The harsh whistle of smoke erupting through cracked stone disturbed the bitter calm. Persephone’s bloodshot eyes widened in terror as she anticipated yet more horrors, and her holy heart beat harsh against her chest as she met the stony gaze of the Underworld King. The black mist congealed into his ominous form, and as he looked upon the goddess in her pathetic state, an untold fury possessed his features.

"Please," Persephone whimpered, swiftly averting her eyes. "I am beaten. You have taken all from me, and I can endure nothing more. Have mercy. Do not add to my torment with your troubling presence!"

Hades narrowed his eyes. A hand slowly lifted reached out for the goddess, who thrashed violently as she felt it slide against her skin. "No!" she shouted. Hades hesitated, but continued. His fingers pressed against her again as he slipped them around the chains that bound her. Then, with one fierce tug, he pulled them all to pieces and left them scattered on the ground. As before, they moved to coil around their assailant, but each piece that made contact with him quickly went cold and inert.

Persephone tumbled forward into his waiting arms, too weakened by her ordeal to fight her fall and too stunned by his action to consider it. Soon after, though, she gripped him and began to push in an effort to save herself from whatever prison he must have in mind to replace the one from which he’d freed her. But Hades held her fast, and her struggle proved futile. She shut her eyes and braced herself for the terrors that awaited.

"You have denied me from the very outset of our time together," spoke Hades. "I beseech you: at least deny me not the blessing of your emerald gaze."

The uncharacteristically gentle tone of his voice and the humility in his words gave the goddess pause. She opened her eyes slowly to see that the horrors of Tartarus had faded away, replaced by a verdant grove filled of colors more vivid than any she had ever seen. Familiar flowers mixed gleefully with chimeric breeds she had never seen before, and euphonious melodies drifted through the air from the tongues of wondrous beasts of the sky.

Persephone gasped. Her nostrils filled with sweet aromas, and she briefly choked on her own breath. Hades stepped forward behind her, fingers curled and arms folded behind his back.

"Forgive me," he said. "As much as I might have wished to provide you a calmer journey, I could not let you linger even a moment more in the darkness of Tartarus. Even the undying can find no reprieve there, and I would not see your light smothered by the shades."

"And what do you care about my light?” Persephone snapped as she regained her bearings. "You have dogged my every step since you trapped me in that horrid plane you call a kingdom, never ceasing your pursuit of my purity for even a moment. I thank my father for my freedom from the wretched Underworld. I thank my mother for moving him to force your rotten hand."

Taking the barrage of insults in stride, Hades turned to look out over the bounteous expanse. "You are not free of the Underworld," he corrected. "This, too, is a part of my domain."

"You lie.” Spring stuttered in her assertion, proving her confusion and uncertainty. "You preside over naught but barrenness and decay. Such unearthly beauty as this is beyond you."

"You are merciless in your admonitions, Kore. I admit that I have not been to you what I hoped to be; my station keeps me preoccupied, and I must struggle after every moment of peace. But when I heard your cry, I abandoned all to come to your aid. You have seen far worse than I ever intended for you, so now, I wish to show you the best."

He stepped forward and gestured out over the infinite greenery. Besides the beasts and the rainbow of flora, there were a number of humanoid figures frolicking in the distance. There were those who fidgeted among the flowers and those who ran haplessly through the fields. There were those who lay prone in the grass to stare blissfully into the ethereal orb that gave the plane light, and there were those who occupied themselves with friendly games and sports.

Amongst them all, there were none to be seen who lacked a euphoric gaze attached to an unblemished form. If she hadn’t known better, Persephone might have thought them to be gods, but Hades was honest if nothing else.

"What is this?" she asked after calming a bit. "In all the lands my mother tends, I have scarcely seen such beauty. How can this be the same Underworld where horrors await at every turn?"

Hades released a wistful sigh. "Difficult to imagine though it may be," he explained, "as the ruler over the dead, I see more clearly than any that the divide between gods and men is defined not so much by time as it is by nature. The ever-living gods are static: seeing all, experiencing eternity, never to know true fear, true pain, or true death. The mortals, though, know all these things and worse. And knowing these things, they adapt, grow, and change."

