I awoke to a world cloaked in shadows, the smells and sounds blurring into each other. I was no longer in the familiar warmth of my family’s hearth, surrounded by the comforting scents of home. Instead, I found myself at a dimly lit crossroads in the middle of an ancient grove, bathed in the pale light of a crescent moon. At least I was no longer in pain.
As soon as the thought crossed my mind though, my chest began to throb. It was as if remembering the pain was enough to summon it. The sensations of every kick I had received last night resurfaced tenfold. Confusion and fear gripped me as I tried to make sense of my surroundings. I tried to stand but could only manage to roll from my side to my belly. My paws felt cold against the hard, uneven stones of the road beneath me, and I was starting to make out the smell of herbs and incense in the air. My heart raced and I let out a low, uncertain whine.
My person, Helene, came near. I would recognize her scent anywhere, but she did not come into view. She was crying and she smelled afraid, as she had the night before. I needed to protect her, to go and comfort her, but I could not convince my body to stand up. Maybe I could at least look at her. Straining to lift my head caused immense pain, but I pushed through to turn in her direction.
My eyes were adjusting to the dim light and I saw flickering shapes and figures moving in the darkness. They were women, dressed in dark flowing robes, their faces hidden by shadows and veils—but I still recognized which one was my human. I would always recognize her. She was my favorite person in the entire world.
There was a soft murmur of the women’s voices, quietly chanting. I couldn’t understand the words, though I prided myself in knowing many, but the rhythmic cadence of their voices filled the grove with an eerie energy, and I felt a shiver run down my spine.
My ears felt pressure, like before a storm, and then the smell of the place changed. There was a person behind me that wasn’t there before. Straining, I turned my head again and saw her, the figure at the center of this mysterious ritual. She was a woman, but she was not human. Young and old at the same time, her aura was unlike anything I had ever encountered. Her eyes were dark and penetrating, and they saw into the very depths of my soul. She held a staff adorned with writing that cast an otherworldly glow in every direction. I instinctively knew that she was a powerful and ancient deity; a force beyond my comprehension.
Hecate.
Her presence filled me with a strange mixture of fear and awe, and I couldn’t tear my gaze away. I recognized her, despite never having met her before. We were bonded in some way, her and I.
As the chanting of the women grew louder and more intense, I started to suspect the purpose of this strange gathering at this even stranger location. The pieces all fit together. I had been brought here as an offering, a sacrifice, to Hecate. The realization sunk into my bones, filling me with a deep sense of sadness. I was no human; I would have no choice but to accept the fate that was chosen for me. Especially after my actions the night before. What I had done was unforgivable.
Hecate raised her staff high above her head and my human’s footsteps approached me from behind. She gently cradled my bruised and broken body as tears slid down her face, just as she had last night when I had first been injured. Even now, knowing that I was about to die, that my actions had caused this, I still would’ve made the same decisions. I would give anything to protect her, even my very life.
The roads surged and crackled with power and the sheer amount of energy caused my heart to pound in my chest. My human lifted my body towards her. I closed my eyes and braced myself for what was to come. In that moment, I felt connected both to the ancient rituals of my species and to the power and mystery of Hecate herself. As the energy enveloped me, I surrendered to it, trusting that whatever awaited me on the other side would be part of a greater plan, a cosmic dance beyond my understanding. My human would always make the right decision for me.
“Aello, I release you,” Helene whispered.
Although I felt a knife slip into me, it did not hurt. Nothing hurt any longer. As the world around me faded into darkness, I sent a silent prayer out to the universe. Not for myself, but for my human who still held my body, who would continue to hold my body until no traces of life remained. May she be comforted and protected by my memory, even when I could not be with her.
My soul left my body, and I followed Hecate away.
We walk through a lifetime. With each step we take, we traverse further into the ethereal plane, venturing into realms hidden from mortal eyes—previously hidden from my own eyes. Hecate’s magic weaves through the night, and I am steadfastly by her side, observing the threads of her power.
