by James Welsh
But while triumph came with her climb out of the sleeping volcano, Persephone was met with only frustration as she began her trip towards Olympus. Even though Olympus could be seen from the volcano itself – the mountain of the gods looming in the distance as a giant’s shadow – the journey was still forever. Along the way, Persephone passed by villages of invisible people. She felt bizarre not being able to see the mortals through her cap of invisibility. She could only assume that the citizens were going about their daily business, unaware that an invisible goddess had just run past them. Persephone felt the urge to rip the leather headband from her hair and rush to the nearest temple, where she could pray for rescue from one of the Olympians. But, even with her newfound bravery from the climb out of the pit, Persephone knew better. She had a feeling that Hades was awake by then, shook out of his winy sleep. And so, if Persephone revealed herself to the Olympians above, she would also reveal herself to Hades below – and that was the last thing she wanted to do.
Still, she had to find a way to reach Olympus soon, or at least communicate with one of the gods. There were forces at work that she did not understand, at least not at that moment: there was Zeus’ horrific punishment, Hades’ feverish excitement, and the cloud of shades in the Underworld, a cloud that was becoming denser by the moment. It was a massive problem, and yet so few knew the secret. More had to know.
And that was when she heard it. It was low at first, softer than a whisper, but as it got loud, it became clearer, like swatting your hand at the fog.
“Persephone, Persephone, Persephone,” the gliding voice cooed.
The goddess froze, terrified. Who could see her through her invisibility? She spun around, but saw nothing but the forest in all directions. She could see nothing but trees and blankets of leaves, because all of the deer and wolves and boars were invisible to her. And she could see no human mortals, no gods or goddesses. She was completely alone – she should have been completely alone.
“Persephone, don’t be frightened, it’s me.”
“Who are you?” Persephone asked, breathless. “How can you see me?”
“You can see the forest, can’t you?”
Persephone didn’t answer.
“If you can see the leaves, then you can see me,” the voice continued.
At that, the leaves in front of Persephone began to toss and turn, even though there was no wind, the rest of the forest silent and still. Persephone watched, marveling, as the leaves spun quickly in a tight circle, gradually moving upwards. As the leaves spun up, there were leaves left behind, forming the rough outline of feet, then legs, then a waist, then arms. It reminded Persephone of a statue being cut from marble. When the whirlwind of leaves reached slightly above Persephone’s height, the wind died and a few, leftover leaves fluttered to the ground. Before Persephone, there was a silhouette of a woman – at least, she thought it was a woman – made entirely of the leaves. Shocked, Persephone fell backwards in the soft soil.
The woman of leaves appeared to smile and said softly, “My dear Persephone, don’t you know who I am?”
“I-I-I…” Persephone tried to find the words, but only awe came out.
“I’m your ancestor,” the woman of leaves said as she stooped down to help up Persephone. For being made of leaves and air, the woman was remarkably strong.
“My ancestor?” Persephone said, not believing that she was related to fallen leaves.
The woman nodded. “I’m your ancestor. I’m everyone’s ancestor.”
Persephone was silent for a few moments, then she understood. She breathed, “Gaia.”
Gaia, the goddess of life, nodded.
“I don’t understand,” Persephone said slowly, walking around Gaia, expecting to see some magic. “How are you…?”
“Made of leaves?” Gaia offered. “Oh, my darling, I’m made of much more than that. I’m made of the leaves, the trees, the fields, the marshes, the ponds. I’m the seed of life – I’m the seed of everything beautiful.”
Persephone saw Gaia, but she still couldn’t understand. None of the other gods and goddesses had ever seen her. They had spoken of Gaia many times over dinner as if she was a myth. But here was a woman formed of leaves, talking to Persephone, claiming to be the Mother Goddess, the beginning of life.
Persephone began to find her words. “You, you should not be real.”
Gaia smiled widely. “I only make myself real when I need help.”
“You need my help?”
“Yes. You’re running from your Uncle Hades. I know why.”
“You do?”
Gaia nodded solemnly. “Your uncle and I have never been fond of one another. And why not? He loves death and I love life. He is there when my forests burn down, and I am there when the saplings grow out of the ash. I have sensed something, something terrible from the Underworld. I have never sensed this power before, and I’m afraid of what Hades is planning to do with it.”
Suddenly, Persephone remembered what she was doing. “Oh, it is terrible! Hades has Lord Zeus trapped in the depths of the Underworld! And there is a cloud of shades that is growing on the shores of the River Styx. I don’t understand why the shades grow like that.”
“I know about Zeus,” Gaia said matter-of-factly. Persephone realized that Gaia must have been present when Zeus died in the mortal world, because Gaia was everywhere. “But the cloud of shades, this is something new.”
Gaia looked troubled – she twisted her leafy hair in her fingers – Persephone watched as a few of the leaves fell to the ground.
Persephone asked, “You said you needed my help?”
“Oh, yes! I need your help, child, as much as you need mine. Hades is planning something dangerous, and I cannot let him win this time. He is beginning to understand too many things about himself. I’m afraid that he could bring the entire world down now if he wanted. We will need to let the Olympians know – they are our only defense against the troubles in the Underworld.”
“But what about you?” Persephone asked. She was confused, because she thought that Gaia, the mother of life, was strong enough to stop death.
“Oh, my child, my dear child, if only I could! But what would I be, if I killed someone? If I even made someone bleed? I can only make the world grow – I cannot take anything away. I’m not…him.”
She pointed beneath their feet – Gaia didn’t say the name, but Persephone knew she was talking about Hades.
“But I can help you, though,” Gaia said, seeing the disappointed look on Persephone’s face. “You need to reach Olympus soon, and I know just the way you can do it.”
