INTRODUCTION
The Underworld in Roman
and
Greek Mythology was
a place not only where
evil souls dwelt but also those of the heroes. In the
following passages you will learn of the different sections and
different characters of the Underworld. The stories will tell how
Hades came into existence and of his rise and dealings as King of
the Underworld. The following are a compilation of Hades'
legends told in his own words. They were written by Hades' scribe
Aristeas, a legendary miracle worker and poet in the seventh century
B.C.
The following stories tell of Aristeas'
time in Hades' kingdom as he reads from the book of the King of the
Underworld. The tales
include "Hades and the Titans," detailing Hades' rise
to power, "Hades and the Rape of Persephone," describing how Hades
came unto the earth and stole Persephone from her family, "Hades and
the Hero Orpheus," that tells of the connection of love between two
people who are trapped in the Underworld and "Hades' Wrath: Pirithous
and Theseus," about two men who tried to rescue Persephone from hell
but were deceived by Hades and trapped there until they were saved by
the famous hero, Hercules!
My name is Aristeas;
I once soared over the earth majestically as a raven for the great God
Apollo, and now I sit trapped, in anguish. This is my
story. Four
years and four nights on my travels I
had been weary on the road and I saw smoke rising just beyond a set of
bushes. I made my way to the fire and to an
old prophet who sat just beyond, curled in animal skins. "I'm
sorry to
disturb you but I have been on a journey for many days without
food..." The man said nothing and pointed to his satchel.
Inside the
satchel were plentiful fruits, dried roots, wine, and even fresh fish,
not long ago cooked. I partook of all and after a while the wine had my
spirits soaring. He told of a prophecy. He called me by
name and told
me of all the happenings in my life, and I was astonished. His
words
stay with me to this day: "The road has been long, your journey
glorious as the Gods, but you will soon rest, five times you will see
death."
I
am shackled now in Hades' dungeon, not Tartarus, the dwelling of lost
and evil souls, and not in the Elysian Fields, the dwelling of Kronos
who watches over the heroes who perished in battle. No, I am
prisoner
now locked in the deepest well in all of Hades' realm. I do not
eat, I
do not drink and I do not sleep, for I cannot lay my head on the walls
of this abyss; the arms of the wretched will grab me and pull me limb
from limb. I am let out once a thousand deaths to record for the
King
of the Underworld, Hades, the deaths of those who have passed on.
Hades' mind is spread thin. It has been thousands of years since
he,
Poseidon, and Zeus overthrew the Titans to take control of the
world.
From his scroll in which I record the deaths and the stories of Hades,
I have found that he was once a very regal and understanding God.
But
all the years of solace, locked away with his grand wealth and locked
away from humanity, have eaten at him; he has become vengeful.
The
three gods chose between three lots, dividing the sky, the earth, and
the underworld among them. Hades took the third lot chosen after the
sacking of Kronos
and the Titans - the lot of hell, which was a life of servitude rather
than a life of freedom. He is burdened day after day always with
the
management of the Underworld, never able to enjoy the fruits of
the earth. He will summon me soon and I will be given the scroll
on
which to write. As I write what he so chooses, the words on the
scroll
will burn a red fire. They will brand the book and brand Hades'
mind.
His screams will echo through the halls of the damned and their souls
will shriek in fear.
As I sit here waiting for his summoning, I
think back to the prophet's words. "I will die five times."
I have
died four and I will tell those tales in time; now my only hope is that
his
prophecy will be fulfilled and I will die once more. I pray that
I
will perish out of this realm and into nothingness or be sent to rest
among the gods, perhaps in Paradise if that magical place truly
exists. When I first arrived in this realm I was picked by Hades
from
the Fields of Asphodel where my soul wandered aimlessly among the
ghosts of small heroes and cowards alike. It was like my mind was
shut
from thought. I was sent there by the river Acheron, that river
of
sorrow, which divides the living world from the dead. Charon, the
ferryman of Hades, took me across for an obolus,
the coin that pays the fare for passage across the river, though where
I received a coin I do not know. After floating in the Fields of
Asphodel, I was taken to a trivia, three roads that intersect, sacred
to
Hecate, Queen of the Ghosts, the triple-headed goddess, with the head
of a dog, and a serpent, and a horse. There the three judges of
the Underworld,
Minos,
Rhadamanthus and Aeacus, stood in judgment of my soul. They would
decide if I would be sent to Tartarus,
to the Elysian Fields or back to the Fields of Asphodel, where souls
who are neither good nor evil wander. At the last moment I heard
Hades' great cry of laughter. "Ha ha ha, you are Aristeas,
poet, adventurer, magician and miracle worker. I have heard many
exploits of your great deeds. I have heard you have been
travelling
with Apollo as his raven, but yet you lie here, so lowly, in
anticipation of my judgment." He picked me from Asphodel and kept
me
from his judges so that we could trade stories and I could forever
count the
numbers of the dead. My life kept in captivity is like a bedtime
story
for him.
He toys with my mind as a child would enjoy tormenting a
caterpillar.
So here I sit in Hades' dungeon, waiting for his beckoning, plotting my
escape.
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