Perseus Abyssos (6)
After that, Hermes headed back first.
Giggling about how he was going to report Hades's wistful expression to Zeus, he looked for all the world like a brat about to get his head smacked by his parents.
From the moment the book project began, I was treated so well it almost felt wrong. The dead waited on me hand and foot, and I gathered the talents of writers who'd been famous in life, embroidering Hades's boasts into something properly mythic. Even then they obeyed my every order without complaint, so for a brief stretch I got to taste what it might feel like to be king of the Underworld myself.
The real surprise was how excellent the Underworld's bathing facilities turned out to be. Apparently the subterranean realm left a man with more free time than he knew what to do with, and baths had become Hades's one true hobby. Every sea and river on earth sprang from the cracks in these underground stones, so water was never a concern. Considering how Roman thermae later grew out of the bathing customs of the ancient Greeks, it all felt perfectly natural. If anything, Hades owning a bathhouse this sophisticated at this point in history made him something of a pioneer.
Of course, that great Rome didn't exist here, so it was useless trivia. This was a flat-earth mythological world; the only foreign threats were monsters. I was sorting through my modern knowledge, telling myself most of it meant nothing, when Hades suddenly appeared and climbed into the same bath. Before I knew it we were scrubbing each other's backs, spending a stretch of time so absurdly intimate it defied all reason.
………What the hell am I even doing?
Pressed up against Hades in the same tub. Terrifying.
Mostly in the chastity-of-the-rear sense!
"I worry I might be overstepping, somehow."
"In what way?"
So I asked, naturally enough, whether I was being rude. From my end it was a question about whether he was about to jump me — a question I would later regret asking.
"Even through a child's eyes, the situation feels a bit much. Sitting here so comfortably in the same bath as Lord Hades… isn't that a breach of etiquette?"
"Ah… don't trouble yourself over it. Having a guest in this lonely place is joy enough on its own. I have a daughter, but no son — so every now and then, something like this isn't so bad."
"I was under the impression you did have a son, my lord."
"Yes. I did, once."
……Ah. Damn. I misspoke.
I braced for a sudden roar of anger, but Hades didn't raise his voice. He simply explained, quiet and low. He'd had a son named Zagreus, he said, who'd died long ago. Even a god, it seemed, would bare his heart once he was naked in a bathhouse.
"Not as young as you, but still far too young to die. We tried afterward, but no child came, and for a long while I was… despondent. Then you appeared — bright and clever, so young — and without meaning to, I saw him in you."
"………!"
A damp hand rose from the bathwater, settled on my head, and ruffled my hair. The face smiling down at me with the easy fondness of a man looking at his grandchild held more fatherly warmth than majesty. Given how much a son meant in this age, there had to be a vast hole carved through Hades's heart.
"Did Lord Zagreus resemble you, my lord?"
I asked it while giving the tip of my own hair a light tug — wondering whether a handsome middle-aged man with black hair and black eyes might have fathered a black-haired, black-eyed son.
"Haha. Yes, he did take after me. And what a coincidence — you share the same coloring. That's why the resemblance struck me all the harder."
"If the three of us had stood together, someone might well have mistaken us for something."
"Hm? Mistaken us for what?"
"I won't say what. Even if Lord Hades looks upon me so kindly, to speak it aloud would be far too presumptuous and rude. I'm already blessed enough simply to sit face-to-face with you — so please, treat that last remark as a slip of the tongue and let it pass."
"Haha… you little…"
Sensing I'd edged into dangerous territory, I muddled the rest. Hades seemed to think the same, because he didn't ask twice. Crisis averted. I changed the subject.
"If it wouldn't be an imposition, might I ask about the structure of this place? It's a bathhouse finer than anything one could ever see on the surface — my curiosity won't leave me alone. I'm certain even the Olympians don't have anything like this."
"Of course they don't. Those lot may have plenty to preen about, but when it comes to baths, this place is unmatched. It's my pride and joy — ask whatever you like. I'll explain every last detail."
"I'm grateful. In that case, first—"
And from there, the conversation stretched on and on.
It began as Hades simply boasting about his baths, and I hadn't expected it to go long — until I started offering a few examples from my own knowledge of bathhouses.
What about this?
This wouldn't be half bad either, would it?
Might this help as well?
Ah, and there's this!
I had the Wisdom Pocket, true, but even without it I knew plenty about public baths. I'd come from an age when communal bathhouses thrived, after all — the ideas wouldn't stop. We were already pressed close and laughing, and once my suggestions started pouring out like a broken dam, the laughter only grew louder until we were fully in sync, finishing each other's thoughts.
