The early morning light filtered through the canopy of trees, casting long, dappled shadows across Persephone's garden. Beautiful, colourful blooms reached as far as she could see, in every direction, all of them healthy and almost glowing.

Zorya moved through the quiet space, her fingers trailing across the blossoms that seemed to open and reach for her touch. There were some new flowers she didn't remember being there last she visited her friend.

It seemed she must've been enjoying herself lately – Zorya found out some time ago, that Persephone's powers were strongly connected to her emotions. If her friend wasn't feeling well, then the flowers and plants seemed dull and lifeless, opposite to when she was happy and content.

Speaking of which, the goddess was already there, sitting on the edge of a small stone fountain, staring into the water with a soft, distant smile. She barely noticed Zorya's approach until she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Lost in thought?" the nymph asked, sitting down beside her, a small smile playing at her lips.

Persephone let out a soft sigh, though it wasn't a heavy one. It was the sound of someone caught between worry and excitement. She smiled, tilting her head to rest on Zorya's shoulder.

"I suppose so," she shrugged slightly.

The nymph glanced at her, noticing the unusual calmness in her friend's demeanour. Usually, Persephone had more energy—mischievous or carefree—but today there was a serene undertone, like something was pulling her away, mentally.

"I can tell you're holding something back," Zorya said, nudging her slightly. "Out with it."

Persephone hesitated for a moment, her fingers lightly tracing patterns in the water. Then, she sighed and straightened, shaking her head with a small smile. Still, she kept her eyes on the water, watching as the surface rippled with each move of her finger.

"You know me too well," she said.

"Better than you know yourself, sometimes."

Persephone laughed, though it was softer than usual. She finally lifted her head, turning her full attention to Zorya.

"There's... someone," the goddess admitted quietly.

"Someone?" the nymph's brow furrowed. "Do I need to deal with a persistent mortal or some god again?"

"No, no, it's nothing like that," Persephone quickly assured her, but a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

She glanced around as if making sure no one else could hear them, then leaned in a little closer.

"It's different. I've... been talking to someone. I don't know who he is."

"You've never seen him?" Zorya blinked, intrigued but cautious.

"No. Not even once," the goddess shook her head. "It's always just... his voice. We talk, mostly in the late afternoons. It started a while ago, soon after my horse almost died. I thought I was imagining it at first, but he's... kind. I think he's the same man, who left the vial that we found by the fountain."

Zorya leaned back, processing this.

"So, a mysterious voice?" she said after a moment. "And you don't find that suspicious?"

"I did at first," Persephone admitted. "But he's different. He's never asked for anything. We talk about... simple things. The stars, the flowers, the cycles of the seasons. He knows things, Zorya, ancient things. But I don't feel threatened. If anything, it's the most peaceful part of my day."

Zorya's expression softened. She trusted her best friend's instincts, but there was something unsettling about the idea of a stranger—especially an unseen one—speaking to her in secret.

"Do you know what he wants?"

Persephone shrugged lightly.

"I don't know. Maybe nothing. I never get the sense that he's... after anything. It's almost as if he's content just to talk. He seems... lonely," the goddess' voice was soft and resolute.

Zorya's eyes narrowed slightly, but she didn't want to alarm her friend.

"Lonely gods or immortals are dangerous, you know that," she huffed.

"I know," Persephone said, her smile fading a bit as she lowered her eyes. "But it doesn't feel that way. I know it sounds strange, but I enjoy our conversations. I feel like I've known him longer than I have, as if he's been... watching me for a long time. But he's never pushed. Never intruded."

Zorya hesitated, biting her lip before speaking again.

"Persephone, I know you trust your instincts, but just be careful. There are plenty of immortals who would say the right things just to gain your favour. Especially with your mother's constant matchmaking. She'd never approve of something like this."

"Don't remind me," Persephone let out a groan. "I can't take another attempt from my mother to push me toward Ares."

Zorya chuckled, though it was short-lived.

"Speaking of Ares... how's that going?" she asked, almost unsurely.

Persephone winced, pulling a face.

"It's not. I went on another 'date' with him last week—well, if you can call it that. He spent most of the time talking about his conquests, asking when I'll visit his war camp," the goddess rolled her eyes. "He's relentless."

"And you haven't told him about the stranger?" Zorya asked, even though she already knew an answer.

"Of course not!" Persephone said, suddenly looking alarmed. "Ares would lose his mind. He's already jealous of any attention I get, and this... he would definitely take it the wrong way."

