Sooo… hello everyone. Sorry this has taken forever. I never intended on abandoning this story but life loves to throw curveballs. I had a few GIANT historical paintings that had to be started in late spring and finished before the end of this month for a Salon showing in one of the galleries out here. There were a few workshops in between that I couldn't refuse and now the news of a little one on the way has really filled my summer months with stress, sickness, and a train wrecked house among other things. BUT… seeing as I have finished those paintings in the nick of time and will now just be painting on the side for fun… this gives me the perfect excuse and opportunity to come running back to this story and finish it!

I have many chapters written already but I am hesitant to post them since I obviously am not done writing the whole thing and it would be awful if I suddenly had an epiphany at the end but needed to sort through a lot of earlier chapters for plots and character growth to make sense. So when I do post a chapter, it usually is set in stone and is something I am proud of! I have learned my lesson with posting chapters on a whim without thinking ahead (cough-original story-cough) which is why I am rewriting this blasted thing again. This story is a re-write of Fall of Light but also an addition to the amateur story it all started with. I hope you can understand that it is so hard to try to make sense out of such an old, jumbled and contradicting main plot back when I had a co-author, meaningless little character subversions, random chapters that make me wonder what planet I was on when I posted it originally, and the COMPLETELY DIFFERENT writing styles that the co-author and I had.

So to all the concerned reviewers who followed me from the Fall of Light now to Fallen Light, there will be many recognizable themes and familiar pieces of the original. Just know that if I were to stick SO closely to the old plot line, I would be taking half of what my co-author wrote and calling it mine, the characters would not grow and progress as they REALLY should, there would be giant holes, and people would be laughing at the idiot who decided to rewrite a broken story with just pretty words instead of morphing and creating a complimentary piece that outshines its predecessor. I am always looking to IMPROVE, not fix. So do not despair, the more we get into the story, the more you will see it is the same idea, similar plot, and EXACT SAME ENDING as I had planned for the Fall of Light from the very beginning. Thank you for all the reviews in my absence of writing that kept me in good spirits. It made my day to hear how so many of you really love this story and want to read more!

P.S. as much as I hate it myself, I had to split this chapter up into two parts until I fix a couple things with the last bit so it would make sense in the scheme of things. So… Sorry for how short this chapter is and how long this A/N is. More will come soon this weekend! I GIVE MY WORD! I PROMISE!

P.S.S. let me know what you think of the new cover art for the story, its one of my paintings! Its a statue representing Persephone and I have two more in the series of the other queens in Greek Mythology: Statue of Hera who is painted in Gold and Green and statue of Amphitrite who is done in Blue. :) maybe ill put a link on my profile if anyone is interested in seeing the trio altogether.

The steps to the temple seemed to be an eternal climb. After the hasty decision to accept the Titan's advances, Persephone was beginning to doubt the wisdom in burying herself further into the twisted motivations of those surrounding her. The goddess knew she had never had much control over the past few years when it came to the direction her immortal life would take. The thought of submitting to the will of the Titan, however well-intended he may have seemed, was just another chain latched to pull her towards the fate that everyone else had deemed necessary. The road she was being led down benefitted everyone's desires but her own. Persephone was hesitant to admit that her troubled stranger had, to the best of his ability, struggled to keep his influence and hold on her weak so that she could grow, and yet even that seemed to be fading fast.

I will not have to reveal who I am, for if your heart is mine, my identity will mean nothing anymore.

His words reverberated in the back of her mind. Unconditional love did not constitute the dismissal of understanding the person she would willingly devote her feelings to. Persephone would not ignore his outright refusal to reveal his identity… it was important to her. Couldn't he see that? This unconditional love she had heard so much about was the knowledge of the partner's character and aspects, whether negative or of good worth, which could be overlooked if her lover's heart was of pure intent. A marked past could do little to deter the goddess of her affections if she could witness the truth of such a man and have faith in his future being.

If I have failed to win you over, I shall still visit you whether you like it or not.

With such few words, Persephone felt the weight of one hundred men drop on her shoulders. Her freedom to choose with the Titan had been spirited away just as quickly as it had come. She was burdened with his fate if she did not cooperate with Ares and ultimately lose the Titan's comforting presence. Indeed, the end result of associating with the God of War was not lost on Persephone and she would be a fool to count on the deal made in return for her cooperation in the blackmail. What could she do but follow Ares' plans in hopes that she could keep the Titan safe from harm, even if it meant sacrificing herself and her dignity?

The young goddess stepped into the dark chambers that held, at least she hoped, the one person who could answer her insistent questions and solve her battles that were undoubtedly on the horizon. A slight woman, appearing no older than Persephone in appearance, sat before her on a large pedestal. The Oracle was unclothed save for the red silk weaving vicariously about her limbs but cloaked the young face in darkness as it formed a hood that revealed only a quivering mouth.

