Seeds Volume 3

by M. M. Kin

  Assured that her friend was paying attention, Persephone closed her eyes and channeled her power into the water. A tendril of water rose from the pool and grew larger as it thickened, creating the form of an attractive young woman. Cyane's body defined itself further as finely formed fingers grew from her hands and her facial features became apparent even as the sun shone through her body. Details quickly became apparent, like her ears, eyelids, and nipples.

  “Kora? Is that really you?” Cyane asked. Her tone had a bubbly undertone, but her voice was sweet enough to make her words clear.

  “Yes.” Persephone held out her hands, shivering as cool water surrounded them. Cyane was ethereally beautiful, shaped in every detail a human female could be, yet she was no longer a creature of flesh. She almost looked as if she were made out of glass, light shining and refracting through her curves.

  Cyane looked down, noticing that fact, and curiosity flickered through her features before she lifted her hands to touch her face. For nearly a year she had been formless, unable to speak or cry out, or even to crawl out of the pond and make her presence known.

  “What is this?” the Naiad whispered as she examined herself. Persephone had been wondering what to say, but since the nymph had always been so honest with her in the past, she figured anything less than the truth would be unfair.

  “When Hades stripped you of your flesh, it died. I have been able to give you a new form, but it is no longer of bone and blood.”

  Cyane would never forget what Hades had done to her, but now she could talk again. She had despaired at being lost and forgotten, never to have anyone hear her pleas for help. After seeing Kora snatched away by the God of Death, she had imagined all sorts of terrible things happening, what kind of horrors there must be in the Underworld, and not being able to do a damned thing about it! She had tried so hard to communicate with Demeter, but to no avail.

  The nymph no longer had flesh, but after being virtually imprisoned in her pond with no means of communicating with anyone, she wasn't about to nitpick at the gift her friend had just given her.

  “Thank you, Kora! Thank you for not forgetting me!”

  “How could I forget my best friend?” Persephone smiled as Cyane approached the edge of the water with her arms held out. She let Cyane wrap her in a tight embrace, ignoring the water that was now soaking through her chiton. It actually felt nice amidst the thick, balmy atmosphere.

  o0o

  When Persephone contemplated her role as Queen of the Underworld and what she had gained since becoming Hades's lover, she could not help but recall the prophecy that the Fates had issued to her. She hadn't wanted to accept it any more than Mother had for the prophecy regarding her daughter, but as time revealed, the word of the Fates was inviolate.

  She could not help but be curious as to what her future would hold. Would she always be Queen of the Underworld? Would her relationship with Hades last? Were there to be any conflicts or serious trouble in her future? What if she received a terrible prophecy? Despite her morbid thoughts, her curiosity was overwhelming, so she gave in to these urges and paid the mysterious trio a visit.

  Her excitement was edged with trepidation, but she knew that the longer she put this off, the more curious and anxious she would become.

  The tapestry was as she remembered it, the threads ever-moving and shifting, reminding her of currents in a river. Klotho sat on the floor cross-legged, with spindle and distaff in hand. Persephone could not help but wonder what the cosmic material Klotho was spinning would feel like in her hands. Was it warm, or cool? Was it as soft as it looked?

  The youngest aspect of Fate was adorned in black, making her pale thread stand out in sharp contrast. Lakhesis wore gray, and Atropos was clad in white.

  “We have been expecting you,” Atropos intoned. Why doesn't that surprise me, Persephone thought wryly.

  “There are many questions on your mind.”

  “You would have us tell you what the future holds for you,” said Klotho.

  “Yes. What you told me before... it has come true, but then, we all know that. Yet I must know more. Will you answer my questions?” Persephone asked.

  “Yes, if you ask rightly.” Persephone wasn't sure which one of the Fates had said it, since they all sounded the same.

  “What does my future hold?”

  “As the seasons go on from winter to summer in an eternal cycle, so will you.”

  “Gods are born and they die, but you transcend the forces of life and death, which very few can claim.”

  “The love of your lord is something you never need fear losing.”

  Well, that is good to know, Persephone mused as she heard the last statement. In her short time as a full-fledged deity, she had seen and heard enough of the tumultuous relationships that deities could have with one another or with mortals. She eyed Atropos as the elder aspect of Fate cut several threads.

  “How do you find the time to maintain all these threads?” Persephone knew that there were countless living beings in the world, and after all her experience with weaving, she couldn't imagine spinning, measuring, and cutting thread for each and every one of them.

  “We exist outside of time,” came the singular response.

  Outside of time? Persephone suddenly realized that even though she couldn't feel life in this... place, wherever it was, she also couldn't feel the lack of it.

  Atropos beckoned to her, and Persephone drew closer, letting the Fate situate her in front of the grand tapestry that told the history of the universe and everything within it. There were no definable boundaries, and the pattern was ever-shifting, causing her to feel a bit dizzy. What was she supposed to be looking at?

  Atropos lifted a slender, bony hand and pointed to a spot. Persephone narrowed her eyes, seeing the threads of colors swirl around and shift before they slowed down, revealing a bit of black. What was it? She brought her face closer, focusing on that one area before it all came into focus.

