Hades and Persephone

Chapter 3

Persephone

"Eat more rice! I could snap you like a chicken," Mother cried from the kitchen. I rolled my eyes, ignoring her as I pulled on a jacket.

"Going to the meadow!" I shouted back, rushing to the door, gathering my items as I went.

"Don't forget your phone!" my mother screeched.

"I won't!"

"Make sure the ringer is on and turned up!"

"I will!"

"And bring a friend!"

"I know!"

"And make sure you're back by--

"Love you Mom! Bye!" I slipped out the door, walking quickly down the stairs, hoping she wouldn't run after me again. Dumping the jacket on the porch chair, I hurried my way out of the garden, making sure to close the gate.

Our house sat at the base of Mount Olympus, the home of the gods. Mother wished for me to live far from our relatives' antics, but as Demeter, goddess of the harvest, she had duties to attend. She settled us in a small cottage near the valley, where I grew up perfectly safe and completely secluded from the world. We never traveled, and my only interaction with the world was through the internet, which she monitored through a helicopter-parent app, and neighboring farmers who seemed to only know about crops. As much as I respected my mother, I could not find it in myself to understand why she would hide the world from me.

On the rare occasion, Mother would leave me to roam the fields and forest near our home. It was days like today, when I managed to bully her into letting me out, that I felt like I was truly living. There was no indescribable weight pushing on my chest. I was free to do what I wished, within reason, without her watchful eyes chasing me as I went. Breathing in the sun-warmed air, I ran through the fields of wheat and wildflowers to the forest across the valley.

Hades

I slipped out of the shadows and into the outskirts of Mount Olympus. According to ancient laws, I was not allowed to enter the City of the Gods except for the Winter Solstice or an arrangement by Zeus. Seeing as neither of those were the case, I chose to stay at the base of the mountain. I spent the day wandering the cobble stone streets, passing shops and carts. Even outside the city, this district of Olympus was bustling with life. Satyrs and nymphs ambled along, passed by minor gods. Everything was sold here, from meat to magical items, tapestries, the newest smart phones, and pottery. I even passed a forge displaying shining broad swords. Many shoppers gave me odd looks, likely from my tall, demanding form and black hoodie in the middle of the spring, but I ignored them, content to soak in the life of the market.

The sun was barely a hand from the horizon when I headed into the forest just past the edge of the city. I had just entered the thicket of the forest when I saw her.

Kneeling in a clearing, a young woman reached her hand out to a small rabbit that bounded towards her on an injured leg. Shafts of buttery sunlight filtered through the tree canopy, highlighting her auburn waves. She took the animal into her hands and rose to her feet. As she did so, the grass and the trees seemed to sway in her presence. In fact, the entire forest seemed to be more alive around her. Flowers bloomed in vibrant shades, littering the forest floor like stars in the sky. Songbirds poured their music into the warm air, and a few nymphs slipped from the trees to watch her. Honestly, it looked like some sappy Disney movie Aphrodite would be into.

"You're alright, little thing," she whispered to the rabbit. The small creature looked up at her, his nose twitching. She brushed a finger along its leg, power sparkling faintly, before she set it down. With a final sniff, the furry rodent bounded into the thicket, its leg completely healed.

I was debating whether I should approach her when a woman barked in the background, calling the girl home. Her head snapped up and for a moment I was frozen in place. Her eyes were of the brightest green, like fresh fields of grass. She had full, rosebud lips and her cheeks were flushed with color. She stared out into the forest, but I was no more than a shadow to her. The woman shrieked again, and I faded into wisps of darkness.