Finally, we arrive at a sanctuary and enter a small cottage, barely more than a hut, in the Underworld. Hecate stands before her Cauldron, a vessel of infinite knowledge and transformation. I watch as she stirs the contents with her still-glowing staff, gazing into its depths with eyes that hold the secrets of the universe. I know that the Cauldron shows truths to her, and that she imparts its revelations to those who dare to seek them.
With one finger she beckons me, and I come obediently to her side. She motions to the Cauldron. I push down fear as I lean in to sniff the contents, hot and acrid.
As the steam rises, the walls around me disappear. I’m transported back to the last night of my life; the scenes flashing rapid succession. Sitting with my family, the crash of the door, herding the children into their room, coming back out to see the male human holding his mate by her hair. He reeks of alcohol and she smells of fear. She cries out and without thinking I lunge to protect her, sinking my teeth into one member of my family in order to protect the rest. This should be an impossible choice, but instead it is one I do not hesitate to make. I cannot watch as he hurts her again, and this time he has forgotten to lock me up. The blood drips from his thigh where I have him and streams down my jaw. I release to bite again, only to feel pain as the first kick breaks my ribs. I know there will be many more to follow, but I am ready to fight back with everything that I have.
“Enough.”
It is the first time I have heard Hecate speak, and the word pulls me from the life-like vision. I stumble dizzily as the walls of the hut return and a low growl escapes my throat at this unpleasant experience. The reminder of my mistake, the error that ultimately led to my death, to my human’s need to be rid of me, is too difficult to bear. My ears droop and I lower my head, ashamed.
But Hecate places a hand under my chin and gently lifts my gaze to hers. She has taken the form of the Crone, wisdom etched in the lines of her face. She speaks, and while I do not understand the words, the meaning of them is clear to me.
“You did not make a mistake. You saved your family from a wound that would have festered and eventually destroyed them all. You made the ultimate sacrifice and saved that family, without a single thought spared for your own well-being.”
Her eyes are kind, but I still whine and look away. Why had I been killed, if not as punishment?
“My fierce little warrior, that was no punishment. Your wounds were too great to possibly heal from. Instead of leaving you in your pain, your devoted guardian made the difficult decision to send you to the afterlife with me. Such selfless sacrifices, from both of you, can only be rewarded.”
I look up at her. I had done the right thing. My family would continue to be safe. My favorite human still loved me. I was a good dog?
“You are the best dog, Aello.”
My tail rises and whips through the air, moving of its own accord. Hecate looks down at me, a slight smile on her face.
“I could use a new familiar. Someone to help me protect those in need. Would you be interested in the role?”
Yes! I bark and jump in a circle, full of joy that I had done a good thing and now will continue my work. When I look back at Hecate, she is in her youthful Maiden aspect and her laughter echoes through the cottage.
We run through the meadows of the Underworld, chasing each other as the asphodels are trampled beneath our feet, until we reach the Borderlands between life and death.
Hecate’s visage changes to that of the nurturing Mother and with a sweep of her arms, torches are lit along a path.
We roam the Borderlands, searching for departed spirits finding their way to the afterlife. I sniff out the souls and she bestows comfort and guidance while leading them down her torch-lit path, ensuring they do not become lost or trapped in the Mortal Realm.
As time progresses, there are fewer and fewer souls, until I cannot find even one more. I zoom back and forth along the path, proud of the work we’ve finished, but Hecate does not look joyful. Instead, her face is filled with concern.
We walk through the Borderlands, back to the Mortal Realm, and arrive at a crossroads. Here, Hecate pauses. Conjuring a pendulum, she closes her eyes and murmurs as it swings ever faster in circles. The air whips around the goddess, trails of wind moving in opposite directions and distorting her while her features age and de-age in rapid succession until there are three of her, a face pointing in every direction except the one from which we came.
Phantoms of the triple goddess flow out with a whoosh, following the road in every direction and taking the wind with them. They move faster than the blink of an eye. Five more seconds pass as the pendulum continues to whir. Ten. And then all is still. Even the dust settles, and the crickets cease their chirps.
Hecate’s eyes snap open and movement returns. The pendulum pulls to the right, and this is the direction we take.
