed to happen. This was all going according to plan.
Well, Hades refusing to do as she asked was not, but that was alright. Urania could improvise. Unlike stupid Hades, she did not have qualms about victims. She did not have passions of the heart to cloud her judgement. She could tell Hades now that there was no way to do this with Belle, for she was already waiting for him on the other side, but, she was more interested in seeing his face when he saw her ghost, drifting and lost as many victims of murder were.
Calliope would do as a hostage just fine. Hades had a soft heart. She could see it in his hard eyes.
Urania moved Calliope a little closer to herself, so that the girl made a shield out of her body. They were about the same height. Urania just the slightest bit taller. Both thin.
She chuckled lightly, pressed the knife deeper into Calliope’s soft skin so it made a little popping noise and the smallest bit of blood trickled down to her shirt collar.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” she purred. “Just open the Gates and Calliope is free to go. Come now, Hades, you don’t want more blood on your hands, do you?”
CALLIE:
She could do nothing.
She saw what was going to happen. Nothing she could do right now would change it. If she died, it would happen. If she lived, it would happen.
Callie closed her eyes and she thought of Kiara kissing her sweetly, her lips tasting like bubblegum. She thought of running through these woods with Bambi. She thought of laughing at lunch with Dash, Jake, Flounder, and Ariel. She thought of doing nails with Deb and Kiara. She thought of chatting with Dr. Sweet during his lunch break and of popping by to say hello to Sheriff Russell at the station and of helping Simba bring in snacks from the kitchen.
She thought of her mother, back in Florida. She was supposed to see her soon, for her mom’s birthday.
She just wanted to see her mom.
Callie opened her eyes and a few tears trickled out. Nothing she could do right now would change what was going to happen but--she didn’t want to die.
Not anymore.
“It’s going to happen,” she said, voice hoarse. She could feel a trickle of something down her throat, the sharp pain now apparent. “Whether she kills me or not--it’s going to, Hades.”
HADES:
Being told that no matter what he did, the something he’d been warned of was going to happen anyway was not a good way to convince Hades to do something. It just made him want to very much prove Urania and Callie wrong. Especially because, if Callie died-- she wouldn’t have any leverage. It would be the end. He’d pull Urania toward him and set her on fire. He’d grab the knife from her and then plunge it into her own chest. He’d slash her, he’d choke her, he’d win.
Callie was wrong, see. Callie was wrong. It wasn’t going to happen, if he just let Callie die. And maybe he should.
It was that cold pragmatism that had led him to kill Persephone. He’d believed himself above the law of the dead. She’d been a sacrifice he made at the time and now he paid for it every day. In fact, her body was mere metres from here, buried up the stream where there were still green things-- where life could grow. He could bury Calliope beside her. He could dump Urania’s ash into the river. Hades knew he could do all of these things because he was a creature of ice and fire and both could destroy.
Hades thought about letting Callie die then. He pushed away the lingering parts of this soul of his familiar with hers. He pretended like he didn’t know what it felt like to hold her hand. He looked at her, tears on her cheeks, and knew he could twist this sight from one of pity into one of disgust. He was a chessmaster, wasn’t he-- Calliope a pawn, and Urania the queen. Sacrifice her and checkmate.
It was easy to decide things if you thought of them like that. Like chess.
If he did all that, he would not learn from his mistakes past fall. If he did all that, he knew it would come back to haunt him later. If he did all that… if he did all that…
This was his choice in the end. Callie was wrong, there was a choice. There was always a choice. And what would Belle do? What would Seph do? What was right?
He’d open the Gates and maybe he wouldn’t save every soul but-- he’d save one.
“You’re wrong, Calliope,” he told Callie that now and then the flame ignited on his hand. “If she dies, you die. You know that,” he said that to Urania and began walking toward the river again, the flame in his hand like a lantern in this shadowy part of the wood. He got to the edge of it and knelt by the stream. It trickled quiet. If he closed his eyes, he might hear Kohaku whisper to him.
Last time, he opened the Gate with a roar. This time it was with that whisper. He lit the water with the tip of his finger, like lighting a single candle. The fire spread instantly, running wild up and down the water, the flames rising in the air. Where the water ended, the group opened. He heard that sound rise from its void: a train hurtling down its tracks, straight toward them. Nothing would come. It was the Underworld rising from slumber.
The flames flickered, crackled, and popped as Hades rose from his knees. He looked down at Urania, silent, waiting for her move, watching the knife.
