In the Wake of Spring

Prologue

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Long ago, when the world was still young and the rivers had voices of their own, Euthalia was born of the Titans.

Daughter of Tethys, Titaness of fresh water, and Oceanus, the great god of the encircling river, Euthalia was the youngest of a thousand sisters—the Oceanids, nymphs of stream and mist—and sister, too, to the countless Potamoi, the mighty river gods. Yet among this vast and ancient family, Euthalia was beloved above all.

She was the nymph of hidden springs, of underground grottoes, and of flowering meadows that bloomed from the veins of the earth. Her touch called life forth from stone. Wherever her waters flowed, blossoms unfurled, roots reached deep, and the air itself shimmered with renewal. In her gentle hands she carried a silver jug brimming with sparkling springwater—enchanted liquid that stirred plants to awaken the instant it kissed the soil.

Euthalia was soft-spoken and shy, dwelling not in wide rivers or open seas like many of her kin, but in quiet glades, mossy caverns, and secret gardens untouched by mortal eyes. She was elusive, like the first breeze of spring, and wise in the way only those who listen more than they speak can be. Poets say it is her voice that causes the springs to murmur and the flowers to sway.

The dryads adored her. Nymphs sought her counsel. Maidens invoked her name in rites of spring, asking for healing, for fertility, for hope.

Even the gods themselves treated her with a rare and quiet reverence. Hera, ever prideful, and Aphrodite, ever envious, softened in her presence. Demeter, goddess of the harvest, loved Euthalia as one of her own, drawn by the nymph's close bond with Persephone, her daughter. And Athena, the goddess of wisdom and war, held deep admiration for Euthalia's quiet insight, once saying that the spring nymph's wisdom was "like still water—clear, reflective, and deeper than it seems."

For each year, as winter thawed and the earth stirred once more, it was Euthalia who guided Persephone back from the Underworld—not by road or sky, but through a secret waterway, a hidden stream that flowed only once a year. Its emergence marked the turning of the season, the blooming of the world.

To Euthalia, the Underworld was not a place of dread. It was one of rare beauty, of quiet peace, and—most importantly—it was the home of her most admired sister: Styx, the somber river goddess, feared by gods but held in awe by Euthalia.

She never spoke ill of shadows. In fact, she often said the brightest blooms grow best from the darkest soil.

Now it was that time of the year again, when she would visit her sister and accompany Persephone back to Earth for springtime.