Chapter 168: Chapter 13
"The second trial is behind you. The third begins now. Stand, Orpheus of Thrace, and prove whether you are worthy to walk the path once trodden by my king."
Kaerion’s hand extended, it gleamed as if it had been forged from steel itself.
Orpheus hesitated only a moment before grasping it. The instant their palms touched, a pulse of power surged through the air, and the endless waters of the Styx seemed to tremble.
The river around them warped, its dark currents rising like walls.
In the blink of an eye, the small boat dissolved, and Orpheus found himself standing in a barren battlefield beneath a blackened sky.
The stench of blood and smoke lingered in the air, though no body nor flame could be seen.
Kaerion stood before him, his armor burning with the ghostly light of memory. His eyes were sharp, but not cruel.
"The Third Trial," he declared, voice carrying across the desolate plain. "King Herios taught us that the greatest enemy of humanity is not monster nor god, but despair. When the heavens struck us down, when our cities burned, when all seemed lost, despair claimed more lives than any sword."
He raised his hand, and from the shadows figures began to appear, hollow gray phantoms, their faces twisted by grief.
Some wept, others screamed, others simply knelt in silence, broken and unmoving.
Their cries struck Orpheus like knives to the soul.
"These are the fallen hopes of mankind. The ones who gave in, who yielded to despair. If you are to walk the path to your wife, you must endure them." Kaerion’s tone was sharp as a command, yet heavy with sorrow. "For the third trial is this: You must walk through the Field of Lost Resolve and not falter. Do not let their voices break you. Do not kneel. Do not forget why you came here. If you do... you will remain among them forever."
The phantoms stirred, and the plain stretched endlessly before Orpheus, every step promising to gnaw at his heart and soul.
Orpheus clenched his fists. His voice cracked, but held firm. "I will endure. For Eurydice, I will endure anything."
Kaerion’s stern face softened, just slightly, enough for the faintest hint of respect to glimmer in his spectral eyes.
"Then step forward, mortal. Show me that your love can stand against despair itself."
The battlefield quaked as Orpheus took his first step into the sea of shadows.
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The moment Orpheus stepped forward, the whispers began. At first they were faint, like winds brushing against his ears.
"Fool... you’ll never see her again..."
"Your body is broken. Your soul is tired. Rest here with us..."
He grit his teeth and pushed on, though every word was like a thorn dragging across his heart.
A few paces later, the shadows took form. He saw a figure—Eurydice. She stood with tears in her eyes, her hand outstretched.
"Why do you suffer so? Just stop. If you love me, rest. Don’t hurt yourself anymore..."
For a heartbeat, his knees wavered. The ache in his chest screamed for him to fall into her arms.
But he shut his eyes, tears streaming.
"You are not her... She would want me to fight, not give up."
The illusion shattered, Eurydice dissolving into smoke.
He kept walking. The ground trembled, and the whispers grew harsher. The phantoms swarmed closer, gray hands clutching at his arms, pulling at his legs.
"Your music is gone. Your voice is weak. What use are you now?"
"You are nothing without her... nothing."
Every tug felt heavier than chains. His body swayed, his steps slowed. His breath grew ragged.
But then, through the storm of voices, he remembered her laughter, the way her eyes sparkled when she looked at him.
He shouted hoarsely, forcing his legs to move. "Begone! This will not make me give up on her! I will see this trial to the end, and return to the world of the living with her!"
The chains of shadow burst, and the phantoms reeled back.
Time blurred.
He did not know if he had walked minutes, hours, or days.
His feet bled, his throat was dry, but he pressed forward.
And finally, at the far end of the plain, he saw Kaerion’s spectral form waiting.
The last phantom rose before him—a mirror of himself.
Hollow-eyed, broken, kneeling in despair.
It spoke with his own voice.
"You will fail. Even if you reach her, the gods will take her again. It is hopeless. Death is inevitable."
Orpheus trembled. His heart nearly stopped.
But then he slapped his face and whispered, almost too softly.
"Even if I fail... I must try. Even if one day death will claim her, just a chance to live with her again is worth it."
With that, he stepped through the phantom.
It let out a scream and crumbled into dust.
Finally, the battlefield dissolved, and Orpheus collapsed onto his knees, shaking and drenched in sweat.
Yet his eyes burned with life.
Kaerion’s stern gaze softened. He raised his hand in salute, the gesture of a soldier honoring a comrade.
"You endured and did not kneel. With that, I acknowledge your will. The third trial is complete." For the first time, Kaerion’s lips curved into a faint smile. "Perhaps... you are not so different from the heroes of old."
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In Hades’ office, the mirror shimmered, showing Orpheus staggering through the storm of whispers and phantoms.
Aphrodite had risen from her seat, clutching her chest as though her heart might burst.
Then she began to laugh, not mockingly, but in unrestrained joy, her golden hair glowing as if love itself radiated from her.
"Look at him! Look at him!" she cried, twirling in delight. "Even when the world tells him to surrender, even when his own beloved begs him to give up, he chooses to love! Oh, how glorious! How divine!"
Her laughter rang like bells across the chamber, pure and euphoric.
Even Hera could not help the small smile tugging at her lips.
She watched Orpheus shout against the phantoms, her eyes softening with maternal pride.
"There it is... devotion that defies despair. Perhaps this mortal is truly worthy of the gods’ grace."
Athena leaned forward, her gray eyes sharp, analyzing every choice Orpheus made.
Yet even her calculating mind could not hide the spark of admiration that gleamed within.
"He has no sword nor shield, only a lyre and his will. But he still move forward despite knowing the difficulty...." She exhaled slowly, almost reverently. "To move forward bravely, and doing what others cannot accomplish, that is true heroism."
Hecate, arms crossed, tilted her head with an unreadable expression as shadows curled faintly at her feet, showing her admiration.
"Foolish... and yet brilliant." Her lips quirked in the faintest smirk. "His love has turned into power greater than any spell I could weave—one who can banish despair itself."
Of course, she was exaggerating. She will just feel left out if she wasn’t praising the man.
Hades said nothing for a long while. His dark gaze followed Orpheus as the mortal faced down his own shadow.
When Orpheus declared he would fight even in hopelessness, something flickered in the god’s eyes—a memory, perhaps, of another mortal who once spoke with such defiance.
Finally, he spoke in his low, steady voice, "Honestly, it’s surprising. I expected him to fail at the second test, but now he is moving on to the fourth."
He closed his eyes, "He is incredibly brave and foolish. I can’t believe someone would actually endure this much torture for another person."
Then, ever so faintly, he exhaled. "I guess Herios passed on more than his will, but even his foolishness."
Aphrodite clapped her hands, practically dancing. "Did you hear that? Even my beloved moved! Oh, Orpheus, you truly are love’s champion!"
Her laughter filled the chamber again, bright and boundless, as Orpheus followed Kaerion to proceed with the next trial.