Daughters of Olympus

by Hannah M. Lynn

This is the story of a mother’s loss and a woman so completely torn to shreds by her family that the whole Earth would suffer because of it. This is the story of the goddess, Demeter.

The one-eyed giants bestowed a present on each of my brothers. Hades, the eldest, received a helmet of darkness that, when placed over his head, made his image slip from sight, rendering him as invisible as a shadow on the blackest of nights. To Poseidon they gifted a trident, with which he could wield all the power of the sea, causing the water to swell and rise at his command. And finally to Zeus, my youngest brother, they gave a thunderbolt, with which he struck down our father and brought about the reign of the Olympians.

This was my calling. To bring harvests to mortals. To turn those decades of darkness into light and life, and I embraced it.

Our relationships as brothers and sisters were not like those of mortals. We Olympians were gods. Immortal. Superior. Just as the Titans who had come before us, we were unique beings, incomparable to all others. It was right that we found more enjoyment in one another’s company than in any others, but it would be wrong of me not to admit that, for a time, I did not merely love Zeus. I was in love with him, too.

Every innocent word she spoke brought light to the world, for despite her conception, she had not a hint of her father’s darkness within her.

As long as I was in Core’s company, I felt a sense of peace. A belief that whatever misery I had suffered beforehand was worth enduring, for it had to have brought me to this point.

Olympians. For mortals and lesser gods, the name instilled a quaking fear. An image of greatness, impervious power infused into our immortality. But I had seen through the facade. There was no permanence in our position. No security. A child born with greater abilities than my own could usurp me in a heartbeat.

If I were forced to pinpoint exactly what drew me so intently to this beautiful young man with his dark hair and ethereal eyes, I would say it was humility.

My love for my daughter swelled beyond depths and heights I even knew were possible. She stood beside me and against her own father, but not only because I was her mother, but because it was the right thing to do.

So many daydreams consumed my thoughts as my mind intertwined fantasy and reality with such complex intricate webs it was almost as though I had slipped past the veil of the living.

My darling daughter. Always thinking of me. Always thinking of others. Perhaps having her by my side would have lessened the pain I was to feel, but there are times when pain should be numbed and times when you should let it burn through you with all the fire your body can withstand.

How happiness can be so deeply intertwined with grief, so it would not be possible for the joy to exist had the pain not been present beforehand.

Core, my darling daughter, who I trusted explicitly, had lied to me for centuries. Not only that, but they had left her alone, where she could be exposed to the worst of humanity.

You must decide which you view as the truth, if there even is one, for I myself do not know.

The Sirens—the beautiful monstrous creatures that lure sailors to steer their ships onto the jagged rocks of the western sea with their enchanting songs so that they can feast upon their bodies—are of my creation.

“I disagree. I think the distance makes us weak. Distance is the start of decay. It allows others to sneak in between us and cast shadows on our greatness. It is when we are together, as close as we can be, that we are our strongest. That is one thing our great brother and I agree upon.”

Any person who has raised a child will tell you that from the instant they are your responsibility, in whatever capacity, you are forever changed. You no longer hear wailings sounds as earsplitting annoyances but as anguish and torment, which you alone must heal.

“It is true,” he said. “The earth did open, and it was Hades’s chariot who raced forward into the sky, and snatched your child. Now that I have told you, I can wait no longer. I cannot be of more aid to you. I am sorry.”

With Demeter present only in body, it fell upon me to fulfill her duty to the mortals. I continued to bless the Land of the Living the way she would have done.

“How could I be trapped on a place I chose to come to? A place my feet could carry me away from, if I had such a desire?”

Unlike so many of my kin, patience had always been considered a gift of mine. But it is easy to be patient when you have nothing to wait for. It is easy to be patient when each day is the same as the last and the future stretches out indefinitely.

We did not need words. Did not need promises of a love eternal. We already had that. We were utterly content in one another’s company.

Then and there, I made a promise to myself that I would not become my mother. I would not spend my life lost in grief, yet I could not erase Ione from my mind. I could not, but there were those who could.

After all, Zeus may have been considered the king of gods and men, but mortals spent only a finite time on earth before they are claimed by Hades for all eternity.

“You are here because you are mine.” His words struck me square in the chest. So simple. So coolly said, yet they released in my heart a heat as strong as if he had struck me with his palm. Fear transformed into fury.

“No, no. That is not what I mean. That is not…” He stopped again, only inches away from me. “I mean, their love grew. Her love for him grew. Love can grow. She wanted nothing of him, and now she weeps every time he isn’t faithful to her.” Had I had known how he would act next, I would have moved quickly, but his actions were as unexpected as the apparent marriage that I had found myself in. He dropped to his knees and grabbed my hands. I tugged, trying to pull myself out of his grip, but it only fastened. “That could be us. Only I would not be unfaithful. Never. I would never disrespect you the way Zeus has with Hera. Let me show you. Let me prove my love. And in time, you, too, will love me.”

And yet, with all those words of courage, there was a truth I could not ignore. A notion so chilling it beat down every hopeful thought I had. Zeus had granted me to Hades. Zeus had given me as a wife. Why?

In a large hall, he twisted me around so that I was forced to face his throne. Only his throne was not alone. No, beside it sat another, equal in height and prominence, the only distinguishing feature the flowers that adorned It.

