If I Had Words

Back to chapter menu     
Chapter 73      Chapter 75

She didn’t know how long she descended, but at last the path opened into a vast landscape. 

Psyche stood, taking it all in. 

The sky gave off a soft grey light illuminating hills and valleys, rivers and barren trees. 

There was no breeze. 

Everything seemed suspended in nothingness, having given its last breath.

This was the Underworld. 

Psyche reminded herself to breathe.

She could see well enough now that she didn’t need to hold the stone. She placed it back into her sack.

But which way to go? 

The landscape provided no clear path. Everywhere looked somewhat the same. She decided to continue walking straight ahead. It seemed as good of a direction as any. She hoped that somewhere along the way she would find some indication of where she could request an audience with the Queen. 

As she got further and further into the Underworld, she began hearing faint wailing. It seemed to float, directionless, on the breezeless air. She could tell they originated somewhere in the distance, but where exactly, she couldn’t tell. 

It gave her an uneasy feeling. 

This was certainly not a pleasant place. Not for everyone.

Psyche walked, still searching for some sense of direction. She noticed a small line of water. It wasn’t flowing anywhere. It seemed to simply rest on top of the soil. Curious, she followed it. The trail of water gradually grew and widened into a stream and then into a river. 

Perhaps this river could guide her. 

She walked along the river for a while, noticing how odd it was. No ripples. Nothing disturbed its surface. It was a perfect mirror, flawlessly reflecting the grey light of the sky.  

It was quite beautiful.

The river then split back into several riverlets. One stood blocking her path. 

She wondered if it would be worth crossing it so she could continue following the river. 

The stream didn’t look too wide. 

She stepped close to the water. There was no bank, no erosion of the soil. 

The water just rested, undisturbed, on the land. 

It was so strange. 

Psyche cautiously tested the water with her foot. 

The instant the water hit her skin, the deepest and most harrowing sorrow took hold of her. 

Overwhelmed by the magnitude, Psyche let out a heart-wrenching wail and stumbled back. 

Images of agonizing heartache grasped and groped at her mind. 

She could see a mother, cradling her recently stillborn child. Psyche could feel his mother’s pain. The agony of never knowing the color of his eyes, never watching him grow up. Weeping, the mother gently kissed her baby’s head. 

A first and last kiss.

Psyche bent over, cradling the air in utter despair.

“Please, change his fate,” she pleaded. “Let him live.”

There was no answer.

The image was replaced with a man hunched over a bedridden friend. 

Just moments ago they had been joking, hoping — hoping he would get well. They had worked side by side for years, until his friend unexpectedly became sick. No one seemed to know what was wrong. The man had spent hours cheering his friend, risking a reduction in the harvest in the hopes of making him well again. Nothing helped. Nothing worked. His friend died anyway. How could the Fates have taken him so early? It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair.

“Please! Don’t leave me alone!!” Psyche cried, falling to her knees and howling. 

Her cries floated, repeating faintly through the air. 

A new image appeared in her mind. 

A young woman was draped over the body of another woman. People were trying to pull her away, but she held fast. 

“Take me! Take me instead!!” Psyche screamed. “Please, bring her back! Please!!” 

The people finally pried open the woman’s hands and dragged her away.

“Please,” Psyche whispered. “I didn’t mean to.”

Psyche took in a sharp breath as another image appeared. 

Image after image, Psyche wailed and screamed as tragedy flashed and ripped through her. 

The anguish was unbearable. 

The water from the river began to dry, and with it, the images slowed and faded. 

Psyche lay crying, still shuddering as her body recovered from the shock of what she had just endured. 

Despair lingered as she tried to let go of the torrent of images. 

“Please,” she begged quietly. “Please, I can’t bear it.”

She felt a warm tingle on her head. 

It wasn’t a touch exactly, but a sense of a touch. Psyche began to relax and only a few tears remained to dry on her cheeks.

Everything will be alright, she thought.

Psyche took a deeper breath. 

Peace.

“Princess Psyche,” a voice said beside her. “Are you alright?” 

Psyche opened her eyes and looked up. 

Beside her knelt a beautiful spirit. She glowed brighter than the grey light around them. She looked lovely, hair floating without breeze.  

“I see you’ve stepped into the water. I’m sorry. It must have been quite terrible,” the spirit said. 

“What is it?” Psyche said, her eyes filling with tears again as some of the images returned. 

“This is the River of Lamentation. It holds all of the tears and sorrows of the world,” the spirit said. 

