#poly perhaps

Although you weren't afraid of stepping inside before, but now that you were here you couldn't ignore the way that the fear clutched at your throat. Threatening to spill out at a moment's notice. But, you reminded yourself why you were here. Why you dared to step onto the cold cobble stone beneath your feet, and dared to trekk on through.

Your dear Lady. Your Mistress you serve.

Lady Persephone.

You reminded yourself that you were doing this all for her. Those lonely nights, where you could hear the soft sobbings from her cabin. The way she quietly mourned as she tended to her garden. How she always looked at you in that radiant, warm smile, telling you she was fine. You knew it within your heart. Within your very being. She was not fine. She was hurting. She was in pain.

Although she never says it, and she never tells you fully as to why, you knew. Something had happened to her long ago in the Underworld. Something that she barely speaks about. That only on nights where she is tired, and exhausted, and maybe had a sip or two of wine with her warm dinner, does she let something slip.

Whispers of a life she once had. Shadows of pains she has yet to ever speak of. An ache in her very being in the way that she tended to her gardens and little hut, never stopping to rest until she either hurt herself, or pushed her limits.

You, her little dryad, watched her for years.

Grew under her care. Helping her tend to that little garden of hers. Your tree—your pomegranate tree—was one of the trees that your Mistress Persephone used for one of her protection wards. And you've taken pride in it. In the fact that the goddess herself choose you and your tree to be her very ward. That you were to be her protector where she resides.

So, why is a nymph of the woods daring to break into the Underworld, you may ask?

Well, it is simple.

You wish to speak to the Lord of it. Lord Hades. And ask him why he has isolated his queen. Why he dares to give her such grief. To make him tell you what had happened that your Mistress Persephone weeps into her pillow at nights, whispering sobs of "my baby" leaving her lips.

Had he casted her out when she provided a child? Had he abused your Mistress? Or, had he done much, much worse to her that she dares not tell you?

You, her pomegrante dryad, who's very wood protects her house.

Although you are scared, your very being screams at you to run and never return to here, you force yourself to step forwards. You remind yourself, that tree roots naturally break through the ground. How vast their expanding branches and roots may be. How their roots could take place through the tiniest of stones, and even break them.

You will force your way through, you've decided. Like the roots of your trees. You will expand your reach. You will break whatever stone that gets in your way. You will slither through whatever cracks you may cross. All to get deeper. All to go farther.

All for your Mistress.

All for your Lady Persephone.

You can not fail here.

-----------

"I will not ask again," he commanded. "How did you get down here?"

You flinched in the way he spoke to you.

You found it hard to respond, your voice struggling to break through. You couldn't even stop the shiver that racked through your body. The way his cold hand clutched your arm, tightly, restrictive, not willing to let you escape. Your heart was pounding so loudly in your chest you wondered if he could hear it.

After all, he was Death itself.

God of Death, Thanatos.

You felt like your soul could slip out of your body with the way he held your arm. Like he could reach in and just pull your very soul out of you. The thought scared you. You still had much to do. You're not even close to where your goal resides. And yet you've been found, stuck in the hands of the God of Death himself.

You reminded yourself why you were here. Of your Mistress Persephone. Of her warm smiles, of her loud laughter, of her callosed but gentle hands. A goddess who was never afraid to get into the dirt and stick her hands right in. A woman who never seemed afraid of work. A protective rage began to be lit in your chest. Remembering her weeping nights. Of your attempts of comfort. Of all the times you've witness her fall into herself, not knowing you were peeking around the corner, never letting you fully comfort her.

You reminded yourself that nature was a cruel, yet challenging force. You dared to look into the face of the God of Death, and you forced yourself not to waver. As a dryad you've always knew. You knew how easily Death could come and take you. How fragile your lives could be. Yet you forced yourself to look at him with a fiery gaze. Willing your rage to show in the single look.