Despite my speed as I run, I struggle to keep up with Hecate. Her steps float along the road, carrying her faster than any mortal could hope to travel. She is angry—I can hear it in her steps, see it on her face, and smell it in the air around her. But at what?
As we walk, phantom spirits continuously break off from her and head out in different directions. I want to follow them, but know that I am needed by her side.
“For my witches,” she tells me, and a vision fills my head. Hecate’s presence stands over a woman praying before a black candle. The woman looks up, through Hecate, with tears in her eyes and a whispered ‘thank you’ before the vision clears again. Each piece of Hecate that leaves is one being summoned by her followers, she gives of herself as she is requested to, in order to impart wisdom, grant visions, and protect those most devout from harm. The human I used to have had belonged to Hecate as well. In this, our goals have always been the same.
As we walk, the road grows familiar. I remember the path and the trees that grow; I have walked this road many times before. But there are small differences. I do not recognize the children who play along the path and there are new houses that were not here before. Even the road itself is wider and more packed than I remember, as if time has worn it down. It is still recognizable though, like an old friend. I am almost home.
Hecate stops in front of my old house, where I spent my entire life, but it too has changed. All of the life has been sucked dry from the place. The children no longer play in the yard and the garden that was once so vibrant is now choked out by dried up weeds. The roof grows mold and the paint is chipping off of the door. The building sags. Even the very air around the place has grown stale and cloying. This is not the happy home filled with love that it once was, but instead a dying place. What has gone wrong?
I walk up to the threshold, hoping to check on my family, but I cannot enter. Something unseen is barring the way. I turn to Hecate, who is staring up at the house in concern. Is she afraid? I didn’t know a being such as Hecate could be afraid.
I whine and Hecate looks down at me. I thought I had rid the family of its disease when I killed the male human. She shakes her head, her look faraway.
“Helene has stopped praying. We cannot enter. I have no power here.”
As Hecate’s familiar, I don’t have power either. At least not over the darkness that surrounds the place. But this was once my home and I spent an entire lifetime guarding and protecting it. The home will remember me.
I walk around and sniff out my human, going to the window by her room, and look in.
She is on her bed, eyes closed, breaths shallow. She is sick. Her hair has greyed and there are new lines around her eyes that weren’t there before. She is thin, too thin, and frail. I jump up and put my paws on the window, something that was never allowed when I was alive, but she either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. I bark, loudly, and scratch at the glass, but my paws don’t make a sound. I am no longer of the Mortal Realm.
Still, my human seems to notice something. She finally stirs and looks behind her, towards the window. I wag my tail and look right at her, but she sees through me. I bark again, encouraging her to open the window, to let me in, but she is slow. She has aged so much and it takes her a long time to reach a sitting position. When she does, she makes to stand, but halts and her eyes close. There is a cry from inside of the house.
“Mom!” a child calls out. “Mom, help!”
It sounds similar to the children who used to live here, but distorted. But it is definitely not one of them and the similarity makes it sound even more wrong. My human, instead of getting up to help, freezes. Her eyes are haunted and she continues to stare through me. She makes no further moves to open the window.
“Mom!” the eerie child’s voice repeats. “Mom, he’s going to hurt me!”
She still does not move, just squeezes her eyes shut tight as tears fall down her face. She covers her ears and curls into herself. I whine, wanting to help, but she doesn’t notice me at all.
Walking around the house, I go to investigate, but I see nobody in the garden, nobody in the yard. Hecate is still in front, but I don’t return to her. Instead, I walk towards the window of the nursery. It is slightly ajar; not enough for me to slip through, but I walk to it anyway, hoping I can push it open. All of the children used to sleep here together, but there are no signs of them any longer. Instead, like so much of the house, it has grown old and musty. I breathe deeply, but there is nothing familiar. Gone are the scents of grass-stained clothing, the sticky honey that clung to their hands, and the soap that they were forced to endure. Everything has faded.
It is then that I notice the translucent black tendrils of wisp wending their way up from the floor. My hackles raise, I bare my teeth, and a low growl starts in the back of my throat. The human that I had killed is here, I can feel it. He is the cause of this.
