Young Writers Society

The surface shattered at the impact of Nathaniel’s shovel and suddenly, they were falling. “Miérda,” Valeria cursed under her breath. The two fell through pitch blackness occasionally falling through watery puffs possessing a bright red color. It almost felt like an odd form of torture. Each time they felt like they were about to die, they would pass through a cloud and the liquid would invigorate them and give them the strength to stay alive for more torture. Valeria tried not to scream, because she knew it would be of no use. It’s not like anyone would hear them in this ancient abyss, and even if they did, why would they ever help her? Nathaniel, on the other hand, screeched like a little kid who had discovered a huge spider in their room until he lost his voice.

They fell for an amount of time that was both infinite and inexistent. Time seemed tricky wherever they were. On one hand, they could have been falling for decades, but on the other, it could have been a mere millisecond. Tall blades of grass began to come into view below them. Unless they could find a pile taller than a skyscraper of this grass, they would surely die. Valeria gripped Nathaniel’s wrist as she tried to lie herself out like a starfish and Nathaniel mimicked her. As they got closer and closer to the ground, they could see a bunch of things walking depressingly through the maze of grass. The things almost seemed humanoid, but they were completely translucent, with a bluish aura emanating from each one. They almost seemed like… spirits.

They couldn’t dwell on that now though; they could investigate if they survived the fall. 10 seconds until they splat. 9 seconds, 8 seconds, 7 seconds, 6 seconds, 5 seconds, 4 seconds, 3 seconds, 2 seconds. “¡Si no morimos ahora, te mataré con mis propias manos!” Valeria yelled at Nathaniel. 1 second. SPLAT!

Instead of splatting into the ground, they happened to land in one of the spirits roaming the field. Many have predicted that touching a spirit would just feel like a cold presence, or nothing at all, just a mystical feeling. It was nothing like that. Landing on a spirit felt similar to landing on a condensed water droplet or a huge water balloon made of indestructible latex. The two slid off unscathed and fell to the ground, but the spirit was still lying down, crying.

Nathaniel held his hand out to the spirit. “I am so sorry that we knocked you down and interrupted your day!” he apologized as the spirit took his hand to stand up. “Though, in a selfish way, I am slightly thankful for your presence because we would have fallen to our untimely deaths if not for you.” he chuckled nervously. The spirit did not say anything in response, it just studied Nathaniel as if it was trying to gauge his sincerity. “Aeneas? Sychaeus?” it questioned.

Nathaniel backed away cautiously. “Who?” he inquired. “My dear lovers. But you don’t look very much like Aneas… Is it you, Sychaeus?” the spirit sighed. That name sounded familiar to Valeria, so she thought back to her Greek mythology phase from middle school and all she rambled on about at the dinner table. Now that she thought about it, this place sure looked like the underworld that she was so obsessed with, only possessing a few key differences. Then who was Aeneas and Sychaeus’ lover? “Dido?” Val questioned guardedly. The spirit nodded its head. Nathaniel stared at her in a mixture of awe and utter confusion. The spirit gripped its hands around Nathaniel’s cheeks, now bawling harder than before, desperately asking “Are you Sychaeus?” repeatedly. Nathaniel, with no idea what to do, sent many worrisome glances to Val stating a clear message, ‘GET ME OUT OF THIS.’

Valeria stuck her hand between the two and interrupted, “I’m sorry, he’s not.” The spirit promptly let go of his face, giving him the comfort to talk again. “If I may ask, where we are?” he asked Dido. Before Dido could answer, Valeria interrupted, “The Mourning Fields. Well, that’s what I remember this place being called from seventh grade.” “Correct, but you may also call this place Lugentes Campi.” Dido informed them. “Oh! What a compelling name! Whatever does it mean?” Nathaniel asked. “It means mourning fields stupid boy. The place for souls who wasted their lives on unrequited love.” It replied. “That doesn’t sound Greek…” Valeria piped in. “That’s because it isn’t. It’s Roman, idiota.” Dido responded. An air of silence fell between the group. The only thing which could be heard were the distant sobs of the spirits. “So… just a fun hypothetical scenario, but say we weren’t dead, how exactly would we get out?” Valeria prompted.

“You could try to find an entrance to the labyrinth somewhere down here, but no one even knows if the labyrinth connects to the underworld, so your best bet would be to get permission from Pluto or Prosperpina to leave.” Dido told them. “Well, where might we find Pluto and Prosperpina?” Nathaniel questioned. Dido scoffed, “Do you not know anything? Find them in their city, it’s literally called the City of Pluto. It’s also the only metropolis in Hades, the rest of the underworld is barren for the most part.”

Val promptly pulled Nathaniel aside, just out of earshot from Dido. “Where is the City of Pluto?” she questioned him. “How do you expect me to know? You were the one with the weird Greek mythology phase!” he responded. “Exactly! GREEK mythology! I’m totally out of my element with this Roman stuff!” Val defended. “Fair point.” Nathaniel sighed. “By the way, why were you speaking so awkwardly to her? You were literally like ‘Hello fair maiden, I don’t suppose you would happen to know where we have landed on this stupendous day?’.” she questioned mockingly. “I was nervous! Give me a break!” he said defensively.

They both turned back to Dido and Val walked a step closer to her. “Do you, uhm, possibly have a map of this place?” Val inquired. “I’m not your tour guide. Figure it out yourselves.” Dido scorned. “Uh, okay. Could you at least point us in the direction of the City of Pluto?” Nathaniel butted into the conversation. Dido sighed and rolled her eyes while weakly pointing right between the heads of the two children. “Follow the light. But, make sure it’s the artificial light of the city, not fire.” she informed them. “Thanks.” the two kids said in unison.

The children walked in the direction she was pointing. “So, where do you think we are?” Nathaniel prompted anxiously. “Roman Underworld. Specifically, the Fields of Mourning. At least, that’s what Dido told us.” Val half heartedly replied. Nathaniel sighed heavily, “I was really hoping she was joking… or insane.” “It lines up too well. From what I know about Greek mythology, this looks pretty similar, so it would make sense, I guess?” Valeria answered. “Make sense? MAKE SENSE? We could be in a made up place from digging to far down on the beach! We probably fell for MILES and don’t have a SINGLE SCRATCH! We are in the goddamn ROMAN UNDERWORLD and you are saying this makes ANY POSSIBLE SENSE?” Nathaniel broke down. “Okay, maybe this doesn’t make much sense…” Val spoke softly as she slung her arm around her half-brother’s shoulder and they strolled towards the glow of the city.

That’s what I saw; at least, that’s half of what I saw. The other half? Well, the other half is a problem. And my life purpose is to eliminate problems.