Persephone's Choice: The Darkness & the Light | A novel of Ancient Greece

Chapter One: The Prophecy

To mortal eyes, the peak of Mount Olympus was permanently shrouded in cloud, even on a clear day.

The summit rose majestically above the level of the clouds, surmounted by the palace, the home of the twelve immortal Olympians. Being above the clouds, the Palace of Olympus was always bathed in the golden light of Helios as he charged across the sky in Apollo's chariot. The gold-veined marble seemed to glow in the sunlight, richest at sunset as Helios came to the end of his day's work.

A mysterious network of courtyards, chambers, colonnaded walkways and balconies, gardens, rivers and waterfalls clung to the mountain's peak, effortlessly rising from the landscape as though they had always been there rather than designed and raised by Zeus himself after he gained control of the heavens.

Crowning the complex was the great round portico containing the twelve thrones of the Olympians. The impossibly high columns were carved from the most flawless marble, supporting a roof that could be enchanted to show anything its master wished. Today, it mimicked the rich cerulean blue of the sky.

Every deity of the Pantheon was gathered on Olympus to congratulate Zeus on the birth of his newest daughter. Gods, goddesses, Muses and Graces mingled in the throne room, sipping ambrosia amidst the life and laughter.

But beneath the surface, tensions seethed. It was a rare occasion that all the deities gathered in one place – there was too much history between them. Jealousies, slights, grudges, betrayals, resentments... they had centuries' worth. Grey-eyed Athena bickered with her old nemesis, Poseidon; crippled Hephaestus glared at his beautiful wife, Aphrodite, as she flirted with her on-off lover, Ares; the eternal maidens Artemis and Hestia whispered together; and Hera, Queen of the Pantheon, wife of Zeus, watched everyone haughtily, wearing her dignity like armour.

Congratulations were offered to the child's mother, Demeter, too, but she knew why everyone had really come. It was not for gaiety, or a family reunion. Today's celebration was one of the most important events in the life of a young god or goddess. It would be the mortals who gave Demeter's daughter her true name, but until she grew to maturity and they came to know of her, it would be the daemon Aisa, one of the three Fates, who gave the baby her first name and told something of her future gifts.

This child was the first new goddess born in centuries; she represented the hope of a new generation, and all were curious to see what her destiny might be, what power she might hold, and how it would affect them.

As one of the three Moirae, the sources of all destiny, Aisa dwelt below the Earth's surface, toiling with her two sisters in their workshop in the Underworld; there, they passed their days spinning, measuring and cutting the threads of life that would determine the fates of all mortals. Such was their power that even the almighty Zeus spoke of them in hushed, respectful undertones. Their decision was final, their word was law, and even the gods had no influence over them, powerless to intervene in the fate of a mortal once it had been decided by the dread Moirae.

Demeter shifted the baby in her arms and shook her hair back behind her shoulders, the waves as glorious, golden and abundant as late summer wheat. It cascaded down her back, contrasting with the grass-green gown she wore. She glanced impatiently at the sky, reading the position of the sun. Hades was late.

She was anxious for him to arrive. There were few among the Pantheon that she could count as allies, but she and Hades had been protecting each other since their earliest days entombed inside Cronos. From the decades in the dark abyss, to the ensuing war with the Titans, they had always defended one another. Something about his presence always reassured her – he stood tall and calm, whatever the situation, with an air of quiet authority and a well-controlled power that seemed to shimmer around him, drawing in the light.