Chapter 3.3 - Summer Festivals

“Welcome back, daughter,” her mother greeted her, all smiles, at the mouth of the cave.

Persephone felt a little stiff from sleeping on the ground and still a little turned around after traveling back and forth twice between worlds within the boundaries of one night.

“I take it you had a pleasant journey home,” Demeter continued, way too cheerful so early in the morning. “How is your husband?”

“He’s well, thank you,” Persephone mumbled, squinting from the crude light.

“I take it your followers are still looking for you,” her mother pointed to the group, which meandered through the forest and valleys carrying torches in the middle of the day.

“I wouldn’t deprive them of the excitement of finding me, eventually. Let’s give them a few hours. I have a few things to tend to in the meantime.”

“Your husband gave you homework, dear?”

“No. It’s a favor I promised a friend. In fact, I was wondering if you’d be able to help. It’s a plant.”

“For Proteus.”

When you spend so much time switching between realities, whether it’s from death to life or from sleep to consciousness, you are bound to cross paths with the shapeshifting god of the unconscious, whose gift of prophecy and ability to alter the properties of matter were unmatched, even among the gods.

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