"Not that there's a right way with him," Zorya muttered, then paused, her voice growing more serious. "Has he suspected anything? Has he said anything?"

Persephone shook her head.

"No, he doesn't know. I'm sure of it. He's too self-absorbed to notice something like this," she hesitated, then added, her voice barely about whisper. "I don't want to worry about Ares and him finding out. I'm not interested in him, and I've made that clear."

Zorya gave her a small, knowing smile.

"I know. But Ares isn't exactly the type to take rejection gracefully," she sighed. "If he finds out about your secret conversations, he might not handle it well."

Persephone sighed, clearly torn between her own curiosity about the stranger and her desire to avoid further entanglements with Ares. It was already tense and unpleasant as it was, but now that there was a possibly third person coming into play... She just knew this would not end well.

"You're right," the goddess said reluctantly. "But still... these talks with him are the one thing that's made me feel more... free. Like I'm not just being pushed in directions I don't want to go."

Zorya softened, her protective instincts clashing with her desire to see her friend happy. She trusted Persephone, but she also couldn't ignore the growing sense of unease in the pit of her stomach.

She was silent for a moment, weighing her thoughts before speaking again.

"If this stranger brings you peace, then I won't stand in your way," Zorya said carefully. "But just... keep me in the loop. I don't like the idea of you being alone with someone you don't fully know. If anything feels wrong, you'll tell me?"

Persephone's expression brightened at Zorya's support.

"I will. I promise," she said, sticking out her pinkie with a childish smile.

The nymph replied with a smile of her own, before entwining her own little finger with her friend's. It was something she saw some humans do, mostly children and ever since she showed it to Persephone, it was a little running joke between them.

But even though Zorya agreed, she still wasn't fully at ease. Something about this situation didn't sit right with her, but she trusted Persephone's judgment.

For now, though, she would stand by her friend and see where this led, even if it meant facing Ares' wrath down the line.

Persephone stood, brushing her dress down and looking more at ease.

"Enough about that. I was thinking we could spend the day in the gardens—maybe visit the river later?"

Zorya smiled and rose to her feet.

"That sounds perfect. Let's forget about gods and strangers for a while."

Together, they walked toward the heart of the garden, their bond as strong as ever, unaware of the storm that loomed just beyond their peaceful world.

*****

The two returned when the sky was painted with the soft hues of dusk, and the warm light of the fading sun-bathed Persephone's garden in a gentle glow.

Persephone had been walking with Zorya and her sister, Astrea, who had just came back after her not-so-quick affair with a god, who turned out to be Phanes.

When Persephone and Zorya got to the lake, like the goddess suggested, they found Astrea swimming there already. She was alone, as the rest of the sisters went off in search for another fling or to do their own things.

Astrea had always thrived in her flirtations, with gods and mortals alike, delighting in the attention and playing with desire like it was a game or a challenge. Her latest affair started off as a bet with one of her sisters.

Though they often teased each other, Astrea and Zorya had a strong bond, and Astrea had always kept a protective eye on Persephone, since she knew that the goddess was important to her sister.

They strolled through the winding paths of the garden, discussing trivial matters—Astrea's latest fling with Phanes, the boy Zorya helped lately, and Persephone's newest seedlings in her garden.

It was a simple, light-hearted evening, and they were enjoying each other's company, Persephone tending to her flowers while the two nymphs sat by and watched, when the sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the grove.

The goddess smiled, not even glancing back. There were only three people who came down to her garden, only one having heavy footsteps.

"I've missed you. Where have you been?" Persephone asked.

"So it's true."

Persephone's smile faded as she turned toward the sound, and the nymphs' eyes narrowed. It didn't take long for them to recognize the figure that emerged from the shadows, the armour glinting as Ares stepped into view.

"There's someone else," the god continued, his face not betraying any hint of emotion.

His presence, normally bold and overbearing, felt out of place in the tranquil setting of Persephone's sanctuary. A war god in a field of flowers. In any other situation, Zorya might've laughed, but now was not the time.

Persephone stiffened, her peaceful expression turning wary. She had hoped that after making it clear she wasn't interested, Ares would leave her alone. Yet here he was, uninvited, intruding into her space once again.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice measured but polite, despite the discomfort she clearly felt.

He never came down to her gardens, not once in the last few months since Demeter arranged their match. He always seemed to hate it when she even as much as breathed a word about a trip to her gardens. And yet, here he was, unexpectedly.

"Who is he?" Ares asked instead. "I just want to know who I'm competing with."

"You're not competing with anyone," Persephone said, then her eyes hardened as she glared at the god. "You've already lost."

