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"Eurydice?"
"Here, my love."
Orpheus breathed in, deep and steady. He pushed his mind away from the thousand worries that plagued it, away from recounting to himself again and again every single word Hades had spoken to him, and focused instead on the road. His feet moving forward. The pockets of light provided by the row of street lamps he passed by. There was his shadow, pursuing him through it all, growing longer and longer as the sun sank deeper in the sky. There was his shadow. But, where-?
"Eurydice?"
"Here, my love."
Orpheus smiled. There was a sharpness to that "here" that time, and a playful lilt at the end. He'd once thought his love had endless patience, that without it she would never have been able to love him. With all of his ramblings and late nights replaying the same cords on his lyre until they began to sound right, for they never sounded right the first time. Not until he was forced to his knees before the king and given his last command did his song ever sound right, and even now he couldn't stop wondering how it had been enough.
He retraced his thought back to where it began - he had once thought Eurydice's patience was endless.
He didn't anymore.
But, did that mean she didn't love him? No. She'd promised him. She'd promised-
"Eurydice?"
"Here, my love. Orpheus? I'm right here."
Another promise. Orpheus breathed again, in and out, though he found he could no longer make the breaths steady and slow. It had been a long journey, after all, and his legs and heart were telling him that his destination would soon be in sight, and this all will have been worth it. They'd be home again, home at last. But, this time, things would be different.
Yes, this time the two of them would face each obstacle together. Survive together. This time, he would hear her when she called, and when he didn't, she would trust that he had tried. This time, the only thing that would tear them apart would be the gentle hands of time.
Change. Wasn't that what he'd wanted all along? He'd written his song to change the world, or really to call back to an echo, a small tangible fragment of what once was, and what could be. He'd written his song so that his love would have a future, so that she would one day spend long months beside him under the sun. And, in focusing on it so, he'd pushed her away. He'd broken her trust like he'd break a faithful string of his lyre, finally played one too many times.
Had that song been enough? Had his words been enough? Had their promises been enough? Had he been enough?
"Eurydice?"
He could hear the shakiness in his own voice. He wished he could hear Eurydice's footsteps falling behind him, wished he could reach back and feel her hand upon his, but the king had made it so that the only reassurance he could have would be from his own heart. Perhaps because he knew it was a fragile little thing. The heart of a poet, as he'd called him, whose job it was to break, so that he could make more beautiful art. He had only his heart, and her words.
"Here, my love. Hold on."
Tears fell from Orpheus's eyes just as soon as they'd formed. She loved him, or she wouldn't speak with such tenderness and care. He loved her, or they wouldn't be walking down this path at all. Through his tears, he made one final effort to move his thoughts away from where they lingered now.
He sang his song. Not the words he'd painstakingly written but the melody he'd held in his heart for all those years. His voice caught and he paused to swallow back the lump in his throat. He started again, but rather than look forward to his destination he found the ground again. Beside the old, broken road he walked upon - they walked upon... there was the frost-bitten grass. He sang his song to the earth, but nothing came of it. No flowers sprouted, no frost melted away. The magic of the song that had once won the heart of Eurydice was gone.
Who was he without that song? Who was he to her without that song? Would she be glad they were rid of it, when it had caused both of them so much pain?
Was there ever magic in that song to begin with?
"Eurydice?"
"Here, my love. We're almost there."
Orpheus fell silent. She was right. Hades had promised them they would both be free if they could reach the gate under his conditions, and that gate was now in sight. For a moment, the fog surrounding him cleared. He had so little left to go. He had done it. They had done it.
One aching foot in front of the other. If he wanted to, he could even count the number of steps they had left to walk.
His lyre hung heavy on his shoulder. In the fresh darkness of the night left by the absent sun he could see the frost that remained on the grass beside him. There it was, just beyond the reach of the streetlights, just over his shoulder. He wondered if she could see it, too.
"Orpheus?"