Up to that point, fine.
The problem was……
"How goes the book?"
"The dead you assigned me were so capable it finished already."
"Hahaha! Then we start construction at once! Come, Perseus! Let's go!"
The writing had gone so smoothly that we'd already made plans to spend the leftover time building baths together!
I'd been scheduled to return within four days!
And I'd finished a brand-new mythological text in two!
The remaining two days were spent mobilizing every idle shade for bathhouse construction. For the record, the book's title was Megiste Abyssos — the Greatest Abyss. It was a hell-tome wreathed in blue flame, designed so any mortal who laid eyes on it would know at a glance that it was dangerous.
One copy for my personal use, one for the temple, and one spare — three volumes in total. Anyone who opened the book would hear the voices of the dead lingering near its owner.
Yeah, even I could tell I'd made something terrifying. And instead of feeling pride or a sense of accomplishment, I went straight into bathhouse construction!
What am I even doing?!
Am I an idiot?!
"Hey! Hey! You shade over there! Stop slacking and do it properly — properly! Lord Hades is watching! You want a trip to Tartarus?!"
"That section — reinforce it in a pyramid structure. We can't have anyone getting hurt."
Hades and I split up and began construction based on the design ideas I'd prepared while writing the book. Behind the underground palace, a massive structure took shape piece by piece, and the scale of the work grew so absurd I kept wondering whether any of this was allowed.
The shades threw themselves into it, hoping that catching the eye of the god of the Underworld might earn them a better lot in the afterlife.
Labor costs: zero. Workforce: a thousand-strong army. The construction was disgustingly fast.
"Perseus. How do you think we should handle this part?"
"This is for guests, so why not go a little over the top — something to delight and astonish the visiting gods? For instance, something like this… spinning around… and then dropping down like so……"
"Oho. …And then?"
"This section has a constant flow of water, so for the ride down, we'd do it like this……"
With hands to spare during the bathhouse work, another idea surfaced, and before long we found ourselves building an actual swimming pool. This place had water to spare, so once we started brainstorming anything water-related, the suggestion just slipped out — and Hades latched onto it with genuine interest, seeking my opinion.
Rumble! Rumble! Crash!
By that point it was less construction and more a full gut renovation of the palace's rear grounds. The racket was so tremendous that Cerberus, who'd been barking up a storm, flattened his ears, crept over to us trembling, and cowered at our feet. Even the gloomier gods of the Underworld drifted out to watch whatever madness we were committing.
"About this hot bath over here — what if we mounted a Cerberus-faced ornament on the wall? Three great heads with jaws wide open, water gushing out in torrents. Anyone who saw it would think of Lord Hades immediately."
"Oh, that's splendid! You there! Shades — go fashion what he just described, and be quick about it!"
"And I'd like to highlight your devotion as a husband. Since this is something to show off to the Twelve Olympians, Lady Demeter will come as well — so placing a statue of Lady Persephone nearby would serve as a quiet message that your daughter is well treated even in the Underworld. It might even help ease some of the old bitterness. Though perhaps I've meddled too deeply?"
"No — I'm grateful, so set your mind at ease. If that's the purpose, what about this spot for the statue? Personally, I rather like it here."
"Ah, an excellent choice. Guests will pass this way often, so the statue will be easy to see."
"Hahaha! I've still got an eye for these things!"
Hahaha, hahaha, haha…
Shoulders squared, each of us busy with our work — and the next time I came to my senses, I was sitting on Hades's shoulders like a child on a piggyback ride. I'd been stretching up on my toes, too short to see the upper construction properly, and he'd simply hoisted me onto his shoulders. We moved around like that, inspecting the progress together, and no one said a word of reproach. Only later did the blood drain from my face.
"And still no one scolds us."
"Lord Hades is a god. I'm a mortal."
"Haha. Such a stickler."
Hades had clearly opened his heart to me far more than was wise — treating me almost like a grandchild. His speech had loosened since our first meeting, and when I climbed down from his shoulders, his face wore the same pained look he'd had when speaking of the son he'd lost. I never should have brought up Zagreus that first day in the bath. That was my mistake.
"I hear you're leaving soon. One last meal, then?"
"You know full well that's impossible."
Eat the food of the Underworld and you become one of its residents — so I refused. But the expression on Hades's face in that moment was nothing like what the King of the Underworld ought to wear.
Tch…
In so many ways, he was a truly pitiable man.