Chapter 1:

Crisis in the Cathedral

Forgive Me Father- A Greek Mythology Story

Dahlia had always been prone to falling. Down stairs, up stairs, anywhere she could. However, none of her previous experiences could prepare her for falling straight into the depths of Hell.

No, this is not an exaggeration. On a cold winter night, Dahlia and Lydia found themselves tumbling down an infinite abyss, straight towards Tartarus. Darkness surrounded her like an invisible pressure, threatening to crush them. But at least they weren’t falling alone, right?

Lydia had never been one to make the first move. Quiet and reserved, she felt like an observer in her own life story. When Dahlia had suggested that they hang out for her 16th birthday, she was stunned. Excitement bubbled up in her like boiling hot water as she squeaked out a small ‘okay’.

The excitement soon died down when she realized others were coming. But why wouldn’t they? It’s not like the other girl felt the same way towards her. Nobody did. In fact, she was disgusted by the fact she’d even considered, just for a second, that Dahlia had implied they do something as more than friends.

But as she caught a glimpse of the other girl, just for a moment as the two fell together, she felt that same bubbling feeling. Friends don’t look at friends that way.

The girls hit the ground with a thud. Their hands screamed in agony as they came in contact with the hot coals making up the ground. In every direction, that was all you could see.

It was Dahlia who took the lead. She picked a direction and stuck with it, while Lydia had no choice but to follow blindly. This…was not what she’d imagined Hell to be like. Then again, she’d never imagined the gods were real, but here they were. In her fathers domain.

“If you could help us out here, that’d be pretty great!” Lydia called out weakly. As if out of spite, a small fire started at her feet. “Thanks, dad.” She mumbled.

Dahlia had to hold back a laugh. That little moment of contact that Lydia had with her father was more than she’d had in her entire life. Meanwhile, Dahlia just couldn’t seem to escape Zeus. He was always there, always criticizing.

Hell, he’d even criticized her choice to go on this quest. Stating she owned nobody anything. Except that wasn’t true. She owed it to *herself* to go on this quest. To find out who she was. Spend time with a pretty girl and maybe, just maybe, find some relief from the world inside her head.

The coals gradually morphed into a small stone path, leading to a cathedral. Dark, and gothic, yet something about it drew the girls in. It felt…sacred. Holy, even. Lydia got the sudden urge to cross herself, to drop to her knees and pray.

That’s when Hades showed up.

“Father-” Lydia mumbled, fidgeting with her necklace.

“Disappointment.” He responded, keeping a straight face.

Dahlia cracked a shy smile and caught Lydias eye. It was almost like…

*No.* She told herself firmly. That’s not what they were here for. Just when she’d gotten over panicking at the disco, she now had to crisis at the cathedral.

Hades seemed to sense his daughters distress, and gave her a harsh glare. Beneath the steely gaze was an undertone of sympathy that quickly faded to disgust. She lowered her eyes to the stone floor once again.

“You came.” The god observed after a moment.

“We couldn’t ignore the prophecy, lord Hades-” Dahlia stuttered. She had a slight smile, a jittery air about her as she addressed him.

“Oh, but many do, young hero.”

“Respectfully, we’re not like the others.”

“I suppose not.”

Lydia interrupted their little moment. “We need your help.” She got straight to the point.

Hades leaned back, observing the girls. “With what?”

“We were sent to retrieve something. Something that supposedly will bring peace to Olympus.”

“Nothing can bring peace, at least not for long. Those fools-”

She cut off the inevitable, long-winded rant about the Olympians.

“Regardless, we either retrieve it, or die trying.”

“Well, my dear…it’s a difficult choice, certainly.” He muttered, gripping her hand in his own. The color drained from her face in an instant, and she gasped. “But not if I make it for you.”