Chapter 2

The Underworld

As Orpheus made his way towards his room, he began to think. Why were his parents making him marry at the age of 19? And why must he leave tomorrow? He, of course, was used to his parent's abrupt decisions and, sometimes, rash actions, but this quite possibly was the strangest of them all. But he knew his father had gone to talk to the fates shortly before his mother arrived back in the Underworld. Most sudden changes came after he had consulted them. While Orpheus himself had never had to visit the three sisters, he knew that his father never enjoyed it and did not envy him in the slightest.

He opened his door and immediately went over to lie on his bed. With just a snap of his fingers, a dark red fire blazed to life. He sat up slowly and began to walk over to his vanity and looked at his reflection. It would be easy, he knew, to attract women with his looks. All gods had a natural quality that made women notice them in a crowd. While his skin didn't have the tan, glowing property as his friend Apollo did, Orpheus's skin still was pleasant, if somewhat pale and he was thankful that he had inherited his father's dark hair. His eyes were a bluish-green, like something one would see in Poseidon's Palace. During the annual feast on Mount Olympus, he was often complimented on his bright smile.

But while he knew women found him attractive, he did not take advantage of it. It still embarrassed him when he was complimented on his looks, and he stayed away from the goddesses who often chased him. The nymphs held no attraction to him and most human women seemed, frankly, dull.

Orpheus began to unfasten his sword from his waist. Normally, he did not carry it, but his father had called him in immediately after practice and he had no time to change. Next, he slowly took off his robe and untied his traditional black sandals. His muscles were well defined on his arms and abdomen, one of the few things he was proud of on his body. He turned slightly to examine the light scar that ran down his side which came from the day he had challenged his mother to a duel. Not only had she managed to disarm him, but had cut him with his own sword. To add insult to injury, his sword instructor and his father had been there to witness. This was three years ago and both his powers and fighting skills had improved greatly since that time.

After he had stored everything in its proper place, he donned his black, silk sleeping pants. He knew he would not need to pack anything because, when he got wherever his parents were sending him, he could create whatever he needed.

"Orpheus?"

Orpheus turned around to look at his mother. He smiled slightly and looked her up and down. Her hair was in disarray and she had on a light pink night gown.

"Yes?" said Orpheus.

"I just wanted to make sure that you were ready for tomorrow. Earth can be very…different."

"Hecate has taught me much of the ways of humans. I'll be fine. The only thing I must work on is the dialect of those around me," he said with a smile. He always missed his mother when she was away with his grandmother and, while he knew it may be childish, was upset that he had to leave her so soon after she returned.

"Yes, yes you will," she said as she made her way to sit on his bed as she used to when he was a child. "Your father has enrolled you in a university. You will be sure to meet someone there. And you should know all of the material they will attempt to teach. Now, you must sleep, my son. For, I hope, that this will be the last night that you will be alone in this bed."

A/N: Isn't Persephone just the sweetest mother? So supportive of her son and all. Remember, reviews are appreciated!