Epitaph Empress
Author's Note: Sorry this update hasn't arrived quite as promptly as the others but here it is at last! Sorry, but I've been horribly busy with this, that and the other; I hope no-one's annoyed at the delay. Again, all my love and thanks go out to my supportive reviewers - I could never have come this far without you (but there's still a long way to go before we'll get to see the words 'The End')! I know so far it's been very angsty but worry not; the romance will kick in eventually! Enjoy the chapter!
Epitaph Empress
Chapter VIII
Demeter struggled to retain the outward appearance of a calm and placid deity, despite the choppy seas of her heart storming madly in a tempest of blind panic, knowing that something dreadful had befallen her only child, her dear Persephone. Her young daughter was missing, lost and alone, without any link to support her! again and again, the worry that gnawed sharply at her insides tried to best her, making the Goddess of Grain wish to sink to the ground and weep. Instead, she pushed forward, drowning the pungent dread with a foolish hope that someone would know of Persephone's fate, that someone would help, that it was all a silly tumble of fuss and ado about nothing in the end. . .
Arriving the grandeur of Olympus; a city of delicate and steadfast wonders, that no earthly delights could compare to, built not of mortal stone or marble but all the strength of will, all the admirable qualities of others founding the finely crafted pillars of pure white, veined with the odd stroke of pale pink or sky blue, encrusted with all the wealth of dreams. Truly the home of the Gods. Demeter lingered, her spirit violently coquetting with insecurity, the shadowy fears of doubt and the icy touch of indecision - dare she risk angering her divine family by charging in when all could be fine? Nay, she decided, flinging away the fantastical hope, knowing that something terrible was wrong and that no danger of her family's wrath could hold her back, her love tearing through all social restraints. Her daughter was in danger.
Bursting through the refined double doors of brilliant alabaster and gleaming gold she charged into the main chamber, where most of her fellow deities gathered, her motherly face ravaged and contorted with anguish and fear. A stunned, chilled silence filled the room as the immortals of Olympus froze, staring at the panic-ridden goddess, some looking with indifference, others with concern, most simply puzzled and others gazing with a hint of morbid amusement, longing to devour and gossip about the shocking news. Demeter attempted to compose herself, to make herself presentable, gathering her breath and smoothing out her earthy robe of rich terracotta. She frowned in disappointment, her brother Zeus was not present. And of course, the tiny, foetus-like of hope that had dwelt within the motherly pit of her spirit, a hope that Persephone might be in their company was completely crushed. And still, the others looked on at her in expectance. Now she felt dwarfed, and felt the beginnings of rumour spread like a disease throughout the huge chamber.
She paused, then found her voice, stiff and shaken but still as proud as she had always been, as proud as she had to be. "Divine peers and family," she said, twisting the silence to fit the reign of her solitary voice "Has anyone present perchance seen my sweet daughter, young Persephone?"
Hera strode forward, her glimmering robe of gold, adorned by the sparkle of fine diamonds reflecting the refined necklace of the shimmer of diamond and the delightful whisper of silver, teasing and sliding along the floor, trailing behind her. Her fine, proud features of a beautiful face and a slim figure were set alight by righteous violet eyes and silken waves of thin and straight hair, glittering like the golden threads that created her gown. Those sharp amethyst eyes gazed upon Demeter with a bemused temper as Hera strode with pride, her stature high, her gold-shod might of the heavens clear. She had always disliked her sister, not with a passion, but merely with a contemptuous indifference, dismissive and cold; as she always held little regard for her husband's conquests. Her mind flew back to her earlier rage at discovering that he had dallied in the bed of earthly Demeter, who possessed little beauty and less alluring charm. She had been angered, jealous and puzzled at how her own bed of pleasures had been forsaken for one so plain as her harvester sister and the birth of so pretty a child born of that union, a child that captured the hearts of all her fickle family and that the Grain Goddess - doubtless! - was proud of. She recalled her distaste at Demeter's burst of pride at the mere mention of her daughter, how proud Zeus also seemed to be though he did little to nothing in her raising and how Demeter would constantly chatter inanely about her child at every single gathering. She perceived the bond between them as an annoyance that her sister would constantly twitter about rather than the profound love that it was, but still held the high ground of being in the right in her own clear estimation.
"Is she not with you, sister, as she always is? Do you not keep a constant eye fixed upon your fair daughter?" she spoke, her low voice soft and clear, with a bemused edge to its sound. True, she admitted to herself - miraculously homely Demeter with all the grace of a land animal had borne a beautiful child. She would have seen this as further insult but in her heart of hearts was somewhat attached to her niece's endearing sweetness and unconscious charm.
