The distant hollow booms of waves crashing against the Northern cliff did not disturb the peaceful lull of the morning. Under the shade of a large acacia tree in the back garden, Ceto lay on a stone bench with her head resting on Phorcys' lap. Just ahead, Medusa chased after songbirds bathing in a bubbling fountain. When they flew off, she followed them past a bend.
The patches of sunlight felt just right against Ceto's skin, and the smell of the flowers was pleasantly soft… yet, yet something else kept her heart unsettled. It's been unable to settle since that day he came and killed everyone.
At least I got my husband back.
From her angle, she could see Phorcys’ face even though that unsightly band of thorns around his neck spoiled the splendour of the sight. This was his real face with his real body and she was satisfied. Well, somewhat satisfied.
Phorcydes still hated her for obtaining this tainted freedom. She would not respond to Ceto's many letters, and she learned last week that she had fled the bogs.
Phorcys had urged her to cease worrying about his sister.
She would return to us. Just eat well and drink your elixirs. Focus on recovery.
Ceto wasn’t so sure about recovery. Unlike most gods and goddesses, something had gone wrong with her mind the day Zeus took their mortality. Her ability to measure time, to make sense of her own abilities or to simply be… wise felt so hard.
The only thing that remained clear and consistent was that she loved Phorcys. The memories from when they were young, before the power of the monolith became poison in Zeus’ hands, remained branded in her mind. And Zeus had used that to punish her for a stretch of time she couldn't measure, all the while dangling a possible union with Phorcys while keeping him in a bondage of obedience.
Now I am bound as well, a general ignorant of my powers and the value of my blood. Why did I do that?
“… so stupid,” she muttered, shutting her eyes as a fresh wave of scalding self-depreciation burned her with shame.
Phorcys stroked her hair. “Don’t say that. You’re not stupid.”
Lately, he was beginning to regain his ability to speak more clearly despite the thorns.
Yes, there was no need to feel stupid. She had Phorcys. Her daughters were alive, and Zeus only took a little blood. All was well. Still…
Sighing, Ceto sought Medusa out. A peal of laughter confirmed she was somewhere within the garden. Unlike the fake, the real Phorcys preferred their youngest daughter's company. Because he wanted her around, Ceto had to be around her as well, and that was doing something to her otherwise weak mind. Making her remember moments of motherhood she assumed never existed.
Fondness was a curse. It made her do stupid things, as was the case with Phorcys. She had made a similar mistake with Stheno, forgetting that Athena would come for her. Allowed herself to care, only for her child to be taken away. Exactly like… like…
Ceto frowned. She could almost swear she had a child before her first. She was just about to ask Phorcys about it when she felt him stiffen.
“What is the…” Her words faded when she sensed it. A god was present. Not as powerful as him, but close.
“Are those your parents?”
The voice of a child? Ceto bolted upright and watched with no small confusion as Medusa stepped around a flower bed, holding a boy's hand. She was looking at his face, while the boy, blonde and bright-eyed, grinned at Ceto.
Those were not the eyes of a child. And there was something repulsive about that smile. Unease churned like oil in her belly. I must… I should protect my child. A ringing went off in her ears as her chest tightened.
Pounding fear mounted. My daughter is not safe. I should get my daughter away from him. Why didn't I sense his approach? But who is he? Why can’t I recognise him? So foolish. Now he is with my child. My husband is shackled. What should I do? I must do something.
Her heart raced in her throat. Unbidden, thoughts of that day returned. The pile of bodies. The pressing of his presence. Unable to do a thing. But this god was not him. Maybe I can…
“...do something.”
Phorcys rested a hand on Ceto's thigh, snatching her from the grip of whatever was about to swallow her mind. And it was only then that Ceto realised how the air had changed around him. Pulses of aether flared like invisible flames, yet his expression was placid as his focus remained on the boy.
“Medusa,” Phorcys called, voice still gentle despite his difficulty speaking, “come here.”
The boy immediately looped an arm around Medusa’s shoulders, preventing her from moving. “But I don’t want to be away from my new friend.” He pressed their cheeks together, that cloying grin brightening further.
The ringing in Ceto's ears returned as something heavy loomed over her senses. I should get my child away from him. But Phorcys’ hand on her thigh chained her to sanity.
“Listen to your father, Medusa,” Ceto said in a shaky voice. “Come now… please.”
Medusa pouted. “But Father, I’ve met him before at the bogs. He’s my only friend.”
“Yes,” the boy replied immediately, eyes sparkling with dark enjoyment. “And we'd be closer friends in the near future.”
“Ah.” A thunderous crack rang in Ceto's head as all sounds ceased save for the ringing in her ears. Focus narrowing to the spot where the boy held Medusa, she spoke, her voice devoid of its previous softness. “Let go of my child, Poseidon."
