Reverse And Begin

This piece, inspired by the nonlinear way The Last 5 Years was told, was written in 2022.

16 - Eurydice

He’s gone, and I may never see him again.

It could be worse. He could do something rash to join me here.

I can almost see it now. He’d take a knife to his heart because the physical pain of stabbing himself would be nothing compared to the pain of us being apart. Or maybe he’d walk into a herd of wild animals and be willingly trampled to death. 

Most likely, if he were to die soon, it would be because Zeus found out he knew how to get to the underworld and come back alive. Zeus couldn’t let him live with that kind of knowledge.

I feel a tear run down my cheek and lift my hand to brush it away. I shouldn’t be focusing on things that will only lead to more sorrow.

The undead around me lift their heads as a living being enters the field.

“Eurydice,” the voice says.

I glance up to see Persephone, queen of the underworld herself, standing before me.

“I’m sorry,” the goddess says. “You lost more than your life today, you’ve lost your companionship.”

I only nod; she has no idea what I’ve lost. What I may never be able to have again for the rest of my eternity.

2 - Orpheus

I strum another chord and wince.

I forgot to tune my lyre again. You would think in the world I live in, one where I’m surrounded by satyrs, centaurs, and nymphs, I should be able to have a lyre that doesn’t have such difficulty staying tuned.

No one seems to notice the sour chord I just struck. Instead, the square seems to have settled down. The people milling about the cobblestone paths have slowed their pacing to a simple stroll, the kids splashing in the fountain are now simply dropping leaves into the water, and even the people selling produce, jewelry, fresh-made tomato keftedes, oil, and fabrics have stopped their shouting.

I awkwardly cough, suddenly uncomfortable by the quieting of the square, and begin playing.

The song I had chosen has a slow and quiet beginning, and I had expected it to be lost to the constant droning of the people in the square. Instead, the melody is the only thing I hear.

I refuse to look up from my instrument as I add the lyrics to the tune and begin to lose myself in the song.

My father had taught me this song when I was younger, and at the time, I hadn’t thought anything about it. He knew a lot of songs (so much so that I sometimes wondered if he knew every song), and I assumed it was just a less common ballad. But as I got older, I realized the song never seemed to reappear the way other melodies did. To me, this was a song my father had created for me so I could introduce it to the world.

As the last echo of the final refrain dissipates, I finally look up.

Everyone in the square is watching me with looks of contentment, and a majority of them are applauding.

I can feel my cheeks heating up as I bow my head in acknowledgment of their appreciation.

The crowd, sensing my performance is done, all begin to continue about their day. All but one of them.

Sitting on the edge of the fountain’s basin is a girl around my age. She has dark, olive skin, dark hair, and hazel eyes that are watching me as a playful smile tugs at her lips.

My blush magnifies by a million as she stands and begins to make her way toward me.

“That was a beautiful song,” she says as she approaches me. “It’s rare to find a musician so obviously taken with their talent.”

“Thank you,” I smile, tucking my lyre into the crook of my arm.

She nods in response, reaching into the folds of her himation.

“Here,” she grabs one of my hands and drops something into it. 

I blink at her and open my palm. A drachma and four oboli sit in my hand.

“You deserve to be paid for the show you just played,” the girl continues. “Next time you play for the masses, make sure I’m there.”

She turns to leave, but my brain has finally comprehended what she said.

“How will I find  you without your name?” I ask.

She turns back towards me.

“Eurydice,” she says, giving me a bright smile.

“Orpheus,” I reply, returning her smile.

14 - Eurydice

He’s miles in front of me, but I can still see him.

“I know you can’t hear me,” I say, my voice nonexistent. “But I’m here, and I love you, and guess what?”

He doesn’t reply.

“When we get back, I’m going to start planting a new garden in honor of Persephone,” I continue. “Then we’ll be able to eat fresh fruits and vegetables every day. Won’t that be nice?”

Still no reply.

I continue walking, eyes trained on the back of his shirt.

What if he can never hear me again? I wonder. Or touch me? What if Hades only let me go because there was a catch… What if I’m like this forever? Cursed to be a vapor as repercussion for returning to the world…

When the journey began, I thought it would be easy. After all, I’d arrived in the underworld in a split second; how long could it possibly take for us to walk out?

Years.

If I weren’t already the remains of my soul, I’d probably be able to tell how long we’d been walking by how hungry I was. But spirits don’t feel things like hunger. We don’t feel much at all.

I’m half-convinced that the only reason I miss the world above is because I was taken from it so quickly. The ache in my heart for Orpheus is a result of the same effect.

