17. ‘Styx!’
‘Styx!’
It was the first time my mother
had even acknowledged me
in an age. The curse, I suppose,
of having thousands of children
is that you could spend an immortality
not speaking to some of them.
I did not turn to look at her.
Instead, I met the God-King’s glare
with the hot, burning rage
I had carried within me for years.
My father’s sea-blue halls
filled with tension.
I could feel
all my sisters behind me,
their fretting
only adding to my anger.
Of course, I would have to fight
for our futures all alone.
Kronos’s next words boomed
across the silent hall,
a hidden violence in every word.
‘Who is this insolent child
that dares to speak while
I am speaking!’
But I was not afraid of him.
I had lived a thankless lifetime
in the shadows whilst
my father handed the rivers
I had helped him make
to my brothers, and I had been
midwife to my mother.
I would not back away
and let myself be trampled
by an uncle I had only just met.
It was as though an uncontrollable rage,
one of never being seen,
spoke through me now.
I raised my head in his direction.
‘I am Styx, the oldest child
of Oceanus and Tethys.
I was born at the start
of your reign, oh King,
the first of the Titan children.’
I could feel every eye in the room
turned in my direction.
The weight of my words
clearly had some impact.
Kronos’s eyes narrowed
as he considered them.
Then imperiously he asked,
‘And you think your position
is enough to challenge my decree?’
He turned to my father. ‘Oceanus,
tell your child to leave my sight
before I punish her!’
I looked to my father, hopeful
that he would support me.
He knew my counsel well,
had always trusted me to advise
him. I knew my father would
stand by me when it mattered most.
It felt as though an era passed,
then my father rose slowly
from his chair to speak.
He opened his mouth
and spoke these words…