For even Death, in all his cold, yet handsome glory, seemed almost taken aback by you. Although he could feel the tremble in your arm that he held. How he had seen that look of fear in your face that all living beings had whenever they saw him. You dared to look him in the eyes. A thing that not many did.

You dared to look at him in his shining, golden, unyielding eyes. How they glowed against his grey skin. His skin reminding you of dark earthen clay, and not greying corpses. How his hair, pale and white, had strands that hung in front of his face. Like silken white curtain snow. His dark hood darkened his features, made it almost hard to really see his entire face, but there was no misplacing the way his eyes glowed in that godly sense of power. Black robes, and blacken hood, with armor and gauntlets in the color of an almost faded gold.

You dared to look at him, in his cold, yet handsome glory. Almost losing yourself in the way he looked, you pressed through, forcing your will to let you speak. You dared take a step towards him, eyes unwavering from his own, challenging him and his space. You caught the way his head slightly pulled away, clearly surprised by a dryad daring to press themselves further into Death himself. It only fueled you in your actions.

"I've come to speak to your Lord," You stated, voice almost trembling as you spoke, but you willed yourself to speak. "I've come to speak to Lord Hades himself. Do not think me an ordinary nymph I am sure you've come across. I come seeking answers—answers that I will not stop until I have them!"

The god Thanatos regards you for a moment. His golden eyes taking notice of your face, then traveling down to your clothes, your body, and back up to you. You tried not to shiver under the gaze. In how he evaluated you. In that cold, calculating look. His features did not give hint to what he was thinking of. Of what he thought as he gazed upon you. But you kept your hands clutched into fists, your body still tense in his hold, as your mind was already trying to think of ways to break free and make a run for it.

But, he then did something unexpected that even made you falter.

He let out a single breathy chuckle, almost huffing, as his mouth quirked into a smirk.

"My, what a daring little wood nymph," he spoke at last. Sounding humored by you. "You are a long way from your tree, little dryad. What is it that you wish from Lord Hades?"

You hesitated. Should you really trust him, you wondered? To tell him why you dare venture so far down? A part of you screamed to tell him nothing. To not give him a single ounce of your time. But, then the other part said tell. Tell him maybe a thing or two. The God of Death was clutching at your very arm and you would dare be cross with him? You had to play this right. You had to play this carefully.

If you didn't, he could take your soul right where you stood.

"I come in the name of my Mistress," You spoke barely above a whisper, afraid of others hearing what you have to say, only loud enough for him to hear. "I come seeking to speak with Lord Hades about my Mistress, Lady Persephone."

-----------

"Hey, just what are you? I've never seen a person like you before."

You clicked your tongue, wringing out your bottom robe of the water that soaked them. As you twist with your hands you barely gaze up from the person who had knocked you down. Granted, he did save your life, but he didn't have to get you all wet whilst doing it.

"Rather rude to ask a person what they are, don't you think?" You scoffed, more focused on drying your clothes than to look at him.

"Sorry, I had meant no offense, truly." The man said as he stepped closer towards you, now being in the corner of your sight. "Let's try this again, yeah? My name is Zagreus. What's yours?"

A soft sigh escaped your mouth as you dropped your clothes, getting out as much water as you could. For someone who annoyed you, at least he was quick to apologize. As you lifted your head to gaze up at him, seeing how he was holding his hand out to you, your jaw slightly slacked at the sight of him.

You certainly didn't think that going into the Underworld would have you meeting all these gorgeous people.

He reminded you of a god, the way his facial features seemed chistled. The way he seemed so similarly mortal. But the greyness of his skin and the flickering flames at his feet told you differently. At first you thought, maybe he was a kind of Underworldly being. Like Furies, or daemons, maybe. But, you've noticed that Gods tend to have the ability of being almost "larger than life," and the man before you seemed fitting of the phrase.

But when you caught sight of his eyes, by the gods themselves, was he handsome. One eye glowing red, seeped into a darkness and shadow that almost seems to naturally try to encase it. But then his other eye, green as fresh grass, stared down at your form in curiosity. It almost took your breath away by the sight.

