120. Tartarus Rose from the Rivers of Fire
Tartarus Rose from the Rivers of Fire
His body was carved from dark volcanic rock,
ashes made up his face, glowing, molten magma
formed his limbs, his torso, his eyes.
It was as though the very earth came together
to create him, this fearsome beast of a God.
He was ancient, more ancient than time itself,
and his massive body spoke of things
we would never understand as newer Gods.
For a second, no one spoke. Then Perses
stepped forward and said quietly,
‘Uncle, we have need of your aid.’
At his heart, Perses was a strategist.
As God of Destruction, he was fearless.
The rest of us glanced at one another,
and it was I who spoke up next.
‘The other child of Titans who visited you.
The one with yellow eyes like mine.
Where did she go?’ I eyed the behemoth
we called an uncle. For some time
he did not say a word. Then,
‘I will answer your question
if you answer mine.’ I took a deep breath,
but it was Asteria who spoke next.
‘We will do our best, uncle.’
And we all waited for what he said.