  She could see it clearly – a black thread with a golden-rainbow glow – intertwined with a slightly thicker black thread that glowed deep blue and indigo. Though the Fates did not explain who these threads were supposed to represent, she knew immediately who they were for. Her eyes followed the threads, finding the beginning of her own thread, its end hanging separately from the indigo thread and touching a glowing golden-green one, representing the beginning of her life and childhood. As she followed the twist of her thread and Hades's own, she could see no end of them. She looked back at the Fates.

  “No one can violate the Great Tapestry.”

  “But it is how you meet your fate that determines your destiny.”

  “Rather than let circumstances overcome you, you overcame them.”

  She stared off thoughtfully, seeing countless threads within the design. Instead of turning Hades away, she had come to respond to his attention rather than spurn it - even though their relationship was not without its fights – and was now his queen and a powerful goddess in her own right. What would have happened had she continued to stubbornly resist Hades? If she had refused to embrace her new-found Gifts and instead used her time to pine for things taken from her, how would she be seeing the Underworld right now? Would she have ever seen the surface world again if she let bitterness dictate her actions?

  She had gained far more than she thought she ever would, simply by being open to new things. As she was about to speak, the tapestry vanished from sight, and when she blinked, she found herself back in the Underworld, in the same exact spot she had been when she left, on the terrace overlooking Hades's private garden.

  She descended the steps, approaching the flowers that Hades surrounded the garden with, their black-blue petals reflecting a dark iridescent sheen. It was easy to remember the first time she had seen one, when Hades placed it in a clearing of grass for her to find as she romped around the woods, oblivious of her fate. She reached down to touch one, feeling the silken texture between her fingers and thumb as she realized tha
t the color was a match to the glow of Hades's thread.

  His eyes are also the same color, she mused as she plucked up a flower.

  o0o

  “Aidon...” Hades heard a whisper as he lay in bed, waiting for her to join him. He looked up, but the room was empty, and his lips curved in a faint smirk.

  “Come here...” He patted the area next to him, “There's no reason to hide from me.”

  “Really now?” He still couldn't see her, but her voice was closer.

  “Of course, my dear.” He patted the bed again, his tone dropping to a seductive rumble. “What do you have to be afraid of?”

  “Oh, I don't know...” Persephone replied teasingly, drawing closer but maintaining her invisibility.

  “Oh, come now.” His tone was playfully chiding, and he heard a quiet chuckle before the shadows melted away, revealing the fact that his wife was wearing a crown and matching collar braided of his favorite flower and nothing else. The blue-indigo hue of the petals was a rich contrast to her deep red hair and pale skin, and Hades found this incredibly alluring. He had never imagined that she would use his flowers in such a way... and he certainly had no objections.

  o0o

  Going back to Enna was a bittersweet experience for Persephone. She had deliberated over what she would do. Would she appear before her cousins, and how would she explain herself? Or should she let them be, and leave them to enjoy the rest of their mortal lives in peaceful bliss? Though Demeter was long gone, the valley that had once been blighted by Ouranos's thirst for vengeance remained prosperous, the goddess' residual magic keeping Enna safe.

  Thinking about how much she had missed Enna and the resentment she had felt when her mother uprooted her from her childhood home spurred Persephone to return to the place of her birth.

  Eurycleia was long dead, but her family lived on, now spanning five generations – something that was unheard of during the valley's centuries of blight. Having grown up with her cousins, it was funny to think of them as grandparents. Her uncles were now old men, sitting outside with a couple of other elders, sipping ale from mugs and watching their great-grandchildren run around and play games. Iasion's brothers had grown up amidst extreme hardship, and despite their age, would never forget their tribulations, giving them a greater appreciation for how idyllic their lives had become. Their children had grown up without having to worry about where their next meal would come from or if there would be enough firewood for the winter.

  Persephone was tempted to make herself visible and say hello to them, but she wasn't sure if they would recognize her. Everyone seemed so happy, so she was content to stand under the shade of a tree – one of the trees she had played under with her cousins – and watch Iasion's family.

  What would things have been like if her father hadn't died? She almost wished that Atropos had cut the thread of one of his brothers instead, but that was a petty thought. Death was death, no matter who it affected.

  She watched as Alestis – now a dignified and gray-haired matron – emerge from the well-kept house with a platter of dates and pita bread, setting it before her father and his guests.

  Enna had changed since she had been here last. What was once a village was now a prosperous town, bordering on a city. The buildings around the marketplace were larger and more impressive, and more houses dotted a landscape that was as verdant as she remembered it. The richness of the soil and vegetation ensured a healthy and prosperous population, and given time, this village could become a city-state as mighty as Thebes, Athens, or Sparta.

  In the grandchildren and great-grandchildren, she could see her uncles and cousins. One youth bore a striking resemblance to Iasion, and the surge of love and memory she felt was bittersweet.

  Satisfied that Iasion's family was happy and safe, Persephone was comfortable with returning to the Underworld, but she knew that she would be coming back to this place.

  o0o

  It had been nearly a century since the death of her husband, and Demeter still remembered him as if he had only been alive yesterday. She had had a couple of lovers through the years, and did remember them with affection – especially Triptolemus – but she had never truly loved anyone as she did Iasion.

