Misshapen head, twisted body, covered with hide plated with
metallic scales, it stood tall above them.
But he is not the only one to recognize the creature.
Beside him Persephone starts, cries out. "No, let me be free of
you!"
A gasping chortle issued from the swollen lips of the creature.
"Ah, princess, it is fit we meet here by the Tarn of Eternity.
Only its waters can still the fires of Hell. And even they
cannot still my love for you."
The words, meant to express deep feelings, were grotesque when
voiced in a broken, harsh whine by the monstrosity. And yet Demo
noted, the eyes held a devotion that was real.
"Pluto, go back to your world. Leave me to live in peace with
my mother. I will never return to Hades. Better a short life on
earth than eternity in Hades."
"Persephone, I will never release you. My love for you is
without an end. You will be mine forever."
This travesty on words of love, voiced by a creature totally
devoid of humanity, brought tears to the eyes of the young
maiden.
The final task! Destroy the unseen companion! Pluto! Brother of
Zeus! More powerful than any save Zeus himself!
A tear came to Demo's eye. No mortal could accomplish this
task! Yet, though he die in the struggle, he was committed.
Athena, remember me, for I have loved you!
He was no longer tired. He drew strength from the imminent
danger.
He took a deep breath, drew an arrow from its pouch, notched it
to the string.
"You jest! What power is in your weapons?" once more Pluto
speaks.
"I have followed you far, and your arrows have not found their
mark. Do you not know, that nothing you can do will destroy me.
I am immortal. I dwell in Hades, Master of that infernal region.
Only the waters of the Tarn of Eternity can quench those flames."
He laughed, loud and harshly, without humor.
"Now stand up, tall and brave." he sneered, "I tire of this
childish game, and you are about to die."
As Pluto lifted his huge fist Demo drew the bowstring. A
threshing from the side of the pathway, distracted him.
He paused.
Before either he or Pluto could move another interfered.
From the brush a deep growl was heard, and in a moment Rough
stood in the path of the threatening fiend. He crouched, eyes
blazing.
And sprang!
Caught in mid air by a blow from the monstrous figure, Rough
fell, rolled over, lay quiet. Demo released his arrow!
It struck, then fell blunted from Pluto's thick hide.
"I struck the animal only a light blow. I too had Cerberus, and
of all creatures only he loved me. The dog shall live. But not
you, earthling."
Pluto once more turned toward Demo, his deadly intention
evident.
"No, Pluto, no more! I can stand no more of you, no more of
your evil ways."
Persephone rushes by Demo, dodges by Pluto.
Frozen, Demo stands motionless. Still, there is one who acts.
With a desperate lunge Pluto tries to stop the maiden.
Too late!
She flings herself from the edge of the cliff!
Down she falls, down, finally to plummet into the cold depths
of the Tarn of Eternity.
Pluto turns, dives into those murky waters. Plummets downward
to rescue her from their frigid embrace!
As the waves touch him he screams.
The waters roil and tear at him as though the tarn were a
living creature, a beast of prey. Blood stains the roiled
surface.
Demo rushes down the tortured pathway, his lungs and throat
burning. A stone turns and he falls, slipping over the edge of
the escarpment. The roiling waters of the Tarn of Eternity licks
hungrily at the boulders below. They crash against the shore,
waiting for their next prey.
Slowly, painfully, he regains the path, continues his
precipitous journey. Finally arriving at the rock strewn shore,
he throws himself down as the air rushes through his burning
throat.
There is no sign of life on the Tarn. The water, never still,
moves in chaotic pattern. Swirls and streams, whirlpools and
rapids, never still.
Then it rises from the deepest, coldest depths. Pluto!
Pluto swims slowly, uncertainly, moving toward the shore where
Demo now sits. Demo rises, defiant. A broken sword from some
ancient war, lay on the ground, and he seizes it in desperation.
And then he remembers. The broken sword of the warrior!
Unsullied by its mishap, the broken blade still shines. Holding
the weapon in his hand he waits on the shore, watches the
tumultuous waters of the tarn.
Even in his torture, Pluto swims in desperate search for
Persephone. But the dark green waters hide their prey.
And then he sees her!
Quickly, thrashing his way to the drowning girl, Pluto dives
beneath the murky depths. He lifts her from the water's deadly
embrace. Cradled in Pluto's arms, her face white above the dark
surface, she seems more dead than living. Thrashing the deadly
waves Pluto brings her to the shore.
Demo raises the broken sword high, waiting!
Pluto stalks onto the shore carrying her like a doll, gently,
in his huge arms. Turning to Demo, Pluto growls in the angry
voice he could not renounce, "Save her." He lays her softly on
the ground, lays her gently on the sandy beach.
Throwing aside the sword Demo falls to his knees beside the
child.
Demo turns her on her stomach , ministers to her. And finally
he is rewarded by the slightest movement, a sign of life. Soon
she begins to cough, to breathe.
Pluto stands quietly, watching. What on another creature might
have been a smile touches his lips. On his cheek a trickle of
liquid. Water from the Tarn of Eternity?
"She lives." He utters, half question, half statement.
"Yes, she lives."
There was no question now. The tears were real.
For a moment Pluto turns away, then turns once more to look at
her. "I grant you your life, earthling. Care for her. Help her,
human. For this I spare your life. Quickly, now, for as I
forecast, the Tarn of Eternity is quenching the fires of hell,
and quenching the very life from me. Yet I pass on willingly,
that she may live."
