Ever with Hades
Upon reaching the third floor of the library, she found herself once again fascinated with the play of light and colors coming from the hallways’ stained glass windows, which ran almost from the ceiling to the floor.
The stained glass artworks depicted equally magical scenes, such as of winged creatures resting on the clouds, a castle so big that it spanned the horizon, and sunlight was the color of silver.
Almost like the moon, she thought, but with rays.
At the very end of the hallway, the last door on the left slowly and inexplicably swung open with an eerily creaking sound.
Ever froze.
“Hello?” She covered her mouth as soon as the word slipped out, knowing it had been stupid. You do not say hello to a possible intruder, Ever Carlisle. Only actors playing foolish characters do that!
She looked about her wildly, trying to look for a possible weapon, but she found nothing at all.
Ever slowly backed away, the thick, old carpet underneath her absorbing the sound of her footsteps. She would call the police and report—-
Oh!
The room at the end was suddenly ablaze with light, so dazzlingly it was as if the brightness of it was unearthly.
This didn’t seem to be the work of an intruder.
But if this was, could it be a ghost? She had never heard of a haunting this type, and—-
Oh!
This time, music started to play from the room, and she recognized it almost instantly.
Edvard Grieg’s Morning Mood.
Why would a ghost or an intruder play something like that?
It didn’t make any sense.
At all!
Her heart skipped a beat, and this time the shiver that ran through her body wasn’t of fear but of...excitement.
An adventure, she couldn’t help thinking even though she knew someone sensible should be running away and screaming for her bloody life.
She took a step forward, and still the music played.
A start of an adventure—-
Of something – anything – that could change her life, even if for a moment.
She walked more quickly, and now that she was nearer, she could actually hear the sound of laughter and murmurs—-
Not one, not two, but it sounded like there was a ball taking place inside the room—-
Which was absurd, Ever couldn’t help thinking. She pinched her cheeks just to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. She even slapped herself, never mind that her left cheek was still stinging from her aunt’s blow.
But still, the music remained, and this time she even heard the sound of tinkling glasses, of a cork popping and champagne whizzing out before there came the sound of toasting and innumerable people cheering.
Happy birthday, Hades!
Her eyes flew wide open.
No, she couldn’t have heard that.
She couldn’t possibly have heard that.
Thank you.
The voice was deep and husky, strong and male – exactly the kind of voice she would have imagined someone like the Prince of Darkness, the Lord of the Underworld, would possess.
Her mind reeled at the sheer impossibility of it.
And yet—-
Her breath caught.
What if it was real?
What if this was really happening?
What if she could leave for the Underworld?
Her breath caught.
And the next thing she knew, she was running, her heart beating so hard she could barely hear the way her mind had started whispering in desperate hope.
Please, please, please—-
But as soon as she stumbled inside the room, everything went dark and silent.
Ever fell to her knees in a gasp.
Her fingers dug into her palms.
Please, please, please—-
Surely, it would come back.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
Please, please, please come back.
She wished it so hard she could’ve sworn she heard the sound of fingers running over the keys of a flute, could’ve sworn she saw flashes of dancing couples, could’ve sworn she felt—-
Dark beautiful eyes staring at her like she was his dream come to life.
Oh!
Her eyes flew open.
But everything was still the same.
Shelves everywhere she looked, filled with old books that didn’t seem to have been opened for decades, and behind them were windows that had been boarded up. Even the carpeted floor under her was buried underneath a thick layer of dust, so much so that its intricately woven drawings were barely visible.
The silence that Ever had once loved was now just as oppressive as the noise of her every day life, and she whispered, “No.”
She shook her head.
“No!”
The cry was torn out of her, and she began to sob. She almost wished she was insane, but she knew she wasn’t. Because if she was, then she would continue to think that what she had thought she seen, what she had thought she heard, was real. That the magical scene she had imagined still existed, somewhere in this very room—-
Make me understand, God, please make me understand.
She lifted her gaze up, wishing she could see past the ceiling, the roof, past the skies that hid the one who had given her this type of life.
I’m not blaming you, God, but I just want to understand why.