Psyche looked at the river, the vastness and magnitude of such a thing horrified her. 

So much suffering. So much sorrow. 

“Where did you come from? And why are you here?” the spirit asked.

Psyche took a breath and looked at the spirit. 

“I must find the Queen of the Underworld,” Psyche said. “I have a request from the Goddess Aphrodite.”

“Oh! I can help you,” the spirit said cheerfully. “It would be my honor, Princess.”

Psyche stood and the spirit rose with her without effort.

“Thank you,” Psyche said. “I had been following the river, hoping for some direction, but I have no idea where I’m going.”

“Don’t worry, Princess,” the spirit said. “I do.” 

Psyche gave a sigh of relief. She was so grateful for this beautiful spirit.

Her countenance seemed familiar somehow.

“Do I know you?” Psyche asked, taking a closer look at the spirit.

“Why, yes. You do,” the spirit said smiling. “Do you remember me?”

Psyche looked at the glowing spirit. Her eyes were soft, and she had a kind smile. She looked to be at her prime, perhaps in her mid 20’s. 

The face was familiar, but Psyche couldn’t quite place it. 

The spirit could tell Psyche was having trouble. 

“I do look a bit older than when you last saw me. I’ve grown a lot since coming here,” she said. 

“Daphne??” Psyche breathed softly. 

“Princess,” Daphne said, smiling.

Psyche reached for an embrace, but passed right through her. 

Psyche tried to hide her disappointment as she turned and faced her again.

Daphne gave a small smile. 

“Not yet,” she said. “It’s not your time. But, one day.” 

Psyche tried to think of something kind to say, but she struggled against the sudden sense of loss; the loss of watching Daphne grow, the loss of everything that could have been. 

Daphne sensed her sorrow.

“Don’t feel sorry for me, Princess,” Daphne said. “There is so much more to this place. It’s not all bad.”

Psyche tried to imagine Daphne happy, but the despair she’d just felt from the River was too heavy. 

“What you see before you is just one part of the Underworld. There is so much more. As vast as this place is with emptiness and sorrow, there is an equal part of joy and rest, reunion and reconciliation,” Daphne said, brightening her glow at the thought. 

Then she chuckled.

“I remember tales as a child of the horrors which lurk in the dark of the Underworld,” Daphne said. “But really, it’s the torment of our own monsters.”

She paused.

“Well, there are some real monsters too, but they are set to guard the forbidden areas. I’m not as familiar with those. And anyway, my work is here on the Plains.” 

“You work here?” Psyche said.

“Yes,” Daphne smiled. “You can imagine not all of the spirits who come here are ready to embrace death. Some of them arrive struggling with various things which hold them back from entering the Elysian Fields, where they can find their eternal rest. My work is to sit with some of these spirits. Well, once they are ready to talk. I help them through the process of acceptance,” Daphne said.

“That’s so wonderful, Daphne. I imagine you do so much good here,” Psyche said. 

“I love the work,” Daphne sighed. “It is the most rewarding sight to see spirits brighten and find joy.”

Psyche smiled. 

“How is everyone back home?” Daphne asked, changing the subject and starting to move towards their destination. “I know I’ll see them all one day, but it would be a comfort knowing they’re alright.”

“Your mother is doing well,” Psyche said, following Daphne, fighting a bit to keep up. “She is gentle and kind and has managed your death better somehow than when your grandmother passed away. I think she’s inspired by you. She tries to help others and she’s especially good at comforting those who are grieving loved ones.

“Your father is well. He is a soft kind of sad. He never hesitates to help and is doing his best to enjoy life without you. 

“Your siblings are grown and most are married.”

“And the children from my class?” Daphne said. ”Dion, Cyril… Phoebe?”

Psyche smiled. 

“They’re all grown now, of course, and well-settled. Dion joined my father’s army and is a captain, I think. Cyril helps Damian as a hired laborer and has started a family.”

“And Phoebe?” Daphne prompted eagerly.

“Phoebe is wonderful. She leads the others through her confidence and example. She’s changed from the shy and uncertain girl she used to be,” Psyche said. “She’s realized her dream of becoming a teacher and does a wonderful job. She’s extra careful and cautious, but always with a kind word.”

Daphne smiled and nodded.

“It’s nice to know they’re all doing well,” Daphne said. “I often think about the joy of seeing them again.”

Psyche couldn’t help feeling sad for Daphne, sent too early to the Underworld.

“Don’t worry, Psyche,” Daphne said, placing a hand on her arm. Psyche felt the warm tingle again. “I don’t mind waiting. There’s time for everything.”

