Song as Sweet as a Minor Key

By: Riley Buckingham

Music filled the air. The sweet notes of the lyre drifted in the wind, drawing people from far and wide with its melody. Orpheus’s voice sung over it all, dancing along the notes of the tune. The clearing was crowded, but his eyes only found one person. Bright, smiling eyes, olive skin, long brown hair.

She smiled when he looked at her. Her face lit up, brighter than the rays of Apollo himself. Orpheus couldn’t help it. He had fallen in love.

Her name was Eurydice. A wood nymph, and the most beautiful woman Orpheus had ever seen. His heart fluttered every time he spotted her, a smile always rising to his face.

Orpheus had lulled the sleepless dragon to a slumber. He had taken part in the capture of the Golden Fleece. He had fended off Sirens with his voice and music. And yet those feelings of triumph paled in comparison to what he felt with Eurydice.

They spent countless hours together. They would talk, they would sit in silence. She would tell him stories of the forests, and he would tell her tales of his voyages. He would sing and she would listen. She would laugh along with the tune, her laughter more beautiful than any note Orpheus could play. She would dance, moving like a leaf in the wind, spinning gracefully in the breeze. After years of adventuring, Orpheus had finally found a place- a person- to call home.

At long last, the two were wed. The day was bright and happy, the sun god smiling down upon them once more. Birds sung their song in the trees, and the wind blew along gracefully. 

Happiness filled the air, but soon Apollo fled with his sun. 

The birds retired to their nests, the wind flowed flat. The winged love god uttered his prophecy, his words of warning. He warned that this happiness, this bliss, was not permanent.

For years, it seemed as if he was wrong. The pair lived their lives happily in love, lives filled with smiles, laughter, and song. They shared one heart, one mind. They were one. They were inseparable.

Seasons passed. The autumn leaves changed colors and fell, bathing the earth in a golden light. Snow rained down from the heavens, melting into puddles some time later. Flowers bloomed their bright petals, and the animals awakened.

She was dancing - or so Orpheus was told - soaking in the spring air, dancing in her forest. 

One step, and it was over. She was gone. A snake. He was told it was a viper. Deadly.

He ran to the spot. He ran until his legs gave out, until his lungs felt like fire; but she was already gone, her soul whisked away to the Underworld.

Orpheus had lost his Eurydice. He had lost a part of himself. He had lost his other half, his heart. He had lost the air which he breathed, the life which filled his body. He had lost the joy with which he sang, the strength with which he played the lyre. He had lost her laugh, her smile, her dancing. He had lost his home.

Orpheus fell into despair. How would he move on? How would he live? Eurydice was dead; and therefore, so was his will to continue. Orpheus wanted no part in a life without Eurydice.

The only option was to bring his wife- his song, his voice, his heart, his home- back to him.

Orpheus walked into the Underworld, under its arching black gates, across the River Styx, and into the palace of Hades himself.

The god had looked at Orpheus in shock. No man, mortal or demigod, had ever entered the Underworld looking to bring a soul back from the dead. Hades turned his back on Orpheus, refusing to bring Eurydice back.

Orpheus was distraught. He refused to leave without Eurydice, but he couldn’t fight a god. He couldn’t challenge the deity of death, so Orpheus turned to the one thing he knew he could do.

Music  filled the air. The somber notes of the lyre drifted in the cool air, drawing the souls of the underworld forth with its melody. Orpheus’s voice sung over it all, crying along the notes of the tune. The palace was filled with souls, but his eyes found only one person. Dead, sorrow-filled eyes, grey skin, long white hair. 

She didn’t smile then. Her face was dark, painted like the night sky. Orpheus couldn’t help it. He began to weep. 

Hades spotted Eurydice. He heard the anguish in Orpheus’s song. And so the controller of death struck a deal which he had never struck before.

Orpheus and Eurydice could leave. They could have their lives back. Eurydice could return to the land of the living, but there was a catch.

On their trek back to life, Orpheus couldn’t turn to see if his love was behind him. For if he turned, she would return to the Underworld. Forever. 

The prospect struck hope within Orpheus. He could do this; he was sure of it. He and his Eurydice could have their life back. They could be together once more. 

The march was long. Rocky ground slanted upwards, towards the Earth. No wind blew here. The only sounds were the wailing of lost souls, slowly getting fainter as they walked. The air was crisp and cold, sending a shiver down Orpheus’s back; but he continued to walk. 

He and Eurydice didn’t say a word. They were worried that if they spoke, Orpheus would turn. He kept his shoulder straight, his neck and head unmoving. 

Time seemed to slow. Maybe time wasn’t real in the realm of the dead: the lost, the fallen. And yet each step he took, Orpheus knew he was getting closer. 

Closer to regaining his Eurydice. To regaining a part of himself. Regaining his other half, his heart. Regaining the air which he breathed, the life which filled his body. Regaining the joy with which he sang, the strength with which he played the lyre. Regaining her laugh, her smile, her dancing. Regaining his home. 

Soon, glints of Apollo’s sun appeared, cutting through the darkness like a knife. Orpheus smiled.

“We’re almost there, my love,” he promised. 

He could see the grass and the blooming flowers of spring. The wind blew, it’s sweet waves hitting his face. The sounds of birds singing floated down the tunnel, the sweet song echoing. The air smelled of spring and life, sending a smile to Orpheus’s face. His tread grew faster. 

He walked until he met the sun, until it shone upon him once more. He was hopeful. He had succeeded, and so he turned around. 

But he turned too soon. Eurydice was not out of the tunnel yet. She remained in the dark, and Orpheus had turned to her.

He watched slowly as she smiled, but this was not her bright smile. This was a smile of sadness, a bittersweet beam. She smiled as she was taken away, her soul floating into the land of the dead once more. Forever.

Orpheus had lost his chance. She would never return to him, not in this life. 

What seemed like an eternity passed. Orpheus grew old alone. He lost his passion for music and singing. He didn’t move, he didn’t eat. The life he was living wasn’t worth living anymore. 

Finally, the day came. He knew it was time. He felt it in his bones, in his heart; and so in his last moments, Orpheus reached for his lyre.

The same music filled the air. The sweet notes of the lyre drifted in the wind; but this time, no one came forth. Orpheus’s voice sung over it all, dancing along the notes of the same tune. His room was empty, but his soul felt full. Soon, he would see those bright smiling eyes once more. Soon, he would sing to olive skin and long brown hair. 

The rays of Apollo’s sun began to disappear, being enveloped by the darkness. Orpheus smiled. 

“I’m almost there, my love,” he promised.