Chapter 22: Plants and Fire

Underworld.

Demeter let out a groan of frustration, watching as the small sprouts she had carefully planted withered and crumbled into dust.

She knelt, running her fingers through the lifeless soil, only to find it dry, almost brittle, as if it rejected life itself.

"This place is awful," she muttered, stomping her foot. "Not even a single blade of grass can survive here! How does my brother live in such a miserable place?"

She pouted, crossing her arms. The idea of spending an eternity in the Underworld, surrounded by cold stone and lifeless terrain, made her shudder.

"Um..."

A soft, hesitant voice broke through her thoughts. Demeter turned, her golden eyes locking onto a young woman standing a few steps away.

She had long, flowing green hair that shimmered like river reeds, and deep emerald eyes that glowed faintly in the dim underworld light.

She fidgeted slightly, shifting her weight as if unsure of herself.