Torn Apart

In The Dark Count Mistakes

He studied the leaves of the rose bush he knelt by. Though he couldn't place it next to the memory of any other rose, he knew with certainty that he'd never seen anything as green as this leaf. In the same breath, there was no other growing thing in existence greener than the leaf right next to it, including the leaf he had first looked at. Each leaf somehow embodied the entirety of the hue in ways that threatened to unravel the edges of his mind, but he was drawn to inspection by something else about the bush.

Every stem rose in a perfect arc, almost parenthetical, to curve out and back in from base to bloom, forming an oval. The roses themselves stretched gloriously wide and vibrant, not a single petal sagging or out of place.

It was the third such plant he had inspected in the endless garden, waiting for Demeter to return. Every color and hue screamed to the very edge of itself in this place, and his anxiety grew with each inspection.

This place was all wrong. He didn't know why this was so, but even the ground warned him. Not one of the hundreds of thousands of blades of grass under his feet was a different length than the others.

He had no memory to draw on. No left arm. No clothes of his own except the stupid toga. And somehow he was a mortal on Demeter's property. If he couldn't remember what happened, maybe he could figure out what he needed to know by observation. Demeter was terrifying to watch, but she had emotion and facial expressions. Not quite like a human, but there were still things he could figure out.

She was proud, certainly. Orderly in the extreme. She was planning something, and by the looks of it had been planning for a long time. Her daughter was a source of frustration, but also pride. She didn't like Hades... the name briefly conjured an image of a gray skinned man with blue flaming hair, but it vanished before he could lock onto it.

"There you are."

The voice still sent shivers down his spine. There was no denying even her words held some kind of power. But, then, his must as well. "Have we swallowed some birdsong, Orange?" Whatever she meant, he guessed something about his voice gave him the will to choose against a direct command from her, casual though it was. He hoped he wouldn't have to test it further.

He rocked back, pushing up to his feet from a squat. Demeter approached, followed by the girl he had seen upon waking. Straight as a column, her shoulders spread about as thick as one too. Her torso tapered in at the waist before spreading out again. Golden hair had been bound in thick braids that wrapped around her scalp. She smiled at him, her eyes flat and her hands folded at her waist.

She was large, but every bit as human in appearance as Demeter was not. What was the property of a deity's physical appearance in this place?

Demeter turned to her daughter and took her hands, holding them and speaking in a voice too low for him to-

No. He could hear. He shouldn't be able to hear, but he did.

"Remember, Persephone. You must be strong. It is only six months. Endure, my darling."

"I will, mother."

"I will go to my brother and speak to him again. Maybe he will change his mind."

Persephone's eyes glistened, her smile wavering. Demeter cupped her face gently. "Don't lose hope. Someday you will not have to go to him. I swear."

Persephone only nodded, silent.

Demeter turned, and he shifted his eyes to study the tree over their heads, as if that was what he had been watching all along.