Everything will be alright, Psyche thought again. 

Psyche continued following Daphne as she led the way through the vastness of the Underworld. She was grateful to have a guide who knew the way and what to avoid. 

As they walked, Psyche saw various spirits. Some wandering, some producing the wailing sound she’d heard before. 

Psyche wondered if her own cries were still floating around somewhere. 

They climbed a crest and stood looking over a wide vista. In the center was a majestic palace, dark and looming. 

Wails were heard stronger here. They repeated and overlapped one another. 

“You mustn’t mind the wailing,” Daphne said. “It scared me at first, but now I understand. I try to think of it as letting a friend sit and have a good cry.” 

Psyche tried to imagine patting the shoulder of a friend letting out such eerie sobs.

The two continued together down the slope. 

As they approached the palace, Psyche started to get nervous. Would the Queen be as harsh and commanding as Aphrodite had been? 

“You’ll love the Queen,” Daphne said, sensing Psyche’s anxiety. “She is kind and caring and should be easy to talk to.”

“Do you see her often?” Psyche asked. 

“When the Queen is in the Underworld, she comes out and joins the work of helping souls,” Daphne said. “She loves the work as much as we do and encourages us with her example.”

“She sounds wonderful,” Psyche said. 

“She is,” Daphne said, smiling.

Daphne paused for a moment.

“If I may ask,” Daphne said. “What does the Goddess Aphrodite need from the Queen?”

“Aphrodite has given me the task of obtaining some of the Queen’s beauty,” Psyche said. 

“Oh?” Daphne said. “How is it that you are performing a task for the Goddess? Have you become one of Her priestesses?”

“I wonder if that would have been a better fate,” Psyche said dryly. “Not long after your death, the Goddess Aphrodite punished me for the shrine and for all of the people I allowed to worship me. I had to be left on the top of a hill to be picked up and taken to a creature who would be my husband. This was to warn others of the punishment that awaited those who sought to be as a goddess. 

“Only, it was Eros, the God of Desire, who turned out to be my husband. It has been quite a journey trying to understand my place — whether in the world of the gods where my husband resides — or whether my place is among my fellow mortals.

“This is my final task left to prove that I am worthy of my husband.”

Daphne brightened, her glow extending the radiance of light around them.

“Of course you belong among the gods,” Daphne said. 

Psyche was surprised by Daphne’s confidence. 

They reached the imposing set of steps which led up to the main door.  

Daphne turned to Psyche. 

“You will complete this task,” Daphne said, confidently. “I know you will. Don’t be afraid. The Queen is very understanding and full of wisdom. She will help you.”

“Thank you, Daphne,” Psyche said. “I wish I could have given you the same comfort before you died.”

 A rush of sorrow filled her again.

“No, it’s alright. I had my grandmother to greet me when I first entered,” Daphne said. “She sat with me and she helped me understand.” 

“Is your grandmother still here, working with other souls?” Psyche asked.

“No. She has entered her eternal rest,” Daphne said. “She will likely come to the Plains again when she senses my mother. There is a way you feel the presence of a loved one.

“That’s how I found you.” 

“Me?” Psyche said.

“Princess, you’re the reason I’m out here,” Daphne said. “I used to watch you work among the people, helping them through their struggles. I wanted so much to be like you.”

“You have surpassed me,” Psyche said, feeling embarrassed.

Daphne smiled. 

“No, you belong with the gods. Your love and care is pure. You can’t see it, but so many others can,” Daphne said. “I still have a ways to go before I’m like you, Princess. I’m glad for it. We all need inspiration. 

“You are mine.”

“I am so thankful, Daphne,” Psyche said. “Thank you for finding me. Thank you for helping me.”

Daphne gave Psyche a hug. Psyche felt the warm tingle on her cheek. 

“You’ll be alright,” Daphne reassured her again. “It looks imposing, but it is a place of comfort and rest. Don’t be afraid.

“We shall see each other again.”

With that Daphne left Psyche at the foot of the palace steps. 

Psyche watched Daphne return to her work. She imagined it was hard and tiring. 

It felt harder letting Daphne go this time and Psyche felt a deep sense of loss. Knowing she would see her again didn’t stop fresh tears from rolling down her cheeks. 

Psyche stood in her grief for a moment. 

Death was difficult, even in the Underworld. 

Psyche let out a little sigh.

Then she turned and faced the steps. 

Time to talk to the Queen.

Back to chapter menu     
Chapter 73      Chapter 75