"Nay Hera, she has vanished from my side and mind, our bond snapped and I know not where she is." replied Demeter coolly, irritated by having to state the obvious at such a crucial time, her own indifference to the blatant distaste her sister held for her upping the ante to a level of annoyance - her daughter was in danger! Now was no time for petty, one- sided rivalries!
"My Persephone is lost." She repeated, hoping the simple statement would bring forth some action from the still deities.
Hera stiffened, though escaping notice, at the remark. The young girl was a sweet child, but she would not let herself become concerned with the welfare of a tearaway bastard of her husband's. Did none share her views on the sacred vows of marriage? Still, she allowed herself to let some concern slip free, Persephone was her mother's daughter and was disturbingly content with her meadow-filled life - something such as this was very much unlike her. Her fair brow knotted.
"Are you certain?" she asked. "Are you certain it is not a misunderstanding of some sort?"
"I am certain!" Demeter cried, panic once again taking hold and becoming frantic, her face becoming reddened and the burn of tears returning. "I cannot feel her spirit anywhere! Our link is completely severed! It is as though she has vanished into nothingness, as though she never was! I have cried for her and spread my influence over our fields and lands to perhaps feel her presence but I cannot find her, no matter how I search! Please - know you nothing of her fate? None of you? Please, I she must be returned, she must be found! I worry so much!"
"Gentle sister, be calm," Hera said, her crystalline voice low and soothing "Not a single eye in this chamber has beheld your daughter of late. I am afraid we know less than you do. Yet she will be found; Zeus will return shortly and he will know how to set things right."
"But I worry NOW." Demeter pressed, her voice strained. She was madly anxious.
"She will be found." Hera reassured.
Artemis stood, abandoning her discourse with Hephaestus on the state of her mangled chariot of silver starlight, her curled locks of tarnished and ruined gold swaying slightly framing her face like the wings of an eagle, her golden and amber stained eyes gleaming, hawk-like, all serenity gone from her gaze, her mouth a determined line - she was worried for Persephone. She spoke up, her quiet voice reaching determined volumes "Fear not, loving Demeter. My brother guides the sun on its sacred journey with every passing day as I guide the moon across the night sky by night. He bears witness to all in the day and will surely know what has befallen your child, he will have seen it all. You must speak to him with the setting of the stained sun and he will tell of Persephone's fate - you need not worry, my friend. All will be well."
Demeter nodded, though her thoughts were elsewhere, with Persephone still. "Know you of who has seen my child last?" she asked.
This time it was Athena who spoke up, her deep grey eyes sad with heavy thoughts, her rich brown locks lacking their usual mystical wave, her tall frame seemingly weakened, her entire entity disturbed by the news as her mind raced ahead of all others', trying to pinpoint what could have possible happened to the Goddess of Spring. "I recall Hermes speaking of visiting your lost child this very morn, dear Demeter."
"Aye, that he did! I remember!" roared Ares with enthusiasm beside a frowning Aphrodite, the veins in his neck strained, his muddy brown eyes blazing. "I have not one clue to where he is now but - if you were to ask me - I would say he will be here presently," he said with a low chuckle "it's likely he's on the run-around for our mighty Zeus!"
Demeter paused, digesting all she had heard. Hermes. . . "I. . .I thank you all, my dearest family." Demeter said, her voice a shade above a whisper of the dead. She turned to leave.
"Will you not remain? Until Zeus returns? Or Apollo?" said Athena calmly.
"Nay. My daughter is lost and alone, without even my aura to draw comfort from. She is my child. I must find her and I refuse to stop until she is safe within my arms once more." she whispered and strode out of the vast chamber, leaving a stunned pantheon in her despairing wake.
As she left, she heard Hera's parting words ring through her ears and quickening through her shaking soul. She was unsure whether the tone and intention was intended as solemn or sardonic, yet the words remained, fixed tightly within her spirit.
"Good luck."
Alone once more, she quickened her pace, seeming to float on the unsteady wings of frantic fear, anxiousness drowning her frail heart, through rich turrets and grand corridors towards the west wing. It was there that she would most likely meet Apollo. It was there that she would discover her child's fate. It was there that she would be reassured that all was well. It was there that her fearful soul would find relief and peace. Her heart burnt with the bittersweet scorch of hope, crying out desperately 'Let her be alright! Please let all be well!'.
