Wonderful. I take Greek, and that sounds engaging... 

For names: Pandora, Ara, Abellona, Katla, Rhea, Anastasia

Hope this helps! (Yeah, I know a lot about Greek mythology, but I'm loads better with names from Ireland, [used to live there--in Cork!] so, Ireland, Norway, and Russia, and some other Austrian-ish names...Heidi, Liesle,). Hey, if you ever do Norway: Sonia/Sonja/Sonya, Helene, Nina, Kate, Kirsten, and a few boy ones--Tor, Bjorn, Knut, Sven, Lars.  

That story sounds good. I'm writing one as well. Well, actually much more than one. I have tons of stories. A new story pops into my brain every day, and I can't stop writing. If I don't put my idea on paper quick, I'll forget about it! Your story seems awesome! Good luck with it!

Okay, I finally got around to writing more! Tell me what you think! Just for a reminder, Corinna is being led tothe palace of Lord Hades. We start with a description of the palace:

It was dreadfully terrifying, seeming to loom malevolently, leering at me as I approached. As appropriate in a world of black, white, and gray, this tomb was made of gray stone, seemingly carved out of the cliff behind it, seamless and smooth. It reminded me of a protruding tooth, gray with age, unwanted and soon to be yanked away. (No? Oh well, at least I tried. Really though, sometimes you mortals are so dull.) My musings were interrupted by a tug on my arm from Primus; I realized that I had been standing still, slack-jawed as I stared at the monstrosity. We continued. Into the castle, through corridors of impenetrable black, the color of hopelessness, the only color around the castle except tombstone gray. Past grimacing gargoyles and demons, harpies and naiads, liars and tricksters. Before I realized, Primus grabbed my arm (again), and spun me into the throne room of Lord Hades, Emperor of Tartarus, King of the Dead.

“Good Evening, Corinna,” said Lord Hades. He was rather imposing, with a gray beard and matching cloak and robe. (I don’t mean that the beard and cloak and robe matched, I mean the cloak and robe matched. Just checking. Really, you mortals can be quite slow.) I searched for a suitable reply.
“How do you know that it is evening, my lord?” I attempted a curtsy, and ended up balancing precariously, frantically avoiding a collision with the ground.
He appeared not to notice as he replied, “I know a great many things. I know of the 15 young children in great danger of death by drowning in a deep lake, much deeper than they believe. I know of the old widow who just pricked her finger on a needle that she borrowed from a jealous neighbor, who poisoned the tip with the saliva of a satyr. I know of —”
I know that this sounds rude, but I sort of dozed off there. I mean, he was just prattling on and on about the demise of random people who I didn’t know. I’m not cold-hearted, to talk about people dying so calmly. It’s just that death in the Land of the Dead is like a candle going out when dosed with water. Also, the way that god talked about death, you would think that he was talking about his favorite birth-day present. Anyway, while I was wandering around aimlessly in my mind, Lord Hades brought me back to the present time and place with and abrupt jolt.
“… I also know of your true parentage.”
What? If I had still been of flesh and blood, my neck would have snapped with the speed and force with which I turned to look at him. My manners forgotten, I demanded “What? What do you mean? I know who created me, who makes up my bloodline! My father, Pyrrhus, and my mother, Helena, are my parents and caretakers! How could it be otherwise? How dare you suggest it could be otherwise!” I was so enraged by the thought, I could have sworn that steam came out of my nostrils.
The look Lord Hades gave me was gentle yet firm. “That is what your mother told you. That is what she believed to be the truth. It is not. You are the offspring of an immortal. He came to your mother in the form of a serpent.” (You know what happened next, so I will spare you the details. If you don’t, close the book, have your older and wiser guardian place it on a high shelf that you can’t reach, and come back in a few years.) “You are of his line. Indeed you are the first he has created.” He broke off suddenly and gazed solemnly into my eyes. I refrained from shuddering. His eyes were blacker than the walls, with no pupils that I could distinguish. Very slowly, he said, “This immortal was no satyr or monster. The immortal was a god, whose golden ichor flows in your veins. You are the descendant of the immortal who possesses the Helm of Darkness. You are my child, daughter of Lord Hades, Emperor of Darkness, King of the Dead, Lord of the Underworld, and I recognize you, Corinna, as my daughter and sole descendant.”
He broke off as I executed a flawless swoon and fainted at his feet. The feet of my birth father, Lord Hades of the Underworld, of the three most powerful Gods in the Universe.

Copyrighted by Megan, on Monday, December 29, 2008.