The room was full of steam and smoke which created swirling veils that unnerved Persephone with elemental aromas from the earth from which they arose. A sharp gasp broke the tense silence as it came forth from the Oracle's lips. She arched her back and wafted more smoke and scents towards awaiting lungs to inhale. It startled poor Persephone and it had her clutching her heart while unadulterated fear and doubt swept through her body. Surely it was a mistake to come… how could she trust the word of such an intoxicated mortal?

"The seed of Olympus has wandered far from home. What, brave Immortal, do you wish to hear but require to be told?" the raspy, distant voice burned Persephone's ears.

Hesitant to reply, she gathered what little pride and courage she had left and took a slow, measured breath. What sort of mortal could draw such a reaction from her? Exhaling, Persephone whispered, "My fate rests in the hands of those holding power. I am helpless to know which familiar face I should turn to and which to run from," emboldened by the overwhelming emotions and, she decided, the fumes that were loosening her tongue, the goddess continued, "What was once in the name of right has now gone wrong and it leaves me destitute except to the advantage of ill-intentioned men."

She did not want to give her exact identity up just yet… the Oracle still needed to prove her talents so she resolved to remain as vague as the seated priestess in front of her. The red-cloaked figure let her stiff fingers go awry in positions that should have broken the little bones. They appeared to be hand symbols, or so Persephone could only venture to guess. Another wheezing breath erupted and the odd woman returned to speak, "The third prized artifact from Hell is what you shall steal if pleasing the one called War. Be wary of his eleventh hour when you come to claim that which has been guaranteed, for what was… will not be. Misery and failure accompanies the dishonest, immortal."

Persephone tried to still her racing heart. Ares wanted the Helm of Darkness? Is that what she was to steal from the Titan? It was more alarming than she cared to believe but the last bit the Oracle unveiled had confirmed her suspicions. Persephone's efforts would be in vain and Ares would not keep her secrets hidden, or the Titan's, for that matter.

The Oracle continued, "Redeem your transgressions and turn to the Dark that will ultimately lead to your light."

"If I must repent of my mistakes, how will the darkness alleviate my burdens?" She quickly demanded.

"The rightful owner of the Helm of Darkness awaits those that sacrifice much in return for help. You must seek him even at great risk so that he may take from you all that weighs your soul." She spoke in a husky tone that sounded as if she could not get enough air in her diaphragm.

"Hades?" Persephone voiced aloud, in horror, understanding that this mortal Priestess was counseling her to rely on the most feared and dreaded god in the mortal world as well as Olympus.

The Oracle gave the impression by her weakening posture that she was slipping into a trance which the Goddess was unsure she could break. Persephone hastily took uptight steps in the direction of the female fortune teller, "How is he the answer? Why would Hades help me? Why would he save my life and then agree to help me once more when it is at his expense? You just said I needed to steal the Helm for Ares. What could possibly influence Hades to agree to rise to my aid if I am protecting one of his Titans by taking what belongs to the Underworld and not returning it?"

"I caution your tongue and warn you now, She Who Eats the Light, the one titled Persephone. Kingdoms shall fall and rise at your will. Govern wisely, future royal, but not in bitterness, and this control you so desire in your life will be the demise of your enemies. Your humility by turning to him, Darkness, shall give you powers not even the Harvest, she who birthed you, could ever hope to attain."

All breath was stolen from the Goddess' chest and her heart was absent of its normal rhythmic beat. The mortal Priestess knew her name… and what was worse… predicted an impending life that seated Persephone above her mother. Yet, with such reign and power described, her enemies would fall if she stayed fair and incorruptible. What was this foretelling? She decided to store it in the back of her mind and returned to her present state,

"And what about the fate of… the Titan?" she cautiously enquired, fully aware that even mortals knew the forbidden law she was breaking by associating with a higher deity that should be imprisoned. It was blasphemy and betrayal of the worst kind. Isn't that what excited Persephone the most about the whole circumstance? For once, she was engaged in something that was teeming with risk of severe consequence… but it was the first choice that she had made and it was an inexpressible high that no amount of intoxicating methods could imitate. She had finally rebelled. Period.

The Oracle barely whispered the last prophecy before falling into an induced slumber, "Unto such will his false reflections be known but of which shall be answerable only to you."

Oberauth's wings beat more fiercely than Persephone could recall, hurtling her ever closer to the premises of the cave of nightmares. She saw the Underworld's rocky cave every time she closed her eyes since that recent and traumatizing episode. Time was running out before she had to dismount and face the eldest and most fearsome God, the Lord of the Underworld. She had only a jumbled speech promising incoherence since Persephone still had no solid words formed on how to approach his intimidating form. Heavy hoofs met rock and weeds which only served to disorient the trembling goddess further.