It was then that an oddly amusing, somewhat high-pitched voice caught her ear. Hermes, God of Messages! She turned quickly and entered the adjunct room, her spirit swelling. Yes! There he was, speaking sternly to a figure and failing to maintain an authoritative level. Joy gripped her; he was Persephone's closest friend. If anyone knew if she had wandered off, then it would be he.
"Hermes!" she caterwauled.
"Demeter?" he asked with a surprised, wide little grin "What brings you here?" he gave a friendly laugh "Whatever it is your sweet daughter says, I assure you it is not true! What has she accused me of ruining this time?"
At the mention of her daughter's name, Demeter felt tears pressing once more, distress holding her captive. It was painfully evident that he was as blind as she to Persephone's whereabouts.
"It was only a jest. . ." Hermes frowned slightly at her reaction, she did not usually take his light remarks this way. Though constantly cheerful he was no fool; he knew instantly that something was wrong. Something terrible. And to do with Persephone. His smile disappeared completely, leaving a grave look in its place.
"Good Demeter, tell me what is amiss? Is it Little Flower?"
"Please, know you her whereabouts?"
"Not I, is she not within her meadows as I left her? Oh! Pardon the foolish question. If she were in her meadow you would not be asking me. . ."
"Hermes, I do not know what has befallen her, only that it grave! I fear for her! She has vanished completely!" Demeter cried.
The Messenger God was incredulous "Not Persephone!" he said astonished, fear for his childlike friend creeping in.
"Yes! Our bond is completely torn! I know nothing, only the memory of her screams then. . .darkness. I am so very afraid, know you nothing? How was she when you left her? Did she leave you no clue, no idea?"
A terrible pause filtered through the air between them for a moment before Hermes shook his head, an absent look in his metallic eyes "Not one, she was as she always is - gentle and laughing."
"You must know!" Demeter screeched "Please, you must know something! You saw her last! You must know!" Silence. "Forgive me, I am shaken." She said, though not truly feeling the remorse in a mind where all her thoughts centred on Persephone.
"Forgotten." He said simply. "I will tell Zeus immediately. I will be first to see him, as he would wish to know how my present encounter on his behalf has been taken. Persephone will be safe and sound shortly, I promise. And I never lie." He ended with a brave - though false - crooked smile.
Demeter's attention was turned to his companion at his words, not having noticed the figure before, having been so deeply swept in the current of her thoughts of her lost little girl. She found herself facing a strange figure clothed in voluminous thin layers of wine-red silk that clung to her tall, thin figure, giving off the fiery impression of dark lust, almost akin to the constant allure of Aphrodite. She was both beautiful and ugly, her features mismatched and chaotic - her face was thin and proud, her features sharp. Her cheekbones were high, making her look almost gaunt, her skin as pale as alabaster, her lips wide and thin, her nose even thinner, her eyebrows wild and thick and her forehead high and somewhat protruding. On any other woman, these features may have been a fault, but upon her, the ugly qualities were twisted into a dark, smouldering beauty. Her mighty locks of hair crashed past her shoulders in flaming-red waves, inflaming the room, her deep set eyes nothing put pure dark pits with a garnet glimmer somewhere in the raven depths burning even fiercer. She was wearing a snide grin. Eris. The Goddess of Discord gave Demeter a sardonic little wave, now that she had finally been noticed. She deeply disliked being ignored.
"Salutations." She said smugly.
Hermes never had a chance to explain about having to speak to Eris on behalf of Zeus, relaying a message - naturally - on her recent fervour in warmongering, or at least turning old allies in friends into opposing warmongers, reminding her that there was a limit and not wanting to see another Trojan War on the horizon. Demeter did not want to hear. She had no interest. She only wanted to spill the Goddess' blood. Letting out a war- cry, she lunged for an amused Eris, her eyes screaming for murder. Eris simply stepped back and gave a dark laugh as she watched Hermes attempt to restrain the Goddess of the Harvest.
"Well, thank you for saving me from the battle axe." She said, sarcasm dripping smoothly from her lips like poisonous honey, its odour pungent but alluring "Why do I deserve such treatment, Demeter?" she asked.
"You!" Demeter spat "You're here!"
"I am a Goddess. We do tend to traditionally abide on Mount Olympus every now and then."
"Do not provoke her, Eris." Hermes said, trying to make his voice stern, though half-knowing he may as well tell fire not to burn - it was as much in the nature of fire to flame and flare as it was in Eris' nature to provoke others.