URANIA:
Urania was not worried, she felt the decision flicker in his brain, but it almost always flickered. There was hardly a time that someone was faced with letting someone live or die that they did not hesitate, did not weigh the options. Urania had come to recognize that in her years. She had seen plenty of people try to sacrifice someone else to save their own skin. These people were cowards. Hades was not a coward. He may be defeated, and a little bit broken, but he was not scared. If anything, he was angry.
Urania liked that. Cassandra had been a soft thing, for the most part. A bit off-kilter, a bit power-hungry, but soft and gentle.
This was refreshing.
She didn’t let Calliope go as she watched with sharp, dark eyes that glistened in the low light as Hades knelt by the trickling stream and lit it blue. The eerie light lit up the clearing and Urania hummed in satisfaction.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” she asked, leaning her head against the side of Calliope’s, her free hand stroking lightly at her hair as the earth rumbled around them, crumbling into the dark. Her heart was pounding in her chest but she held the knife steady against Calliope’s throat.
When the trembling stopped, she looked at Hades first. She knew how this had to go--the muses had cared for the Ambassadors for thousands of years. Though, she hadn’t planned on Calliope in between them like a buffer, but, well, contingencies were not out of the ordinary. It only took a little mental adjusting before her new plan fell into place.
“Alright, dear,” she said, looking at Hades, “take Calliope’s hand, we must all be connected. Hurry along now, that won’t stay open forever.” She gestured with the knife, bringing the point dangerously close to Calliopes’s eye and cheek.
Once Hades grabbed hold of Calliope’s hand, she dropped the knife to Calliope’s back, taking her other hand up in her own, the tip pressing in through the thin fabric of her shirt. Children these days, they didn’t know well-made clothing for anything.
“Lead the way, Ambassador,” she purred at him, nodding a little with her head towards the stairwells that would take them down and down.
CALLIE:
There was a knife pressed against her back by the woman who had raised her, who had driven the previous Calliope to commit suicide. Callie should have known this, the voices had told her, her dreams had told her--she just had not wanted to believe it. She had wanted to believe that Urania was a good person.
She still did not know why Urania was doing this.
Hades’s hand in hers made her feel slightly better. Slightly.
There was nothing she could do. It was as if the Fates of old had spun this tale and set it, like Oedipus doomed to kill his father and marry his mother, like all the other heroes who could never escape their fate, though they tried.
(Though as she tried to picture them, the Fates were not three wizened old women, but rather three young ones, not much older than her, secretive little smiles on their faces as they spun their tale).
Callie followed. She followed into the dark, knife pressed against her back, because straight on was the only way she could go.
HADES:
Hades could have fought. Maybe. There was a brief flicker of rebellion inside him, lasting barely longer than a blink. But it died like all things because there was still a knife to Callie’s back and no place for him to return to and he didn’t know why Urania was so insistent on him giving up his powers-- and he saw now, spell broken, it had been her voice spinning a tangled web in that head of his-- but it felt pointless to fight. Some of those things that voice had uttered to Hades to convince him were still shoved so deep inside his skull that he couldn’t dislodge them even now.
He just saw dead bodies everywhere. Seph’s dead body, Cassandra’s, Calliope’s-- and Callie’s if he let her die.
So he turned toward the yawning mouth of the Underworld and let Callie slip her trembling hand into his before he walked down into it without another word. The torches on the sides of the wall lit as he walked toward them, shining light on the steps to come. And as soon as they passed, they snuffed out, like they’d never been there.
Halfway down the one stone staircase, Hades heard a grinding of bones as the gates curled shut.
There are nine rings of the Underworld. When a soul dies, it finds its path and it winds its way through to its home. Its journey is surrounded by forest on both sides, where lost souls whisper to try to bring the soul into the trees.
But Urania, Callie and Hades were not dead souls. There was no one, single path for them, but hundreds, criss-crossing through. Urania shoved Hades down one of them and ordered him to walk.
They passed through the rings, the journey taking no time at all-- for time does not live in the world of the dead:
Through Lust-- all darkness for lust turns mortals blind. There are muddy slopes you have to climb as the winds blow and try to push you down.
Through Gluttony, through Greed, through Wrath, which is all a swamp you row through. Treasures glint through the gunk-- temptations all. The greedy have sank with their treasure; the gluttonous hunt on top of the waters in their own boats and die a hundred deaths every day.
The wrathful have all turned into the monsters that swim underneath.
Hades looked forward, not down, as they rowed and rowed.
