Chapter 25 Persephone
Persephone
I spend the remaining weeks on Olympus with my mother.
The mortals will now know true seasons and prepare for life as they should so they may have abundance in all ways.
It is a balance that it is new for us all.
But a beautiful balance indeed. In the fall there is slow death followed by a brutal winter.
In the spring, life returns and then flourishes.
The season seems to stretch. The green spring is slow to turn to summer, but once it does, the summer days linger. Sunrise comes early, and the days are long and hot. Many evenings, when I scry with Hades, I do so in the light of the sunset, not needing a fire at all.
I crave him every minute. Every hour. Every day. I desire to lie in bed with him and feel his lips against mine. Even more, I want to fall into pleasure with him. I am lonely for it, and so is he.
When he looks at me through the mirror, it is with longing in his gaze. He leans his hand on the frame and touches the glass, and I can tell he would give anything to cup my face.
I place my fingers to the mirror, too. I would give anything to twine our fingers together. Even to feel his warmth through the glass.
But I cannot, so I become very good at imagining it is there.
The days are long with much work to distract me, so many have heard whispers of my name and the prayers are constant. But the nights, when I lay awake in my bed, are consumed with my thoughts of Hades and my need for him. I am at peace with my judgment, and still I long for him.
So I have been waiting for six long months when my last night on Olympus arrives, and I wake to my last day on Olympus. When the sun sets and the moon rises, I will go back to the Underworld, accompanied by Hecate, the keeper of the keys, and there I will spend six cycles of the moon with Hades.
I wake knowing that it is time. The summer is coming to an end, and the auburn colors of the leaves warn the mortals to prepare for change.
The people may miss the long days, but they will welcome the longer nights and the chance to spend their evenings gathered close to the fire and go to bed early.
Six moon cycles, I think as I sit at my breakfast, eating a piece of bread with honey. There will be bread and honey in the Underworld, but it will not be the same.
Nothing will be exactly the same. That is part of the joy of going to the Underworld, and also part of the sorrow. I will miss things on Olympus. I will think of them with fondness.
But I will have my king.
“My queen,” Beatrice whispers, coming through the door of my rooms. I greet her with a solemn nod. Our time to part is nearly here.
There is very little to pack. I will take a few items with me, but the gowns I wear in the Underworld will be there waiting for me. I will carry only a few keepsakes with me.
My throat tightens as I place a carved crystal of a rose my mother gifted me the day after I made my judgment.
It’s made of garnet and the color reminds me of the pomegranate seeds, yet the flower reminds me of my mother’s love.
I put it out of my mind. Beatrice and I will walk in the garden and have tea.
We will talk about magic and practice together.
Then she will go, and I will have my evening meal with my mother.
The sun has been setting earlier recently, so I know it is almost time to begin the next series of moon cycles.
Tonight, the crescent before the new moon will rise sooner than it has in past cycles, and then…
Then I will go.
That is how the days have passed. A walk in the garden where I appreciate every petal and the intoxicating scent.
I cast blessings on Olympus and the mortal realm, and even bless my travel to come.
Last-minute prayers to Hecate to thank her for connecting the realms that I may have both my king and my mother.
I am ravenous for Hades. And…I feel trepidation at the thought of leaving my mother for six moon cycles. I know I will be all right. I will be well and happy and fulfilled with Hades, but I worry for her.
She is quiet through our meal together. The silver’s clinking and scraping against one another. We linger over sweets afterward, wine goblets in hand, until finally it is time to admit that the sun has set.
My mother keeps track of the moonrise out the window. There is not much to see with the new moon, but she can feel it. I know she will feel it every time it rises and sets while I am gone. She will be counting the days we are apart.
“Hecate will be here,” I say, putting down my glass. I gather my belongings, then go to my mother and wrap my arms around her. “Be well,” I say into her ear. “Do not worry for me.”
“I will worry for you, my daughter,” she answers, hugging me tighter. “That is what all mothers do. You cannot stop us.” She gives me another squeeze. “Endings are also beginnings,” my mother murmurs. “The Earth will rest, then grow again.”
“It will be in balance,” I say easily and note my mother’s calm.
“The stars have aligned themselves, Persephone.” My mother pulls back and looks into my eyes.
She smooths a lock of hair back from my face and smiles, though I can see tears collecting in her eyes.
She blinks them away for me. “My pain will be felt and shared but so will my hope and longing for your return.”
“It is a beginning,” I remind her, as she has just reminded me. “Please do not spend the next six moon cycles fretting about me.”
“It is what—”
“Promise me you won’t.” I take her hand and squeeze. “Promise me you will scry with me, and you will plan for the summer, and you will take it as a time to slow down and sit by the fire.”
“I may sit by the fire any time I want,” she says, her brow furrowing.
“More in the autumn,” I say. “Promise me.”
My mother kisses my cheek. “I promise.”
There is a loud crack, like the sky splitting open.
My mother gives me one last kiss on the cheek, then straightens up.
She looks proud, as the mortal mothers did on Earth when their children grew up and moved into their own homes.
They were always so proud for their children to take their places in life.
I hope my mother knows that I have already taken mine. That part of my place in life is here, with her.
If she does not know now, she will know in the spring.
“Hecate is here,” she says and swallows a lump in her throat. She releases me and closes her eyes, whispering and fighting back emotions. “Go to your king.”