"I merely greeted her, Hermes, you know that. What is the world coming to when one goddess cannot greet another without being attacked?" she said, still sardonic.
"You troublemaking wench!" Demeter cried, her voice rough with unshed tears "It is your fault! Who else? What have you done to her? You have used you influence against my child! Somehow you have brought chaos to her! it is your fault she is missing! I demand you return her!"
The Goddess of Discord laughed mockingly, enjoying the thrill of further agitating the normally jolly immortal "I have no idea of what you speak." She said innocently, her eyes large like that of a guilty child caught with their hand in a jar of treats.
"You know of what I speak! I speak of Persephone!"
"Who?" she asked jocularly, seeing how far she could go before sending the goddess into a complete rage. And in doing so she sent an angry Demeter over the edge. Unable to bear it no longer, certain that Eris was somehow involved and unable to take the goddess' spiteful jokes about her daughter disappearance she saw red. A vicious bloody red. She screeched with anguish and fury and with all her wrath leapt forward, control broken, and began pulling the thick flame-red hair of Eris and clawing at her face with her nails, her ears mute to Eris' laughter, imagining that with each blow she was in fact attacking and wounding the force that had stolen her child.
With a mighty blow, Eris pushed the deranged goddess away from her and smiled in an almost friendly fashion at her, unhurt though her voice was somewhat malevolent. "You have plenty of fight in you, I see. I only hope Persephone does also."
"I apologise." She said coldly in a low voice, thick with threats and blatant insincerity, the fire of her anger meeting the ice of her hatred. She had no time to waste on a spiteful stirrer like Eris. She was above that.
Eris only clapped her hands, amused "No, I applaud you - a fine show." She said sardonically through delighted laughs, thriving on the negative energy, on the sheer emotion pouring through all the chaos, the truth of it all. It delighted and intoxicated her.
Demeter bolted away, ashamed and enraged, only longing for her child to make all well again. She had to find Apollo, had to find Zeus, had to find Persephone! Left alone, Hermes gave Eris a look that spoke his shame of her. Eris simply gave a little smile behind a blank look and shrugged. On any other day, Hermes would have found it difficult not to smile at the dark humour she was now displaying and forgiven her, but not today. Not while his closest friend was missing and she had provoked that very distress. He took flight and bound for Zeus, knowing the sooner he was alerted, the sooner young Persephone would be found. Eris - alone - simply smiled a twisted grin to herself and strode off with a proud little march towards the chamber where the rest of the divine Pantheon dwelt, with a song in her heart and a spring in her step. Whistling.
Demeter fled towards the west, her senses invaded by a brigade of a thousand thoughts, most of which were provoked by her previous encounter. She felt exhausted and longed for rest, to simply collapse and wake up to find out it was all but a bad dream and the world was as it should be. But no, she would persevere, unable to know peace until Persephone was found. She had to be found. As if on cue, Apollo appeared as she mused with panic whether or not the sun had set yet - her daughter's first night alone! - and bumped into her.
Before he could apologise, she roughly took hold of his broad shoulders and gazed deeply into his golden eyes, so much like those of Artemis, with desperate sorrowful eyes, brimming with worry. Hastily, she begged him to tell her of what had happened to her daughter. He frowned, unsure how to respond, his heart heavy and guilt whipping him with the knowledge of his own ignorance to what had happened. Finally, he spoke.
The moment seemed unreal to hear. She did not remember his words, only remembered the feel of all blur around her, of all hope destroyed. She felt the pressure of all her fears and sorrows overwhelm her. It did not seem real, but a grotesque parody of what was real, born from a scene from some ghastly nightmare, until Hermes joined a grave Apollo and broke the illusion and told her Zeus was awaiting her and all other immortals in the main hall. She longed only to sink to the ground, crouch forlornly in a corner an weep bitter tears, burning and corroding her maternal face with their hot descent, the scars of sorrow. She did not fall or falter, though she felt all her divine strength abandon her. All she felt was that terrible ache, that dreadful wound, that hollow feeling where her heart had been cut away. She hated everything in that moment. Yet she still had her resolve, her knowledge that if she gave up, Persephone would never be found, that her daughter safe return would have to be brought from her toil, not her tears. It was enough to drive her forward. But not enough to keep her heart alive.
Meanwhile, in the lonely corner of darkness that was the Underworld her lost daughter crouched, her arms around her risen knees, head buried and abundant locks veiling her face, as if to deny the beauty that first caught her suitor's attention. Her suitor only looked on longingly, wanting only to lull away that fear, that hate, longing only for her love. Hearts broke above and below.