“Please, believe in me,” I try to say aloud. “Believe in us, we can make it home. Believe in yourself. Just another few miles and we’ll be home.”

I put all my faith in those words, but I don’t know if I believe them.

4 - Orpheus

Our house is shabby, but at least we have a roof.

“Maybe we can hang a sheet over the cracks?” Eurydice suggests. “Or find some tar to fill it in? That way it’s less drafty when the wind blows.”

I nod. “It’s not a bad idea. If we can find a way to buy a sheet or tar…”
She nods, knowing we’re having trouble as it is.

Life isn’t all that luxurious when you’re living on the salary of a musician and a potter.

“You should try playing that song again,” Eurydice says suddenly. “The one you played when we first met.”

“I don’t know…” I shrug away her suggestion. “I don’t really like the attention singing in public brings; people already pay too much attention when I play…”

“That’s because you’re good at it,” my wife insists. “When you play, the world listens, so you might as well give them a song worth listening to. Then maybe we can afford some tar or a sheet.”

“Not many people pay to hear a poor man strum a lyre,” I say.

“They will after they’ve been captivated,” she waves her hand, swatting away my poor excuse. “Then they’ll need to pay you in order to find out when and where you’re playing your next show. With a large enough following, the emperor himself will pay to see you play.”

“How about we fill the cracks with mud for now?” I offer, avoiding the rest of the conversation.

Eurydice nods, clearly displeased with the change of subject.

11 - Orpheus

There’s no time to think; if I don’t act now, I know I’ll be too late.

I run into our crumbling shack of a house and scan the room. At first, I’m not sure what I’m looking for. Then I spot my lyre sitting on the floor.

I grab it and flee from the house, heading as fast as I can towards the fir tree forest at the edge of the city.

Tears blur the edge of my vision as I run deeper into the thicket of trees, but I blink them away. Eventually, my emotions overtake me, and I collapse onto the forest floor.

“What am I supposed to do now?” I cry to the heavens.

“Sing,” my father’s voice echoes in my head.

“When you play, the world listens,” Eurydice’s voice repeats my father’s sentiment.

I glance down at the lyre in my hands.

I’m not sure how it will help, but I know what I have to do.

I pluck out the opening notes to the song I played when I first met Eurydice. I have to play the entrance twice because I choke on my tears the first time through.

Eventually, the words come to me.

“When days reverse, we end up back where we begin

So when the story starts, we’re stuck at the end.

Keep going forward, or forever look back,

Remember me when things turn black.

Stay in the dark or come back to the sun,

Will you be waiting when the story’s done?”

I can feel the ground shake as I continue to sing, but I ignore it. Let the earth swallow me whole, I don’t care. Why stay above ground when the love of my life is dead?

I finish the song, feeling as if hours have passed as the last of my tears fall from my cheeks.

When I look up, I blink in surprise. There’s a tunnel in front of me, leading low into the ground.

It takes me a minute to decide if I’m going to venture into the ground, but after I realize I have no reason to stay above the ground, and mere seconds ago I was praying the ground would swallow me up. If this is a trick, so be it; I’ll walk in willingly; it will be my choice.

I stand, legs shaking from having been on the ground for so long, and make my way down the tunnel, having no idea what awaits me.

The tunnel is long and has a steep incline. At first, I’m afraid that it will be easy for me to trip, fall, and tumble down to the bottom of the pathway. To my surprise and delight, I adjust to the severe angle quickly.

I don’t know how long I walk. Could be hours, could be minutes. Either way, I’m surprised when I see light ahead of me.

6 - Eurydice

I’m still considering their offer when I arrive back home.

Orpheus isn’t here, which is good. It gives me time alone to think.

A breeze blows by, making its way through the cracks in the wall. When it reaches me, it cools my skin, making me cold. So cold that I could believe I’m already dead.

I might as well be. Some days I only get one meal, it just depends on how much money we made that day. On days like that, I go to bed feeling empty, like a hollowed-out vase. Empty, wishing to be filled with something to make my existence feel worthwhile.

I look down at my cracked, clay-covered hands. I can’t remember why I walked away from the nymphs’ offer.

Then I spot Orpheus’ lyre in its spot by the door and remember.

I stay for him. Despite the hunger, pain, and cold, I stay because I love him enough to brave those things.

At night, when the wind blows through the cracks and to our cot on the floor, he’ll wrap his arms around me and pull me close. In those moments, love fills my stomach, causing me to forget my hunger.