But he only smirked, stepping closer, almost cornering her.

"Don't be so sure."

The only reason why Zorya hadn't jumped in already, was her sister, who held her by the arm. Astrea knew they had no place in this conversation. However, if Ares went any further than simply speaking, she would not hold back anymore.

While Astrea loved to seduce mortal men and gods, it was only fun when both sides were willing. Never had she agreed with a concept of forcing someone into anything they didn't want to. If the male she wanted to seduce told her no, she accepted it. With difficulty and reluctance, but she did.

And when Ares put his hand on Persephone's arm, she almost snapped. But the goddess easily managed to push him off.

"Are you drunk?" she asked, nervousness creeping into her voice.

"I brought you a gift," he said instead, with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

Reaching back, he took something off his belt. It was a gleaming piece of armour—intricate and beautiful, crafted by Hephaestus himself, if the craftsmanship was anything to go by.

"It's made of chromium steel, and the leather is from the finest of Zeus' heifers," the god continued.

Persephone's eyes flicked down to the armour, her stomach twisting. She didn't want anything from him, especially something so symbolic of the violence he was associated with. Her hands stayed by her sides, refusing to reach out.

"You shouldn't have," she still forced herself to sound calm.

Zorya finally freed herself from her sister's grip and walked over to stand slightly behind Persephone, arms crossed, watching Ares closely. Her gaze was sharp, ready to step in if necessary, though she didn't want to antagonize the war god just yet.

Still, she didn't like how he was looming over her friend.

Astrea was in similar position, but less obvious. She stayed in the spot she sat since the god arrived, but tensed, ready to jump in and defend her sister and her friend in needed. She knew she wouldn't do much, but it was almost instinctive for her – to protect her little sister.

Ares frowned, taking a step closer, the playful grin fading.

"Try it on," he insisted, reaching to grab the material of Persephone's dress.

"Please don't touch me," the goddess stepped back quickly, before he could even touch the fabric.

"Go on," the god pressed.

Zorya had enough and moved forward, placing herself slightly between Persephone and Ares. She could feel the stench of alcohol coming off him, so strong it almost made her cringe, but she stood her ground.

"You heard her. She said no," she spat.

Ares' gaze flicked to the nymph, annoyance clear on his face. He didn't appreciate being interrupted, least of all by a nymph, and it showed in the way his eyes hardened.

But she stood her ground. During their brief romance, she had to deal with his moods and she knew what to expect. The god was aggressive and violent, known to be making rash decisions, just like he was at the moment, but he also treated females better than most.

Despite the fights they got into, he never actually hurt her. He was cold and ruthless at times, but never raised his hand at her. And while she didn't believe he would do so now, she couldn't be sure, especially with the alcohol affecting him.

"She'll wear it," Ares growled, his hand tightening around the armour. "I didn't ask for opinions."

Persephone stepped back instinctively, her pulse quickening. She didn't like where this was heading, but before she could speak, the god moved toward her with a predatory intensity.

With a swift motion, he stepped around Zorya, towards the goddess and once again. This time, she didn't have the time to back away, before he grabbed at the fabric of her tunic and tugged it off her shoulder.

Zorya's reaction was immediate, as was Astrea's. The younger nymph lunged forward, grabbing Ares' arm and pulling him back, while her sister quickly pulled the goddess back, away from the god.

"Let go of her!" Zorya exclaimed, putting herself between the two.

The god of war turned his wrath on her, shoving her back with his free hand. She stumbled but didn't fall, her eyes blazing with fury.

"Don't make me hurt you, nymph," he sneered, advancing again.

But Persephone had enough. Using her powers, she willed wines to break through the ground and wrap around Ares, raising him into the air and restraining him.

But being the god of war, he knew exactly what to do in a fight. He broke free, with almost no struggle and smirked at the goddess, lunging again.

Persephone pushed her friend out of the way and grew more vines, sending them towards Ares. However, the god had no trouble with destroying them with his hammer, coming closer with each step.

Zorya didn't want to stand by and watch, so she took her chance. Seeing as the god was focused on the wines, she summoned her powers and summoned a ball of light, sending it towards the god. It did little damage, but she achieved her goal, distracting him.

At the same time, Persephone realised that the vines weren't working, instead finding something else. She focused her powers on a massive stump, left behind by a tree that fell during storm. She lifted it into the air, and before Ares realised what was happening, she sent it flying towards him.

Just before it could hit him, the god saw something coming. His eyes widened for a second, before he used his hammer to break the stump and jumped towards the goddess, raising his hammer.

