Persephone — also known as Kore — was the daughter of Demeter, goddess of the harvest, and Zeus, ruler of the skies. She was light, vitality, the very spirit of spring walking among wildflowers. But like many stories whispered through time, hers took a darker turn.

One day, while wandering across a blooming meadow, Persephone spotted a flower unlike any other — a narcissus, vivid and strangely alluring. It hadn’t grown there by accident. Gaia, at the request of Hades, had planted it to catch her eye. And when Persephone reached out and plucked it from the earth, the ground itself split open.

From that wound in the soil emerged Hades, god of the underworld, drawn to Persephone not with love, but with desire. In a flash of gold and shadow, he carried her away in his chariot — down into the depths, to be his queen in a realm without sunlight.

Demeter’s grief was immediate and all-consuming. When she discovered that Zeus had given his silent permission for the abduction, her sorrow turned to fury. She withdrew her gifts from the world. Crops failed. Trees stood bare. The earth held its breath under a sky that refused to give.

To restore balance, Zeus finally sent Hermes to retrieve Persephone. But some ties are not easily broken. In the underworld, she had eaten six seeds of the pomegranate — small, but potent. In doing so, she had accepted its laws. The fruit bound her to the shadowed realm.

A compromise was reached: Persephone would return to her mother for part of the year — when the earth wakes, when buds open and warmth returns. But for the remaining months, she would descend once more, to sit beside Hades as queen of the underworld.

This is how the seasons were born — not just from changing temperatures or orbiting suns, but from the aching rhythm of separation and reunion. Spring is Demeter’s joy reborn; winter, her mourning. And in the center of it all stands Persephone — no longer just the maiden of flowers, but a woman who belongs to two worlds, carrying light and shadow in equal measure.