Falling
(Dying)

Falling
(Dying)

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~oOo0oOo0oOo~

Jongin blinked awake to the sound of a familiar twinkling laugh. Despite having slept for nearly two days, he didn't feel the slightest bit rested. Fatigue seemed to cling to his being, weighing his bones down. Stifling a yawn, he slipped out of bed, barely noticing the chill of the stone floor. His room was dark save the natural light of the moon and stars, but the hallway leading into the palace's main chamber was glowing a warm reddish-gold. The laughter pealed once again, saccharine and sharp. 

He shuffled out into the hallway, hand trailing limply through his disheveled hair as the sounds increased. Once he was able to see clearly into the hall, he stopped, still several feet away from the light.

Luhan was holding another one of his little parties, it seemed. Little balls of light—fairies, no doubt—flit through the hair, illuminating the marble walls so that they glimmered brilliantly. Little tables of silver and gold were placed around the circular floor, teeming with delicacies. There were a throng of godlings and nymphs filling the air with their chatter, and most magnificent of all was the god who danced here and there, resplendent in iridescent robes of mother-of-pearl.

Somehow, Luhan sensed his presence, calling out, “Ah, Jongin! Come join us, won't you?”

Though his friend recoiled, the god swept forward and clasped a pretty but powerful hand around his wrist, dragging him out into the circle of light.

“I'm hardly dressed for a celebration,” Jongin protested, tugging fruitlessly as Luhan's  grip was stronger than steal. “Really, I don't want to intrude--”

“Don't be silly,” Luhan laughed as they came to a stop. The blonde ran his hand through his friend's unruly hair, smoothing it into a more acceptable arrangement before straightening out the rumples in Jongin's robe. He tutted at the dark shadows under his friend's eyes—there was nothing he could do about them. 

“You are going to enjoy yourself,” Luhan said, ignoring the way Jongin rolled his eyes. “You've done nothing but mope since you came here to stay with me, and I'm getting so tired of seeing nothing but your sad face every time see you. So go.” 

Though the smile on Luhan's face was sweet and gentle, it also brokered no argument, and with a sigh Jongin accepted the wineglass one of the serving nymphs offered them.

He tried to enjoy himself, he really did. But the empty chatter and frivolous gestures were hardly engaging, and he found himself wandering in circles around the room. He exchanged pleasantries, but never stayed with one group for long. Thank Zeus the room was large.

After an hour or two he slipped from the party into an empty antechamber, satisfied that Luhan was adequately distracted by a family of Nereids. Sighing, he sunk behind the sofa, hidden away from sight. He settled his throbbing head onto his kneecaps, drawing his legs close to his chest.

Suddenly he heard movement at the entrance, and he jolted into alertness. Peering carefully over the top of the sofa, he saw two silhouettes; one, of a woman, the other of Luhan.

“My dearest Lady Demeter, whatever is so urgent that it requires my immediate attention?” he heard Luhan exclaim. The two silhouettes turned to face each other, their forms framed by the light that came through the doorway.

“It's about the child,” the goddess of harvest said softly. “I know what you set for his third task. You want him to journey into my wretched son-in-law's domain and return alive?”

“I'm not particularly picky about what state he returns in, or if he should return at all.” Luhan's voice had lost all its candor.

The goddess made a pitiful noise. “My Lord Luhan, I had originally resolved to stay out of your affairs, but don't you feel this is too cruel a punishment? He is only a boy! I understand your ire, but perhaps--”

“There's no need for you to try to change my mind.” The words cracked through the air like a whip, and Demeter wheeled back as if she had been physically hit. “I see he's won you over, just as he has won over anyone else. But no matter. I will not lose.”

With that he stormed out of the room, leaving a ringing silence in his wake. Jongin watched as the goddess breathed in and out slowly, shaking her head. Then suddenly she turned, facing the back of the room, facing the sofa behind which Jongin was perched.