Both of us could be trying harder. I could try to stop complaining. I know the suggestions I give Orpheus about how we could improve our lives only hurt him. I’m not trying to remind him what I gave up to be here; I just want to make things better, so we’re happier.

Of course, he could try to sing more. I know he doesn’t believe it, but I believe emperors would pay to hear him play. But they’ll never know he exists until he puts himself out there.

I pick up the lyre and pluck at one of its chords.

The note comes out sweet, but it’s nowhere near as beautiful as when Orpheus plays it.

9 - Eurydice

Nymphs are the only beings that can truly show you how to dance.

The air, trees, and grass flow alongside them as they twirl and glide. The nymph who had earlier invited me to join them grabs my hands and leads me through their routine.

I sway and leap alongside these creatures who were born knowing this dance. I’d feel like one of them if it weren’t for the fact that I’m very obviously human. 

Compared to the airy way the nymphs levitate above the ground, I’m very aware of the way my feet tread on the grass and the way my arms cut through the air.

The nymphs don’t seem to care that I’m corporeal; in fact, they seem to be enjoying the change of pace I bring to their well-practiced ceremony. Instead of forcing me to match their pace, they slow so I can memorize the pattern of the dance, and when I mess up, they’re ready to catch me and lead me back into the rhythm of their movements.

I feel like I could stay here forever, feeling alive among the immortal. Any thought of hunger is lost among my frantic hurrying to keep up with the dance, and I can feel my body warming as it goes through the motions of the dance. For a moment, I almost believe I can stretch this moment out for the rest of my existence.

Then my foot catches on a rock.

I stumble and fall, face-first, into the grass. The nymphs scatter, frightened away by what I can only assume is my clumsiness.

I roll over and begin to stand. Then I see it.

A viper is sitting at my feet, watching me.

I freeze, too scared to move out of fear that it will strike.

I’m caught in a staring contest with the snake. It watches me, waiting for an excuse to strike, while I wait for it to either grow bored or decide to kill me.

I have no idea how long we’re caught in this loop of patience and cowardice, but eventually, it’s too long.

As carefully and slowly as I can, I draw my leg in towards me.

It’s all the serpent needs to take action.

Its fangs catch in my heel, releasing venom into my bloodstream. The snake releases its bite on my foot, but is clearly unsatisfied with its work as it decides to inject me a second time. I cry out for help, calling every name I can think of. The first name I call is Orpheus’s.

My vision blurs over as the poison overtakes my body. I can feel myself collapsing to the ground, but it feels like a dream.

And then I wake up.

I’m no longer in the clearing surrounded by fir trees. Instead, I’m in a room made of dirt.

“Another one?” a voice beside me sighs as if he’s frustrated by my sudden presence.

I turn. A man in an ebony toga stands behind me, an impossibly long length of paper in his hand.

“Name?” he asks, lazily glancing up at me.

“Eurydice,” I say. I’m wondering where I am, but I’ve been around enough people in places of power to know not to speak out of turn.

“Mhmm,” he nods. “Death by viper bite, yikes. That must have hurt.”

I nod numbly as his words set in. Death. I just died… I’m dead.

“Since your death was quick and mostly unplanned,” the man (“Thanatos,” a voice says in the back of my head) continues. “You’ll have a trial soon to see where you belong in the underworld. Until then, you’ll be sent to the Asphodel Meadows.”

8 - Orpheus

Eurydice is gone when I wake up.

I sit up and scan the room for her, but it’s obvious she’s not here.

Based on the lack of light, I guess that it’s early in the morning. Where could she have gone so early in the day?

I stand and search the room for some kind of clue that could point me to where she has gone, but nothing seems out of the ordinary. The small table we have is bare, and there’s nothing out of place among our few belongings that sit on the floor.

I can feel panic rising in my chest. Something’s wrong, I can feel it in my soul.

I’m snapped out of my stress by a knock on the door.

There’s a man on the other side of our threshold, holding out a piece of parchment for me to read.

“Letter for you,” he says.

“Who from?” I ask, grabbing the piece of paper from him

“A nymph,” the man shrugs. “She said it’s about your wife.”

I almost drop the letter.

“I think she’s in the clearing…” the man continues as I scan the nymph’s scratchy writing. “The nymph who summoned me said she was nearby.”

“Summoned you?” I frown.

“Yes,” the stranger nods. “Apparently, she thought this was a necessary enough moment to call for a messenger.”

“You’re Hermes!” I realize.

“Indeed,” the messenger laughs, pulling another piece of paper out of his toga and handing it to me. “Here, I have a feeling you’ll need this after you find your wife.”