Biting her lip, Persephone lent pressure to her fingertips that burrowed deeper into the loose skin and mane at the top of the beast's neck, wanting reassurance from the animal who never faltered his impressive display of confidence. Oberauth jerked his head back slightly as if telling Persephone to get on with it. Did the Pegasus have any idea of how nervous she was?

Sliding off his high back, Persephone reached out her quaking hand for Oberauth to meet for a last ditch effort at attaining comfort, "I thought you were supposed to understand my thoughts and emotions," she chided, trying to be light-hearted, but realized that there was a strong annoyance and simmering anger forming because the horse was being so insensitive to her feelings.

His forehead nudged her palm, insisting to Persephone that there was little to be frightened of. She huffed as she turned from him and took her first step with bated breath, "Alright, alright, I am going…" Oberauth let his hoof scratch the ground, pleased with her, and let his nostrils flare slightly as he threw his head up and down in excitement. Persephone murmured, "Of course you are overjoyed at my leaving you..."

Her slim form was shoved forward by none other than the black Pegasus who used his strong head at her back, seeming insulted at her last comment. Persephone squealed, terrified that she was going to somehow have the same fate as the last time she was at the location. She gave him the glare of death, or so she hoped that it looked that convincing, "Remember the last time you helped get me inside that thing?" she pointed to the mouth of the cave, "are you trying to get me killed again?"

Oberauth turned his head from her, choosing to ignore the frightened goddess. Exasperated and the worse for wear, Persephone swallowed hard and let the shadow of the rock face engulf her, hiding her precious sun, and welcoming her into Hell.

Palpable terror washed over her as if she had just crossed a veil. Cool rushed of wind passed by her in so numerous of numbers that she knew it was not natural breezes. Sealing her eyes closed and rubbing at them in a better attempt to view her surroundings, Persephone stood still for as long as she dared while frigid wisps of air continued traveling as if she were never present. Flitting her eyes open in alarm as a stronger wind actually pushed her waif-like form a couple of inches forward, an audible gasp escaped what was supposed to be sealed lips. Persephone sent a silent prayer to Zeus that her current situation would not end too horribly.

An exhausted voice cracked the silence of whispering winds, "I carry the souls of the dead, not the living. Reveal yourself trespasser, for this shoreline is as far as you shall venture. I am the only passage to and from the Underworld and my commands have been made clear. Admittance into the gates of Hell is intolerable and punishable by death in Tartarus!"

Persephone realized who owned the tired speech… it was Charon, the loyal ferryman. She had not even heard a lap of water that would indicate she was at the shore of the River Styx and perhaps it was for that very reason Persephone had found herself in its shallow depths so easily the last time. Not knowing what else to do but call out to the immortal boat man since the alternative was more than likely to have her facing the same consequences as before, Persephone cleared her sudden scratchy throat,

"I… I am here. I mean no harm, please let me explain."

A low growl met her ears as the man spoke again in a more bitter tone, "Come forward now so that I may look upon your face."

Still in complete darkness, Persephone slid her feet against the harsh rock floor and held her arms slightly outward in an effort to balance each step in the black atmosphere, "Please," she whimpered at an inaudible volume that only the most adept listeners could translate, "I need light to make my way."

"Foolish sun-lover… blind to everything in shadow. You strand yourself with ignorant slothfulness when your other senses should leave an over-abundance of awareness to your surroundings. Such incompetence should not be sanctioned to enter even this far." Charon mumbled but consented to her request as standing sconces burst to life with the familiar sound of a flame. The lighted torches extended the on either side of an impressive and ornate gondola, giving life to what appeared to Persephone as a never-ending pathway that must lead to the terrifying God she sought after.

Charon's figure was inverted and bent in position to start the so very familiar path from an eternity of rowing along the infamous river of souls. His impressive cloak was a charcoal gray and littered with a thick white dust along the hem. The garment made Persephone wonder if it had once been a striking black before the years of work had disguised its purity. Either way, it was still a masterpiece that left little to one's imagination of the strength beneath the folds. Hills and valleys starting from his lithe shoulders, down his arms, and to the translucent blue-white hands that held securely to his rowing staff was evidence enough of his devotion and unwavering service to his King.

It wasn't until she had fully inspected the ferryman that she gave her undivided attention to the rest of her surroundings. She wanted to scream in horror but was bereft of her vocal chords so she instead clapped her hands over her mouth and let the moment sink in. The cold wafts of air were the dead souls passing her by and now she found herself surrounded by a multitude that she could not count. The lifeless faces stared blankly ahead and all uniformly held their arms out to extend two large coins as was the price Charon consistently demanded if crossing to the afterlife and kingdoms that waited there was desired.