“Jongin?” The goddess called. Without waiting for a reply she said, “I am not feeling too well. Will you visit my dear son for me?”

The request made no sense, but the determined look in her green eyes were enough to have the young god agreeing quickly.

~oOo0oO0oOo~

To enter the land of the dead, surely one must become one of its subjects.

Kyungsoo was more than certain that that was why Luhan had given him this last task. The god had finally tired of humiliating him, and wanted to finish the job.

Soon after the task had been set, he had located a stone tower only a day's journey away. It was an ancient structure, one he assumed was used by astronomers to track the movements of the sky. It was nothing more than a hollow cylinder built of stone with a staircase running across its inner walls which led to the top of the tower, a flat floor perfect for stargazing. It was high enough to do considerable damage to an immortal should he or she fall to the ground from the top, and certainly high enough to end the life of a mere mortal.

Now, as he stood at the top of the structure with his toes barely grazing the edge, he remembered the last time he had been so close to falling into nothingness. The day one Apuleius' peak seemed like one that had happened an eternity ago, but the feelings he felt now—fear, helplessness, frustration, sadness—were the same as the ones he had felt then, and seemed fresher and stronger than before.

This time, however, there would be no Zephyrus to whisk him into his husband's palace; there would only be himself.

Luhan's box clenched tightly in his hand, he breathed deeply, raising his foot to take the first step--

“Ahh, you wretched child. You poor, poor soul. You mustn't jump just yet.”

Carefully, he set his foot back onto stable ground. “My lord Pan, what brings you here?” Beneath him, so far away, the gray rocks that covered the ground lay. They would wait, they would still be here. Slowly he turned.

The god stood at the center of the stone floor, resting his form heavily on his staff. He shook his horned head, looking forlornly at the little prince. “You need not enter the Underworld in such a way, my dear child.”

“And how should I gain entrance, my lord?”

Pan slowly moved forward, his cloven feet clacking against stone, and took the little prince’s hand. Silently, he lead him back to the staircase from whence he came, nodding down the spiraling steps.

Kyungsoo gasped. Down below, where the steps had once met earthen ground, was now a gaping chasm of darkness into which the stairway descended.

~oOo0oOo0oOo~

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~oOo0oOo0oOo~

The Underworld was every bit as beautiful as it was terrible, Jongin had always thought as he came to a stop before the magnificent throne of the Lord of the Underworld. The Underworld was a far cry from the Upperworld; everything was chilly, and dark, and deathly quiet, and its Lord seemed to be the embodiment of these characteristics. It felt like warmth in this dreary place was nonexistent, as what light there was radiated iciness as well. The two skeletal guards that had escorted him in bowed to their master, their bones rattling, before disappearing into one of the many hallways that spanned the walls. His face impassive, Yifan leaned forward on his throne of ebony stone and spoke, his soft but deep voice echoing along the empty caverns of his throne room.

“My dearest mother-in-law sent you here to visit my husband?”

Jongin nodded silently.

“But she did not tell you why?”

Another nod.

His grey eyes disbelieving, Yifan reclined on his throne, his dark robes rippling around his form. But before he could open his mouth to speak, the sound of bare feet pitter-pattering across marble caused both him and his visitor to turn and see the arrival of the newest member of their party.

Jongin could only smile at the way Yifan’s eyes softened at the sight of his husband. It was easy to believe the elder god callous and untouchable, given his dark domain and intimidating stature, so easy to forget that he was just as susceptible to the power of love as any other being.

Zitao pranced across the hall, his mere presence seeming to bring a glow of warmth to the cavernous room. With a flying leap the young god of spring launched himself onto the smaller throne that rested beside his husband, hopping onto the seat and up onto the arms of his husband’s throne. With a cheeky grin, Zitao slipped onto his husband’s lap, placing a hand on the other god’s chiseled face.