And then they arrived at the City of Dis where the sixth, seventh, and eighth rings are contained. Its great gray walls stretched into the foggy sky. On the other side is a jigsaw of a city: buildings stacked on buildings, alleyways that lead to cliff-drops, streets like swiss cheese that crumble a little more every day. Inside the City of Dis are the heretics, the liars, panderers, seducers, the violent-- murderers and rapists.
On the other side of Dis is Suicide, the darkest forest, full of nothing but silence.
They didn’t make it to Suicide.
They dodged through the streets of Dis instead. They climbed down steep stairs that clung to the side of a building, nothing but darkness on the other side. They went deeper and deeper until they arrived in a cellar.
Urania shoved Hades into it. There was no one here. There was nothing here. Nothing but a box, covered in dust, sitting in the center of the room.
Hades had lit his fire for warmth and light and now he turned to Urania, feeling a chill anyway. “The Fates aren’t here, are they?”
CALLIE:
She had seen these places before, as if in a dream. Callie had read about these places, of course. That was a basic requirement of Muse training. She remembered reading about the Underworld as a child, Urania at the far end of a solid oak table, instructing her to read from The Inferno out loud and in Latin.
She remembered reading out loud and as she spoke, she saw the dark spires of a city, the mist settling over the swamp.
And she walked forward and instead of Urania gently guiding her lessons, Urania had a knife pressed against her back.
Something is coming, the voices whispered to her as they walked through the streets. They grew louder and louder and Callie felt her heart beat faster, wanting to lift her head up to see beyond the dark crevices of the streets.
And as they went to a little room, barren and empty except for a dust-covered box, there was one final whisper.
It is here.
They were the something, Callie realized, a sickening feeling rising her stomach. They were coming here. To this room, to this box, this was what Urania wanted, this was--
She knew what was in front of them and felt her heart lurch.
The voices that normally guided her were silent. There was nothing she could do at this very moment, not with the knife pressed against her back like this. She held her head up high and even though she felt like crying, she did not let a single tear drop from her eye.
“Pandora’s Box,” she whispered, to Hades to let him know, to Urania to let her know she was aware.
URANIA:
Some might be scared entering into the depths of the Underworld, but not Urania. She smiled the whole way She smiled at the distant sound of wailing, of the glittering treasures in the murky waters that they moved over. Perhaps, if she was not so focused, if she was interested in trivial things like money--these would be temptations to her. But there was only one thing she wanted.
Her grip was tight on Calliope’s arm as she guided her into the city. She kept a knife at the girl’s back for as much time as she could. Occasionally it was not possible with the perilous climate that they were hiking through, but Calliope’s spirit was broken in this moment, Urania knew it. The poor soft thing, so lost. She was more likely to stray off the path than Urania was, she needed to keep a careful eye on her charge.
As they reached the dark, dismal cellar, Hades’ flame the only thing lighting the room.
Urania smiled wide at the dusty wooden box. Stepping over to it, she dragged Calliope along, holding onto her arm firmly, keeping her all the while between herself and Hades. She tutted and shook her head slightly at Calliope.
“Haven’t I taught you anything?” Urania said as she let Calliope go for just long enough to pry the lid of the box open--it disintegrated into nothing.
In its place stood a gleaming jar, about waist height, with two ornate handles on either side. It glimmered dimly in the light of Hades’ flames. It was beautiful. Her hand stroked lightly over it as she circled it once before tugging Calliope closer to her--talking all the while.
“This is the pithos of Pandora. Silly scholars got the translation wrong. A pity really, “box” does nothing to explain the grandeur of such an object. Would you like to know what is inside?” She chuckled a little, the sound bouncing around the walls, out of place and without a home to settle in within such a dark place.
“Only the power to turn this horrible little town great. We’ll be worshipped, Calliope, as we should be. Those who treat us well will be rewarded with success and inspiration. Those who do not--” her eyes flicked to Hades “--will perish. Really, it’s not so bad. As long as everyone follows our orders, no harm shall come to them.”
As she said this, she took a step back, her forearm around Calliope’s neck. She poked the tip of her dagger under the seal of the lid. The magic within buzzed with an electricity that shot up her arm. It was old and it was longing to be released, far too long it had been cooped up down here, the demons trapped inside unable to spread their wings properly.
With one good thrust, she slipped the blade inside of the lid, which popped off with a tremendous boom that shook the walls and made Urania’s ears ring as the clay lid fell to the floor. A great black cloud shot out of the top, up through the ceiling it went, up and up and up through every ring until it burst in the sky and settled over Swynlake like an ominous raincloud.
