Epilogue
When I was born, my grandmother prophesied
that I would not be beautiful,
and that this would mean I would lack power.
My grandmother was wrong.
It was true that I was not beautiful,
but my lack of beauty led me to carve
my own way into power.
I fought and found my own paths.
I did not need to be pretty
to become the dread river of oaths.
I did not need to be beautiful
to mother four powerful Gods.
I clawed my way from nymph
to Goddess all by myself.
And yes, the losses have been great.
Grief has made a home within me.
But the power is mine for good now.
Once my sisters laughed at me,
deemed themselves better than I could ever be,
but I am my own potent story of rage and tragedy.
Now I hear footsteps beyond my cave,
someone is following my river in the Underworld.
I hear the sound of a mother and a daughter
walking toward me.
I know who they are.
Asteria, Titan queen.
And her daughter, the beacon of Titan hope.
Hekate.