CoffeePixie x LetsFly
The golden sun was high in the sky beating its unbearable heat upon the lush green grass. A young woman twisted from lying on her back to lying on her front burying her face in her folded arms, her nose brushing the soft grass. She wore a chiton of white linen, a golden belt snaked around her waist and two golden clasps held the chiton up at her shoulders. Sitting up the young woman touched a finger lightly to one of the clasps, a symbol was carved into the brilliant gold and she pulled at it sadly. To mortals the symbol was an image that conjured up both hope and fear. For this young woman it just conjured up sadness. It was a symbol of imprisonment. She was free to roam the mortal world, to come and go upon Mount Olympus as she pleased. But she was always under the watchful eye of her mother. None of her moves went unnoticed. If she ventured to near a mortal dwelling, a city or even a lone cottage, she was stopped by her mother.
“Mortal men will take advantage of your kind heart,” her mother told her frequently. “Stay with Diana and Athena, they will teach you the ways of the goddesses.” But Persephone didn't want to learn the ways of the goddesses. She wanted to live her own life. So many of the gods seemed to get away with indulging their every whim. How many mortal women had her father Zeus taken into his bed? And how many had lived long enough to tell the tale once Hera found out? Persephone did not want to be the cause of mortal deaths, but nor did she want to live a life of solitude. Cut off from both mortals and gods by her overbearing mother.
Persephone sighed and stood up, close by was a glistening lake and the heat was beating down causing beads of perspiration to form along her back, between her shoulders and along her neck. She needed the cool relief the water could offer her. She swept her thick, glossy midnight black hair up into a bun and tied it with a sturdy strip of white linen. Her mother had always exclaimed at her dark hair. Persephone was a goddess of spring, of new life. Her mother had thought she would have hair as golden as corn, skin that was sun-kissed and sparkling sea blue eyes. Instead her skin was as pale as porcelain, her hair a deep black and her eyes a rich sapphire blue.
Casting a nervous look around she shrugged free from her chiton and slipped into the gloriously cool lake. She swam a few lengths before leaning against the bank. She could not be long; no doubt her mother would appear soon and chastise her for swimming. But the cold water against her skin was gloriously pleasant.