They truly were a picture. Stone-cold Yifan, with his robes dark as night and his skin a chalky white, hair the color of the purest gold, and vibrant Zitao, with his flowers and honey skin and brilliant smile and hair the color of coal, seemed entities so many worlds apart it was equally heart-warming and shocking to see how the two seemed to complete each other.

“What brings you here, my friend?” Zitao sang out as his husband wound an arm around his waist, tucking his face into the boy’s hair.

“Your mother sent me,” Jongin said, and Zitao nodded in understanding. Reaching up, he cupped his hands around Yifan’s ear and whispered quickly but quietly. Jongin couldn’t help but notice the way the elder god seemed to wrap himself around Zitao, the way his hand rested easily on the boy’s hip, thumb languidly. The lord of the underworld listened with rapt attention, nodding once the god of spring finished. Quietly, he stood up, placing Zitao back on the ground, pressing a quick kiss to his husband’s forehead before disappearing in a few whisps of black smoke.

Jongin watched Yifan’s departure with wide eyes, blinking, before turning his attention back to Zitao, who was heading down towards him.

“I didn’t remember Yifan being…quite so affectionate the last time I came to visit,” the god of love noticed and Zitao took his hand and led him down another hallway.

“It’s not that he’s more affectionate,” the god of spring said, tucking a strand of wayward hair behind his ear, “But that he is simply being more open about it.” Sensing the question on Jongin’s tongue, Zitao added, “You know he has a façade to keep, if he wants to stay respected and feared by the rest of the gods. But he does not bother hiding what he feels for me from you because you, better than anyone else, would already know.”

And with a sly grin on his face, he leaned closer to whisper, “And understand, as well.” Then, raising his voice back to its usually lively volume, Zitao declared, “Mother wanted you to visit because there is someone very special she wants you to meet—he should be arriving soon. In the meantime, why don’t you stay with us, Jongin?”

Knowing he really had no choice (though he really didn’t mind—in fact, he was happy to see his old friend), Jongin meekly agreed much to Zitao’s delight and enthusiasm.

~oOo0oOo0oOo~

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It felt like he had been walking forever, like this staircase down which he had stepped had no end. As he forged deeper into the darkness, thoughts of the Lord Pan’s gifts and advice spiraled through his head, as constant as the sounds of his footsteps.

Two coins for the ferryman, one for entrance, one for exit.

The coins in his palm still felt cold despite the way his flesh fumed with exertion, so small, so mundane, how were they to help him gain entrance and safe passage?

Keep your silence, no matter who or what you see, no matter what they plead and beg of you.

What ghastly beings would he see, what would they want from him? Would they be ghosts from his pasts, his fears of his future, gruesome horrors that haunted the wretched and damned?

And sweet cakes to feed Cerberus, the great beast that guards the gates of the Underworld.

The cakes lay in a small woolen pouch, tight in his other fist, so small, so mundane, how were they to save him from death between a monster’s teeth?

Good luck, dear child.

Luck. Kyungsoo chuckled wryly at the thought.

What luck, indeed.

~oOo0oOo0oOo~

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It felt like he had been walking forever, but it seemed this staircase down which he had stepped had finally reached its end. At long last his feet stepped from cold stone to equally cold , damp earth, and it was with a soft sigh that Kyungsoo dropped into the ground, trying not to think of the chill on his skin and the deep ache in his bones. Before his eyes he could see some distance before him a mighty river thrashed, stormy grey water crashing and breaking amongst the bank. There was no ferryman in sight, and it was with a heavy heart that the young prince got up and stumbled as close as he could to the treacherous waters without being caught in the river’s grasp.

Suddenly the waters stilled, and Kyungsoo gaped in amazement at how wide the river spanned. He could barely see the black line of the other bank, but another shape was slowly coming into focus. Squinting, he saw a boat, on which a deplorably thin figure stood.

