Eternity Touch (Part 6)

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You see, only part of the myth is true. Yes, I am the goddess of spring. Yes, I do control the seasons. But her father wasn't Zeus. In fact, her father wasn't a god at all. Back then, I told Zeus she was his so that he'd get her back for me - that first time. He was so angry when he found out that I had lied. He couldn't understand the absolute fear and despair of a mother knowing her beautiful daughter is stuck in the Underworld. He couldn't understand the madness - I would have done anything to get her back, even lie to the king of the gods. And it worked. Well, at first. It wasn't an ideal arrangement, having to give her up for half of the year. And Hades is a wily old god. I knew beyond doubt, although she never actually said as much to me, that she missed him during the months she spent with me.

It was Hades who first noticed that she was aging. He came to me and asked me about it. The daughter of two gods would be immortal - aging simply wouldn't happen. I suppose I knew it would come out. I knew she would age - admittedly slower than most, due to being my daughter, but just as irrevocably and unstoppably as any other mortal. When Zeus found out, he was furious. I think he had grown to love her, in his own way, and to be told that not only was she not his, but her father had been a mere mortal was more than he could stand. Oh, how he raged at me. It still sends shivers through me to think of it.

Thus, the curse.

The story would play itself out over and over again for all time. The first Persephone, as is the way with mortals, eventually grew old and died. Hades was strangely moved by her death - far more so than I had expected. And soon after her death, I found myself pregnant. And it all started all over again. Zeus claimed it was to maintain the seasons, but I am sure it was more out of anger. I am also sure he could have revoked it and saved us all a lot of pain, but that would have proved that it was simply an act of malice, and Zeus never admits a mistake.

The strangest thing is that I have tried to avoid the pregnancy. But each time, as my daughter gets old and nears death, one way or another, I find myself pregnant again. And always by a mortal father. And losing her always hurts, although I know from the day she is born that it is coming, and I know that I will get her back for half of each year. It still hurts every time. Maybe it’s because she is never the same that first time she comes back.

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