O dread Persephoneia, revered lady, sing in me. Breathe inspiration into my swift fingers; give them the skill to weave my story bright and clear as the works of knowing Athena. Let my tapestry speak out; let it cry loud and high-sounding, striking against the stars. For this work is all I have - warp and weft and dark-gleaming dye are now my vowels and my consonants, shaping the trick, the song, the web in which I shall catch the one who has wronged me. I have no other weapon with which I might fight, for my once-swift feet cannot take me from this close-walled prison, and my mouth (hollow, abscess, empty) has been forced to silence, each breath tasting of nothing but blood.
Exactor of justice, queen beneath the earth, lend me your strength, and your cold will of stone. For as I now suffer, held here, stolen from my friends and family and from the soft light of dawn, so you did once, when, as a fair-ankled maiden, lord Hades took you by your wrists and carried you underground. For many long months he kept you as his prisoner, while above your mother, great Demeter, scorched the dark earth dry in her fury, spreading barren winter over the land so that all gods and mortals might know the pain she felt, deprived of you, her beloved daughter. On behalf of your imprisonment, Persephone, the whole world starved.
I do not know whether I am so mourned, whether my sister calls out my name in lament within her great halls. I see no one here but the silent servants who give me food and fresh skeins of wool, and my tormentor, lord Tereus, whose very steps fill me with chilling fear. Was it so for you, my lady? Enthroned in the gleaming palace of Pluton, did you dream your mother's tears? Or did you think yourself forgotten, severed forever from your mother's house by the silver knife of marriage, lawfully relinquished for a fine dowry, for riches chosen from Pluton's store of shining gems?
I know that you are the only one of the undying gods who I can hope will listen to my prayers. The wide blue sky, seat of Olympos, is barred to me, and I cannot lift my arms to it and beg the attention of the golden-throned gods who dwell there. Even if I could, I do not know that they would listen to me as I am now, frail, bloody girl. But you reign beneath my feet, and many times in the course of my imprisonment I have pressed my palm against the soil and whispered my soundless entreaties into it, hoping that you might hear me, though no words shall ever again come from my throat.
Lend your strength to this work, Queen Persephone, and I will honor you always. In Athens, where my lordly father reigns, sweet incense shall smoke upon your altars, and wine will darken the earth before them. The first flowers of the spring shall be yours, and the first fruits of the summer as well. And my body shall be yours, to put to whatever purpose pleases you.
Grant me freedom from this place, and I will open my veins for you, if it is your desire.
You know what it is, to sit quiet and waiting for hours upon eternity, statue-still, entombed. You must know that it feels like being dead: such stillness, such quiet. You know what it is to wait ever for his entrance, for his touch, his breath upon your shoulder and his narrow fingers beneath your tunic. Perhaps Hades Kthonios is a kinder captor than Tereus; perhaps he never held a knife, glimmering, before your eyes. Perhaps he did not - does not - leave bruises like jewels upon your neck. But, though the ways of the gods are obscure to man, I cannot imagine that you never feared him. I cannot imagine that you never felt despair.
Help me, then. This work is my only hope; a tapestry to tell my story, to let my sister know that I still live upon the earth. I cannot write the story out in broad, clumsy letters; he will see my works, clear upon the proud-standing loom. I must be clever. I must conceal my purpose, weave a web of stories so rich and true that she will understand my plight. This is my only hope.
My hands shake, lady. My mouth tastes of rust. I can hardly remember what the sky looks like.
Only the strength of a goddess could allow me to complete this task.
Pray, be with me.