He pauses, looks out toward the center of the Tarn.
"These waters, as foretold, have destroyed me."
Though Demo had paid attention only to Persephone, he had still
noted the horrible oozing of Pluto's blood from a thousand
wounds.
"It is over. I go to my fate. Tell her this. With her
departure, what hope in Hades dwelt no longer lingers. And tell
her, that in my own way, I loved and love her still."
He turns.
With a dignity born of valor he wades into the dark waters,
marches stolidly into the ravenous waters that swirl and froth
and tear at his body. Their waves lap ever higher until,
silently, he disappears beneath the surface, into their clouded
depths.
And, though he were a denizen of Hell, one could but think,
'True love deserves better.'
Quickly Demo turned to the maiden. In those few moment her
breathing once more has ceased. Loosing her bodice he turns her
over, lets the dank water seep from her lips.
Almost he gives up hope. And then she once more stirs, moans.
She moves, half sat, wide-eyed. Gently he holds her hand.
She looks wildly around.
"Where is he? Is he gone?"
He told her of Pluto's last words, of how Pluto died - evil,
misshapen, cast out from the heavens. Of how he knowingly cast
himself into the deadly waters of the Tarn of Eternity for her
sake.
Hated by all. Destroyed, though, not by any of these, not by
the power of his enemies. Destroyed by the one small touch of
goodness left in him, the ability to love.
Bemused she looked at the now placid surface of the tarn.
Pensively she gazed at the quiet, dark waters. And though she
is silent he noted the quiet tears upon her cheeks. Then she
rose slowly, walked to the water's edge, and reached out to a
green weed growing there.
"Mother, grant me beauty." She whispered the words.
And as she touched the plant a white flower bloomed, fell into
her outstretched hand.
"As you have died for love, oh Pluto, I pity you. And though
you will be remembered for the evil of your ways, and as master
of the infernal regions, one consolation you shall have."
She tossed the flower with its large white petals out on the
now still waters.
"When the water lilies bloom, you shall be remembered, not for
your vices, but for your one saving grace.
"You will be remembered for this, that you gave up eternity to
save the one you loved." She paused, a sob in her voice.
"Rest well, Oh Prince of Darkness."
A tear trickled down her cheek, and her voice was tremulous.
Even as she spoke the face of the pond rippled, and the white
beauty of the water lilies spread. Quickly they carpeted the
waters along the shore. Gently rocking with the ebb and flow of
the ripples they spread their beauty ever farther.
She sat by the quiet waters, stared vacant-eyed toward its
farther shore. Turning, she glanced at Demo.
"I remember, when I was a little girl, a poem. It was of a
brave warrior, and the woman he loved."
She spoke the stanzas, not to him; softly to herself. Her
voice, partially choked by emotion, blended with the soft wind
and the rippling waves of the tarn.
"For love of maiden fair,
"He walks untrodden ways,
"And fights with dragons in the air,
"And evil ogres he slays.
"For love of maiden fair,
"He sailed on unknown seas,
"And dared the demon in his lair.
" 'Mongst haunted, ghostly trees.
"For love of maiden fair,
"He lay him down to die,
"And asked a token only there,
"A teardrop from her eye.
"For love of gallant youth,
"More than a tear she gave,
"She would not live with constant ruth -
"Slept by him in his grave."
"There will be no poem for him!"
As she spoke a break occurred in her voice, and a sadness.
Perhaps she had not loved Pluto, but surely she had pitied him.
"He was ugly, hated, feared. I, who knew him best, held him in
awe. And yet, for all his faults, he was gentle. Though master
of that dark domain, he wept for those within. Though he had
power, he had not the power to set them free.
"He loved me. A strange love, perhaps. When I returned for that
brief moment to my mother, he wept. And when I returned to him
once more, his face was radiant.
"Did I love him?"
She was silent. Yet, tears flowed from her eyes.
"Love? What is Love?"
She walked restlessly by the tarn, breathed deeply.
"Mother, I would rest. Take me home." She sobbed.
Demo listened silently, head bowed. Though a tragedy had now
ended, still there was tragedy. How strange indeed this life,
where evil destroyed did not bring happiness. Where maiden
rescued did not bring joy. Where task performed did not bring
triumph.
He picked up the broken sword, gazed at it musingly. With a
half smile he shook his head, tossed it aside.
Finally he turned to comfort her, but she was gone. Where she
had stood a rose bush grew. Its single blossom, one deep red
rose, hung low in sorrow. A vagrant wave gently kissed its soft
petals.
With a sigh Demo turned to climb again the mountain. Above its
peaks a lone white cloud drifted. Sun's rays lit the tree tops.
The final task was done.
"Rough, you've come back . . . , alone! Oh, and you're hurt."
She dropped to her knees beside the dog, felt of his legs, ribs.
"At least there aren't any bones broken."
She stood up, thinking.
"You wouldn't have deserted him if he were in danger. I'm sure
of that. So he sent you home. I only wish I knew that he is
safe. Well, come, boy, I have some food for you."
She patted the dog, took him inside. After feeding him she
stood in the open door.
A tear formed in her eye, and she wiped it away.
"Athena, if you truly love him, protect him."