Aliquid Venturus Est *|* [The Philosopher and the Poet]
In which Calliope confronts Urania about her past...
@calliope-hesiod
Want to catch up? Read in this order:
Journey to Hell Saga w Helle
Mother Blue, a Seph and Hades one shot in the underworld.
Callie’s Nightmare
Previous Callie/Hades threads,
Ad Congregandum, ft. Callie, Howl, and Hades.
Blue Lullaby, a Hades one shot ft. Cassandra.
You Will Go, You will Return, Belle ft. Persephone.
[tw for talk of murder/death]
CALLIE:
Callie had spent the past few days thinking about Urania. More specifically, she had been thinking about the dream she had had of Urania all those months ago and about how she had not known it was Urania at the time. Usually when Callie dreamed, she had such full and utter control of her dreams. She could turn her head this way and that, walk in one direction instead of the other, watch from afar, watch from up close--her own dreams, and the ones where she dreamed of either people.
The nightmare she had had in October was different.
She wasn’t behind the camera then, not changing the shots, not altering the script, not working the camera angles. She was in it. She couldn’t change it.
She hadn’t been able to turn her head when she first dreamed it.
But now--
Now as she replayed it in her head, now, ever since Cassandra had appeared in the fire and ever since Cassandra had uttered Urania’s name, Callie could turn her head as she replayed that dream and she saw.
She saw Urania standing tall, silver knife in her hand, dripping with Cassie’s (sweet Cassie, dear Cassie, her Cassie) blood. When she lunged towards Urania in the dream, reaching for the knife, she saw every movement on Urania’s face--there was not much. Urania kept her face still, expressionless.
And when Calliope (the previous Calliope, not Callie, not Callie Angela Harper) plunged the knife into her chest, she held Urania’s dark, steady gaze the whole time.
There had to be another explanation.
Cassandra was--Cassandra was unstable, that was clear. Callie couldn’t see much of her story, but she had seen how Cassandra acted when she was summoned, how her voice trembled, the look in her (Seph’s) eyes.
But then, she knew when she looked at Cassandra, when she looked at Hades, she felt a pang in her chest that she had never known before.
Callie decided to ask Urania about it.
Callie did not get scared easily, but as she walked towards Urania’s study, in the other wing of their house. It was evening and the hallway to Urania’s study did not have any windows and was decorated by old, imposing works of art--depictions of Classical scenes, mostly, battles for glory, armored men with bloody weapons.
She swallowed and then held her head up high, walking towards the door at the end of the hallway, her footsteps not making any noise against the soft red carpet.
When she reached the mahogany doors, Callie knocked once.
“Urania,” she said, pressing her face closer to the door. “Are you busy? I need to ask you something.” She took a deep breath. “It’s about the old Calliope.”
URANIA:
Grading was the bane of Urania’s existence these days. The students didn’t understand the concept that she was trying to get across to them. Half just bullshitted their answers, which were easily seen through and the other half didn’t even do the assignment to begin with. This was a summer course. How could the students be so ridiculously unmotivated? They’d chosen these classes to take. And if the answer was because they had signed up for Astronomy because it was easy, well, then, they deserved the F’s that they were sure to receive.
All the bullshit was giving Urania a headache. She had her shoes off, one of her legs tucked under her--intermittently rubbing at her temple or the arch of her foot, depending on where the pain migrated at any given moment.
So lost in her thoughts was she that she did not notice Calliope creeping upon her door until the knock sounded. Urania’s head snapped up, head tilting at the door as she brushed some of her hair back from her face.
When Calliope’s musical voice floated through the door, she smiled a little.
“Yes, darling, come in.”
The thought of speaking of the old Calliope was not daunting to her at all. Calliope prior had been a dear friend of hers, someone who she missed as much as Urania could kill anyone. What a waste her death was. At least it had brought her this Calliope, whose face appeared around the door, her lips drawn down in a frown.
“Please, have a seat.” Urania pulled her other leg up into the chair so that it was bent at the knee, her skirt falling around her thighs. “What is it, sweetheart? What would you like to know? I am an open book, you know this.” She smiled sweetly at Calliope.
CALLIE
She thought to herself again, Cassandra must have been wrong. Cassandra had stolen Persephone’s body. Cassandra had broken a dozen and a half rules. Cassandra had led an innocent girl to her death and had not let the body return to the earth, she had stolen it and walked around in it and tainted it.
Urania had never done anything like that. Urania could be cold at times, yes, and she valued order above all but she was logical, she was direct, she acted for the good of the Order, for the good of the people they were inspiring.