Blinking again, Kyungsoo nearly reeled back in shock when he saw that the boat was suddenly washing up onto the shore. The ferryman, a ghoulish, faceless imitation of a skeletal human body clad in dreary robes of black, beckoned to him. Suppressing a shudder, Kyungsoo took one coin and carefully placed it onto the man’s waiting palm, and stumbled onto the boat. With bated breath he watched the ferryman’s eyeless figure study the coin, and exhaled in relief when the coin disappeared into the ferryman’s rotting pouch. Suddenly, without any warning, the boat was lurching back into the river, the waters coming back to life.

Like the journey down the staircase, the voyage across the river seemed timeless and endless. But somewhere in that expanse of space and time Kyungsoo heard a voice calling him, faintly at first. But the sound grew louder and louder until it seemed to be coming from just outside the boat, in the churning water.

Carefully gripping the soaking edge of the boat, Kyungsoo peered into the water, only to reel back with a sharp shriek. There was a man, a dead one, drifting in aimlessly in the water, his eyes glassy, his skin gray and clammy. But his eyes seemed to follow the prince, and his mouth seemed to move in time with the words he heard. The dead man beckoned Kyungsoo to join him in the water, to take a quick swim; forget all of life’s worries and just let go in the river’s loving embrace.

 come, little prince, come, come, come, come, come, come

come home, little prince, come home 

your true home awaits, little prince, let go let go let go

With a wild cry Kyungsoo clambered back into the center of the boat, but though the dead man disappeared from his sight his voice could still be heard, and it was moving, moving, until Kyungsoo could hear his voice from directly beneath him, underneath the molding planks. Whimpering, the boy curled up into a ball, jamming his hands over his ears, but it was no use. The voice was getting louder, it was getting closer, was the man right beside him? No, no , no, no—

Suddenly the boat hit something, rocking to a messy stop. Throwing a haphazard “thank you”, over his shoulder, Kyungsoo all but scrambled off the boat, eyes flitting around. Quickly he set down the path, eager to put as much space between him and the wretched river as possible.

As far as the eye could see was ashen soil and what seemed dreary gray mists that drifted high above and in heavy fog along the contours of the land. Crumbling pillars of stone rose from the ground and disappeared into the atmosphere above, and everywhere Kyungsoo looked he could see slowly moving, indiscernible shapes that haunted the landscape. Quickly, he moved along the path, his heartbeat heavy in his ears.

It wasn’t too long until Kyungsoo saw one of those hulking figures drawing closer. It was with a sudden jolt of horror that he realized that it was another reanimated corpse. It was that of an old woman, her back crippled by time, her skin sagging off her frame. As she shuffled closer her glassy eyes sought Kyungsoo’s, and fell open to speak.

little lovely prince, how well you look skin so soft and supple, hair so silky smooth

why when I was your age I was just as beautiful if only I could turn back the clock and reclaim what I lost

but you can return it to me little prince give me just a little of your beauty you have more than enough to spare give it to me give it to me give it to me give it to me give it to me give it to me give it to me give it to me

The boy took off running wildly down the path, his only conjecture to get as far away from that awful voice as possible.

~oOo0oOo0oOo~

“Your Majesty, the mortal has arrived outside the gates of the palace.”

“Oh?” Yifan tilted his head, placing the scroll he had been perusing down. “Send for Zitao. I believe he is in his chamber, entertaining our guest.”

The shade bowed, and disappeared silently to do its master’s bidding.

~oOo0oOo0oOo~

The god of the Underworld’s palace was so close. Kyungsoo could see it, crowning the top of a jagged range of peaks, into which the trail he was following would snake. All that stood between him and continuing on his quest was a mighty iron gate and its guardian.

As he stared at the beast, Kyungsoo could only think wryly of how Cerberus, the hound of Hades, was truly worthy of his name. He was monstrous in size, his three wolfish heads towering far above Kyungsoo’s, whipping back and forth, foaming at the mouth, fangs snapping at empty grave. His red eyes were bright, intelligent, and deadly, and with every movement his body rippled with muscle.

