Sundown

VII

Upon waking, Demeter had less than a minute of blissful, sleepy ignorance before a heavy sense of dread dropped like a weight in her stomach. The previous evening's happenings rushed back to her, and she recoiled to be reminded she'd have to return her sweet Kore to the god of the dead.

Her long battle to get her back had been foiled by this unseen loophole, by the Unseen One himself. And, she thought with despair, by Persephone's revelations to the group last night. Demeter's brief hope of disappearing with her before they could take her was almost immediately squashed by Hades' insistence on staying. But her own daughter pointing out the weakness in her plan to starve the Earth again also ruined it. It was a betrayal that she feared, in the back of her mind, meant Kore was not unwilling to return to him.

She wondered if the six days Zeus has given them was more of a blessing or a curse. It was time to say goodbye, to somehow come to terms with the painful, inevitable fact that she must part with her daughter. But now she must also be forced to see them together, to see him leering at her, to see all things she feared become reality in front of her.

As if the universe were intent on adding insult to injury, Demeter left her room only to see Kore walking through the field with Hades following close behind her. She expected him to keep his word, but this stalking after her every step was too much.

"Is it not enough to steal her away six months of the year, Hades?" Demeter demanded, her weariness bubbling back into anger. "Now you have to darken her last days in the light as well?"

"Mother, I asked him to accompany me," Persephone defended gently. "I want to show him the crops and how the mortals harvest." Demeter stared blankly at this girl who was being more and more a stranger to her.

"So he knows how important our work on Earth is?" Persephone prompted. "So he'll know why he must return me on time?"

Demeter was rendered speechless; she certainly couldn't disagree, her anger suddenly halted in its tracks. She was begrudgingly impressed by her daughter's initiative.

"Then let me know the moment you are finished," she said with a sigh to Persephone. "I will send one of the nymphs to follow."

Before she could protest, Demeter turned away and left, wanting to be with Kore but not wanting to continue to watch this exhausting nightmare. Persephone gave Hades an apologetic smile.

"I know it doesn't seem like it, but I think she's mostly just sad," Persephone admitted.

"I understand," Hades replied as they continued towards the barley. "The day you left was ... difficult for me, to say the least." She stopped, looking up at him.

"It was?"

"Every day you were gone was harder than the last. But I had hope, knowing I would see you again. Your mother will find solace in this hope too, knowing you'll return to her."

The goddess of the flower's heart swelled. Not only had he confessed how much he had missed her, but he alleviated some of her guilt about leaving her mother. She thought back on a cool summer night months ago.

Nearby, the same night was now on Demeter's mind. She heard Kore wake with a gasp, followed by soft crying. Alarmed, Demeter went to see what was wrong.

"I don't want to talk about it," she'd said quietly. Her mother sat next to her on the bed, but Kore turned away, curling into a ball in her sheets. Demeter's brow furrowed with concern. Kore told her everything.

"Sweetheart, it always makes you feel better to talk about things. What is it?" she pressed gently. Kore sniffled, trying to suppress a sob.

"You'll be upset if I tell you," she replied, her voice breaking. Demeter stroked her hair, feeling saddened and helpless that she wouldn't let her console her.