“Ceto, our beautiful rose,” Poseidon exclaimed as if shocked. “How I rejoice. There's a swell of excitement right here.” He patted the spot over his heart. “A miracle I have witnessed. May Zeus bless this day, for at last Ceto recognised me. She called my name!”
A cloak fell upon Ceto's mind, folded tightly and made nothing of the restraints that once existed.
A child screamed, the shrill sound sharp with terror, but Ceto's vision remained honed on Poseidon. Now he appeared even smaller, as if she were peering down at him from a great height. Breathing suddenly felt difficult, but it was okay. All she needed was this rage, this fury boiling the blood in her veins.
He dared to lay his hand on her child. He met Medusa at the bogs! What did he do to her? Was no one present? How can I kill him?
Ceto swooped down, mouth wide open, the air around it cooking with heat. I don't understand what's happening to my body. I don't care. I must get him away from my children.
Her jaw snapped shut over where he stood, but he was missing. Must have leapt away at the last moment. Whipping around—no, my neck is the only part that moved. Why does my neck feel so long? It doesn't matter. Must find that swine. And kill him. Must kill him now.
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Throwing her head back, a screech tore past her lips. Her mouth felt too wide. Teeth felt too sharp. Her breath was hot. Breathing was hard. But I must kill him. Ripples formed across the sky as an unfamiliar energy blasted past her maws and travelled high enough to disturb the clouds.
What am I doing? My body is too large. Someone was laughing. HIM! He is laughing. Still alive. Must kill him.
The raging thoughts breathed speed into her actions, and her movement grew swift despite this new, heavy size. She didn't need to see him to know. One of her tentacles moved like a fat whip, striking something sturdy. She saw him shoot through the sky with great force, sail over the distant cliff and strike the sea with a mighty crash.
She shot after him, her bulky build feeling weightless in the wind of her rage. She pierced the water, and he was there. Waiting with a glowing trident. Then he moved to stab her face. She screamed. Rippling waves formed, cooking the water where he swam. His skin boiled, but he was laughing as he continued stabbing. One stab pierced her chest. Another through the throat. Blood clouded the water.
Ceto felt no pain.
I must kill him.
Her tentacles rushed at him. One coiled around the trident, and the other, stiffening to a sharp point, stabbed through his left eye. He still laughed, braying in the water as if in the throes of comedic ecstasy.
Ceto's mind frayed as sanity fast departed. Fury turned her vision red. She pulled, sucking aether, gulping it down in massive waves as she formed a sphere.
If you wouldn't die, I would at least make you know pain that would shatter your mind like mine.
It continued forming between her jaws. A ball of spinning white light. She was weeping in the water, and she didn't know why.
I am furious. Why? Who did this to me? She suddenly couldn’t remember. But she knew she hated this trident wielder before her. That was enough reason to—
Phorcys appeared before her, snatching the trident just before it pierced the ball of light and hurled it away with a forceful throw. The orb fizzled to nothing.
Hovering within the familiar outline of a great sea beast, Phorcys turned from her in time to summon a massive wall of black glass. It resembled a frozen wave, holding maps of thin blue light spread across its surface like veins.
A boom caused the water to vibrate around her. The wall trembled as if struck by a heavy blow. Once. Twice. Then it shattered.
Poseidon floated at the other side in his adult form, still grinning. “Our silent general spoiled the party.”
The trident had returned to his grip, and he rested it across his shoulders with his arms looped around it.
“Rose, your temper is always a beauty to behold.” He dared to swim nearer. “We should continue, you and I. We are water people. We can rule together,” he said, blatantly ignoring Phorcys.
Phorcys turned from him. “Return to me, Ceto. I will cover you.” As he spoke, a white sheet appeared in his grip, unfurling in the water.
A sigh, pouring from the deepest part of her soul, escaped past her maws. And she listened, shrinking and shrinking until Phorcys covered her with the sheet and carried her
“Let's return to our daughter. I kept her safe.”
Ceto clung to him as shivers racked her body. What was that? What did I turn into in front of my child? That scream of terror. It was Medusa. My appearance horrified her.
As Phorcys turned, Poseidon’s words stopped him.
“Are you not curious why I visited?”
When Ceto attempted to look behind, Phorcys patted her head. “No need to look. Medusa is safe. He can't touch her.”
Poseidon’s cold laughter travelled over, strangling her. “Oh, but I did touch her. I even got a hair strand. All I needed, actually.”
Phorcys flinched.
Ceto looked at her husband's face. In the water, with his dark hair moving about his face and his eyes dimmed like that. Was he worried? What did a hair strand mean? Was it like Ceto's blood?
“Let's go.” With that, Phorcys shot forward, never slowing until they reached the shore.
