Power to the powerless

I can’t see past the last point of mortal order and underworld dysphoria. Everything is blurry. A white space filled with a black hole as I am left in a chaotic world of darkness and death.

My home is now a place of death. I keep replaying the events that made me fall into such a strange and tragic place. I keep telling myself I will escape it.

Am I the unlucky angel that fell from a place of pride and desire?

My mother wanted me to bring joy, light and love to the world. I brought the first seedling that cried out for me to bring it life into the once frost-bitten earth: it unnerved my senses, bringing tears to my eyes.

I had all of this power and nothing to do with it. I felt a deep sense of relief shine through my heart, yet grief. Now, I felt the dead writhe as I hear them cry cold things into my ear, apologies and wishes and prayers.

I wondered why I was brought here. It wasn’t until I saw the volcanic rocks and stream near Avernus that I realized that I was brand-new. I had a dream that I would grant the same light I brought to humans as well for the dead. I will use my light to bring power to the powerless.

I saw the pain of death being a chokehold to the human spirit.

“What if death was a relief to others rather than a burden?” I asked Hades in a burst of confidence. My anger was the first thing I felt that latched onto my heart like a baby to his mother.

“We judged them and they are left to their fate,” He responded curtly.

My anger rose like a phoenix. Now, I fly.