Beyond The Inferno: A Novelisation of The Divine Comedy by Alex L Moretti

Author:Alex L Moretti [Moretti, Alex L]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-06-05T22:00:00+00:00

Terrace 2 - The Penitent Envious

The angel points to a secret opening in the rock wall and guides us up this Pass of Pardon. It is here we must begin the next phase of our ascent, but I believe this will be slightly easier, for a glimpse in reveals it is not as confined, nor steep as at the base. However, we are already at a significant height and I cannot throw caution to the wind just yet, for the sacred stairwell is long and spirals upwards to infinity, thus a stumble would send me plummeting to my death. Again, the amber beauty of the fire opal glistens through the pink volcanic rock within, so too red beryl, topaz and jasper. It is as a cave of jewels and I am much heartened. The shade of the inner mountain is a welcome relief, for we have been climbing in the midday sun and although we are of Easter and therefore April, it is warm and I remain clothed in cumbersome robes and girded in restrictive reeds. Yet, as the angel at the Gate of Purgatory promised, it is less arduous than the previous climb, for a significant weight is lifted with the removal of the letter from my brow and thus our pace quickens slightly.

Finally, and after a lengthy climb with Virgil taking the lead, we emerge from the stairwell into a maze of passages and corridors, paths and gates and we know not which to take. There is no one to ask for directions and Sordello remains in the Valley of Negligent Rulers so Virgil looks to the sun for guidance and states confidently that we shall follow its beams, for sunlight is sent by God and we are directed by Him. He moves forward, clockwise and we ascend. The path is steep and it takes effort to climb, for it is long, wrapping around the mountain circumference twice, maybe three times. Frustrated and hot, after two hours, possibly more, we finally reach the second terrace, that place where the sin of Envy is purged, which, as the first, is empty of souls.

I suggest to Virgil we rest and wait for signs of life but he wishes to push ahead, for once the sun sets, ascent is forbidden and we are already of mid-afternoon. We continue on for a mile or so and I am disappointed to see there is no vegetation: no flowering bushes, no spring crocus nor a violet; not a blossoming tree, even. The rock has a blue-black hue, for it is of slate, metamorphosed from shale and is stratified thus the cliff face is empty of friezes and sculptures. Indeed, this is a barren and unappealing landscape with no beauty for eyes to rest upon. In the distance we hear disembodied voices crying in the air, although we do not yet encounter any souls. The sounds are as an ethereal murmur until we reach closer, whereupon I realise they relay tales of love and kindness such that Mercy is the correlating virtue to Envy.

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