Then, something began to itch in the back of your mind as you continued to stare. The way his hair as black as ash was swept to the side in a spiky mess. The green eye that peered down at you. It was strange to you, looking at him. As if you had seen him before, but not quite. You caught sight of the flaming laurals upon his head and knew that, yes indeed, he was a god. God of what you were unsure, as you knew if he was the one you were after, he probably would not be this kind towards you, and introducing himself in a name you've never heard before.

You knew of enough of the gods. Lady Persephone would sometimes ramble, usually mad or frustrated, about the Gods of Olympus. Even without her aid, you've learned about them through the gossips of plants and nymphs. However, you never heard of a Zagreus before. Was he perhaps a chthonic god, you wondered? Like Thanatos, the God of Death.

You watched as he falted, his eyes gazing away from you as his lips pressed together in an awkward line. His hand fell away from you, and you realized to your horror that you hadn't answered him. Instead you stared like a bafoon and probably insulted him.

"I-I'm sorry–" You quickly tried to correct yourself and gave him your name, not thinking twice on the importance of that fact, and quickly offered your hand out to him. "–I was just… Lost in thought, I suppose. I did not mean to offend you, I apologize."

Zagreus gave you a small smile, one that somehow took your breath away, and took your hand. There was a chill in his finger tips, one that made you shiver, like all the other Underworldly beings seemed to have. But the palm of his hand contradicted his fingers, being warm, and calloused. You didn't expect them to be big enough to enveloped yours, but he had, as he gently shook your hand.

"None taken," Zagreus said as you noticed the way his eyes flickered to gaze upon you. Did all gods like to do that to you? "I've never heard of a name like yours. Nor have I really seen you before. Have you always been here, in Elysium?"

Oh, thickets, of course he realized. A guess a part of you shouldn't be surprised. You didn't exactly blend in well with the spirits and tormented souls all around you. Yes, this place was Elysium, where heroes and gentle souls go, but you were still a sore thumb through it all. You gently pulled your hand away, realizing he was still holding it, and allowed it to rest upon your arm. Hugging yourself. A barrier added between you and him. You hadn't noticed his reluctence on letting go of your hand, or the way it hovered in the air once you let go.

"I… Guess you could say it's a first, for me," You murmured as you were afraid of saying too much. "If you are unsure of what I am, I am known as a Dryad. Or, tree Nymph. Which ever works for you, I suppose…"

"A dryad? Fascinating," Zagreus said as he looked you up and down again. "I haven't met many of those before. You said this was your first time here? Freshly dead, are you?"

A part of you couldn't help but blink at him. Did he… truly believe you to be dead? You felt your heart leap in your chest at the notion. Perhaps he wasn't as sharp as the others you had encountered on your way here. Maybe that'd a little rude to say. He seemed almost… naive to you. Like he hadn't heard much about the being that you are. Maybe you shouldn't blame him. After all, with so many dead spirits floating around, even you have a hard time telling who is mortal and who was other.

"…You could say that," You said. Not wanting to lie to him, feeling almost guilty for it. He has been kind to you so far. A thing you haven't experienced much in this place. It felt almost foreign to you even now.

"I should… probably thank you from before." You formally faced him and gave him a slight bow, a hand gently on your chest, and the other grabbing your robe to lightly hold it out. "Thank you for saving me. I appreciate it very much."

"No problem, and uh, you don't need to bow," Zagreus said as he gently reached out to you and lifted you lightly by your shoulders. You couldn't help but take notice in the way he was holding your shoulders now. "But, I do have to say…" Zagreus spoke as he raised a brow to you. "For someone who's dead, I can't normally feel them in this way."

Oh, thistle…! Guess you should have thought it more through…!

---------

Oh, how your muscles burned.

You panted lightly as you glared lightly at your opponent across from you.