Zorya lunged forward with a cry, trying to pull her friend back. The goddess barely managed to summon some plants to create sort of shield around her, but would do little to actually protect her from harm if the hammer was to hit her.

Luckily, it never reached her.

A bident flew out of the dark woods, hitting Ares' weapon, knocking it and the god back. The fight paused for a second, everyone turning to see who intervened. The air seemed to turn cold, resonating with an authority that even Ares could not ignore.

A shadow darker than any cloud began to form at the edges of the clearing, and the temperature seemed to drop even further, as the god of the Underworld, Hades, made his presence known.

The shadows coiled around him as he stepped forward, his gaze fixed on Ares. Zorya glanced back and noticed the bident turn itself around, flying towards the Lord of the Dead. The god barely paid it attention, as he raised his hand and the weapon flew right into it.

Ares froze, his eyes blazing with fury and confusion, but he hesitated. Then, his eyes narrowed as he turned to face Hades, who now stood only a few feet away.

The god of war had always considered himself unmatched in strength, but there was something about Hades—something dark and dangerous, something beyond the raw violence that Ares wielded so recklessly.

He knew that even with his prowess in combat and brute strength, he was no match for the oldest son of Kronos.

Hades' eyes were cold, devoid of any warmth or mercy.

"Enough, Ares!" the Lord of the Underworld declared, before closing the distance between himself and Persephone.

The goddess, and her friends, were too stunned to speak or make any move. Persephone almost immediately recognized the voice she came to love and cherish during their countless chats, but never had she considered that the owner of the voice might be Hades.

Zorya and Astrea, on the other hand, had never seen the god of the Underworld. They heard stories about how he never left his kingdom. No one other than gods had seen him, since the time he became the Lord of the Underworld. And yet, here he was.

Ares' jaw clenched, his pride bristling at the interference, but after a long, tense moment, he straightened. Hades stepped closer to his nephew, his presence a wall of darkness between the war god and Persephone.

"Go, or I'll cut you down," he threatened, then glanced towards Persephone, his eyes and tone softening. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," she breathed out.

Ares' gaze flicked from Hades to Persephone, his expression a mix of anger and frustration. He was a god of war, not accustomed to being told what to do, especially by someone he didn't consider an equal.

"So, he's the one," Ares realised.

"You should be ashamed of yourself," Hades said, his tone and eyes once again turning ice cold.

"And you should watch who you threaten, old man," the younger god remarked.

"You're even bigger fool than I thought. Leave, or there will be bloodshed."

"I choose bloodshed," Ares hissed.

Then, everything that followed happened faster than Zorya could comprehend.

Ares threw a dagger at Hades, who disappeared into a puff of smoke, melting into the shadows. Only second later, he appeared behind his nephew, bringing his bident down.

The god of war barely had time to reach, raising his hands above his head and letting his braces take the full force of the impact. The shockwave that followed made Zorya shield her eyes from wind and dust that blew all around them.

Next thing she knew, was that Ares was throw into the air, Hades appearing and disappearing, while also throwing punches. The younger god didn't even had a chance to turn around, before more hits came.

It ended with him being pushed down into the ground, creating a hole.

When he rose to his knees, Zorya with slight satisfaction realised that there was a trail of blood, leading from the corner of his lips all the way down to his chin, where it dripped down onto the ground.

The two gods went to attack each other again, before Persephone intervened. She summoned vines once again, trapping Ares and stepping between the two.

"No! It's over!" she pleaded, having enough of all the violence.

Ares struggled against her powers, weakened from the fight, while Hades didn't even look down at the goddess, instead keeping his glare on his nephew. But then, once he looked at her, his body relaxed slightly and he backed down.

"No," Ares protested quietly, breaking free. "It's just begun."

With that, he left in his black chariot. The moment he was gone, the tension in the air seemed to lift, though the chill remained.

Zorya let out the breath she didn't even notice she was holding. She exchanged a look with her sister, who was similarly stunned. Once the two shook off their shock and adrenaline, they turned towards the two gods, who were still locked in their own little world.

"Should we...?" Zorya started and her sister nodded.

"Come. I think others will be happy to see you again," Astrea smiled, and the two turned back towards the forest, leaving the two gods alone.

*****

Zorya had been on edge for weeks, though she wasn't entirely sure why. The lingering unease that started after Ares' confrontation with Hades had only grown, though she didn't have time to dwell on it.