Behind his lowered eyelids, images of the Asphodel Meadow displayed as clear as day, and he shared his vision with Persephone in the form of a conjured mirror that floated above the soft grass. "Though their physical beings may live on only through their descendants, mortal souls are as eternal as we are. But the burdens of long and trying lives only serve to slow their growth. In the Asphodel Meadow, those who have lived and may yet live again are given a reprieve from tribulations past and future. They wander in idle, ignorant peace, awaiting the day when they will at last return to the living for another journey toward completion."

His countenance darkened, and the mirror followed suit, replacing the placid meadow with the terrifying sights that Persephone had only just escaped. "Mortals have the capacity to aspire to the greatest heights of wisdom and nobility, but with that capacity comes the potential to descend into the darkest depths of depravity. Though it first houses those who stand as bitter and undying enemies of Olympus, Tartarus serves just as well as a final prison for those whose continued existence will only bring misery and woe to those who retain hope of ascension."

Persephone was hesitant to view the visions the mirror offered, but she forced her eyes upon it. Weakly, she raised her finger and pointed to a familiar sight. "The wandering limbs," she muttered. "I saw them there."

Hades’ amber eyes shifted back to the goddess. "They are what remains of Cronus, my father, who callously swallowed his own children whole and, upon his defeat, swore never to let the Earth know peace until he once more held sway over all who trod upon it."

Persephone’s lips began to quiver. "And the one who strives after nourishment he can never reach?"

"Tantalus, the evil lord who made of his own children a meal to be shared with the Gods of Olympus."

She gripped one hand tightly in the other, drawing both to her chest. "And the flaming wheel?"

"Ixion, the vile king whose heinous crimes included a sickening lust for my brother’s bride."

"And…" She hesitated. Unable to resist the mounting shame any longer, she finally dropped her face from the mirror. "And the one I freed?" she offered, barely.

Hades, too, was hesitant to proceed, but he gently offered Persephone the answer she sought. "The mortal king Sisyphus," he continued, "who has long used his wit and cunning to subvert the natural order, causing chaos for countless mortals and gods alike. He weaves deceptions wherever he goes, offending us all with his lies and innumerable sins."

Hades had said much, but after what she’d experienced firsthand, she at least could not doubt that Sisyphus was a man whose station in Tartarus had been well earned. And she, the naïve Spring Goddess, had thought herself wise enough to mete out justice as her father would. She hid her face in her hands, overcome by the shame. In so doing, she missed the pity and affection that overtook the cold visage of the God of the Underworld.

"It was my intention to bring you here far sooner," he said. "Just as there are souls whose evil will corrupt all that they touch, there are also souls so pure and noble that they have earned their freedom from the hardships of mortal life. Here in these Blessed Isles of Elysium, these souls enjoy a blissful eternity, wanting for nothing and living free of pain and loss as the gods do."

Persephone lowered her hands to stare sheepishly at her surroundings. "It’s beautiful," she observed, bringing the shadow of a smile to Hades’ lips. "I was never told that there was a place like this here. I was taught that brimstone and ash were all that mortals had to look forward to in death."

"For a time, that was true," Hades acknowledged. "The Earth was a paradise beneath my father’s reign, but all who died were consigned to the darkness of Tartarus without exception. When the Underworld became mine to rule, I kept Tartarus for our enemies and created the Asphodel Meadow to house those who deserved a more restful end. Elysium, however, is your creation."

"What?” Persephone’s features brightened somewhat, illuminated by her curiosity. She looked to Hades, who looked to the ground, experiencing a rare instance of bashfulness.

"The Asphodel Meadow was the best I could do for lost souls for the longest time. Rule of the dead is a dour station, and though my holdings are vast and ever-expanding, I take little joy in the work I do. But, when first I spied you up above, something changed in me. Perhaps it is the work of Aphrodite or her vile interloper of a son, but whatever the case, I could see brighter designs in you than I could ever have conceived of my own accord.