A whiched grin was carved onto her brightly painted lips. Clearly huffing herself. You've made it this far, keeping up with the whiched Fury who practically towered over you. Her single wing large enough to probably envelope you whole. You could see the cuts on her arms that you gave her. More like nicks, than anything substanial. But a wound was a wound, and she was panting just as much as you were.

That had to mean something.

"My, who would've thought a little plant such as yourself could be so clever?" The Fury chuckled, using a knuckle to wipe away a spot of grime that got onto her cheek.

It made you shiver, the way she laughed. How almost sultry she spoke, how her voice unnaturally echoed within itself. Gods, was everyone down here so pretty? You had no idea that a famed tormentor of the Underwold could be so damned attractive. But as pretty as she may seemed, you had a job to do. A mission that she was in the way of. You couldn't afford the distraction now. You had to keep pressing onwards. And you knew, deep within your very being, that if you stopped now, you were never going to make it back to this point.

You couldn't afford to lose.

"That's the thing with you powerful beings," You responded and squared your shoulders higher. Trying to keep your pride. Trying to not show the way your arms trembled before her. "All you ever see is our pretty faces, and believe us to be just that. Pretty. But I am far more than that…"

You held your hands out in front of you, fingers hooked in claws as they wiggled methodically in the air. The Fury's smirk faded as she felt a rumble beneath the ground. She gazed down, perturbed, only to be shocked as roots rapidly emerged from the ground where she stood. She tried to jump back but you were far quicker. The roots wrapped around her, keeping her held down, her one wing flapping as she struggled against the strong spell you've cast.

You've begun to move your hands now, moving them in circles in front of you, as if stirring a pot, encouraging your roots to grow. They tightened around her, thickening. Pulling her to the ground. The Fury gazed up at you, challenge in her eyes, as she just scoffed in your direction.

"What, you think this'll keep me down?" The Fury known as Megaera said as she almost seemed amused by your attempts. "I can break out of this with ease. Is that all a weak little plant like you has to offer?"

"My goal wasn't to keep you restrained," You spoke as you eyed her coldly. "I am not as merciful as your prince appears to be. Do you know what kind of tree I am?"

You didn't let her respond. As you felt the roots were enough, watching the way they crawled up her arms, legs, and even to her neck, you felt like it was the perfect time. With one quick motion you threw your arms up, hands opening up and fingers spread wide.

Thick, large, jagged thorns produced from the vines. You heard the way the Fury grunted, teeth gritting, as rapidly thorns began piercing her body. You tried not to flinch at the sounds made, tried not to flinch at the sight of her blood you spilled. The Fury had no time to react as the thorns shot out like daggers, piercing her all over her body. By the time they got to her neck she was throwing her head back, yelling into the air, feeling the pain take her.

You willed yourself to be strong. To not waver from the sight. You were so close. You've made it so far. You could not back down from this fight, even if you had only ever wanted to avoid it. It was she who demanded blood. But it will not be yours that gets spilled today.

"…I am a pomegranate dryad," You spoke allas, as you could feel the strain from it all beginning to take toll on you. "I may bare fruit and pretty flowers, but I also bare thorns and tough skin. Good luck trying to pierce mine. I am not as dainty as you may think."

Megaera rasped a breath, seeming to struggle to breathe with thorns in and against her throat. But what you hadn't expected was a laugh. It came out soft, almost strained and raspy, then it grew. She threw her head back laughing, her voice echoing even within the chamber. A noise that made a shiver go down your spine like fingers had traced your back. It made your confidence waver.

Why was she laughing?

The Fury then gazed upon you, a grin baring as she laid her eyes on you. It made you let out a soft gasp, seeing the reinvigorated Fury behind those golden eyes. Although she wasn't as terrifying to look at like the others, there was a something off in that smile. A crazed look in her eyes. Hungry, you thought. Predatory. Like a beast that has smelled blood and knows it must feast.

And you? Although it was you who had attacked, you felt like a deer who has been caught in eyesight.

"Alright, fine. Let's play it your way," Megaera said with a wicked grin. One pulled so far it was now that you noticed the sharp canines in what appeared to almost be normal teeth.

