The light that surrounded her was a dark reddish hue. Black marble walls and floors, polished to the point of becoming a sort of all-encompassing mirror. Cold air. Very, very cold. What on sacred Earth was she doing in that strange, eerie place?

More importantly, what was that terrifyingly unfamiliar place? Never in her life had she seen anything that seemed so alien to her, anything that was so utterly contrary to everything that made her who she was.

How did she come to be there? The last thing she remembered was playing with a group of naiads, singing and dancing around a meadow after having dipped into the crystal waters of a mountain brook. Her season was coming to an end and she was celebrating the dawn of the time ruled by her mother: the golden splendor of summer and the abundance of the upcoming harvest. Tired from her frolicking, she had stretched on the grassy ground in the cool shade of a tree and fallen asleep.

She dreamt of an explosion of colours – gold and red and coppery brown - and then she awoke in that place of cold and darkness.

Where was she? Where did that ghostly luminescence come from? Why, oh why was it so cold?

The sound of footsteps on the marble floor made her turn her head sharply toward the source of movement. A tall man, with long black hair and long black robes, was striding in her direction. He stopped right in front of her, holding something out in his hand:

"Here, wear this."

It was a beautiful black velvet cloak, rich and warm. She took it from the man's hands and wrapped herself in it, feeling instantly more comfortable. Still, she eyed the stranger suspiciously.

"What is this place? And what am I doing here?" she asked, somehow managing to keep her voice from shaking and betraying her fear.

"This is the Underworld." She gasped in horror, but the stranger continued calmly, as if what he was saying was the most natural thing in the world: "And you're here because this is where you're supposed to be."

Dread and anger filled her, battling each other for supremacy over her very being. She realized she was shaking, but no longer from cold. She tried to cling to anger – it seemed somewhat less painful than fear.

"Are you crazy? I am the goddess of life! How can I possibly belong in the realm of death?"

The man stared at her silently for a while. His eyes were calm and unfathomable, their colour a very unusual coppery black; she'd never seen eyes like that before, but she'd heard about the deity that had them: Hades. She suppressed a shiver of terror. However, he didn't appear particularly cruel right now. He seemed to be pondering his reply and she experienced a brief feeling of triumph, thinking she'd cornered him. After all, how could he possibly argue with her reasoning?

Finally, he spoke:

"Has it ever occurred to you that death is one of life's many strategies to renew itself?"

She was stunned into speechlessness. What on earth…?

Suddenly, a flurry of images started to flood her mind. Lions and gazelles, wolves and deer, foxes and rabbits, eagles and… No!

Artemis, the huntress – a good friend of hers - with her bow and arrows.

Death to support life.

No, no, no!

She shook her head hard, but there was no stopping it.

Dead leaves covering the ground in a rich golden-brown coat, slowly turning into the nourishment that would feed next spring's new plants. Tender sprouts blossoming on the naked branches of the selfsame trees that had shed their sumptuous dress of red and gold last fall.

Death to allow for new life.

A tear rolled slowly down her cheek. A long calloused finger reached out and gently wiped it away.

"I had never thought about it that way", she admitted despondently.

"Life needs death in order not to stagnate and cease to exist. And death, of course, cannot exist without life." His voice was strangely soothing, in spite of the harshness of what he was saying. "We need each other."

"Maybe… Yes, I suppose that's true. But the realm of the dead? I obviously should never be here!"

"Quite the contrary. Since life cannot renew itself without allowing a time for death, this is the place to wait for the time of renewal." After a pause, he added: "Right now, the Earth is resting. If you were up there, you'd disrupt its slumber."

"But my mother says…"

He interrupted her, in a suddenly harsh tone:

"Your mother is goddess of harvest and fertility. She can't see beyond life's bounty. She can never understand how two such seeming opposites are actually part of the same whole."

There was a blaze of fiery intensity in his coppery black eyes and Persephone lowered her gaze. She was feeling much warmer now; it must be the cloak doing its job. It was really beautiful, that midnight black velvet, soft on the naked skin of her arms, comfortingly heavy around her shoulders, falling regally around her body...

Oh, who was she kidding?! As wonderful as the cloak indeed was, it was no garment what made her very blood rush in her veins, warming her from the inside out. It was Hades. The presence of death was arousing an unknown urgency in her, an uncanny lust to live.

The god of death stirred the life in her.

She stood up abruptly, wandered aimlessly across the room. The polished black wall seemed to beacon to her. As she moved closer, she realized she could see her own reflection in the dark marble depths.

The cloak looked truly marvelous on her. It was undoubtedly a queen's garment and she did look majestic in it. The velvet wasn't simply black after all: it shone with a deep green hue.

But that too was disturbing. Was there really darkness in her?

"Spring storms can be rather destructive, can't they?"

Hades had walked up to her and his reflection was now side by side with hers. She noticed that the cloak he was wearing wasn't completely black either, but gleamed in rich coppery shades of red and dark gold.

"If I'm Spring, then you are…?"

He smiled, realizing she already knew the answer:

"Fall."

"What about Winter?" she asked.

"Winter is what Fall leads to and Spring comes from." He looked away from their reflection and directly into her eyes. "The place we meet. Our shared realm."

When she looked back at the wall, the reflection showed her two figures holding hands and Persephone wondered idly for a moment whether they were actually holding hands in reality as well. Hades' voice broke the spell:

"Come with me, there is something I must show you."

He led her along a seemingly endless hallway. Halfway along it, the floor began to slope gently upward and the marble walls became first a dull black, then greyish, then, finally, a thick milky white. She felt a cold draft – really cold now, a biting cold that made her shiver, and she realized the temperature down where they were coming from was actually quite mild – and heard the howl of strong wind.

Hades stopped and gestured at the gate that opened up ahead.

"There is the way in for mortals, and the way in and out for us. Cerberus will recognize you as its mistress and will not attempt to stop you. You can come and go through it whenever you see fit."

Persephone walked slowly up to the gate and contemplated the swirling heavy snow and dark grey sky. Then she turned back to where Hades was waiting in silence.

"I shall take that exit when it's time to wake up the Earth anew. But then I'll be happy to take that entrance to come back when it's again time for her to sleep."

The king of the Underworld smiled and offered her his arm:

"Welcome to our realm, wife."

"Glad to share it with you, husband."