Persephone entered the underworld with Hades by her side. She expected brimstone and fire, but was met instead with rolling green hills and a sky as blue as a clear spring morning. They were standing next to a trickling river that was picking up depth downstream. Beyond the hills was a mountain range, one of the peaks towering in the sky above all the others.
“Elysian Fields,” Persephone says in awe, squeezing Hades’ hand.
He looks down at her, pleased to see her fearful expression from before had finally vanished. He nods, then points at the tallest peak, “That one is ours.”
“Where’s the firey bits?” She asks him.
He laughs. He doesn’t want to talk about that part yet, not while that beautiful smile is plastered all over her face.
