Muse

“Ahhh!” my scream echoed throughout the forest- casting the birds out of their trees in a panic. Can’t a girl dance in the forest with her friends anymore? Gods-damn.

One moment I was caught up in the tune playing from my new husband’s lyre, my feet prancing softly on the moss and wild flowers sprinkled on the forest floor, and perhaps a bit drunk- if I was being honest, when bam! Bitten by a viper out of nowhere! The music stopped and my body plummeted to the forest floor with it.

Everything was going a bit hazy, the pain chasing away consciousness with every gasping inhalation. I found myself slowly sinking deeper and deeper into the forest floor, my body like roots seeking shelter in the rich soil.

My husband, Orpheus, hovered over me, soaking my yellow linen dress with his tears, shouting my name between sobs, “Eurydice!” That was the last thing I heard before everything faded to black.

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One second I was on the forest floor, and the next I seemed to be swaying? I felt like I was choking, my eyes flew open and I bolted upright almost tipping the tiny boat I now found myself in. The sudden jolt to my body dislodged the coin in my mouth and I promptly spit it out.

“Hey, easy! You might be dead, but you can still capsize my boat. And for your sake, I would really caution against it.” He rolled his eyes at me. Last I checked he was the one rowing an unconscious woman down the river, but whatever.

Ever the contrarian, I couldn’t stop myself, “And what happens if I jump in? And where am I?”

“Considering that we’re almost to the other side of the river Styx, you would be dead. And I wouldn’t jump in unless you have aspirations of completely ceasing to exist- or if you’re really fortunate- being stuck between the mortal world and underworld for all of eternity.”

“Wow, well when you put it like that.” I deadpanned.

“Your choice, nymph” He turned to look at me, gesturing to the tumultuous river.

“My name isn’t nymph, It’s Eurydice. And what’s your name? You know, so I know who to complain about to Hades.”

“Cheron,” he grumbled.

“Admit it Cheron, this is the most fun you’ve had all day.” I smiled and crossed my arms.

“Oh I’m sorry, have I not made my feelings plain? Here I am, just trying to do my job, ferrying souls across the river to their final resting places, when all of a sudden this intolerable nymph almost capsizes my boat, and then is so annoying that she makes me question if I should be the one jumping off the boat to spare myself from another minute of this riveting conversation.”

“So that’s a yes.” I say confidently. He closes his eyes and deeply exhales before returning the oars.

I can’t remember the last time I felt this free, which is an odd thing to think while grappling with the fact I am now dead. Instantly, I feel guilt clawing its way through my intestines. What did my death mean for Orpheus? Yes, I’m sure he was shocked and probably horrified by my gruesome and sudden death, but something told me he would move on in time and be just fine? He said he loved and adored me, but if I was being brutally honest with myself, I think he mostly loved how I danced to his music and praised his abilities. I was a beautiful muse to inspire his beautiful music. I uplifted my husband like a good wife, but now maybe it was time to uplift myself? What a thought.

As I finished my reverie on my mortal life, Cheron pulled us onto shore.

“Get out of my boat,” he said grumpily.

“I’ll miss you too.” I flashed him my brightest smile, waving at him from the shore as he grumbled and set back out.

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After making it through the gates of the underworld, not as glamorous as it sounds, patting Cerebus on his heads, and being judged by the Tribunal to declare my eternal resting place (loved that part!) I was sent to the palace of Hades and Persephone, King and Queen of the Underworld. Was this some sort of welcome home party? I couldn’t recall any stories about this part of the process.

By the time I arrived in the throne room, I was greeted with the sweetest sound, a familiar plucking of strings on a lyre. I gasped when my gaze fell upon my husband. Even in death his music follows me.

As if feeling my presence, he met my eyes, his soft gaze full of longing and possession. Was it possible that he loved me so much that he followed me down here? That he sacrificed himself, his dreams, his future, to be with me? Perhaps I had misjudged his devotion and love.

Hades and Persephone were clearly impressed. When Orpheus finished his song, he bowed to the King and Queen. I felt my heart swell with love and hope for this man, who would follow me to the underworld.

“We will grant you your request Orpheus,” The King of the Underworld declared in his booming voice.

My gaze quickly snapped between my husband and Hades, trying to parse out the request I arrived too late to hear.

“You may take your wife, Eurydice, back with you to the land of the living.” He paused, “However, she may only leave with you if you agree to walk before her- and do not under any circumstances turn around until you reach the mortal realm. Is this understood?”

“You have my word. Thank you for granting me this request, and allowing me to have my wife back.”

My swelling heart immediately deflated. Once again, I had no agency over my life, or my death apparently. My husband came down to the underworld to retrieve me, like his favorite toy that he simply could not live without. He did not ask me what I wanted. He assumed in death, just like in life, that I belonged to him and my fate was in his hands to mold as he saw fit.

I was stunned into silence, but as commanded, I followed Orpheus up the path that led to the mortal realm, my incorporeal body making no discernable sounds as I kept pace with him.

As we drew nearer to the surface, I could hear the birds, could hear the mortal world calling me back. As we were 10 feet, then five feet away, I felt panic grip me. I did not wish to return to my life with him. Gods, I had a taste of freedom. Freedom from expectations, from duty. I allowed myself to stumble, and just as predicted, Orpheus turned around to catch me.

When he laid eyes on me, he realized the mistake he made, panic streaking across his face. He tried to grab a hold of me, but I was already fading away, my body returning to the throne room.

I closed my eyes, letting the tears that welled up cascade over, not out of regret or sadness, but in relief. No longer a silent muse, but someone in control of their own fate.