Hecate comes around to the window and takes in the scene. She closes her eyes and begins to chant, and the soul slowly fades into view. Death has worsened him. Souls are not meant to stay in the Mortal Realm, and he has had to fight and lose what little humanity he had left in order to do so. He reeks of rot, like a body left to bloat in the sun. His face that had always been pinched with cruelty now displays nothing but malice. The black wisp trails around him and leeches into the sides of the house. Decay follows him where he goes as he takes a step towards us.
I crouch, ready for whatever will happen next. The soul sees this, but he pays me no heed and instead cries out again, in the small child’s voice.
“Mother, why won’t you help me?”
My human cries out in anguish from the other room, loudly enough that I can hear it from here, outside of the house. It is heart wrenching. The soul’s only response is to smile. This is the reaction that he has desired.
Hecate has stopped her chanting, and she looks at me.
“I cannot go inside, but you can still enter your old home. I need this soul brought to Hades. Will you help?”
Not a command, but a request. I consider. This is the house where I lived, and it is the house where I died. Although years have clearly passed in the Mortal Realm, it feels like only yesterday to me. The soul inside is still the man who hurt me. He wounded me beyond the human’s ability to heal and brought my death. The hairs on the back of my neck prick up and I sink to the ground, my tail down. I do not want to face him again.
“I have Aello,” the soul taunts, his voice now deep and gravelly. “Are you going to help him?”
“Aello is dead! And you’re not real!” my human screams from the other room. She needs help. She needs me. Fighting the urge to stay low to the ground, I jump up and push my nose into the grimy window, wedging it open. I have to save her. Besides, I am already dead. What else do I have to lose?
The soul is facing the door to the nursery, away from me, and I pad quietly towards him, sneaking behind the dilapidated furniture strewn about the room. It is almost too easy, sneaking up, until I go to bite and drag him back with me. The black tendrils curl around me and I realize my mistake. He was only waiting for me to get close enough. The smoke rises and solidifies into ropes that wrap around me. They hold me up, floating in the middle of the room, and constrict against me, trapping my limbs, my head, my tail. Struggling, I whimper as the ropes compress and dig, squeezing me.
Is it possible for a soul to die again? What would happen to me if I did? Will I cease to exist?
The door pounds open and the old woman screeches in fury as she barrels in. She is fear and she is anger and there is no room for anything else inside of her.
“You! Are! Not! Real!” She punches the air with each word, all sense gone as she cries out through tears, her voice raw. She has been tormented for too long.
The soul is pleased; he wanted her to come close as well. Everything he does is a manipulation, everything is a trap. More tendrils swirl around my human, but they cannot hold her as they do me. She is too physical, too alive. More and more of the soul’s power goes to her, trying to enter her through any means that it can. He is devouring her from the inside out, stealing the life from her like he has stolen all of the life from around this home.
With his attention elsewhere, the bindings around me loosen. Just a little bit, but it is enough. I am lithe and I am quick. Waiting until just the right moment, when he comes close to me and the ropes are loose enough, I pounce. I catch his leg in my mouth and shake it violently before dragging the soul to the window. He struggles, but cannot break free. I hold on, but cannot get back out through the window while he is struggling. We are at an impasse.
“Please, gods, let this torment end.” My poor human has sunk to the ground, defeated, and she is overcome with sobs after the quick prayer.
“As you wish,” Hecate says, her eyes alight, before stepping through the wall and into the house.
The soul, still in my grasp, trembles before beginning to struggle with everything he has, uncaring if his leg is snapped off in his bid for freedom. He is afraid of her. Good.
“You have tormented this family long enough, soul. It is time to go to Hades, where I will mete out your punishment. Believe my words when I say that I will relish this act.”
Hecate chants and the black tendrils of smoke that surround the soul begin to dissipate. Her own magic circles out to encompass him, and I let go. Even as strong as this soul has become, with all of the life that he has stolen, he will be no match for a deity.
But this, too, is a trap. As soon as I let go, he reaches out with all of his might towards Helene, pushing his darkness into her. She writhes from the pain as he invades her body and I rush to help, but there is nothing to do. Once he has a hold, he begins pulling at her. Where before black tendrils entered, now bright white light is siphoned out and away. He greedily takes from her, and she sags, visibly aging in minutes.