She had been busier than ever, guiding the lost, watching the stars, keeping up her duties as a star-touched nymph. But more than anything, she had been careful to avoid Demeter's suspicious glances.

Persephone's frequent disappearances had not gone unnoticed, especially since Ares started spreading rumours about Persephone's relationship with Hades. At first, little people wanted to believe it, but with time, more and more started to.

The goddess of harvest had been asking around, searching for her daughter, but Zorya, knowing the truth, had stayed quiet. Persephone's secret visits to the Underworld, slipping away to see Hades, were something she had promised to keep from everyone, especially Demeter.

She wasn't the only one who knew—Astrea had also witnessed the start of it—but they had both agreed to let Persephone keep her secret, trusting that she was in no danger.

The goddess of spring seemed... happy, lighter, even. For the first time in centuries, Zorya saw something in her friend's eyes that wasn't burdened by obligation. She saw the hope and happiness she they always wished for.

That was enough to keep Zorya silent. Until that one day.

Zorya was tending to Persephone's garden, that her friend left in her care for the time she slipped away, when she felt a presence behind her. A familiar weight, heavy and charged with the force of a mother's worry and frustration. Zorya didn't have to turn to know who stood there.

"Where is my daughter?" the voice was cold, demanding, and it sent a shiver down Zorya's spine.

Slowly, she stood, brushing the dirt off her hands before turning to face Demeter. The goddess stood tall, her expression a mixture of concern and barely concealed fury.

Zorya almost shrunk down under the weight of Demeter's gaze, but kept her own expression calm, her heart racing.

She knew this moment would come, sooner or later.

"I'm not sure, Lady Demeter," the nymph said softly, not quite meeting the goddess's eyes. "I haven't seen her in some time."

Demeter took a step closer, her presence overpowering in its intensity.

"Don't lie to me, nymph. You and Persephone are close—closer than most. If anyone knows where she's been sneaking off to, it's you."

Zorya swallowed, keeping her voice steady.

"She comes and goes. I've been busy... I haven't had time to visit her often."

Demeter's eyes narrowed, her frustration growing.

"You've been busy," she repeated, her voice a low growl. "Do you think I don't know what's been happening? Ares, Hades... something is happening. And my daughter has been missing for too long."

Zorya shifted uncomfortably, feeling the slowly, but steadily growing pressure of the goddess' powers. Still, she made a promise and she intended to keep it.

"She's been taking care of her duties, as have I," she said carefully. "I don't always keep track of her movements."

"Enough." Demeter's voice was sharp, cutting through Zorya's careful words. "I know you're hiding something. Tell me where she is. Now."

Zorya's heart pounded in her chest. She wanted to stand her ground, to keep her promise to Persephone, but the force of Demeter's presence was too much.

The goddess's worry had turned into something darker, and Zorya could feel it pressing down on her, demanding the truth.

"I—" Zorya hesitated, biting her lip. "I can't."

Demeter stepped forward, her voice dropping into a low, dangerous whisper.

"I will not ask again. Tell me where my daughter is, or I will make sure you regret it."

Zorya took a deep breath, fighting against the urge to crumble under Demeter's will. She had promised Persephone—she couldn't just betray her.

But the fury in the goddess' eyes, the desperation... it was too much. Zorya's resolve wavered. She was pushing Demeter's limit and she didn't know how much she could continue to do so without getting hurt.

She might be an immortal being, a star-touched nymph, but she was no match for the goddess, much less an Olympian goddess. And yet, she still tried.

"Please, I swore not to—"

Demeter's hand shot out, gripping Zorya's arm, her eyes blazing with a divine fury. The air seemed to chill around them, the warmth of the garden fading under Demeter's wrath.

"You swore to keep my daughter's whereabouts a secret while she's in danger? While she's being careless and defying me?" Demeter hissed, her grip tightening. "Tell me. Now."

Zorya gasped, the weight of Demeter's power pressing down on her, suffocating her resistance. She struggled against it for a moment longer, but it was no use. The truth spilled from her lips before she could stop it.

"She's... she's in the Underworld," Zorya whispered, her voice breaking with shame and helplessness.

Demeter's eyes widened, the fury in her gaze turning to something cold and sharp. She released Zorya's arm, stepping back, her face a mask of disbelief and rage.

"With Hades?" she repeated, her voice shaking with the effort to contain her anger. "How long?"

Zorya lowered her head, shame and guilt gnawing at her. She wanted to keep quiet, but she couldn't not with the fury and Demeter's grip pressing down at her.

"I don't know," she whimpered. "She didn't want anyone to know."