Persephone had an undesirable vision of what she must have looked like before Hades granted her life once more. A warm gratitude found its way into her heart for the Lord of the Underworld… maybe he was not what people believed him to be. She sent a silent thank you to Hades for his blessed mercy. There was no denying that the thought of being a part of the throng surrounding her now was absolutely terrifying and humbling. She would never complain another day in her life as long as she never had to see those lifeless forms, helpless to what awaited them. Persephone could only hope that if he actually had the heart to sacrifice one of his most loyal deities in order to grant her life again, then perhaps he was a fair judge to the souls that required assortment to Elysium, Asphodel, and Tartarus. Shuddering from the thought of the prison that encased the damned… the same one that held her Titan hostage with all the others, Persephone shook herself out of the vision and stared down at her bare feet that were now almost black.

Her mouth was dry but she spoke up anyways and kept her eye contact on the ground, "I.. um-I am sorry for d-disturbing—"

Charon hissed not unlike a viper and alarmed the frightened girl, "Apologies are manipulative tugs on weaker victims. You have no such effect on one such as I, you silly little child. Your pathway to your adulated sun shall be your exit guide. Get. Out."

Nothing ever sounded so tempting to Persephone but the reason she had come in the first place fueled her words, "I need to see Lord Hades. It is a matter of life and death."

"Are you trying to be sardonic? You mock my King, foolish mortal. Go while I still allow it. You try my patience." He straightened to his full height and pointed one long finger towards the entrance of the cave.

"You mistake me, Ferryman. I am the goddess Persephone, daughter of Demeter." She tried for the same effect as Charon by arching her back with pride in being of such noble blood but somehow she just wasn't doing anything but wounding herself.

Charon leapt out of the gondola, throwing his staff aside, and glided with such grace never before witnessed by Persephone and was, in less than a second, he was standing mere inches away, towering over her very short frame, "You are no goddess, vixen. You are not even a true immortal—if you actually had power or an entitlement, then your hands would not be bloodied by requiring a new life. How simple your mind is to think that you, a daughter of land, elicit the same treatment given only to those deities who have earned it. Or perhaps, you are entitled to request my preferment because you were revived with the life of the God you so selfishly sacrificed from the Underworld. Thanatos had every right to kill you stone dead… until my merciful King had to rectify your iniquitous desire to defile this kingdom and the rules that govern it!"

Thanatos. His name was legend but every person referred to him as Death on earth and Olympus. She was given his life so that she would not be another useless body in the crowd of dead souls, "I, I didn't know it was Than—"

"Do not think you are so extraordinary that Hades replaced your worthless body with life again because you somehow had an effect on him. The only reason you stand before me now was the threat of imminent conflicts and wars that would break out if your body were discovered by the Olympians, limp with death."

In the midst of his words, Charon had grasped the back of her neck and thrust her head upwards so Persephone had no choice but to watch the fabric of the man's hood quiver in anger but his face remained hidden. She had to do something before his grip tightened further, "I wish to see your King! I shall depart immediately once I have finished. Please take me across the river."

Not expecting her pathetic request to be heeded, Persephone shut her eyes tightly and awaited whatever was coming but nothing did. The blue veined hand that was wrapped up in her hair released its hold and retreated inside its owner's cloak. Out of pure instinct and a survival tactic that was more than tragic, her arms shot up to her head in cover and once the overbearing presence had stepped back some, she crouched down so quickly she could have mistaken it for collapsing and it might have been Daring to peek up at the angry ferryman, she cracked an eye open and saw just in the way he held himself together that he was disgusted. Why had he listened to her all of a sudden? There was no call for it.

It was not difficult to guess that he clenched his teeth in his next words by the sudden staccato hisses in his intonation, "My King has heard your pleas. He will come, though you do not deserve it."

For the first time since her arrival underground, the sound of turbulent water being disrupted filled the void and reverberated off the rocky walls. Was the Underworld only ever alive for Hades? Persephone's arms unintentionally broke the shield over her head as they fell to her side, scraping against the ground she sat upon. She hardly noticed her inconsequential wounds however because the louder and more violent the water became, which she was optimistic that it ensured the King's arrival and no other, another chain reaction followed that had Persephone's heart rate growing steadily faster. The flaming sconces were being put out one by one. It would be the darkness that hailed the arrival of the Lord of the Underworld, not the light.

How fitting it was that the Oracle had described the coming of such a King.

Redeem your transgressions and turn to the Dark that will ultimately lead to your light.

Well she was in the process of mending her mistakes with Ares, but she just desperately wished that the utter darkness filling the chamber again would not be something she would have to get used to if Hades agreed to help her.

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