“I had a dream about her,” said Callie, taking a seat on an ottoman. She curled her legs beneath her and linked her fingers together, resting her hands on her lap. “It was this dark forest. There were...dead bodies everywhere.” She swallowed, looking at the patterns on the carpet in Urania’s office. “She was running…”
She wondered how much she should let Urania know and bit down on her lip, before flicking her eyes back up to Urania
“There was another person there. Her name was Cassandra. She was tall and she had pale skin and pale hair and...she was dead. Calliope ran to her and she was dead,” said Callie, swallowing.
You killed her, she wanted to add, but something told her not to--it felt like when she was trying to guide a story, a little feeling that curled up in the back of her head and told her to keep that part quiet.
“And then in the dream I--I mean, Calliope--killed herself afterwards,” she said, taking a deep breath. She had relieved that moment over and over again, since October when she first had the dream. She knew how the hilt of the dagger felt, how the tip of it cut into her skin, how it felt to die.
“Why did she do that?” Callie asked. “Who was Cassandra?”
She knew the answers to these questions already, really. Calliope had loved Cassandra. Cassandra was the Ambassador. But she wanted to hear it from Urania.
URANIA:
This was not what Urania had been expecting, but it was not altogether unexpected.
Many of the muses had dreamlike visions. Urania had them herself. She had dreamed of that same forest, with bodies everywhere--dark and morbid. She had dreamed of it and the two lovers inside who had thought they could hide from her there. Her powers had granted her the privilege of seeing to what needed to be done, her powers knew that it was for the greater good, for the Order.
She kept her face carefully blank, only painting on it the expressions she wished to: a slight pucker of her brow, the smallest downturn of her lips. A face of mild concern, empathy at someone having such a horrible dream
When Calliope had finished, Urania dropped her legs to the ground and glided around her desk, so that she was perched on the chair next to Calliope. She reached her magic out towards her, slow and subtle, prowling toward the girl, waiting for it’s moment to pounce, when Calliope was on the verge of a decision--a decision about Urania, one that she would knock to the ground and replace with a sense of surety.
“I have not told you much about the demise of Calliope prior because it pains me to do so…” Pause for emphasis. “I was there when she took her own life.” Urania nodded solemnly.
“The woman, Cassandra--” and here, Urania’s face twisted a little. Oh, did she hate that vile woman. “She was an Ambassador, a charge of Calliope’s, as one usually is. And, well, they fell in love. They ran away together because the Order did not approve of such a union. In fact, it broke several rules, as I’m sure you know.” She let her lips twitch in a bit of a smile.
“Calliope was my friend, so, I found her in that terrible, terrible wood. The Suicide Forest, in Japan. I followed her there, but--I was too late.” Urania sat back and frowned, turning her head to look out her office window, which had the forest unfurling beyond it. She really was frowning--but it was not sadness, more like--annoyance.
“I do not know what happened to Cassandra, only that those woods were dark and evil and filled with many terrible things. Before I could react--convince Calliope to come home with me, she killed herself with my dagger.”
Urania let out a heavy sigh and turned back towards Calliope. “I blame myself for their deaths. If I--had just been a little earlier, maybe I could have spared them both such horrible ends.”
CALLIE
There were two factors at play here: Urania’s magic, prodding towards Calliope, urging her to make a decision, to have an epiphany, and Callie’s own magic, whispering to her the story--the real story, the one she had heard from Cassandra, the one she had seen, where Urania was standing over Cassandra’s body and the knife--the knife had blood on it already.
There was something that was going to happen soon.
That was a vague statement. Callie recognized that. But it whispered in the back of her mind, curled tight around her neck.
Something is going to happen, something is going to happen…
And this was one of those things--one of the things she had learned about in her lessons, pouring over the notes and journals of the old Calliope’s before--one of those things that was fixed. That she could not change, could not stop from happening. It was going to happen. She did not know what it was, but she felt it deep in her bones, a rumble, felt like she was standing at the edge of a bridge, eyes closed, hanging off, that one little misstep and everything would happen all at once.
Something was going to happen. Callie knew this. Something was going to happen that she could not stop--but a lot of things were going to happen because of that One Thing and well, she could fix those, she could…
Callie’s magic held off Urania’s for now, swirling around Callie. Callie, now, did not realize this, instead, she bit her lip and looked up at Urania.