Slowly, the prince approached the gate, his steps slow and deliberate. As he became aware of the mortals existence, Cerberus stilled, his three heads training their beady eyes on his every movement, nostrils flaring. Kyungsoo gulped but moved forward anyway, slowly pulling the mouth of his pouch open. Holding the gaze of Cerberus’ middle head, he slowly withdrew a sweet cake. Without breaking eye contact, he tossed the cake, which immediately got snapped up and swallowed. He repeated the process with the two other heads, until all three heads were their maws appreciatively.

Taking a deep breath, Kyungsoo moved forward gingerly, afraid that at any moment his world would descend into snarling jaws and gnashing teeth. But Cerberus stood still, simply watching the boy’s progress closer. His six set of eyes seemed to have lost all viciousness, and instead seemed curious. A few moments later, Kyungsoo found that Cerberus was behind him, the gate was before him, and his body was entirely intact. 

With a sigh of relief, he pushed the gate open, and continued up the path.

Hades’ palace was an incredible structure, a towering building built from ebony stone. Elegant pillars lined the palace front, a roof intricately decorated in symbols resting above them. The palace seemed utterly lifeless save the silent figure that waited before the entrance. As Kyungsoo climbed up the steps, he saw the figure seemed to be that of a young girl. But her face was hidden in a shroud and her body did not seem to be solid, and her feet did not touch the ground. And yet she did not seem malevolent, and as he drew closer and came to a stop before her, she bowed.

“Your Highness, we have been awaiting you,” she said softly, extending her arm towards the palace interior.

They traipsed—rather, she glided—through empty halls. Though everything was dark and cold and deathly quiet, Kyungsoo couldn’t help but admire the stateliness of the palace, the quiet dignity and aura of peacefulness that lingered in the air.

The wraith led him to a spacious chamber, one that was lit by several shafts of icy light that fell from the ceiling into the center of the room. Lit by this watery glow were two thrones, one grand one of black marble, one slightly smaller, wrought delicately with gold, silver, and bronze and studded with precious gems.

Only one of them was occupied.

A tall, lithe man sat on the smaller one, his legs criss-crossed. His skin was warm, the color of honey, and his dark hair fell in waves above his brilliant eyes. Despite the darkness that seemed to linger beneath his eyes, his skin had a healthy flush, and he seemed to practically glow despite his bleak surroundings. A crown of flowers, colorful and fresh, lay atop his head.

Zitao, the god of spring, sat before him. Kyungsoo knelt to the ground, holding the box aloft before him. But as he opened his mouth to speak, the god of spring smiled and held a finger to his lips.

“Please wait a moment. I’m waiting for someone.”

~oOo0oOo0oOo~

“Jongin.”

The god of love all but leapt in the air in surprise. Yifan had not made a sound, and yet here he was, standing quietly by his shoulder. Before he could say a word his arm was encased in a steely grip, and he was being steered through a maze of passageways.

“You are only to listen and watch, no more,” Yifan said cryptically as they came to a stop at the end of a short corridor. On the wall a diamond-shaped opening in the stone, providing an eagle’s-eye view into what Jongin realized was the palace’s throne room. With those words the lord of the Underworld disappeared, leaving Jongin to peer curiously into the expanse below.

He blinked. There was Zitao, sitting on his throne, and a small figure bowing on the ground before him, an object held above his head. The figure looked incredibly, heart-achingly familiar, and Jongin craned his neck to get a better view. And as the figure shifted and a ray of icy light fell upon its face, he could only stifle a gasp.

It was his little prince, his Kyungsoo.

~oOo0oOo0oOo~

A/N: …Hi? X)

HAPPY NEW YEARS LOVELIES~~~ I’m sorry it took so long, but I finally got another chapter out~~ Once again, thank you to all of you who read and are reading this story, it means so much to me~~ :3

DID I MENTION HAPPY NEW YEARS????

(I’ll come back and edit it tomorrow hee hee)