“It is a new friendship indeed,” she replied. “Although I can assure you it is true. We met while she was searching for you. She called for me to help her, and I came. Just as I have come here to help you.” It was then I knew who stood before me. Someone who could travel between the Land of the Living and the Land of the Dead. Someone who Hades would allow into his home. Someone old and powerful. “You are Hecate,” I responded. Hecate the witch. Hecate, older than even my grandfather and whose renown was so great that even Hades would not dare dispute her presence here. Hecate had come to my aid.

How could someone who did not wish to leave her home possibly rescue me from the Underworld? And yet she had found a way. Beyond all faith I had had in her, she had found a way to reach me.

Even in death, mortals were held by the bounds of others. Was it ever possible, then, for one to be truly free, when even in death they were beholden to another?

The realization of what I could be. Of what I already was in Hades’s eyes. At the thought, a thousand black blooms appeared around our thrones, twisting and tangling them together. Blooms the likes of which I had never created before.

In that moment, I did not feel like the daughter of Demeter. I did not feel like Core, the maiden, whose power was forever kept subdued for fear of the attention it could attract. I felt like a goddess and a queen in my own right.

To choose a name is a gift few of us are granted, though I wish more were allowed that freedom. A name is not merely a cluster of sounds, it is the identity we offer to others before we even show our face. Names are rich with our history and heritage. They help shape our place in the world. Until that point, my name, Core, had marked me as nothing more than a maiden, Innocent, and I, a child. The old me was gone, and the new one would ensure I never became that nameless maiden again. “From this point on,” I said. “I will be known as Persephone.”

“You fail to the see the consequence of what you wish for, Demeter. Hades is the ruler of the Underworld, but he also controls all the world’s wealth. If we anger him, it would be in his power to strip the mortals of it all. All the gold and brass that they use for their offerings. Gone. All our temples, barren. It is the consequences of your actions we must think of here. That is why she will stay where she is.”

“I understand, Brother. I do. But tell me, dear Zeus, what use is all the bronze and all the gold, if all the humans who desire it are dead?” I did not wait for a response, but I turned upon my heel with my head held high and marched from the room without so much as a backward glance.

The bitter iciness that had swallowed the mortals’ lands had come from inside me. And every second that I allowed it to reign over the Earth, it also reigned in me. And the longer something entwines itself around you, the harder it is to break loose.

“Because I believe your love for her formed because she was the first person who made you see your true strength, and if I had gotten there sooner, perhaps it would have been me you fell in love with instead.”

Somehow my mother, Demeter, had changed the hand of Zeus, and brought me my freedom from Hades. Freedom. The word tripped in my mind, replacing the elation that swept through me with a tangible fear.

Freedom was my right, but in some ways I had experienced more of it in the Underworld than at any point in the Land of the Living. I had been free to be myself, unashamedly. Free to test the limits of my power. Free to grow. Something I had never experienced with my mother.

“With you as well. In these palace walls.” I turned and took his hands. “Hades, there is much that I regret of our meeting. Much that has brought me great distress, but I will not leave the Underworld the same soul which arrived. I was a goddess, but you made me a queen. I had power, but you were the one who showed me how to be powerful. Yes, I will leave here, but my time as your wife, in whatever sense we take that word to mean, is carved in the very fibers of my soul. It has shaken my past and woken me to a future otherwise unimaginable. And I have you to thank for that.”

It was not out of pity that I kissed my husband on his lips that day, as if he were my lover. It was not out of some sense of duty or obligation or some misguided sense of guilt that I was leaving him. No, it was because at that moment, I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to feel his warmth against mine. I wanted us to be close. It was a kiss that began with tenderness although grew quickly with a passion I had not anticipated. Fervor I had not expected rolled through me, as, for the first time in all these months, at this precise hour, I saw in him everything he had hoped I would.

My heart was as torn as it had ever been. The desire to stay in the Underworld, with Ione and my husband, my two great loves, at odds with the desperation to return to the sunlight. I was pulled from each side, with a force equal in magnitude.

“You can. You return to the Land of the Living with your mother. Then, when your power wanes, you return here. Regain your strength. Feed from the food of the dead. Then return. You will lead two lives: one in the Land of the Living, one in the Land of the Dead. Hades, would that appease these binds which have been placed on her?”

“She will return to the Elysian Fields,” I said. “She will be there, with the heroes and the others who have felt the true love of a god. But, as she wished before, she will not remember. She will not know that the queen who resides over this place holds her heart. Instead she will drink from the river Lethe and with her soul cleansed, will return to the Land of the Living. She will return with her eyes open to all the beauty and splendor there is. And when she is there, she will find love. Not with a god or a goddess. Nor with one who she must keep hidden in the shadows or leave before their time. But to a mortal. An equal in every way. Ione will love again. She deserves to love again. We both do.” I stepped forward and planted a single kiss on the top of her head. “Goodbye, my love.” And with that I turned and left.

I am the daughter of Olympians. I am the Goddess of the Underworld. I am Persephone. This was my story.

Six months. That is how long I remain in the Land of the Living. Six months before the draw of the Underworld grows too strong for me to ignore. For six months, I live with my mother, feeling the heat of Helios’s sun upon my face, and breathing in the scent of fresh herbs and spring blooms. After which, I return to the Underworld. To my husband, who is as loyal and tender as I could ever hope for. My mother has not yet mastered her grief. The winter still comes whenever I depart, though it fades again when I return to her side. As it will be for all of time.