Author's Note: Sorry this update hasn't arrived quite as promptly as the others but here it is at last! Sorry, but I've been horribly busy with this, that and the other; I hope no-one's annoyed at the delay. Again, all my love and thanks go out to my supportive reviewers - I could never have come this far without you (but there's still a long way to go before we'll get to see the words 'The End')! I know so far it's been very angsty but worry not; the romance will kick in eventually! Enjoy the chapter!
Epitaph Empress
Chapter VIII
Demeter struggled to retain the outward appearance of a calm and placid deity, despite the choppy seas of her heart storming madly in a tempest of blind panic, knowing that something dreadful had befallen her only child, her dear Persephone. Her young daughter was missing, lost and alone, without any link to support her! again and again, the worry that gnawed sharply at her insides tried to best her, making the Goddess of Grain wish to sink to the ground and weep. Instead, she pushed forward, drowning the pungent dread with a foolish hope that someone would know of Persephone's fate, that someone would help, that it was all a silly tumble of fuss and ado about nothing in the end. . .
Arriving the grandeur of Olympus; a city of delicate and steadfast wonders, that no earthly delights could compare to, built not of mortal stone or marble but all the strength of will, all the admirable qualities of others founding the finely crafted pillars of pure white, veined with the odd stroke of pale pink or sky blue, encrusted with all the wealth of dreams. Truly the home of the Gods. Demeter lingered, her spirit violently coquetting with insecurity, the shadowy fears of doubt and the icy touch of indecision - dare she risk angering her divine family by charging in when all could be fine? Nay, she decided, flinging away the fantastical hope, knowing that something terrible was wrong and that no danger of her family's wrath could hold her back, her love tearing through all social restraints. Her daughter was in danger.
Bursting through the refined double doors of brilliant alabaster and gleaming gold she charged into the main chamber, where most of her fellow deities gathered, her motherly face ravaged and contorted with anguish and fear. A stunned, chilled silence filled the room as the immortals of Olympus froze, staring at the panic-ridden goddess, some looking with indifference, others with concern, most simply puzzled and others gazing with a hint of morbid amusement, longing to devour and gossip about the shocking news. Demeter attempted to compose herself, to make herself presentable, gathering her breath and smoothing out her earthy robe of rich terracotta. She frowned in disappointment, her brother Zeus was not present. And of course, the tiny, foetus-like of hope that had dwelt within the motherly pit of her spirit, a hope that Persephone might be in their company was completely crushed. And still, the others looked on at her in expectance. Now she felt dwarfed, and felt the beginnings of rumour spread like a disease throughout the huge chamber.
She paused, then found her voice, stiff and shaken but still as proud as she had always been, as proud as she had to be. "Divine peers and family," she said, twisting the silence to fit the reign of her solitary voice "Has anyone present perchance seen my sweet daughter, young Persephone?"
Hera strode forward, her glimmering robe of gold, adorned by the sparkle of fine diamonds reflecting the refined necklace of the shimmer of diamond and the delightful whisper of silver, teasing and sliding along the floor, trailing behind her. Her fine, proud features of a beautiful face and a slim figure were set alight by righteous violet eyes and silken waves of thin and straight hair, glittering like the golden threads that created her gown. Those sharp amethyst eyes gazed upon Demeter with a bemused temper as Hera strode with pride, her stature high, her gold-shod might of the heavens clear. She had always disliked her sister, not with a passion, but merely with a contemptuous indifference, dismissive and cold; as she always held little regard for her husband's conquests. Her mind flew back to her earlier rage at discovering that he had dallied in the bed of earthly Demeter, who possessed little beauty and less alluring charm. She had been angered, jealous and puzzled at how her own bed of pleasures had been forsaken for one so plain as her harvester sister and the birth of so pretty a child born of that union, a child that captured the hearts of all her fickle family and that the Grain Goddess - doubtless! - was proud of. She recalled her distaste at Demeter's burst of pride at the mere mention of her daughter, how proud Zeus also seemed to be though he did little to nothing in her raising and how Demeter would constantly chatter inanely about her child at every single gathering. She perceived the bond between them as an annoyance that her sister would constantly twitter about rather than the profound love that it was, but still held the high ground of being in the right in her own clear estimation.
"Is she not with you, sister, as she always is? Do you not keep a constant eye fixed upon your fair daughter?" she spoke, her low voice soft and clear, with a bemused edge to its sound. True, she admitted to herself - miraculously homely Demeter with all the grace of a land animal had borne a beautiful child. She would have seen this as further insult but in her heart of hearts was somewhat attached to her niece's endearing sweetness and unconscious charm.