Gaia turned her head to the side, stuck two leafy fingers in her mouth, and whistled impossibly. The sound drenched the forest all around the two goddesses. Even after a few seconds, Persephone could still hear the whistles in the distance, echoing off a thousand tree trunks. Finally, she asked, “Who did you call for?”
Gaia smiled. “You can take off that cap of yours. You have nothing to fear now.”
Reluctantly, Persephone did as the Mother Goddess asked and took off the cap of invisibility. As she did, a world alive with birds and rabbits snapped into view around her. She was connected with the world again, and the rush of senses scared her, then it excited her. But then, she heard a sound of twigs breaking, of grass rustling. She spun in a circle, frightened. Did Hades already know where she was? Had she made a terrible mistake by taking off the cap?
But then, the bushes parted and a beautiful horse leapt into the clearing with Persephone and Gaia. The stallion was darker than night, his eyes whiter than the moon, his bared teeth faster than shooting stars. Persephone stumbled backwards a bit as the horse snapped at her. She was so startled that it took her a moment to realize that the horse wasn’t trying to bite her – it was trying to talk to her.
“Persephone, I am at your service,” the horse said, kneeling and bowing its head gracefully.
Persephone turned
to Gaia, searching for answers. Gaia laughed lightly and said, “Persephone, I want to introduce you to Arian, the fastest horse in the world.”
Arion’s title wasn’t what impressed Persephone. The amazed goddess asked instead, “He can talk?”
“I can talk better than any human,” Arion snorted proudly.
Gaia patted Arion on his long head, “Now, now, we barely have enough time for introductions. Arion, I need you to take our guest here to Olympus, as quickly as you can. The whole world depends on your gallop. Can you do this, if not for me then for the world?”
“I will do anything for you, my Queen,” Arion spoke, “because I see no difference between you and the world.”
Gaia helped Persephone onto Arion’s back. As Persephone steadied herself on top of Arion, she looked down at the leafy goddess and asked, “Will I ever see you again?”
Gaia smiled and said, “You have always seen me, and you will always see me. Hold on tight – Arion waits for no one.”
Persephone gripped Arion’s neck tightly. The horse reared his head and roared more than neighed, and then the world blurred. It took a few seconds for Persephone to realize that they were moving, the horse was so fast. The forest around them blurred like colors of paint mixing together, and Persephone saw colors that she had never seen before. This must be what an artist feels like, Persephone thought.
Olympus grew larger by the second, until the mountain chewed up the horizon. They were approaching a shimmer of blue, one of the many lakes that sat at the foot of the great mountain. Persephone realized with a shock that she just got on Arion’s back a minute before. In a minute’s time, the horse had run what it would have taken Persephone hours, even days to walk. Persephone was so surprised by Arion’s quickness that she didn’t understand until it was too late: they were going to go into the lake.
“Arion, watch out!” Persephone yelled over the intense wind.
Either the winds were too loud, or the horse was ignoring her, but either way, Persephone’s warnings went unheard. She gripped the horse’s mane tightly, expecting them to dive into the water. She closed her eyes and braced for the impact of the icy lake water. After a few moments of feeling nothing, Persephone carefully opened one of her eyes and realized that they were actually on top of the lake itself. Arion ran so fast that his hooves barely touched anything – they were practically flying.
Then, the lake was behind them, and Arion began leaping up the mountain. Horizontal turned vertical, and Persephone screamed in horror as she held onto Arion’s mane, her feet dangling. Arion was so lost in his run that he didn’t realize he was going up a sheer wall of rock – he also didn’t realize that there was someone holding onto him for dear life. But thankfully for Persephone, that dash straight up the mountain only lasted seconds.
Then, the run stopped altogether. The blur came into focus immediately as Arion halted, his hooves digging deep grooves into the rock. Persephone didn’t stop as easily though; she flew some feet ahead of Arion, her momentum stopping only when she hit a boulder. Persephone groaned as she slid and collapsed to the ground a few feet beneath her. She couldn’t bruise that easily, but the stop jarred her senses loose. As she slowly stood up and shook the dust off her, Persephone said to Arion, “Thank you for running me here, but you could have stopped a bit easier.”
Arion huffed, “I’m sorry, but I’m not used to people riding on my back.”
Persephone looked around and realized that they were on a ledge thousands of feet up in the air. In front of her, the ground simply ended, the ledge giving way to a nine-thousand foot drop to the ground far below. Behind her, the mountain rose even further. Persephone turned and looked; just a bit higher, she could see one of the walls of the palace poking out from the mountaintop. She was back home.
She turned back to Arion, wanting to thank the horse for his help, but the noble stallion was already gone. Alone once more but not for long, Persephone took her joy with her as she began the short climb to where the palace sat. She should have been anxious: not only was Hades planning something terrible far beneath her, but she should not trust the gods that reigned above her. She had lived amongst them for too long; she knew that at least one of them would have to be working with Hades. Persephone would be disappointed if the Olympians didn’t live up to their trickery. And someone had to be working with Hades – as powerful as the Lord of the Dead was, he alone wasn’t strong enough to bring about Zeus’ death. Who were the conspirators? Was it Ares, who hated everyone? Was it Hera, who was always jealous of Zeus and his affairs? Was it Apollo, who loved order as much as he hated Zeus’ carefree rule?
There was an upside to there being so few to trust, though – Persephone could easily remember their names. There was her mother Demeter, of course, but a mother’s trust is a given. And, for all the power that Demeter had, she was far too weak to challenge Hades. There was one whom Persephone could trust – there was one whom Persephone knew could fight Hades. Athena was the reason why Persephone climbed towards the palace, unafraid.
Book 10
