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The young lady collapsed on the church steps, on the brink of exhaustion. She had been running for a long, long time; she had left her home faster than the wind, earlier that day, and had been running ever since. She had wanted to escape the influence of the one who had caused her so much pain, trouble and hurt: her own mother.

She was alone, sobbing under the church porch, bitter tears dripping onto the dirty marble. Nothing had ever been easy for her. Her mother had always controlled everything in her life, down to the slightest blink of an eyelash, the littlest gesture, the smallest breath. She just had to leave, once and for all, far away from this woman, this queen ruling over barren lands and fear-frozen bodies.

The hustle and bustle of human life around her was undisturbed, royally ignoring her dishevelled state of mind. In front of the chapel, colourful stalls invaded the paved square, inviting onlookers and strollers into their Sunday market. They piled high with cheeses, vegetables and various cold meats, seemingly offering anything as long as it was fresh. People were selling everything to everyone, shouting at each other, laughing and grumbling. The young lady watched this little merry-go-round unfold without her, her legs not wanting to step in.

Her pain cut sharp through the mundanity of a lazy Sunday life, a life which seemed so extraordinary to someone like her. She was tired, tired of being treated like a mere pawn in her mother’s Machiavellian games, tired of being sheltered from the rest of the world, tired of being hidden away like a sacred secret. She had never been out without her mother; all this excitement around her was overwhelming. Confused and lost, she was being swept away by this disconnection from the world around her, swirling and barking at her feet. She knew nothing about anything, and everything seemed too strong, too big, too extreme for her; she just wasn’t used to it. She sighed, trying to soothe the growing panic in the pit of her stomach. She would have the chance to explore this vast world from top to bottom soon enough, and to understand all of its secrets, if she so wished. But that would only be possible if she managed to avoid her mother’s clutches for good.

“Excuse me, Miss?”

A soft, gentle voice resonated clearly in her ears, breaking through the hubbub of the market.

The young lady jumped, startled. The calm tone, contrasting with the surrounding cacophony, had pulled her out of her frenzied spiral.

“Miss? Excuse me, I’m sure you don’t want to be disturbed, you just look so lost and upset, and…”

She stared at the stranger who had spoken to her, fascinated. In front of her stood a man, very tall, too tall perhaps, of a pale, maybe even waxy complexion. His jet-black hair was slicked back, shimmering faintly under the sunlight. A dark suit, tailor-made to fit his every move, hugged his lean figure. An elegant arabesque-covered waistcoat over a dazzling burgundy shirt revealed the silver chain of a pocket watch, hidden in a slit that one could barely make out. An old-fashioned wicker basket hung from his arm, overflowing with groceries. An energetic and mischievous puppy, held back by a glittering silver leash, was hopping around at her feet, snuggling up to the young lady.

“Cerberus, stop!” The stranger scolded him. “I’m sorry, he’s young, he’s not usually like this, and…”

“Oh, don’t worry,” she replied, trying to sound cheerful, “I don’t mind. He seems lovely, really.”

At these words, the man let go of the animal and examined the young lady, his intense gaze sending shivers down her spine.

He pulled a handkerchief from a pocket and handed it to her.The silk square was embroidered with enchanting motifs that caught the eye, bewitching whomever stared at it a bit too long.

“This is for you.”

He paused for a moment, immersed in silent thought. He didn’t let anything show through his seemingly austere facade. Eventually, he turned towards the young lady, and gave her a kind, courteous smile that contrasted with the apparent rigidity of his silhouette.

“How rude of me! I haven’t introduced myself yet. You can call me Hades”, he exclaimed, a hint of hesitation in his voice.

“Koré,” she replied, almost too loudly. “My name is Koré. Pleased to meet you.”

Despite his intimidating presence, Koré felt something warm about Hades. With his old-fashioned courtesy and out-of-this-world appearance, he inspired her trust, even if her reason cried out for caution; after all, she knew nothing about him, and she certainly didn’t know anything of his intentions. His name sounded familiar, but she couldn’t recall where she had heard it. Against all odds, Koré decided to stop him, just as he was about to leave, holding him by the arm.