"Nay Hera, she has vanished from my side and mind, our bond snapped and I know not where she is." replied Demeter coolly, irritated by having to state the obvious at such a crucial time, her own indifference to the blatant distaste her sister held for her upping the ante to a level of annoyance - her daughter was in danger! Now was no time for petty, one- sided rivalries!
"My Persephone is lost." She repeated, hoping the simple statement would bring forth some action from the still deities.
Hera stiffened, though escaping notice, at the remark. The young girl was a sweet child, but she would not let herself become concerned with the welfare of a tearaway bastard of her husband's. Did none share her views on the sacred vows of marriage? Still, she allowed herself to let some concern slip free, Persephone was her mother's daughter and was disturbingly content with her meadow-filled life - something such as this was very much unlike her. Her fair brow knotted.
"Are you certain?" she asked. "Are you certain it is not a misunderstanding of some sort?"
"I am certain!" Demeter cried, panic once again taking hold and becoming frantic, her face becoming reddened and the burn of tears returning. "I cannot feel her spirit anywhere! Our link is completely severed! It is as though she has vanished into nothingness, as though she never was! I have cried for her and spread my influence over our fields and lands to perhaps feel her presence but I cannot find her, no matter how I search! Please - know you nothing of her fate? None of you? Please, I she must be returned, she must be found! I worry so much!"
"Gentle sister, be calm," Hera said, her crystalline voice low and soothing "Not a single eye in this chamber has beheld your daughter of late. I am afraid we know less than you do. Yet she will be found; Zeus will return shortly and he will know how to set things right."
"But I worry NOW." Demeter pressed, her voice strained. She was madly anxious.
"She will be found." Hera reassured.
Artemis stood, abandoning her discourse with Hephaestus on the state of her mangled chariot of silver starlight, her curled locks of tarnished and ruined gold swaying slightly framing her face like the wings of an eagle, her golden and amber stained eyes gleaming, hawk-like, all serenity gone from her gaze, her mouth a determined line - she was worried for Persephone. She spoke up, her quiet voice reaching determined volumes "Fear not, loving Demeter. My brother guides the sun on its sacred journey with every passing day as I guide the moon across the night sky by night. He bears witness to all in the day and will surely know what has befallen your child, he will have seen it all. You must speak to him with the setting of the stained sun and he will tell of Persephone's fate - you need not worry, my friend. All will be well."
Demeter nodded, though her thoughts were elsewhere, with Persephone still. "Know you of who has seen my child last?" she asked.
This time it was Athena who spoke up, her deep grey eyes sad with heavy thoughts, her rich brown locks lacking their usual mystical wave, her tall frame seemingly weakened, her entire entity disturbed by the news as her mind raced ahead of all others', trying to pinpoint what could have possible happened to the Goddess of Spring. "I recall Hermes speaking of visiting your lost child this very morn, dear Demeter."
"Aye, that he did! I remember!" roared Ares with enthusiasm beside a frowning Aphrodite, the veins in his neck strained, his muddy brown eyes blazing. "I have not one clue to where he is now but - if you were to ask me - I would say he will be here presently," he said with a low chuckle "it's likely he's on the run-around for our mighty Zeus!"
Demeter paused, digesting all she had heard. Hermes. . . "I. . .I thank you all, my dearest family." Demeter said, her voice a shade above a whisper of the dead. She turned to leave.
"Will you not remain? Until Zeus returns? Or Apollo?" said Athena calmly.
"Nay. My daughter is lost and alone, without even my aura to draw comfort from. She is my child. I must find her and I refuse to stop until she is safe within my arms once more." she whispered and strode out of the vast chamber, leaving a stunned pantheon in her despairing wake.
As she left, she heard Hera's parting words ring through her ears and quickening through her shaking soul. She was unsure whether the tone and intention was intended as solemn or sardonic, yet the words remained, fixed tightly within her spirit.
"Good luck."
Alone once more, she quickened her pace, seeming to float on the unsteady wings of frantic fear, anxiousness drowning her frail heart, through rich turrets and grand corridors towards the west wing. It was there that she would most likely meet Apollo. It was there that she would discover her child's fate. It was there that she would be reassured that all was well. It was there that her fearful soul would find relief and peace. Her heart burnt with the bittersweet scorch of hope, crying out desperately 'Let her be alright! Please let all be well!'.