But then something changes. Helene stands a little taller and pushes her own life more firmly out and into him. She pours everything she has left into fighting him and he grows as he consumes too much life to be held by one soul. He cannot break the connection, and she is too far gone to break it herself. She withers while he burns.
I watch, powerless, as I hear my beloved human’s heart flutter rapidly in fear and then stop. I howl and turn to the soul, ready to exact vengeance, only to find nothing of him remaining. All that is left is a charred spot on the disgusting floor.
Hecate sighs deeply and looks down. I pad over to her, unsure, but she just shakes her head. They are gone. There is nothing left for us to do. Heart broken and tail fallen, I turn around and leave the now-empty house, Hecate at my side.
We retrace our steps through the mortal world. Where once I jumped along beside her, now I slowly and painstakingly put one foot in front of the other, grief making my limbs heavy.
As we return to the Borderlands, I cannot stop myself from sniffing the air, hoping to find another soul. My human’s soul. She must be out here somewhere. But there is no sign of her, or of anybody else. The area is as empty as I am.
Back at her cottage, Hecate prepares a bowl of stew and then pours a small vial of liquid into it. She gives it to me and although it smells and tastes off, I do not question her. I am too tired. I drink it and fall asleep.
The next morning I awake to the sun shining. We are in a different part of the Underworld, but that is not surprising. Even in the short time I’ve been here, I’ve learned that time and space work differently than they do in the Mortal Realm.
I walk out to see the Elysian Fields, a realm of serene beauty and eternal tranquility, bathed in the soft hues of twilight, stretched as far as the eye could see. It is a place where the spirits of the departed find solace, a realm untouched by pain or sorrow. Here, the gentle breeze carries with it the scent of blooming flowers and the distant song of birds.
I don’t dare to hope, but Hecate calls me out and I feel a sense of awe wash over me. I stand by her side, my ears perked up, catching a distant whisper in the breeze. Hecate, with her eyes full of understanding, turns her gaze to a shimmering path of golden light that unfolds before us.
A figure emerges from the mist, and my heartbeat quickens and my tail wags again. It is my human. I know it is, I would know her anywhere.
“Aello,” she whispers. Her voice is filled with love.
With a bark of pure delight, I bound forward through the lush, green grass of the Elysian Fields. My human kneels down, and I nuzzle her. The sorrows of our separation vanish as we embrace, and I feel the warmth of love wash over me. She whispers gratitude and apologies and promises and I push myself against her, returning the sentiments. We don’t need to speak each other’s languages to understand one another.
In the tranquility of this realm, time holds no sway, and our reunion is not limited by the constraints of the living. We stay together for a lifetime, for two lifetimes, or maybe for the space of a heartbeat. It is impossible to say.
Hecate watches the reunion with a smile, her eyes reflecting a deep sense of satisfaction. She must have orchestrated this moment, somehow.
“Aello,” she says to me. “You have a choice to make.”
I look up at her, remembering myself. I am no longer bound to my human, because I am Hecate’s familiar.
“You were hers first, my dear. You can choose, now, what life you will live. Stay here in the Fields, or continue the work with me. I can find another helper. Choose what is best for you.”
Again, a choice. Something I was not often granted in life. I look back and forth between the two women. Hecate, a sorceress of unparalleled power, and my human, the woman who had raised me from the time of my birth. So much love spilled from my heart.
In the Elysian Fields, there is no pain, no fear, only love and the eternal bond between a loyal dog and his beloved owner. We could be home, together once more, in a place where love would never be separated by time or mortality.
Throughout the rest of Hades, there are countless souls to help and witches to tend to. There will be those who seek to hurt others, and they will need to be brought to justice. We could do the most important work together.
We stand together and bask in the beauty around us, a trio of spirits connected through me. Here, in this realm of eternal tranquility, I have found a true home, a palace of love and loyalty. Whatever I choose, wherever I go, I know my decision will be the right one.
Leave a Reply