“Wait!” she pled. “I… Perhaps you could help me, well, I don’t know. You see, I…”

It was madness. The words wouldn’t come out of her mouth, caught between an all-consuming shyness and the sheer ridiculousness of what she wanted to say. Was Koré really going to put all her hopes in the hands of this complete and utter stranger? It seemed absurd. Hades had stopped, staring her down through his intense eyes, white and blue flames dancing at the back of his pupils. He listened with care, inviting her to continue with a wave of his hand, Cerberus yapping along between them.

“You’ll probably think I’m crazy or something,” she continued, a more assured tone peppering her voice,“but I can’t go back home. I can’t stand this life any more, you know? Ever since I was born, I’ve been hidden inside, forbidden to go out and see the world. My mother promises me riches and power, her entire kingdom, but formally forbids me to ever set foot in it. She starves anyone who opposes her, burns their crops or…” Her voice was nothing more than a muffled gasp. “Or worse. I don’t want to live under her thumb any more. If she catches up with me, Demeter – well, my mother – will make me pay, and I’m afraid that…”

Koré didn’t know what more to say. The years, the decades of torment, of beatings, of insults, came back to her in waves; she tried to keep them at bay, in vain. She knew she couldn’t ask this man to save her; she wanted to fend for herself, but she needed support. Everything was so overwhelming, and she didn’t know anything about anything, how could she get through this? She looked up at her unusual interlocutor; his features had suddenly closed, as if darkened.

“So you’re Demeter’s daughter, huh?” He whispered, his tone suddenly hoarse. “I… I can’t help you, Koré, I’m sorry.”

“Please,” she begged, “just… please.”

A gust of wind blew between the pair, sending shivers down their spines. The market had suddenly gone quiet, making space for their gazes to stare deeply into each other.

“One day, that’s all I can do,” conceded Hades after a few seconds of eternity. “Room and board, and you’ll be on your way. Any longer would be a bad idea. Your mother is… Well. I don’t want to offend her any more than I have to.”

“Take me with you!” Koré pled, a little unsure of her sudden emotion. “Please, I can’t stand it anymore, and I’ll be lost all alone out here, I beg you!”

These last words fled from the young girl’s mouth, flittering into the cool air. She knew that this stranger owed her nothing, that there was nothing he could do, but she was in despair. She would have preferred anything to what awaited her back in the frozen fortress of Demeter. She wouldn’t, or couldn’t, go back there. But should she rest all of her hopes on the shoulders of this stranger? What was she even thinking?

Koré looked up at Hades, ready to apologise and get out of there as quickly as possible. Guilt and shame burned her cheeks to her ears; she didn’t have to put him through all this. Surprisingly, however, she saw that the man’s face had taken on a pinkish tinge, almost red, in contrast to its original pallor.

“They’ll…” Hades stammered, confused. “They’ll think I’ve kidnapped you, they’ll spin horrible tales, I can’t put either of us through this, I can’t…” His tone was hesitant; he was shaken. “Besides, it’s so dark in my house,” he stuttered, “you’re so bright, radiant even, it wouldn’t suit you, no, I just can’t…”

She watched as he stammered, confused. A thought crossed her mind; it was coming back to her at last. She had only ever heard of one person with that particular name, Hades: the Lord of the Underworld. It was said that he was taciturn and austere, intimidating and elegant. That he was hard, stern and that his heart was bottomless. And here he was, standing there in front of her, babbling under pressure, a puppy jumping at the dry sausage coming out of his basket.

“I want to take control of myself, of my life,” she said categorically. “I can’t take it any more. If you don’t help me, I’ll ask someone else until I find someone who will.”

Her decisive tone surprised even her. For the first time, Koré seemed sure of herself. She wanted to thrive, far from Demeter’s shadow. She could feel the man’s heavy gaze on her, placid and unfathomable. Cerberus stood against him; the puppy seemed to have grown, in the blink of an eye, into a quiet hound, just as fierce and quiet as his master.

