Food was piling on the feasting tables; berries were being picked for the juice making. The musical instruments were brought out and children talked and laughed as the two nymphs, apple and peach one, made final preparations for their gods.

“Pochva won’t like it if the grass gets stamped on,” said Theanore worriedly. There was a patch of grass between the tables where the children were supposed to dance, but Theanore wanted to leave that patch unmolested.

“Sylen wouldn’t like it if we don’t dance,” argued back Mary. They both looked at Marinus, who shrugged.

“I say we ask for forgiveness, rather than permission,” and with that, he blew the horn and stepped on the raised platform.

“Everyone, the food has been brought here, and the juice is almost ready. We can begin the first Sylen/Pochva celebration! Line up for the dance!” Giggling children lined up in a long centipede like line and waited for the drums and flutes.

“Oh, Sylen! Oh, Pochva! Bless our celebration and give us many sunny days. For we are children, and we need the sun like a plant and the sea does!” Called out to the skies, Marinus.

In the forest of plenty, Persephone sneezed. She then smiled brightly. It was those children who made juice in her honor again. Oh, how adorable! She wanted to go and hug them all.

“Hades, I am being worshiped!” Exclaimed Persephone happily.

“That is wonderful news!” Said Hades, barely containing his happiness. There were people in this world that knew his wife as Pochva. There had been confusion with the first farmer who prayed to Hades who forwarded his plea to Persephone and somehow, she was known as Pochva here.

“I’m going. They seem to be celebrating Sylen too. Oh, It's going to be quite the party! Can’t you come as well?” She looked at him pleadingly, but he shook his head.

“I am still weak from helping Elmar come back to life. And this is your celebration. Show these kids you are tons better than Sylen, dove,” Persephone went to him and peaked his lips and then disappeared quickly. A skill all gods had when there was a celebration in their name.

Back at the Apple Grotto, Sylen was already there and beating his drums. Even Theanore was dancing, for it was fun, and she wanted to support her daughter.

But the little nymph really wanted to see Pochva, at least once. No one has ever seen her. Most prayers went to her husband, the Dead one. But if Pochva showed up just once, Theanore was going to build her a temple and…

A flash appeared and all music stopped. Now, Theanore wasn’t worried. The barrier that Lena had put would not let anyone with bad intentions come to her home.

She looked around to see a beautiful olive skinned, black-haired, woman wearing a strange white dress and sandals. She looked around in wonder. Sylen dropped his drums and ran to embrace her.

“Persephone, you left that dead world!” The satyr exclaimed, laughing and twirling the woman around.

“I haven’t given up on Earth. Just taking a break from it to have more time for my family,” said Persephone. Theanore came to the two uncertainly and tugged at Persephone’s dress.

“Excuse me, are you Pochva?” Asked the nymph, hopefully.

“I am! But my real name is Persephone. Did you organize this celebration?” Persephone was looking at all the children, who were as young as two and as old as eighteen, and she gave them all a bright smile.

Then, a baby began to cry. So, she had made a mistake. There were even babes here. Oh, how wonderful. She went to the child and extended her hands. A young girl wearing a lovely green dress handed the baby to Persephone with a bright smile.

“I charge you to love all green things,” said Persephone as a light extended from her and into the baby. “To be good and brave and much loved, little girl.”

A loud cheer went across the clearing and the children lined up for a blessing. Theanore went at the back of the line, with Mary behind her. Only Marinus did not join in.

He stood to the side nervously as Persephone blessed each and every child who came before her. When the juice began to bubble too much, he went and stirred it.

Persephone, Pochva, or whatever, was a land goddess. He had his god. It was one thing to dance with the rest of Sylen. But Persephone was blessing and indoctrinating people. Marinus couldn’t denounce the sea god, Poseidon, in such a way.

But Persephone noticed that he was not joining the line, and she crossed her arms before her stomach. She pouted and pointed at the back of the line, looking at Marinus.

“Come on, young merman, one more blessing won’t hurt you. My good brother has let you become a changeling. He won’t mind you being blessed by me.”

“But, what if he does? What if I can never return to the sea?” Marinus loved the sea. It had been his home before he found the apple grotto. It was his home still, to an extent.

Persephone giggled and called out to Sylen.

“Tell me, brother satyr, has Poseidon ever spurned his grandchildren?”

“Never. Well, if you don’t count Ursula. But she is a dark witch, she is. Not in this world, though. Fear not children,” added Sylen when some children, who still worried that Clotilde will make a return, looked at the satyr worriedly.

“You wouldn’t want to sadden me by refusing my blessing, wouldn’t you?” Asked Persephone, genuine hurt seeping into her voice. Marinus’ eyes widened. He did not want to hurt a lady.

So, he ran behind Mary and waited his turn to be blessed. Persephone wished them all well. Light sealed her words each and every time. When it was finally Marinus’ turn, she hugged him and then kissed him on both cheeks.

“I charge you to be the protector of your family, the column of this community and all around a good person. Now, I will be going back to my husband and my son. Do tell me beforehand the next time you hold a celebration in my honor.”

And just like that, Persephone disappeared and Sylen began to drum again.

“Come on, munchkins. It’s party time!”

Loud cheering answered him, and the children began to dance wildly around the clearing. This time, not in a line.