For a moment, there was silence. The air between them was thick with tension, Zorya barely able to breathe under the weight of it. Then, Demeter straightened, her face hardening into a mask of cold determination as she released Zorya's arm.

"Come with me, nymph," Demeter ordered, her voice like iron.

"What?" the nymph blinked, confused.

"We're going to get her." Demeter's voice was steady, her expression set in stone. "Now."

Before Zorya could protest or even process what was happening, Demeter's hand shot out again, and the world around them shifted. The familiar warmth of the upper world disappeared in an instant, replaced by a cold, oppressive darkness.

They were in the Underworld.

Zorya's breath caught in her throat as the dark landscape stretched out before them, the ground beneath her feet foreign and unsettling. The air was thick, heavy with the weight of death and the spirits that lingered in the shadows.

But she didn't have time to think about it, as Demeter pulled her forward, leading her into Hades' palace. In the room they came into, stood Persephone beside Hades.

The goddess finally let go of Zorya's arm and the nymph immediately scooted away from her, grabbing the aching limb. She quickly glanced towards her friend, sending her apologetic, shameful look. Persephone gave her the smallest of nods in return, giving her a sign that she didn't blame her friend.

Against gods, especially as filled with rage and desperation as her mother was, there was very little Zorya could do.

"I have scoured the heavens and Earth for you," Demeter said, her focus solely on her daughter. "What happened?"

As soon as she reached Persephone, she brought her into a tight embrace. The younger goddess barely returned it, before her mother pulled back again, cupping her face in her hand.

"Are you all right?"

"Hades saved me," Persephone said with a small smile.

"Saved you?" Demeter repeated, her eyes widening and her face dropping.

She looked towards her brother, who watched the two quietly. His face held little to no emotions, but his eyes were full of them. But before Demeter could speak again, Persephone continued.

"I don't know what I would have done if it wasn't for him," the younger goddess grabbed her mother's hand and held it gently. "Mother, there is so much I have to tell you."

"You can tell me at home," Demeter scowled, pulling her hand away, instead grabbing her daughter's wrist. "Let's go."

But Persephone fought back. She resisted, digging her heels into the ground and pulling her hand out of her mother's grip. Demeter whirled around to face her, shocked. Persephone let out a small sigh.

"I'm not going," she declared. "I'm staying here."

She reached out and took Hades' hand. The god let her, squeezing her hand gently, his eyes softening as he glanced towards her. Zorya couldn't help, but smile when she saw the love and care he held for her friend.

"Mother. I've decided my suitor," Persephone continued.

"You can't be serious," Demeter scoffed.

"I am."

"My dear, you are upset," the goddess of harvest tried a different approach. "Now is not the time to make rash decisions."

"No, I've never been more certain of anything in my life," Persephone said softly.

And Zorya knew it was the truth. She could feel when souls were searching for or missing something. She always felt it about Persephone. But now, when she stood beside Hades, declaring he was to be her suitor, the one she wanted, there was no doubt, no trace of a missing piece.

And the same thing came from Hades. He also found what he was missing, everything he wanted in the goddess standing beside him.

But Demeter still didn't understand.

"Listen to me," the goddess put a hand under her daughter's chin and raised her head to look into her eyes. "You're a flower, child. With no sunlight, you will wither and die in this dark hole."

When she said this, Zorya saw Hades look away in shame. It seemed he was thinking the same thing.

During one of their brief meetings since the fight between Ares and Hades, Persephone had told Zorya about the time Hades stopped her from eating the fruit, as it would bound her to the Land of the Dead.

He didn't want that for her, as he, just like Demeter, knew that Persephone would be unhappy down there in the long run. It was enough for him that he was bound to that dark, miserable place. He didn't wish that for anyone else.

"I won't allow it," Demeter finished, her tone hard and final. "Now, let's go."

She pulled her daughter again, and Persephone was forced to let go of Hades' hand. But as soon as the contact was broken, she resisted again. She tugged her arm free.

"I'm sorry, but my mind's made up."

She quickly walked over to the table, where a vase with white, delicate flowers stood, so very similar to the ones growing in Persephone's garden. But beside the vase, there was a tray with a few fruits on it. Pomegranate.

"What are you doing?" Demeter demanded.

Persephone turned around, holding one half of pomegranate.

"I'm cutting the cord."

And she tipped the fruit. Six seeds fell from it, straight into the goddess' awaiting mouth. Before anyone could reach her, she swallowed.

Now, she also was bound to the Underworld. Now, there was no going back.