  The people of Eleusis had been faithful supporters of her rites, performing them every year with the priestesses she had chosen. The original set had all died except for Melinoe, who was now an ancient crone, and head priestess of the order for the last few decades. The order was made up entirely of women... until now, potentially. Melinoe had detected a Gift in the youth that stood before her. He was tall and broad-shouldered, nearing twenty. Normally, men would not be allowed to join the Eleusinian Mysteries, but long ago, Demeter had ordered that anyone – male or female – with a Gift should be brought before her, and Melinoe had always obeyed her patron.

  If Demeter deemed fit, then Isokrates could become the first priest in the order. She had been priestess for so long that the thought of a male among their ranks was still a strange concept to her, but it was the goddess' decision.

  She felt Demeter's presence even though she could not see the goddess, and led the young man into the inner courtyard. The grass was warm under her fare beet, and when she came to a stop, she wiggled her toes into it. Lately, with her advanced age, she found sandals bothersome and went barefoot whenever the weather permitted.

  “Goddess, I bring you Isokrates, for your consideration.” She bowed, feeling the creak in her spine as she did so. She righted herself, seeing the rustle of the leaves, and smiled slightly. Though her body was riddled with the infirmities of old age, her eyesight remained clear. She shuffled back into the temple.

  Men had the capacity to be born with Gifts as well as women did, but the nature of their Gifts often ran in a different vein. This was clearly evinced among the Olympians when one compared the feminine Gifts to the masculine.

  Demeter immediately recognized a connection to Nature in this man's Gift – sometimes exceptions to the rule were good – and it pleased her. With the proper training, this man could be an excellent priest. She would have to test him, of course, to make sure he had the dedication and right kind of attitude needed for such an honored role.

  There was something oddly familiar about Isokrates, though Demeter knew she had never met this man before. She studied his face, taking in the particular features that comprised his expression. His traits were typical of a Hellenic man, with dark hair and eyes and a modest tan from the time he spent outside in the fields, and he couldn't be considered handsome or ugly, just plain-faced. Her attention moved to his eyes, and she felt a shiver pass through her very soul as she looked past them.

  Could it be... Yes, it was! Love and joy surged through her, and as if Isokrates sensed it, he smiled.

  o0o

  The city of Rome sat snugly on the Italian peninsula, a sprawling metropolis that exceeded any of the city-states that had existed in Hellas at the height of its power. Though writing was not as prevalent as it would be over two thousand years later, the Latins now had an well-established alphabet and system of writing that enabled them to keep records and communicate better with one another. Persephone remembered a time where important messages were brought by runners who had to memorize the exact words they had been given, and now these runners often bore scrolls.

  It was not until after the fall of Ilion – what would later be known as Troy – that the Hellenes developed and took advantage of the written word as much as they could have, giving rise to epic sagas like the Iliad, Odyssey, or the Aeneid, among other great classical works of literature. The myths of the gods, the legends of the heroes and the chronicles of kings were also written down, preserved for the rest of time even if not necessarily truthful or accurate.

  While Classical Greece was rebuilding itself after the dissolution of Mycenaean Greece and the destruction of Troy, Rome was establishing its own destiny, borrowing much of its early culture from Hellas and Tyrrhenia but eventually developing its unique identity.
/>
  Romans took what they found useful and innovated upon it, creating an empire that would last for centuries, eventually conquering Aigyptos and Hellas among other lands, spreading in all four directions in a way that no country had ever before. In its time, it truly was the mightiest empire known to man.

  “Last time I saw these seven hills, there weren't nearly as many people,” Hades commented as he stood atop the highest hill, looking down at the city.

  A thousand years ago, the thought of living for a century boggled Persephone's mind. She would listen to Hades's stories about the Titanomachy and how the Olympians had defeated the old order and enabled Hellas to prosper under the new. When she had first seen the grand cities of Hellas, ruled by powerful kings, she had a hard time imagining that they had once been tiny villages, and before that, great expanses of plains or woods yet to be populated.

  Now having seen how much the world and its people could change through centuries, she had a better understanding of how things happened, but it was still overwhelming at times to think about how things had once been, or what they could become. She had seen this place in Romulus's time, and wondered what the founder of Rome would think about the empire it had become.

  “It's almost hard to believe that this wouldn't exist without Ares or Aphrodite, hm?” Persephone asked with a sly smile as she glanced at her husband.

  “Who would have thought that their affairs could bring around something of value?” he remarked with a half-smile, “Although I have no doubt that lots of people would have been happier if your sister hadn't offered such a prize...”

  The Trojan War had brought about the end of an era in Greek history. With Aphrodite's offer of the most beautiful woman in the world – a woman who was already married to the King of Sparta – in exchange for a golden apple, she unwittingly exacerbated what had been meant to be a harmless joke by her daughter, Eris. With her thoughts set on an immediate reward, Aphrodite triggered a devastating chain of events that destroyed an age.