Once he loved me, a grandchild who was his pride. Perhaps he
still remembers. Give to him this mirror, for in it he shall see
my visage. And as I age, so shall indeed the image on which he
gazes. It is his curse. Let him reap its reward."
She expected no reply, and was gone so swiftly none was
possible.
He glanced at the mirror from the side of his eye. He blinked.
Truly, it was not his own image, but hers. He carefully placed
the mirror in his pouch. Perhaps, after all, Cronus would relent.
One might think that, to reach Tartarus, the path would be
first through Hades. And having passed through that monstrous
domain Tartarus would lie ahead.
Indeed, Tartarus lies far below even the inferior regions of
Hades. Solitary, neighborless - there is no common border, no
entry or exit. Tartarus stands alone. None may enter. None may
leave. To those who live therein its bounds are endless. To
those who dwell without it is but a speck, lacking depth,
lacking width, lacking height.
Demo searched. He found not Tartarus. He found not Cronus. And
so he slept. And as he slept, Cronus found him!
Each night he lay down to rest, tired from his travels. Each
morning he awoke, unrested, the weight of passing years pressing
down upon him. Yet, the sun had made its own journey, and it was
but the start of a new day. He felt in his bones aches he had
never known. The muscles that served well afore now weakened,
gave way under exertion.
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