Eurydice. I remember turning my head towards the line of trees in the distance.

“Thank you,” I say, racing towards the trees.

10 - Orpheus

“Relax, Orpheus,” I tell myself as I enter the thicket of trees. “You’ll find her.”
I scan the trees around me, wondering which way my wife could be.

There’s whispering to my left.

I turn to see a nymph watching me from behind a tree.

“Do you know where my–” my question is cut off as the nymph fades into the tree. 

“Right,” I nod to myself. “Nymphs don’t like showing themselves to men.”

A sprinkling of nettles falls on my head.

“Alright then,” I can feel my anxiety ramping back up.

I scan the area again, preparing to make my way to the left, and hope for the best when a small breeze whips around my head.

I frown. There wasn’t even the slightest trace of a breeze a second ago.

I run back to the left. The wind whizzes by my ears again.

I turn to the right, and the breeze stops.

“Thank you!” I say to the hiding nymphs as I make my way to the right.

I make my way forward until another forced breeze blows in my face, then I turn a bit to the left and continue.

Eventually, I can see the clearing up ahead.

“Eurydice?” I call, racing into the clearing.

That’s when I spot her, lying still in the grass.

“Eurydice!” I cry out, stumbling over my own feet as I race towards where she lies.

I collapse to my knees and try to shake her awake, but her eyes don’t open.

“Wake up, please wake up,” I mutter as the tears begin to stream down my face.

She doesn’t respond. Her eyes remain closed, her lungs still.

I stare at her resting figure for a minute before looking up at the sky.

“Why would you do this?” I shout. “Why would you take her from me? I have nothing now!”

“I have a feeling you’ll need this after you find your wife.” The piece of paper seems to burn through my himation.

I pull it out and read the ten words the note holds.

“You can save her; what you need is at home.”

7 - Eurydice

It’s all too much to bear.

The wind is coming in through the holes in the walls. The feeling of my stomach eating itself. It’s too much.

Orpheus is asleep beside me, but even the warmth from him isn’t enough to make me believe I’ll last the night.

I remember the nymph’s offer to come and join their dancing. They seemed so happy, so at peace… they seemed to be alive.

I sit up.

It couldn’t hurt to join them just this once. Just enough dancing to get my blood flowing so I’m warm enough to survive the night. Just enough to forget about my hunger.

I turn and smile at my husband’s sleeping form.

“I’ll be back,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I’m just going for a walk.”

I stand to leave but turn around. I don’t know why, but I got a weird feeling when I couldn’t see him.

I shake my head, clearing the ominous feeling from my body as I turn back around and open the door.

5 - Eurydice

Sometimes I like to use nettles from trees for my pottery. They’re good to use when I want to engrave thin lines or add textured patterns. I haven’t tried using those techniques in my pieces recently, but the last pieces I made that way sold, so it’s worth a try.

I scan the forest floor, looking for nettles that have sharp tips, aren’t broken in the middle, and aren’t covered in mud, when I suddenly hear something.

A bubbly, almost giggle-like noise breaks out in the clearing nearby. I’m curious, so I make my way towards the joyous noises.

I see movement up ahead and freeze. Nymphs, seven if I’m counting correctly, are dancing in the clearing, giggling as they make their way through a purposeful routine.

One of the nymphs spots me and stops her dancing.

She waves a hand at me, gesturing for me to come and join them.

“I can't, I'm working,” I say out loud.

The nymph shakes her head at my excuse and points upwards at the sun. Then she makes a circle with her hands above her head before bringing her arms forward. Once the circle lies parallel with the ground, she lets her hands drop and motions towards her friends, who are still dancing.

I nod. They’ll still be dancing when the sun goes down, and I’m welcome to join them.

I turn around and make my way back to where there are more nettles, not yet desperate enough to tempt the fates with carefreeness.

12 - Orpheus

The tunnel lets out into a throne room. Luckily for me, there are only two people in the room who have probably been waiting for my arrival since my singing created the tunnel. Unfortunately, the two people are Hades, king of the underworld, and his wife, Persephone.

They don’t say anything as I enter the room; they just watch me, waiting for me to explain what I’m doing here.

“I’m here for Eurydice,” I say boldly. So boldly, I expect to be struck down for being so brash.

“Well… This is a first,” Hades says, his voice a deep growl that echoes throughout the room.

“How did you make it to the underworld alive?” his queen asks me. “You’re mortal and clearly not dead.”

“I don’t know how I did it, but I know why I am here,” I say honestly.