After an endless moment, Hades finally sighed.

“Very well, then. You seem ready for anything. If that’s the way it is, I have to accept.”

Koré would have gladly jumped to his neck but, judging by the severity of his features, she refrained from doing so. All she did was scratch the top of Cerberus’ head, who was once again yapping with excitement.

“Certain measures need to be taken, however,” continued Hades. “As you may have guessed, I am the King of the Dead, as they call me. I rule over Tartarus, I handle the existence of the poor souls sent to the afterlife, hollow and lonesome in the wretched plains of my kingdom. Generally speaking, you only enter it through one door, never to leave again. But I don’t want you… dead.”

Koré listened intently. As he spoke, he pulled a pomegranate from his basket, a peculiar plant as bright as the heat of a sunset. With his hands, he broke the vibrant fruit into two halves, leaving the sanguine beads protruding from the hard white flesh inside. Delicately, he removed a handful of the seeds and held them out to the young girl.

“I want to give you your freedom, but you still have to abide by certain rules. By eating these grains, you will be able to live in Tartarus without fearing for your life, but you will be sacrificing part of your independence. It’s the only way.”

She nodded apprehensively, taking a few seeds from her palm, beads as red as the blood pounding against her temples.

After a moment’s hesitation, she brought one to her lips, crushing it gently under her teeth. The bittersweet acid washed over her, a wave of delight crashing against her palate; she had never eaten anything like it. She swallowed two, then three and four and, on the sixth, Hades’ hand paused her.

“That is enough,” he said firmly.

Something inside her was begging to take over; her whole body was screaming at her to devour the rest of the fruit. A new type of hunger was rumbling in her heart, an appetite that howled for fullness. She wanted to consume the rest of the pomegranate, acid juices running down her chin; she would topple the whole world to do so, if she had to. A cold glance from Hades cut short these pretensions. Koré understood that she shouldn’t get too carried away, and that she would lose her life, or worse, if she persisted.

“You have eaten six seeds,” hummed Hades in his usual phlegmatic way, “which entitles you to stay six months a year in my abode. You’ll be crowned by my side as Queen of the Underworld, I’ll see to that. It’s mostly a symbolic title, but it does have a couple of perks. And you won’t stay for more than six months a year, I couldn’t inflict that upon you. For the remainder of the time, you can go wherever you like, you’ll be free to do as you please.”

Koré beamed at him, words of infinite gratitude sticking to the back of her throat. Jubilation exploded inside her, making her feel as light as a feather.Unfathomable horizons were opening up to her at last, carrying with them a myriad of dizzying possibilities.

They stood up. Hades guided the young lady towards a strange vehicle, Cerberus trotting merrily behind them. Koré was unable to recognise the car; a Bentley, perhaps?

“One last thing,” declared Hades, his tone smoother and gentler than before. “From now on, you cannot be called Koré. So as not to arouse your mother’s suspicions, you see? So you’ll have to choose a new name.”

“Persephone,” she replied, confidence dripping through each of her new name’s syllables.

She didn’t know why she had chosen this particular one. Persephone. It rolled under her tongue, coiling in her mouth as if it had always lived there. But above all, this new name filled her with an unbridled zest for life that she had never experienced before. She was reborn.

“Very good, Persephone,” Hades uttered slowly.

A smile stretched his thin lips. The young woman’s exultation was reflected in her every gesture; it would have been cruel not to take part in it.

“Thank you, Charon,” he said at last to the chauffeur in dark livery holding the door. “We’re going straight home. I’m sure you’ve already noticed we have a guest…”

Persephone sat down in the back seat and the Bentley’s engine purred. She imagined Demeter’s anger and the blows that would come once she noticed her disappearance. But it was necessary. She had to live. Or rather, Persephone had to live.

The car was hurtling through the layers of the earth at breakneck speed. After all, what did it matter if she ended up in the Underworld? To bloom, any seed has to be placed in the ground.