It happened so fast.

She shot up in the air, your roots and vines breaking, her completely being free from your grasp. You couldn't help but shield your face from the wind she created, your eyes struggling to remain open as she flew. By the time the wind eased you lowered your arms in time to see Megaera landing, whip in hand, as she brought herself to stand to her towering height. You tried not to let yourself shudder, tightening your stance as you realize that she wasn't as easy as Zagreus always made it seem to be.

"What're you waiting for, petals?" Megera smirked at you, brandishing her whip with a quick crack. "I'm going to enjoy marking your skin…"

Your stomach twisted at the words, a quick flush in your body, but you brace yourself nonetheless. You reminded yourself that this could mean your life on the line. You hadn't challenged her for giggles or anything like that. In order to meet the Lord of the Underworld, you are going to have to get past her.

Oh, Lady Persephone, forgive me.

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"Run! Go!"

Your breath quickened as you turned and ran.

You could hear the sounds of barking behind you.

Your heartrate quickened as you focused on running, too afraid to look back. Your feet pounded against the ground, echoing in the rooms as you ran. You were unaware of the shades that watched you, intrigued, or the way that there was shouting for the doors to shut. You could see them. The doors closing.

"Cerberus, heel! Down boy!" Zagreus's yells could be heard.

But even you were sure that no matter how much he yelled, the monsterous dog wouldn't listen.

You heartbeat quickened, the pulse quickening in your ears, as your blood felt almost cold. Every bark that boomed, every snap of jagged jaws, brought terror into your soul. You had made it so far! You had been so close! And although you didn't want to leave, you had no choice, otherwise that three headed monster would kill you.

You could feel the ground reverberate with each stomp of his paws. Hear the way his claws clicked and dug into the ground. How each bark made you flinch and want to cover your ears as they boomed in your ear canals.

Once again you felt like the deer.

Pure fear striking you, your eyes set on the closing doors as you felt your hopes diminishing. As you got closer to the doors, seeing the gap closing more and more, your heart pounding as you felt panic taking over, you realized finally.

After all this time.

After all this fighting.

You were going to die.

And your mistress, your precious Lady Persephone, would be none the wiser into how you disappear. At the very least, you thought, that she would still have your tree to be her ward. But she will not have you. Her protector. Her Dryad. Her "little sprout."

Lady Persephone will no longer have her pomegranate dryad.

The thought in itself brought a cry through you lips as you could sense the snapping jaws behind your back. You will never see your Lady smile again. Feel the sun rays upon your skin. Help tend to her garden with her, and talk for hours and hours about whatever comes to your mind. You won't ever feel her warm hands, or feel her warm comforting embrace.

Oh, what a fool you were.

You had gotten so far.

It was unfair!

Yet, that was life.

Unfair. Harsh and brutal. Like the cold weather that frosted the lands for months on end. That even on calm days you had to fight just to live. That living was an unless struggle. A cycle. One that a nature spirit such as yourself understood well. You live, you thrive, you produce fruits and flowers, and something will cause you to wither and die. You decay, and life will eat upon your corpse, so that they may live and thrive, and continue it's never ending cycle.

You felt as though you were used to the idea of death.

That you would die, ride upon the ferryman's boat, and face judgement.

But now here you are, running from the embodiment of death behind you, feeling it's unnaturally hot breath and feeling it's jaws snapping at you, afraid to die.

Afraid to die by his maws.

Afraid to be pierces by his claws.

You could see it now, him chomping down on you, snapping you in two.

You'd wither up into bark, your life ending, as food for the dog of the Underworld.

Perhaps he will use you like a stick toy, playing with your corpse, until he grew bored of you. Maybe it was the only way.

The only way to see Lord Hades himself.

It occured to you, through all the panic in your mind, your heart leaping in fear, and your legs burning in strain as you urged them to move faster. That maybe, just maybe, the only way to see the Lord of the Underworld himself, was to die.

All for your Mistress.