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There are arrows that seem like they keep leading me through a maze until I see the entrance to the exhibit. It’s like walking into another world. The place is dark, almost pitch black except for candles flickering on the walls setting the mood.
I try to look at the pamphlet, but it’s so dark that it’s pointless. I shove it in my pocket and look around for a direction. A group comes through the entrance with a guide. I sneak into the back and listen to what he’s saying.
“...know the story of Tartarus?” The guide asks. There is a murmur between the group before someone gets the courage to speak.
“The king banned the Titans there,” says the genius in the front. Based on the look that crosses the guide's face it wasn’t the answer he was looking for.
“Yes, but does anyone know the lore before that?”
No one responds. At least I’m not totally ignorant.
“No one? Alright. Well, our myths state that at the Beginning, there was nothing, then came Chaos. She created the primordial gods which led to the Titans and then the Olympian gods, like our dear king Hades.”
I almost snort out loud. Dear king? Try an oppressive piece of shit who sits in his gold little palace all comfortable while the rest of us suffer. He drove my people away and burned them alive for being different and thinking differently. Dear king? What a fucking joke.
So far it seems like we’re all hanging onto the story.
“We’re going to rewind a little bit to the time of the primordial gods.” He pauses.
The Primordials were made up of Erebus, Nyx, and Gaia. I know a little about them, but my people don’t much care for beings that came from Olympus; the world that used to be connected to ours. In all honesty, I’ve only heard of Olympus in passing. It hardly seems relevant. The gates of the Underworld have been closed ever since Hades came here.
The Primordial gods are the first generation of beings after Chaos. Erebus was the god of shadows; Nyx was the goddess of darkness; and Gaia was the goddess of the earth. If they ever existed, they’re long gone. They probably left our Universe for a better one.
“Now, I want to preface this by letting you all know that while these are all real and genuine artifacts, there is a lot of skepticism and differing opinions between scholars about their origination and meanings,” the guide continues.
“Once upon a time,” he says quietly with a theatrical effort. “There were monsters. This time period coexists with the creation of the Primordials, and we now refer to it as the Tartarian period. We will revisit why we call it this later.”
Monsters? That’s something I’m familiar with, except he’s calling the age of Mondurians by the name of Tartarian. I roll my eyes in disgust. I guess Hades’ Underworld will do its best to rewrite our history.
Kate was obsessed with the Mondurians since it’s alleged that Rems are their descendants. She made me learn their language and read their books. The stories are brutal and fantastical. They knew how to entertain themselves, albeit gruesomely, but I always enjoyed it. Most Rems know a few Mondurian words here and there, mostly curses, and we know the gist of the stories. They’re unbelievable tales sometimes told by an elder around the fires at solstice.
This must be why Stafford sent me here.
“During this period the Primordials, like Nyx, bestowed gifts upon Tartarians. From our findings, this is when the first oracle was born alongside the Fates and many others, including the Furies. We have also found evidence that other creatures may have existed, although we don’t have a clear picture of what their purpose or role in civilization was.”
Murmurs break out amongst the group of people in front of me.
“I know. I know. This is a time where most legends and lore originate. If you’ll follow me, we’ll go to the first item on our journey. The tears of a unicorn.”
We walk up to an exhibit with a small vial full of water. Are we really supposed to believe something so mundane would have made it all these years? The guide gives some sort of explanation that I can’t hear through my own comments, which I manage to keep inside my head instead of on my tongue. People ooh and ahh at the vial. Our tour continues on like that around the front of the massive hall.
“Now we will visit the first known drawings of monsters,” the guide says excitedly.
He leads us to a side room with several detailed paintings of vicious creatures. They span from morphed animals, like something with a human head, wings, and a lion’s body, to men with the heads of bulls that look like they were transplanted onto a human body. They’re pretty decent for what I assume wasn’t a developed time. Maybe someone drew them up to add something of interest to the myths.
Hordes of people seem to have gathered around a particular picture, but the crowd is so dense I can’t slip through. I make another lap, waiting for it to dissipate. The group seems to be hanging around waiting for an explanation, so I sneak up behind them again as the guide clears his throat.
“This one is my favorite,” a velvet voice whispers in my ear.
I whip around. Sure enough, Aedon stands there in all his handsome glory. In the lighting he appears menacing, a monster in disguise. He doesn’t look at me, but at the drawing. He’s so tall he can see over the group.
“This is what we refer to as ‘The Leviathan’ due to a faded bit of writing on the back of the papyrus,” the guide loudly whispers. “Like most of these depictions, we don’t have much to go on, but it is the only surviving piece that has multiple subjects. Unsettling, right? Many believe this is a sketch of Nyx and Erebus at the entrance of Tartarus, but some evidence suggests that Tartarus did not exist at this time.”
He looks over at the art longingly. “When this piece was discovered, rumor has it that it was also uncovered with a tablet and a dagger. If the other pieces truly existed, they’ve been lost, but we still have this powerful work of art. Now let’s move on to our next artifact, the hammer of the cyclops.” The guide gives the drawing one last reverent look and moves on.
The group filters out and I make my way up to the portrait. I’m acutely aware of Aedon at my back.
The papyrus looks like it has been drawn with charcoal, smeared in a purposeful way in some places. The background is dark, blending into a void. In the forefront, hazy and undefined, are two figures. From what I can tell, they look like regular beings. But their most prominent feature is what makes them unsettling; black eyes stare out at me.
