181. My Second Child Was Born as Ichor Fell from the Sky

My Second Child Was Born as Ichor Fell from the Sky

Whereas my mother’s many children

had been born in peace,

some while the sun shone,

others during peaceful nights,

and a few during storms,

my second child was born

into a war. Her father was summoned

to the house of Kronos

where he was told he would build

weaponry for his Titan brothers.

Pallas and I had not yet built

our own palace. And it was

my father’s insistence that

all the rest of my children

were born under his watchful eye,

as his prophetic dream

revealed how important they

would be during the war.

The agreement was forged

between Oceanus and Pallas.

No one asked how I felt.

What I had hoped was that Asteria

would invite us to live with her

and Perses. But as days passed,

no such invitation came.

I bitterly realized I had to accept

that my fate was once again

to continue in Oceanus’s palace.

But now, I had nowhere to escape to.

I tried to busy myself in the raising

of Zelus, but by the time the Titans

launched their first attack on

those new Gods of Olympus,

he was already a grown God.

And this meant he was taken from me.

I had tried to protest, but what could I say?

He was as mighty as his father and his uncles.

The morning he left to join the conflict,

I had cried so much

my heart never healed.

As I watched him accompany

his father to the house of Kronos,

I feared his capture and injury.

His emerald hair and temperament,

which he inherited from me,

often felt like the only

commonality between us.

Pallas almost missed the birth of Nike,

my child of victory, born on a night

of powerful raging thunder.

Three of my sisters helped me

give birth that night, and I could

feel their hands trembling

as the din rolled across

the skies, blinding lightning

at the windows. The birth

was long and difficult.

It was why I named her Nike.

And it was why I asked Pallas

to give her the gift of victory.

‘She will be everything,’

he had decreed, his prophecy

voice shaking with emotion.

‘From the good cheer

to the hope we need.’

My sweet rosy-cheeked child

opened her eyes at his words,

as though, even as rumbling rolled

across an uncertain posterity,

she understood what she must do.

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