It was then that an oddly amusing, somewhat high-pitched voice caught her ear. Hermes, God of Messages! She turned quickly and entered the adjunct room, her spirit swelling. Yes! There he was, speaking sternly to a figure and failing to maintain an authoritative level. Joy gripped her; he was Persephone's closest friend. If anyone knew if she had wandered off, then it would be he.
"Hermes!" she caterwauled.
"Demeter?" he asked with a surprised, wide little grin "What brings you here?" he gave a friendly laugh "Whatever it is your sweet daughter says, I assure you it is not true! What has she accused me of ruining this time?"
At the mention of her daughter's name, Demeter felt tears pressing once more, distress holding her captive. It was painfully evident that he was as blind as she to Persephone's whereabouts.
"It was only a jest. . ." Hermes frowned slightly at her reaction, she did not usually take his light remarks this way. Though constantly cheerful he was no fool; he knew instantly that something was wrong. Something terrible. And to do with Persephone. His smile disappeared completely, leaving a grave look in its place.
"Good Demeter, tell me what is amiss? Is it Little Flower?"
"Please, know you her whereabouts?"
"Not I, is she not within her meadows as I left her? Oh! Pardon the foolish question. If she were in her meadow you would not be asking me. . ."
"Hermes, I do not know what has befallen her, only that it grave! I fear for her! She has vanished completely!" Demeter cried.
The Messenger God was incredulous "Not Persephone!" he said astonished, fear for his childlike friend creeping in.
"Yes! Our bond is completely torn! I know nothing, only the memory of her screams then. . .darkness. I am so very afraid, know you nothing? How was she when you left her? Did she leave you no clue, no idea?"
A terrible pause filtered through the air between them for a moment before Hermes shook his head, an absent look in his metallic eyes "Not one, she was as she always is - gentle and laughing."
"You must know!" Demeter screeched "Please, you must know something! You saw her last! You must know!" Silence. "Forgive me, I am shaken." She said, though not truly feeling the remorse in a mind where all her thoughts centred on Persephone.
"Forgotten." He said simply. "I will tell Zeus immediately. I will be first to see him, as he would wish to know how my present encounter on his behalf has been taken. Persephone will be safe and sound shortly, I promise. And I never lie." He ended with a brave - though false - crooked smile.
Demeter's attention was turned to his companion at his words, not having noticed the figure before, having been so deeply swept in the current of her thoughts of her lost little girl. She found herself facing a strange figure clothed in voluminous thin layers of wine-red silk that clung to her tall, thin figure, giving off the fiery impression of dark lust, almost akin to the constant allure of Aphrodite. She was both beautiful and ugly, her features mismatched and chaotic - her face was thin and proud, her features sharp. Her cheekbones were high, making her look almost gaunt, her skin as pale as alabaster, her lips wide and thin, her nose even thinner, her eyebrows wild and thick and her forehead high and somewhat protruding. On any other woman, these features may have been a fault, but upon her, the ugly qualities were twisted into a dark, smouldering beauty. Her mighty locks of hair crashed past her shoulders in flaming-red waves, inflaming the room, her deep set eyes nothing put pure dark pits with a garnet glimmer somewhere in the raven depths burning even fiercer. She was wearing a snide grin. Eris. The Goddess of Discord gave Demeter a sardonic little wave, now that she had finally been noticed. She deeply disliked being ignored.
"Salutations." She said smugly.
Hermes never had a chance to explain about having to speak to Eris on behalf of Zeus, relaying a message - naturally - on her recent fervour in warmongering, or at least turning old allies in friends into opposing warmongers, reminding her that there was a limit and not wanting to see another Trojan War on the horizon. Demeter did not want to hear. She had no interest. She only wanted to spill the Goddess' blood. Letting out a war- cry, she lunged for an amused Eris, her eyes screaming for murder. Eris simply stepped back and gave a dark laugh as she watched Hermes attempt to restrain the Goddess of the Harvest.
"Well, thank you for saving me from the battle axe." She said, sarcasm dripping smoothly from her lips like poisonous honey, its odour pungent but alluring "Why do I deserve such treatment, Demeter?" she asked.
"You!" Demeter spat "You're here!"
"I am a Goddess. We do tend to traditionally abide on Mount Olympus every now and then."
"Do not provoke her, Eris." Hermes said, trying to make his voice stern, though half-knowing he may as well tell fire not to burn - it was as much in the nature of fire to flame and flare as it was in Eris' nature to provoke others.
"I merely greeted her, Hermes, you know that. What is the world coming to when one goddess cannot greet another without being attacked?" she said, still sardonic.