“I talked to her,” said Callie, finally finding the words. “Because I was helping someone and we--I saw it in a vision. I had to help him find her. I didn’t know what she was, only that she...she stole his sister’s body.” She swallowed and said nothing else.
URANIA:
Urania could feel Calliope’s magic pushing back against her own. It was annoying, but she simply let it hover for the moment, the two energies drifting in the air together. This magic knew each other—they could work in perfect tandem, sometimes, like they were meant to. Calliope with visions of heroes, Urania with the skills to guide them together.
This Urania and Calliope had not had time to do that yet. She had only done it a few times with Calliope prior. But, one day, one day soon, Urania hoped, they would be unstoppable in their collection of heroes. Calliope would be invaluable to her in this new world. Hopefully once she saw how people worshipped them, she would learn to come around. And Urania could be a benevolent ruler, really, she could—if everyone followed her law.
She tried not to focus on her own flights of fantasy, (though, they were not flights of fantasy; soon they would be very real goals for her to fulfill), and instead, attempted to focus on Calliope’s words. Her eyebrows drew down, confusion plain on her face, feeling her heart clench in her chest. If Cassandra had spoken to Calliope, well, that wouldn’t bode well for Urania at all.
Her powers pressed harder against Calliope’s as she drew back slightly, smoothing her face out again, though there was still the slightest pucker to her brow.
“Who were you helping, Calliope?” she asked, her voice no longer warm, though she tried to keep it from being harsh and demanding.
CALLIE
Her magic spread around her like a shield, basically encasing her in it.
Don’t let her influence the story, something whispered. This is your story, your story, take it back, take it back.
“A boy with pale hair and pale skin and blue eyes, with blue fire,” she said, holding her head up high, looking Urania straight in the eye. “He was my first dream. My first hero--I found him here. It’s Fate. I had to be there by the river and he was there, just like I knew he would be.”
Something is going to happen, something is going to happen…
She said it confidently, even though her heart was hammering in her chest, even though she knew that there were rules and that Urania did not look happy at all. But this was something she had to do--it was her destiny, her mission.
URANIA:
Now, now she was annoyed. Calliope’s magic pushed back at her and it pissed Urania off. Usually, Urania had a brilliant amount of control over her powers. Urania prior had marveled and complimented her, giving her the praise that Urania had never received in her life from anyone. Even when Urania had eventually killed her, Urania prior had died whispering sentimental praise, “you could’ve been so much more.”
Well, Urania was going to be so much more. Soon.
It was so close she could taste it, the key to opening the Underworld. It sat right in front of her, in the form of a name. Calliope knew who the Ambassador was.
Urania’s magic turned sharp as a knife, trying to slice through Calliope’s natural defenses.
“What is his name?” she asked, her voice harsh.
She leaned forwards again and let her nostrils flare a little. “You didn’t tell him what we are, did you? You know that is against the rules.”
CALLIE:
“I told him I was a helper,” she said, lying through her teeth. Callie didn’t like to lie; she hated it. But she knew she had to. Because if Urania got mad at her, if Urania punished her for breaking the rules and made her wear one of the chained necklaces that limited her powers, well, she couldn’t help with anything. And there was something big around the bend.
“Someone else guessed it; I didn’t say anything,” she said, drawing her shoulders up. That someone else was Howl, who had known almost right away.
Her magic protected her enough from that; she did not have to tell Urania that she had told Hades what she was. But something else stirred in her.
She had to tell Urania his name. It was a mix of Urania’s magic and her own telling her--Something is going to happen, this needs to happen, this needs to happen.
“Hades,” she said. “Like the god of the Underworld.”
URANIA:
Urania knew that Calliope was lying. She’d known the girl for years and years and especially through her most formative ones. She knew what Calliope looked like when she lied. Her eyes got so sad, because she was such a soft thing. This always worked in Urania’s favour. She liked it about the girl. It made her so easy to manipulate, when it came right down to it. And yes, usually she would press, usually she would be furious.
But, right now, like always, that soft heart was working in her favour.
While her heart thrummed excitedly, she softened her features outwardly, reaching out to squeeze both of Calliope’s hands in hers, wiping her magic away as if it had never been there in the first place. She’d gotten the information that she’d needed.
She smiled gently and squeezed at Calliope’s hands. Dear, sweet Calliope.
“That is rather fitting, isn’t it? I simply wanted to know because a Magick like an Ambassador is important in our line of work. We’re always sent to guide them. That may be what drew us here in fact.” It was certainly what drew Urania. “I’m not mad at you, sweetheart, don’t worry. I think you’re doing a good thing, helping him.”