He didn't run, but his steps were long and urgent. Ceto observed his face, confused. Then she spotted his neck. Lines of blood leaked from the spots the thorns pressed.
Biting her lips, she shut her eyes. He exerted himself too much and was suffering. I should have remained calm. I should have—
“We must leave.”
“What?” Ceto's mind went blank. Leave? Were they not cast out from Olympus and banished to Hesperides? Any attempt to leave would alert him. “Please, don't. He would come as he did before and kill everyone. I'm sorry for following my rage.” She clutched his garment. “Please, we can't leave.”
“Zeus is not omnipotent,” Phorcys replied gently. “His only tether to me is the pilos thistles.” He gestured at his neck. “We can leave, and we will leave.”
The tears came, silent and persistent. Just this morning, everything was bright and good. That worry, the lingering fear at the back of her mind, was justified. He would find them. Ceto knew in her heart that he would. But if they just remained quiet, as they had in the past, surely he would leave them alone.
“He never planned to leave us be, Ceto. It's time to act.” His voice, though level, held a damning finality. “Give me all the blame. Curse at me. Hate me. I brought this upon us.”
Ceto shut her eyes tight. There was the sound of doors opening. Servants rushing. The new servants. Would they die too? That pile of death.
Phorcys was speaking, but she wasn't listening. She wanted to forget once more, to remain blissfully unaware. But there was this sorrowful remembrance. In the past, they had sent Medusa off, then he visited soon after.
It would happen again.
Phorcys settled her on a soft surface. Ceto opened her eyes and saw that they were in their bedroom. He dried her body with a burst of aether.
“He would not get us this time.” He retrieved a peplos and walked over, helping her shrug it on. “I promise on the Moirai.”
A weak laugh escaped. “Don't tell me you… You continue to hold her hand.”
Phorcys hunkered to her eye level. Clear green eyes, solemn face. That air of determination as he tucked her hair behind her ear. “This time… I promise it's different this time.”
You don't know that.
Ceto reached for the thorns, but he gently caught her wrist. “Forget about Zeus. I beg you to trust me this once.”
“But…” Ceto forced her mind to work, to voice her worrying thoughts. “What about Stheno and Euryale? Have you thought of them? What about your sister? If we leave… if we leave, Zeus will—”
“Euryale is now under House Ares. As for Stheno… do not worry.”
Ceto met his eyes, exposing every misgiving, every trepidation. What sort of fire was Phorcys playing with? How could he forget who their enemies were? From the start, his quiet nature had shrouded an iron will—an unrepentant spirit of rebellion. What have I gotten myself and my children into?
Suddenly, she remembered their first child. A beautiful boy named Ladon. How he was snatched away when he turned ten. Now I see why I preferred to forget, to live like a ghost.
“You promised in the past as well. But he still took Ladon.”
Phorcys’ expression instantly darkened. Fire, unlike anything she had ever seen before, burned in his eyes.
“And that is why.” His voice cracked with quiet rage. “That is exactly why I can't stop.”
Ceto burst into tears. She wished to flee, but she remained frozen. Where would she go? Every step felt like running on the palm of Zeus’ hand. How could she have forgotten this rage that consumed Phorcys, the final push that forced him to join hands with the Moirai? We are doomed from every point.
“Ah, I want to die.” She hugged herself. Maybe she should wait for him to come. Maybe he would kill her this time. Maybe death will finally be possible.
Phorcys embraced her, careful to lean away because of the thorns. “When death comes, we shall face it together.”
“Death never comes. This is torment.”
Phorcys stroked her hair and whispered with a steady voice. “They took our children. Let us give our rage an aim; burn with me.”
“But they are too strong.” Ceto's tears ceased as his anger pressed into her fear, morphing it. They did take her children, and now that vile man has set his gaze on her youngest. He was filthy.
“There are higher powers, Ceto.” He leaned back and met her gaze again. He no longer appeared enraged; now his eyes were imploring. “I swear there is a way. Zeus did not always sit at the top.”
Ceto cradled his face as more of her fear faded. That determination remained in his eyes without a shadow of uncertainty. Then her focus fell on the thorn, and the flame of her fury exploded tenfold.
“It's fine,” she mumbled, feeling ease sip into her bones. It really was fine. This was a better decision. Though she was unaware of how much time had passed, she felt its weight anyway. So long prostrate at the feet of the oppressor. Begging as they put them through an endless loop of humiliating punishments. Truly, it was fine.
“I will follow you,” Ceto said, voice soft but will hardening with a mirrored determination. “Just tell me what I must do.”
Phorcydes (or Phorcides) is another name for the Graeae. Three grey ancient sisters who shared an eye and tooth (what sort of horror...) Ugh.
I left a poll cause I'm madly curious.
I'm a myth-head, btw. I inhale it like oxygen
Until next Saturday!
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