“Yes, to bring your wife back to the surface,” Hades nods. “Unfortunately, that’s not something I can do.”

“Why not?” I’m practically shouting, but I don’t care.

“Because if one person comes out alive, then everyone will be coming down here begging me to release their loved ones,” Hades explains calmly, not at all affected by my outburst. “I can’t have my throne room flooded by those in denial about their grief. I have a job to do.”

“But wouldn’t it make you seem more generous if you let one of the dead come back?” I argue. “Especially if one of them was wrongfully slain in the first place?”

“Not if it makes my job more difficult.” The king replied. “If they know she was dead, they’ll just want one of their loved ones back. The floodgates will be opened and, no pun intended, my life will be a living hell. I’m sorry, your wife will have to stay here, no matter how much you love her.”

3 - Eurydice

The sky’s clear. I’m going to be optimistic and take that as a sign that the wedding will be blessed.

The wedding party is standing at the edge of the city. It’s a small assembly, but it’s enough.

According to custom, we have a sacrifice to make first. The whole thing makes me squeamish, but with Orpheus standing beside me, I think I can make it through. We’ll be together, and that’s all that matters.

13 - Orpheus

“What if no one knows she’s dead?” I ask.

Hades frowns at my question.

“I mean, she died in the forest,” I continue. “No mortals know she’s dead yet. The only beings who know are the nymphs of the forest and Hermes.”

“She could go back without any mortal being the wiser,” Persephone realizes.

“Exactly!” I nod. “No one would question your judgment or think of you as weak to my pleas because they’ll never know I was here to fetch her back.”

Hades doesn’t respond, only watches me, eyes boring into my soul as he gauges if my idea is irrational or possible.

“Even if the idea is plausible,” he eventually says. “It would need to involve a test. Even if no mortal knows of your wife’s death, at least four immortals do. And, though I trust myself and my wife, I cannot trust Hermes and Thanatos not to tell Zeus that I let one of the dead return to earth.”

“Then test me,” I shrug.

Hades turns to his queen.

“Grab the wife,” he tells her. “I have an idea.”

Persephone vanishes from the throne room with a slight glimmer.

“You and your wife will be allowed to walk back to the surface using the tunnel you created,” Hades says, pointing back towards the hole in the ground. “However, you will walk first, and she will walk a ways behind you, and you are not allowed to turn around and check to see if she’s following. If your faith in your spouse holds up, you’ll both emerge out of the tunnel and get back to your normal lives.”

Persephone reappeared with a vapor version of Eurydice.

“You can start your journey,” Hades dismisses me. “Eurydice will follow after I explain the test to her.”

I look at Eurydice, who’s watching me. She gives me a slow nod, silently telling me to listen to him.

I return the nod, turn around, and begin my journey to the surface.

1 - Eurydice

There’s a musician standing at the edge of the square, fiddling with his lyre. Every so often, he’ll glance up nervously at the crowd as if he doesn’t like how many people will be listening to his music in a public space.

He plucks a chord and grimaces. Maybe the note wasn’t as perfect as he’d have liked, but to me, it sounded beautiful.

He glances up at the people around him again, coughs, and begins playing a song.

Silence settles over the crowd as the song washes over us. It’s beautiful and mesmerizing, I feel more captivated than I’ve ever felt before, more focused than I am when I craft a vase. I don’t want the song to end.

I study the singer as he adds lyrics to the tune. He’s completely absorbed in the song he’s singing, hands moving seamlessly over the chords as he mindlessly sings alongside the notes. He must have known this song for a long while, because he seems comfortable, at home even, in the story his song tells.

Before he even starts the last chorus, I’ve decided I have to talk to him. I pat the folds of my himation where the remains of the commission I made on my last vase sit, forming a plan in my head.

15 - Orpheus

What if she’s not even behind me? What if Hades was just trying to get me to leave? What if he sealed both ends of the tunnel, and I’m trapped in an endless cycle of walking, never able to look back out of fear that I was almost there?

I’ve been walking for years, as far as I can tell. Even if that’s inaccurate, I’ve been walking longer than it took me to get down here.

This isn’t a test, I suddenly realize, it’s a trap.

I stop dead in my tracks, studying the path in front of me. There’s no light, no sign that there’s a way out of this loop I’m caught in.

The only other way out is behind me, back to the underworld.

I turn around to make my way back to the throne room, only to lock eyes with Eurydice.

“It wasn’t a trap,” I say, a tear falling down my cheek as she begins to fade from my view.

I love you, she mouths, disappearing for forever.