As spring approached, Persephone started getting restless.

She was startled from her sleep, shaken by the feeling she forgot something important, whose absence had consequences which were now piling up out of sight.

Her daydreaming trips to the gardens got shorter, as she spent more and more time with Hecate preparing for her trip.

Most of the hard work of spring was happening underground, quietly. While the dirt was still frozen, the seeds already started their labor of sprouting, and the old roots were patiently rebuilding their aerial parts.

The dark earth concealed this fierce struggle towards the light, which lasted for months before being rewarded with results.

All people ever saw was the miracle of spring, nature bursting suddenly back to life, happening incredibly fast, while Persephone, who looked young and delicate, like she’d never seen a day of work in her life, seemed too unlikely to be its enabler.