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The God Who Carries Away

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Hades did not ask for the Underworld.It was given to him, forced onto him when they drew their lots. Zeus, who had already declared himself king, drew the sky and Hades had to wonder if he had rigged it so he would gain that part of the universe no matter what. Poseidon drew the oceans. That left the Underworld, the piece of the world that no one wanted, that no one would offer to rule.(“You will be king of so many.” What is the point of being king when your subjects are shades, ghosts that wander a dead land with only hints of who they used to be? What is the point of being king, no matter how many subjects, when your visitors will be rare and far in between and you will never be allowed to leave, never be allowed to join the other gods on Olympus?)The Underworld is dead. It reminds Hades of Kronos’ stomach, of the years spent in darkness wondering if one day he may see the light. He cannot escape. He can never escape.(He tells Hestia this once and she looks at him with sorrow in her eyes, promises him that he’ll be okay and it’s not the same, it isn’t. She has Hermes deliver him presents for months after the fact, as if a few trinkets will rid him of the memories.)He didn’t ask for the Underworld.He wasn’t entirely alone there. The Underworld grew more and more crowded by the day. There was Nyx and Thanatos and Hypnos, but rarely did they speak to him and they could leave. He couldn’t.(“You cannot abandon your realm.” They could.)The other gods met and talked and celebrated on Olympus. They fought among each other and with the mortals. One time their fighting grew so violent Hades could feel the cavern ceiling above him shake, threatening to collapse under their weight. He was separate, but he had to wonder if anything would be different if he wasn’t the God of the Underworld.(“Brother, you’re so quiet. Why do you never join us?”)He doubts anything would have changed. Hermes had once said he looked perfect for the role of King of the Underworld, that he had the dark hair and pale skin and obsidian eyes that just screamed death. Hades didn’t think his appearance would be much different if he’d spent his time on Olympus instead of in death’s shadow. Hades didn’t think the other gods wouldn’t shy from the deathly god in their presence.Besides, he’d never enjoy the same pastimes as they did.(“Why has my realm filled so quickly? Why are the mortals flooding in?”
“The Achaean army has taken Troy.”
They destroyed a kingdom because of a petty contest, because of a petty argument over who was more beautiful and of course every god had to have a hand in the war. Hades didn’t love mortals, but he understood better than any Olympian the true horror of death.)He can feel the weight of the Underworld on his shoulders even after so many years. He wonders if Poseidon or Zeus ever feel the same.(Doubtful. The ocean is freedom personified and Zeus is anything but held down.)The Underworld is cold and dark and sometimes it feels like it is draining his own life force from him, ripping the ichor from his veins and leaving him little more than a shadow, no matter how impossible it is for him to die.Hades didn’t want the Underworld. But he’d never been given a choice.

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