"I laid the groundwork for this expanse that would become the Blessed Isles," he continued. "I crafted the hills and the valleys. I filled it of water that flows through the crevices of the Earth. I made it temperate and smooth and bright to contrast against the darkness that reigns everywhere else in the Underworld, but until at last I brought you here, it was a barren plain. You have lent it life with your presence in my realm, and now, the deserving have a true paradise to call home for their eternity."

"So you have stolen from me to create this place," Persephone stated, souring somewhat at the notion. "I should have guessed. I have not ceased to feel the vitality draining from me since first you dragged me beneath the surface. Even now, I can feel that I am so much less than I once was. I can no longer be the pure Kore of the meadows. Never again.” The thought brought the beginnings of tears to her eyes.

"That isn’t so," Hades said. "All that I have done can be undone, if you wish it. On the outskirts of the Asphodel Meadow, there flows the river Lethe, from which all mortal souls must drink before passing into that realm for their rest. It is the act of drinking from this river which strips them of their memories and allows them to exist free of the injuries and pains of their past. Bathe in the Lethe as you leave, and you will be cleansed of all that has transpired since you came here. You will regain all that you have lost, but in turn, you will lose all that I have given you."

"You took me, and then you took from me," spoke the bitter goddess. "What do you claim to have given to me in return for all that I have lost?"

"All of this, of course." Hades replied, gesturing over the otherworldly expanse once more. "I could never tend to these glorious gardens with the same skill and care that you can. Elysium is yours, Persephone. It is my gift to you. And there is more."

He turned his palm upward, and a mass of black smoke burst into existence above it and faded just as quickly. It left in its place an elaborate golden tiara inlaid with emeralds and onyx gems. Hades held it out, and Persephone cautiously slid her fingers over its peaks and crevices.

"What is this?" she asked.

"A crown for my queen," he answered, "to match her throne. I acknowledge my failure to give you the attention you deserve since I brought you here, and I further acknowledge my failure to explain to you my designs. So now, I reveal all to you, that you may knowingly choose your fate. You are not to be my prisoner here, Persephone. Rather, you will be my equal, to rule the dead by my side as Queen of the Underworld. I will give you a voice in all the affairs that affect this land. Only choose to stay with me, and you will have the power that you have always sorely lacked."

He hesitated, and Persephone met his gaze at last. She stared intently into his sickly eyes, searching them for any sign of deception or ill intent. "How can I trust you?" she asked.

"We will exchange our vows over the Styx. Even the gods can never break a vow made in this manner. I swear now, and I will swear then, to treat you always as my queen and equal until time itself should meet its end."

Her eyelids lowered, and she gripped the front of her tattered blouse. Hades’ pale fingers curled in anticipation, then stretched as he reached out to for a chance to feel the tender warmth of Persephone’s face.

Death and Life connected at last, and both sighed in unison. The goddess drew back suddenly and turned her back to Hades. "No," she said. "I am just a pretty fool. Power is for my father, and authority for my mother. It is enough for me to enjoy the bloom."

Hades lowered his hand and swallowed hard. His grip on the tiara tightened until it threatened to warp and bend under the force.

"We are a heartbeat away from paradise," he muttered somberly, "and my heart beats only for you."

She turned swiftly to face him again, and large eyes wet with sorrow and awe met with the hardened gaze she’d been taught to fear. Her shaky voice, barely a whisper, bore his name to the winds of Elysium. "Hades…"

"Let us return to the palace," said the Underworld King. "Someone will come to collect you on the morrow."

"On the morrow?" she repeated. "Have two days passed already?"

He nodded. "The flow of time does not proceed undisturbed through the land of the dead. It speeds through some corners and crawls through others. I mark the path of Helios from my chamber, so you will not fail to meet your escort on his time."

Persephone pursed her lips. She turned to look once more at the wondrous isles, her eyes drinking desperately the otherworldly scenery. "Will I forget the Isles as well?"

"You will."

The goddess frowned. After a deep breath, she shut her eyes. "I am ready."