by Haley Wartalski

Orpheus' song is pounding behind my eyes and throughout my ear drums. A melody once beloved but haunts my dreams and reality. The primary message is about his beloved Eurydice, the underlying meaning if you listen deep enough is about crossing the barrier between the living and the dead. No small feat and nearly impossible.

While I’ve grown accustomed to the darkness, the stillness, even finding solace in it, today there’s no comfort. My skin feels tighter than usual, the luminous glow of my pale skin appears to have more color. More rosy and warm. Everything’s shifting and growing, like a caterpillar molting into a butterfly.

The sense of urgency picks up, the tempo becoming more pressing. The air stale and suffocating. Dry enough where no amount of liquid will help my parched throat. I stumble at first, away from the Palace of Hades, a tug from my sternum like an invisible string pulling me forward. My surroundings pass in a blur; the Fields, the Furies, the Rivers, Charon and lastly Cerberus, who lets out a low whine that rumbles across the Underworld. The ground is marginally softer. I can see a glow, actual sunlight emitting through the cracks and darkness. My bare foot catches on a root and then another. Before I can think to catch my next breath, I’m soon pulled to the ground.

The thorny vines latch around my ankles, digging into the flesh of my skin. Though their intent is never to intentionally harm, a warm wetness follows suit. Their wails echo around me, bouncing off the half dead trees and persistent darkness. I dig my nails into the ground, enough to leave claw marks and slide my body across the cold ground. Behind me flowers spring up just to wither away as the coarse ground cuts up my clothes and skin. The soil’s not enough to keep life abundant.

At last my fingers brush real, living flowers. Birds chirping and animals scurrying across the ground are the first real things I hear. My ribs rasp with defrost, creaking and shifting little by little. The cold is slowly diminishing while warmth fissures throughout. I drag myself into an upright position, gaining spirit quicker than I could’ve anticipated. The ground begins to thaw, patches of brown, yellow and green emerge. The bewitching smell of narcissus penetrates my nose. The musky and sweet smell that I’ve missed so dearly. Helianthus and cyclamen are visibly sprouting across the meadow. Their magenta, mahogany and white popping up like colored specks in the field.

Orpheus' song fades quietly into the background now that there’s no longer a barrier. The melody’s softer, like a lullaby, instead of a constant drum. A girlish laugh escapes me, light and airy. I raise my arms above me, and twirl. My previously darker ragged dress turns into a pastel color that swirls around my ankles. The cuts on my feet softened by the growing grass. Helios shining warmly against my cheeks as I turn towards the light blue sky. A mild spring breeze ruffles my chestnut hair that’s already more full and vibrant. The crown weaved into my hair has become softer, instead of thorns and twigs it’s blossomed with wildflowers once again.

Behind me there’s a small grove of poplar and willow trees, but above the branches, in a dark corner, is a soft gentle purr. At a closer look, I notice vibrant orange eyes. A black and white striped patch on its neck. The most prominent feature is the chestnut and black diamonds on the bird's wings. A turtle dove. Seems I'm not the only one awaiting spring.

❀✿❀

Haley Wartalski (she/her) writes fantasy romance. You can read her drabble "Journey Softly" from Manawaker Studio and "Entombment to the Myth" in The Icarus Writing Collective Magazine.