Note from the authoress: I hope you will enjoy this chapter, which was based partially on my retelling of the Greek legend of Semele called Let Me Know Your Face; specifically the prologue.

The quotation and much of this chapter is based on Book 10 of Ovid's Metamorphosis, as well as Gluck's opera Orpheus and Eurydice. Reviews are always appreciated.

Enjoy.

The moment I pass through the gate I know that I cannot turn back. I have chosen to walk this road, one which no mortal has ever traveled, and only the power of my song and the strength of my love will help me in my quest. Beyond I glimpse nothing but a darkness deeper than anything I have ever known. For a moment my resolve wavers, and I wonder what madness has possessed me to seek my bride within the realm of death.

Firmly I banish such thoughts, choosing instead to recall the face of my beloved as she pledged herself to me only a few short hours ago. With every step my resolve strengthens, and the confidence which I have learned over years spent mastering every instrument of mortal and immortal realms fills me with a power unlike anything I have ever before experienced. Darkness is no longer my enemy, but a welcomed friend whose shadows will conceal me from unfriendly eyes. All is silent, save for the constant sound of water as it flows onwards to places beyond the circles of the mortal world. It gives me the inspiration I am seeking, as I raise my lyre and begin to play.

The music pours forth from me; in a way I have not known since my beloved's death, born of the soul deep need for her presence and laughter to once again fill my life. I narrow my focus, composing melodies of depth and complexity I have never dared to play before, thinking that neither gods nor mortals would ever wish to hear music born of sorrow. Even as I finally reach the fabled Stygian shore, I become aware of another melody, one which unconsciously I have woven into my music as a counterpoint to my grief. It is music which I suspect no mortal has ever heard before, for its notes offer tantalizing glimpses of the mysteries of death. I pause for an instant to listen, awed and humbled by the awful splendor of the music which this realm contains.

Is this what awaits every human soul the instant they leave their mortal body? This strange unearthly music which no instrument crafted by mortal hands could ever hope to imitate. I strain every sense to its utmost, longing to hear more of this realm's secrets. Ah if only I were blessed with the strength of Mnemosyne, I would devote all my faculties to recalling every precious note, for such music should never be kept for only the gods to enjoy. There are songs which speak of the struggle and terror and agony of slow death, of the pain of loss and fear of what waits ahead. And yet there are also melodies of such beauty that I find myself moved to tears. They promise peace and reunion, and an eternity where a soul may enjoy every pleasure.

Now I have no need to force my feet to obey me, for they seem to move of their own accord as if drawn by the siren call of eternity's song.

Countless souls seek to hold me back, ephemeral beings which bare little resemblance to the mortals that they once were. I cannot escape their company, for they are all about me, reaching out in mute appeal for something I cannot for the moment name

But at last I realize the terrible power of this realm. For this music is both curse and blessing, as it slowly seduces every soul into offering up all that they were in life, only to be made unwilling captives of eternity's song.

Though it is music far beyond the scope of mortal imagination, it offers neither peace nor comfort; instead it binds and entraps every soul, thus sentencing them to this dismal existence forever. This is far worse than the tales I learned long ago as a child, for they said nothing of this cruel torment, the bitter knowledge that once you enter Hades' kingdom all you once reveled in and held dear is irrevocably lost. I sense beneath every melody chords of raw hunger for what can never be reclaimed, and the desire to recapture even the smallest fragment of what mortals so often take for granted.

I must go on, though everything within me is urging me to linger, so that I might take back with me to the mortal world even the smallest remnant of this music. Once again it is the face of Eurydice which is my shield against this subtle danger, and with renewed purpose I continue my journey. At last I approach the gates of Hades' palace, and before I can request admittance they open silently upon a pillared courtyard. I ignore the splendor of my surroundings, choosing instead to wonder how I might phrase my request to the ruler of this dark kingdom.

When first I set forth upon this quest I thought to simply present my case, arguing that my Eurydice's thread had been severed unjustly, and that as a son of great Apollo I should be granted safe passage through the kingdom of the dead. But I know better now. I might draw upon the strength of my heritage for inspiration and courage, but I must address Hades and his queen with respect and the deference due their position.

So when at last I reach the throne room where countless souls await their turn to be judged, I approach and bow with deep respect. With the ease born of long practice I once again take up my lyre, knowing that this performance will determine not only my future, but the destiny of my beloved. I call to mind the epics of great bards, knowing that their works will serve as inspiration for the song I am about to sing. My voice falters on the first few notes, but soon gains in strength as I present my petition in the hope that I will somehow win my bride's freedom.

"Ye Pow'rs, who under Earth your realms extend,

To whom all mortals must one day descend;

If here 'tis granted sacred truth to tell:

I come not curious to explore your Hell;

Nor come to boast (by vain ambition fir'd)

How Cerberus at my approach retir'd.

My wife alone I seek; for her lov'd sake

These terrors I support, this journey take.

She, luckless wandring, or by fate mis-led,

Chanc'd on a lurking viper's crest to tread;

The vengeful beast, enflam'd with fury, starts,

And thro' her heel his deathful venom darts.

Thus was she snatch'd untimely to her tomb;

Her growing years cut short, and springing bloom.

Long I my loss endeavour'd to sustain,

And strongly strove, but strove, alas, in vain:

At length I yielded, won by mighty love;

Well known is that omnipotence above!

But here, I doubt, his unfelt influence fails;

And yet a hope within my heart prevails.

That here, ev'n here, he has been known of old;

At least if truth be by tradition told;

If fame of former rapes belief may find,

You both by love, and love alone, were join'd.

Now, by the horrors which these realms surround;

By the vast chaos of these depths profound;

By the sad silence which eternal reigns

O'er all the waste of these wide-stretching plains;

Let me again Eurydice receive,

Let Fate her quick-spun thread of life re-weave.

All our possessions are but loans from you,

And soon, or late, you must be paid your due;

Hither we haste to human-kind's last seat,

Your endless empire, and our sure retreat.

She too, when ripen'd years she shall attain,

Must, of avoidless right, be yours again:

I but the transient use of that require,

Which soon, too soon, I must resign entire.

But if the destinies refuse my vow,

And no remission of her doom allow;

Know, I'm determin'd to return no more;

So both retain, or both to life restore."

I continue my song, driven to an eloquence and complexity of composition which I know I will never be able to duplicate once I have returned to the world above.

Only when death's lord and lady turned towards me at last do I realize the astonishing power of my petition. For within their gazes is something I thought never to glimpse in the faces of divine beings who consider mortals of little importance.

Compassion and yes, the unmistakable flicker of understanding briefly graces the stern countenance of the lord of this realm. Encouraged by this response I continue to play. For what seems like hours I let my music tell its own story, unaware of anything save the need to once again hold my beloved. At last I strike the final chord and lower my instrument, unable to sing another note.

It is only then that I become aware of the silence, not only within the throne room, but throughout Hades' entire kingdom. A silence which is at last broken by the sound of the voice I love more than anything else in the world.

"Orpheus."