One

"Mother, is there much further to travel?"

Demeter sighed; she brushed her fingers through her hair and slumped her shoulders. She eyed her daughter with a fleeting look of resentment and then shook herself.
"Not much longer my darling, we will be there before nightfall,"

Persephone rolled her eyes, her arms shaking with the weight of her bundles. She dropped them onto the grassy bank and collapsed down next to them. She flopped onto her back and allowed herself a moment of rest. Her mother sighed again, dropping her bags in turn and lying next to her daughter.
"I know it's tiring, child. But we must get to our new haven before Helios retires," Demeter yawned; they'd been travelling for two days and nights, stopping only for rest.
"I know mother, I am just very tired," Persephone answered sweetly. She looked at her mother and smiled, a big smile that she knew her mother could not resist. Demeter barked a laugh and kissed her daughter's head before dragging her upwards, "Come along," she said, "If you're that tired, I shall carry our belongings,"

Persephone's smile widened into a grin, "Well if you insist, mother!" she sang. She started on ahead of her mother, enjoying the sensation of the cool summer grass beneath her feet and the soft leaves of tall trees caress her face. There was a salty breeze here too; she could tell they were close to the sea. The soft wind pushed the women downwards along the bank, the sun low in the sky casting dancing shadows that followed them tirelessly. Persephone widened the gap between her and Demeter, curiosity filling her as she heard muffled laughter. She could hear the sound of rhythmic drumming and the buzz of conversation. She quickened her step, distancing herself even further from her mother, trying to find the source of the noises. Demeter, weighed down with the belongings of the two women struggled to keep up with her daughter. She too heard the drumming and a pang of fear entered her heart.

"Persephone?" she called. The sky grew darker, and Demeter struggled to make out shapes in front of her. She heard no reply. "Persephone!" she called again, urgency creeping into her tone. Demeter felt the panic rising in her being and she dropped the bundles and broke into a sprint. The once welcoming touch of nature now hindered Demeter in the search for her daughter, low hanging branches whipped and grappled at her face and arms; threatening to pull her back. The drumming grew louder as she ran faster, and sweat trickled down her back. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears as her frantic breath came short as she searched for her child.

"Mother?"
Demeter halted herself. She turned to find Persephone standing in front of a vertical sheet of water rising from the sea bed to Olympus itself. It shimmered in the dying sunlight, ebbing and flowing just like the sea. Demeter grabbed Persephone and crushed her into her bosom. The elder woman shook with relief as she patted her daughters auburn hair. Persephone pulled away and glanced towards the water. The drumming was deafening and barely visible through the flow of the water were a group of mortals gathered around a large fire. They had slaughtered an animal and were dancing around it. An offering to the gods.

It was like nothing Persephone had ever seen. She had never seen a mortal before; she was surprised by how similar she looked to them. She craned her neck to get a better look, her breath catching in her throat as the women danced past. Joyous looks upon their faces, their dresses billowing behind them as they went. The growing darkness of the night sky framing them in a bed of stars. They looked beautiful. She longed to be with them, to feel the heat of the fire against her face, to be drunk on the atmosphere and the dance in celebration of the gods.
"What is this place?" she whispered. Not taking her eyes away from the ritual.
"This is The Gate," answered Demeter. She eyed her daughter carefully, watching her every movement. "It is how we see into our hearts, what we want most,"

Persephone opened her mouth to speak and closed it again. She lowered her eyes in shame and turned to face her mother. Demeter's usually bright face looked wild and aged. "Is this what you desire most, child? To be mortal?"
Persephone shook her head. Guilt sank all through her body; she couldn't bear to reach her mother's eyes. She chastised herself internally for incurring her mother's anger.
"No mother," she started, "I don't long to be mortal-"
"Well then-!"
"But I long for company other than you, mother. In all my life I just remember you, I have never seen nor spoken to another being in sixteen years. I just want a friend," she stopped herself. Persephone knew she had said too much and spoken completely out of turn.
Demeter turned her face away, hiding her hurt from her child. She started walking back the way they had come, stopping only to turn and offer a hand to Persephone. Persephone dutifully took her mother's hand and began walking, she turned her head to steal one last glance at The Gate and at the smiling faces of the women she'd never know.

They walked in the cloak of darkness to their temporary home, the hollowed inside of a large tree bark. As Demeter slept peacefully with one arm protectively over her daughter, Persephone remained awake. Thinking of the women who danced in the fading sunlight and joined hands around the fire. A tear escaped from her grey eyes and as she drifted off into sleep, she dreamed of a life out of the clutches of her mother.