The Gates of Horn and Ivory - Chapter 8.1 The Blessed Isles

Persephone stood tall on the bow of the ship, against the breeze. 

Behind her, the fortune’s chosen, the ones who managed to navigate its treacherous waters through three lifetimes in a row, without reproach, were gazing towards the islands in the distance with apprehension and awe, not yet able to believe their luck, eyes moist for what they left behind. 

Lost for words, they feared the promise of this new and wonderful existence was just a mirage which would dissipate the second they stopped believing it.

Hades stood next to his wife, like a symbolic shelter against the winds.

He always attended these happy occasions when mortals earned themselves the right to perpetual bliss.

Also, he loved the Fortunate Isles, which he rarely found the time to visit, with his schedule as full as it always was, and besides, he had promised Persephone.

The islands were two, so close to each other one could think them a single land mass. They weren’t that far from the shore, but a whole world removed in terms of privilege and grace, even compared to the Elysian Fields.

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