A small boy lies in the garbage in an alley, he's been beaten to the brink of death then a dazzling light shines on him like a miracle but no one to witness
"You walk again only because your rot offends Olympus. Remember this—your breath is borrowed, and the gods will not have their name fouled by it."
Says the sevent of Apollo and takes his exit
Orpheus is finally set free after centuries of torment. But his eyes remain lifeless and filled with doubt.
"Was it this easy to get out So this is mercy? No—this is disgust. Not pity, not justice."
He looks at his hands so light without the weight of heavy chains.
Tears start pouring like the rain that surrounds him
"Where am I?" says Orpheus after he gains his senses with a sorrowful voice.
He looks around checking his environment with lots of curiosity.
Broken windows, garbage's everywhere and foul smell everywhere.
But he doesn't care as it's far better than is eternal age in Tartarus.
He sees his own reflection in a broken mirror.
It is a body of a child with hair like the deepest darkness different to his past lush golden hair; and eyes like they have seen all the terrors of the world.(dark brown eyes)
Orpheus raises a trembling hand, touching the reflection as if it might dissolve. The glass quivers with rain, distorting the hollow cheeks, the swollen lip, the purpled bruises.
"This… is what they give me?" His voice cracks. "From chains of fire to chains of flesh. From one prison to another."
The boy's chest rattles with each breath—lungs too small to hold the weight of an immortal's grief. He stumbles back, knees striking the wet concrete, the filth soaking into his skin.
His frail body, unable to bear the centuries of endless torment now gives way to exhaustion, and he collapses into sleep.