"You troublemaking wench!" Demeter cried, her voice rough with unshed tears "It is your fault! Who else? What have you done to her? You have used you influence against my child! Somehow you have brought chaos to her! it is your fault she is missing! I demand you return her!"
The Goddess of Discord laughed mockingly, enjoying the thrill of further agitating the normally jolly immortal "I have no idea of what you speak." She said innocently, her eyes large like that of a guilty child caught with their hand in a jar of treats.
"You know of what I speak! I speak of Persephone!"
"Who?" she asked jocularly, seeing how far she could go before sending the goddess into a complete rage. And in doing so she sent an angry Demeter over the edge. Unable to bear it no longer, certain that Eris was somehow involved and unable to take the goddess' spiteful jokes about her daughter disappearance she saw red. A vicious bloody red. She screeched with anguish and fury and with all her wrath leapt forward, control broken, and began pulling the thick flame-red hair of Eris and clawing at her face with her nails, her ears mute to Eris' laughter, imagining that with each blow she was in fact attacking and wounding the force that had stolen her child.
With a mighty blow, Eris pushed the deranged goddess away from her and smiled in an almost friendly fashion at her, unhurt though her voice was somewhat malevolent. "You have plenty of fight in you, I see. I only hope Persephone does also."
"I apologise." She said coldly in a low voice, thick with threats and blatant insincerity, the fire of her anger meeting the ice of her hatred. She had no time to waste on a spiteful stirrer like Eris. She was above that.
Eris only clapped her hands, amused "No, I applaud you - a fine show." She said sardonically through delighted laughs, thriving on the negative energy, on the sheer emotion pouring through all the chaos, the truth of it all. It delighted and intoxicated her.
Demeter bolted away, ashamed and enraged, only longing for her child to make all well again. She had to find Apollo, had to find Zeus, had to find Persephone! Left alone, Hermes gave Eris a look that spoke his shame of her. Eris simply gave a little smile behind a blank look and shrugged. On any other day, Hermes would have found it difficult not to smile at the dark humour she was now displaying and forgiven her, but not today. Not while his closest friend was missing and she had provoked that very distress. He took flight and bound for Zeus, knowing the sooner he was alerted, the sooner young Persephone would be found. Eris - alone - simply smiled a twisted grin to herself and strode off with a proud little march towards the chamber where the rest of the divine Pantheon dwelt, with a song in her heart and a spring in her step. Whistling.
Demeter fled towards the west, her senses invaded by a brigade of a thousand thoughts, most of which were provoked by her previous encounter. She felt exhausted and longed for rest, to simply collapse and wake up to find out it was all but a bad dream and the world was as it should be. But no, she would persevere, unable to know peace until Persephone was found. She had to be found. As if on cue, Apollo appeared as she mused with panic whether or not the sun had set yet - her daughter's first night alone! - and bumped into her.
Before he could apologise, she roughly took hold of his broad shoulders and gazed deeply into his golden eyes, so much like those of Artemis, with desperate sorrowful eyes, brimming with worry. Hastily, she begged him to tell her of what had happened to her daughter. He frowned, unsure how to respond, his heart heavy and guilt whipping him with the knowledge of his own ignorance to what had happened. Finally, he spoke.
The moment seemed unreal to hear. She did not remember his words, only remembered the feel of all blur around her, of all hope destroyed. She felt the pressure of all her fears and sorrows overwhelm her. It did not seem real, but a grotesque parody of what was real, born from a scene from some ghastly nightmare, until Hermes joined a grave Apollo and broke the illusion and told her Zeus was awaiting her and all other immortals in the main hall. She longed only to sink to the ground, crouch forlornly in a corner an weep bitter tears, burning and corroding her maternal face with their hot descent, the scars of sorrow. She did not fall or falter, though she felt all her divine strength abandon her. All she felt was that terrible ache, that dreadful wound, that hollow feeling where her heart had been cut away. She hated everything in that moment. Yet she still had her resolve, her knowledge that if she gave up, Persephone would never be found, that her daughter safe return would have to be brought from her toil, not her tears. It was enough to drive her forward. But not enough to keep her heart alive.
Meanwhile, in the lonely corner of darkness that was the Underworld her lost daughter crouched, her arms around her risen knees, head buried and abundant locks veiling her face, as if to deny the beauty that first caught her suitor's attention. Her suitor only looked on longingly, wanting only to lull away that fear, that hate, longing only for her love. Hearts broke above and below.