Socrates stood tall and proud before the men in the court of Athens, his robes flowing around him as he addressed the surrounding men. He stood defending himself as best he could from the attacks of his accusers. He failed however, in that room of marble columns and angry Greeks, his words falling upon deaf ears and the court’s words echoing angry death through the ages.
“Corrupter, blasphemer.” The words crept through the minds of the men in the chamber, showing no mercy for the fate of this brave teacher.
“Death,” Hades announces from the head of the court, no emotion on his stony face. As Socrates accepts his fate, Hades has not seen as brave a man as this . Seeing me from across the chamber, he summons me and I quickly rush over.
“My friend, I fear my time is done.” He says softly as the executioners appear. “Remember that we owe one rooster to Epidarus.” His voice not wavering one bit as a steward appears beside him, a grim cup on the tray. Socrates, not caring to look, reaches for the cup and drains it quickly. He starts to speak again, the words caught in his throat as vile Hades whispers gently in his ear. Socrates shows fear in his eyes as he stammers “I drank what?” and finally succumbs to the call of the eternal, his final words drifting through space.