Chapter Text
Warning: This story contains adult themes, including graphic depictions of violence and death, as it is centred around a war between two opposing 'families'. It's intended for adult readers only.
THIS STORY IS CURRENTLY BEING REVISED. COMPLETED, REVISED CONTENT HAS A TICK NEXT TO THE CHAPTER IN THE CHAPTER INDEX LIST.
This story is inspired by the ancient Greek myth of Hades and Persephone, with Sasuke as the ruler of the Underworld and Sakura as the spring-maiden he glimpses and falls in love with. I've always loved that particular myth, and thought it would be fun to rewrite it with a modern, Naruto-twist. Sasuke's dark, brooding persona fits the image of a dangerous and seductive Underworld king perfectly, while Sakura is very much associated with innocence and spring.
This will be an AU story as a result. I will be trying to work in as many characters from Naruto as I can. If you favourite this work, I'd really appreciate it if you could kindly take a few moments to leave your thoughts about it. Reviews are gold and inspire me to write new content.
Synopsis: When first he laid eyes upon her, he thought her the very personification of spring. She was of warmth and light, a pure thing so unfamiliar to his cold, bleak existence. For two years he has watched her, from the depths of shadow; waiting to claim her, to steal her away from the land of the living. Waiting to make her Queen of the Dead. /Hades/Persephone retold. SasuSaku.
Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own Naruto and related characters/settings, and am not profiting from writing this in any way whatsoever. The Naruto characters, location names and lore are all copyright to Masashi Kishimoto. The depictions of the Underworld/Olympus/Sea Kingdom and overall plot in relation to the retelling of the Hades/Persephone myth, however, are the products of my imagination.
Disclaimer 2: This story and the beings depicted in this work are purely fictional, Naruto-equivalent representations of entities originating from old Ancient Greek mythology, all set within a fictional AU world. The names of any mythological creatures and locations used are also inspired by the same myths, though I might take creative liberty with their descriptions.
This imaginary work is not intended to promote, confirm, influence or subject readers to any particular religious beliefs, nor is it in any way a reflection of my own religious beliefs, I personally believe in monotheism. Although the character names/functions are borrowed from Ancient Greece, they're not intended to be the same entities. They are not 'gods' worshipped by humans in the modern context of the story; rather they are equivalent to supernatural personifications of specific concepts, who are responsible for maintaining those functions, and who wield powers through the special abilities they have either inherited or been gifted.
Disclaimer 3: If you are expecting only SasuSaku content and a generic Hades x Persephone retelling, please be warned: this is not that kind of story! Reading this behemoth of a fic requires patience, but hopefully you will find it worth your time once the immersion grabs you. The world-building is huge, the plot is complicated and intertwined and follows the fates of many characters. As well as romances and family/friendship bonds, there are monsters, battle sequences, wars, tragedies, triumphs, adventures, magical places, and lots of plot twists. It really is an emotional roller-coaster and you need to be prepared to strap in for the long-haul in order to appreciate it fully. With that said, I hope you enjoy my story and thank you for reading.
~ Q U I E T U S ~
By Seraphina Scribes
Prologue
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qui·e·tus (noun)
1. Discharge or release from debt, obligation, or office
2. Death or something that causes death, regarded as a release from life
3. Anything that serves to quiet, suppress, or end an activity
~*~
A keeper of souls, devoid of his own,
One starved of warmth and ravenous for it,
He watches, from the clutches of despair,
From the depth of shadow, that world above,
The land of the living, which mocks him so,
Taunting with a vision of shimmering light,
Of loveliness so fair that he might seek to pluck it,
As a fruit just ripe from its motherly tree,
Though no deathly claim has he to it,
Naught but his own inexplicable need,
To consume the very air she breathes.
He waits.
*
~*~
In loving memory of:
Hiruzen Sarutobi
February 8 th 1937 - September 24 th 2011
May his soul be accepted in peace unto heaven.
~*~
The words engraved into the slab of granite held no semblance of meaning to him. They were the sentimental inscriptions of ignorant humans who knew nothing of the afterlife. Humans, who above all else, were masters at postulating theories to account for the things they didn't understand, in a futile attempt to hide their fear of the unknown. The wedge of rock bore a name that would eventually, over the merciless flow of time, be forgotten. Why, then, did mortals still insist on carving identities onto tombstones? He did not understand such superfluous human customs. The dead were precisely that - dead. And their souls did not always pass into heaven with the same ease that humans liked to make themselves believe. He knew it. After all, he was the governor of the dead, whose job it was to ensure that every soul was accounted for and ushered to its correct destination.
He could see the soul of the deceased man for whom an entire throng of people had gathered to pay their respects. It shone with a weak essence, but that particle of light was enough to dictate the soul's fate.
This way, he silently willed, and at his wordless command the essence of the man looked up to gaze upon him. Instead of being frightened, or overwhelmed, or any of the other things the majority of the newly-dead experienced, the man simply looked saddened and weary – as though he understood precisely who the raven-haired entity standing by the lone tree, invisible to the rest of the crowd, was. The old man instinctively knew what he was – and with one final, heavy look about the tear-stricken faces, drifted willingly forward. A blink and the soul dispersed silently in the early autumn wind before it reached its caller. Time was of the essence. It had a boat to catch.
His work here was done. Dark, steely eyes, the colour of onyx, surveyed the pale, distraught expressions huddled about the grave with clinical detachment, a last, parting look at the swarm of mortals, as he silently speculated which amongst them would be next to depart the land of the living.
That was when he glimpsed it – a flash of colour amongst the bleak, shapeless blurs of grey and black that caused a strange and sudden stillness to befall him. Standing between a pale-blonde haired young female and a brown-haired young male was a girl, just coming unto the bloom of womanhood, with a creamy complexion and the largest, most captivating eyes he had seen on a human face in centuries. Eyes framed by lashes so long they seemed to tangle in places. Her dusky, shoulder-blade length hair was a peculiar shade of pastel pink, a hue he had never before spied amongst mortal women. She was clothed in the same black as the others – and yet something about her was vivid and unequivocally different.
Something about her captured his attention - and held it at that moment with a riveting force. A draw so magnetic and unexpected, that it caught him off guard entirely. For never had his gaze lingered in such a way.
He could see it, radiating so gently from her small, slender form - an aura so apparent that it practically formed a tangible glow about her.
Her soul, he realised, unable to tear his gaze away from her; her soul was curiously unblemished, untainted, nothing like the other mortals around her. There was something about it. Something... almost peculiar. Like a strange anomaly, an unfamiliar puzzle that begged to be solved.
The prayers were coming to an end, and the crowd was beginning to disperse from its outer fringes. Soon she was the only one left standing by the grave, a single, white-rose held in the clutches of tiny, fragile fingers. Without warning, her sorrowful eyes lifted, looking straight in his direction. For a transient moment time suspended, and he had to remind himself that she could not see him – not unless he willed it – when her gaze lowered again and she placed the flower on top of the freshly covered grave.
"Sakura!"
Her head turned, startled at the call, as if she had forgotten herself for a moment. After casting one final lingering, mournful look at the gravestone, the young girl turned and hurried away.
He watched her go, her name reverberating deafeningly through his mind with all the chaos of a mighty battle drum summoning foolish warriors to their impending dooms.
Sakura.
Sakura.
She was named after the spring.
~*~
Sasuke & Sakura in the Prologue by ariadnia
(https://www.deviantart.com/ariadnia/art/Quietus-Manga-try-349990682)