Still, Persephone was granted one
wedding wish. Quickly, before it could be withdrawn, she prayed
to be returned to her mother for half of each year. And so it
was.
In time she accepted her exile with good grace. Yet, because
Cupid had never used his arrows on her heart, she felt no love
for her captor. At times, perhaps, pity.
Time as earthlings know it does not exist for denizens of the
nether world. Those suffering suffer not by day or night, but by
eternity. The Curse of Cronus, lifted from the Gods, still left
its mark upon these sufferers, and age beyond age they carried.
And even Persephone, though shielded by the Gods, felt the
power of Cronus, saw wrinkles gently forming. Invisible to
Pluto, who saw only through the eyes of love, this aging process.
One innocent pleasure Persephone had.
The dread ferryman in his duties came ever to the kingdom's
portals. And there he heard the happenings on earth, and fables
of happenings in Heaven.
These tales he passed on to Persephone, for she longed to know
of the world she had left behind.
And one day he brought to her a tale that left her heart cold.
Ceres, her mother, was nearing the end of her days. She prayed
daily to the Gods that she might see, before her departure, her
beloved daughter.
The bargain had been made. Six long months must Persephone
dwell within the nether realm. The Gods would not relent.
Still, Persephone would see her mother.
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