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Virgil felt the grasping hands of Hell tighten around him one final time, give a mighty heave, and yanked him back down into Limbo. He had known when he had agreed to act as Dante’s guide that leaving Eden would hurt.
Still, thought Virgil, I thought Paradise was a place, not a person.
Even though the poet knew that his love was impossible and forbidden, he still could not help questioning what would have happened if he had had the chance to confess his feelings. To be dragged away from his beloved without even having time to say goodbye was the cruellest thing that he had ever witnessed in his long afterlife.
God, I’m starting to sympathise with Dido...that can’t be a good sign, he thought ruefully.
Dante’s soul shone brighter than any other Virgil had ever seen. That was what had brought on the first stirring of love in his heart. Virgil had often been described as Pure Reason, but he would give up that title in a heartbeat in order to be united with the shimmering, golden luminosity that was Dante Alighierti’s pure and steadfast soul.
I need some music, something that really connects to the passionate pain I’m in right now. I need Evanescence.
Vigil had never been as happy about Hell existing outside of time (allowing him to listen to music from all possible epochs) as he was when he was the day he discovered emo bands.
And to think, I used to think Homer was the model for all great art , he scoffed at his naive former self as he screamed along to the chorus of “Bring Me To Life”. However, even the beauty of early 2000’s scene music couldn’t hold a candle to his Dante. If only he had had a little more time, he could have been content.
Suddenly, he heard a gasp behind him, and there, standing not twenty feet away was... Dante. Virgil ran to the Florentine and cradled the smaller man in his arms like he had so long ago while they had been walking through Hell together. But wait, what was Dante doing here, he could not possibly be in Limbo. Even if he committed a sin grave enough for him to be damned (which Virgil doubted would ever happen) Limbo was a place for the non-believers, whereas Dante had seen the face of God Himself.
Virgil looked in awe and wonderment at the man in his arms, but just as he was about to ask his question, Dante cut him off with the answer.
“I realised that I couldn’t go back: the mortal realm has held no joy for me since I was banished from my beloved city, and since the death of Beatrice.” At the sound of her name, Virgil felt his face curl into a jealous sneer. Seeing it, Dante’s face softened and he began to laugh. “Don’t look so upset, Virgil, I chose your company over her’s. All those years spent pining over her, but then I finally met her and found all she ever did was sign and smile.” Virgil glowed at his words, but then it sunk in...
“Dante, what do you mean you chose to be here? Please don’t tell me you picked Limbo over Paradise. You know as well as I that the Elysium fields aren’t what they’re made out to be.”
Dante laughed and shook his head, “No, you see after meeting God, my body was destroyed by His awesome presence. I was given the choice to stay at his feet, or to come back down and lead YOU up to Paradise.
“ I finally realised that this has been a test for you as much as it was for me, and now you are being given the opportunity of an eternity. Let me lead you Up, Virgil, and we can share in Paradise things we could have never even dreamt possible while in Hell.”
Virgil was stunned; he had never before heard of someone changing places once they had either been damned or redeemed. It was everything he had wanted since he had died and had learned the true nature of God and the Universe. However, the question remained: why him?
Dante shook his head again, and Virgil realised that he had accidentally spoken aloud. (Dante’s return from paradise had left the poet flustered, since it was so clear that the student had surpassed his master).
“I plead your case before my Intercessors, and they took pity on you...” Dante trailed off upon seeing the confused look on Virgil’s face. He had deduced that Dante had been the one to raise him from Perdition, but his question was why Dante would help him, not why would God help him.
Dante stared into Virgil’s eyes and understood the unspoken question that lay behind those shining eyes. “O! you fool,” he said to the man in whose embrace he’d found serenity, “I’ll lead you for the same reason you lead me; because I love you.”
With that Dante leaned up and kissed the poet, gently pushing his lips against the mouth that had sung of men and arms. Slowly the kiss deepened, and all things beyond the two of them fell away. Virgil shifted Dante in his arms so that the Florentine could wrap his legs around the poet’s waist. Gently, softly, ever so carefully, Virgil lay Dante on his back; and they talked no more that night.