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“Yes, however, there are other, much more well-known works of Virgil. The Aeneid, for one,” he replied, and that was true.
“Dante wrote the Divine Comedy almost like a self-help book. He was exiled from Florence, lost all of his possessions, and his love, Beatrice. In the Death of Eurydice, the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice is told, and Orpheus, like Dante, loses his love. They both search for them in death. So, it’s the best similarity in his work to use.”
“You are right.” He grinned, placing his hand under my chin, lifting my head. “However, both Orpheus and Dante lose their loves forever.”
I frowned, taking back my chin. “What do you mean? Dante meets Beatrice again in Paradise. She’s the one that guides him in.”
“But when Dante reaches Paradise, Beatrice does not love him as he remembered. And the farther he goes, he realizes his love for Beatrice is not true happiness. They are together in the end, but their love is inconsequential. If the tale was merely for entertainment, why would he not have ended it at meeting her again?”
“Because Dante was also very religious and didn’t want to be blasphemous,” I stated, leaning forward.
He leaned down, too. “He wrote of popes in hell’s fire and nearly condemned the whole church.”
“The church isn’t the religion. It’s people. Condemning people of that religion is not condemning the whole faith.”
“Exactly, faith is not meant to be for enjoyment but to teach a lesson to those who believe in it. Therefore, his purpose was not enjoyment.” He smiled in his victory.
I sighed. “Why are you reading this? Are you hoping to be taught something?”
“Yes and no. Recent activities had me wondering where mortals’ souls go after death. When I die and return, it is as if I were sleeping and just awake to a new place,” he stated, and I felt a small ache at the thought of him dying even for a little bit.
“I still prefer to read it as work of enjoyment,” I whispered, resting my head on my hands. “Dante went from misery to bliss. It’s good no matter how he and Beatrice ended up. At least she was still there with him.”
His eyes locked with mine. Quickly, gently, he kissed my lips. However, it was quick, so I didn’t have time to respond before he spoke again. “You have the fortitude of a justice.”
“Is that the old one way of saying I like to argue?”
“Yes.” Theseus voice, drawing my attention to his bare chest as it rumbled. Each one of his muscles…“My eyes are up here.”
“That’s where I was looking,” I lied, and he only laughed more.
“So, you will argue with the truth as well as ghosts.”
It was then that I remembered. “Ghosts—I think I set Elisa-Maria Götze free.”
Calming down, he nodded. “Father showed us your memory.”
“He can do that, too?”
“We can all remember. It only takes sharing of blood. But only he is able to allow us to see via his mind,” he said, reaching up to brush my hair from my face. “To us it looked as if you were battling and talking to air; a much clearer explanation was needed.”
“So, everyone saw my thoughts?” What exactly was I thinking then?
“You did not have many thoughts. Your main focus was Elisa-Maria Götze. In the end, it looked as if you two had become friends.”
“Yeah.” I grinned at that. “She kind of reminded me of Lucy, actually.”
“Is that how you knew the way to help her?”
How did I know? “No. I was just mad.”
“Mad?” He looked confused.
“Not crazy mad, more like angry. I was angry about her husband, and then I was angry at her for attacking me and trying to attack you. It was only when I spoke out of anger and told her I’d summon her husband that I realized she was just a woman who loved someone and was hurt by them. She was unable to let go. In the end, I wanted to slap some sense into her, but she was so stubborn.”
“You are one to speak of stubbornness,” he mused.
“Is that so?” I backed away from his hands, causing a soft grumble in his throat. Putting even more space between us, his eyes narrowed on me. “This is me being stubborn and reminding you that we aren’t—ah!”
