Goddess of the Night

There weren’t always dragons in the Valley, and this isn’t the first time we are meeting; in fact, we’ve met many times before throughout your cardinal life. Our first meeting was when you were a small barefoot child. I whispered the words of wisdom and power into your ear as you concocted potions of blades of soft grass and clear water. As you grew older, my whispers could not be heard over the noise of your evolving mind, so I resorted to other forms of communication. We met that moonless night you felt something in your stomach that told you to walk a bit faster. We met again when you looked up at the star-painted sky and shared that you felt alone. We’ve met countless times in your deepest dreams and occasionally as you woke to moving shadows on the walls of your bedroom. You see, we know one another and with intimacy, but let me introduce myself once more. My name is Hecate, and I am the goddess.

Her hair was as white as snow and her lips were pink like the coral of the ocean. Nestled amongst her thick long curls, she wore a golden crown that resembled the hot sun's rays. Her skin was constantly sun-kissed and her eyes shone like the constellations above something she was intimately familiar with. She was undoubtedly beautiful and could charm with only a glance. Asteria was believed to see the past and the future just by looking at the stars above her. She was powerful in her way but often timid. She moved through life with one foot hesitant and the other intrigued. She was a nymph, but sadly, unlike her counterparts, could not produce a child. She had longed for a child of her own to nurture and teach the language of the stars to. After years of waiting, Asteria challenged the night’s sky to reveal her fate and future. The stars revealed that she was to be the mother of a daughter that even the gods feared. Day after day, Asteria looked up at the sky above her and prayed to Demeter, the goddess of the harvest and fertility, to allow her to bear this child. “Demeter, I ask of you, bring this great child into my realm,” she pleaded. As the years passed without a single response, she decided to paint the sky with a constellation known as Andromeda. The constellation shone as bright as Asteria’s snowy white hair and quickly became a compass for those who dared to challenge Poseidon, the sea god. It was a laboring work of art devoted to capturing the attention of the other gods and goddesses, for surely someone would note her talents and grace her with a daughter. Her brilliant stars stretched larger than the moon and were over half of the size of the famous Hydra, the serpent star known for tricking the gods. Asteria walked to the edge of the sea every moon-filled night and waited for her message to be received. She stood with intention and strength, for she was promised a daughter, and the stars never lie.

Time shifted to a place of war, and chaos took shape amongst the mortals. It was as though every mortal was called to prove their worth to gods not through compassion but instead destruction. This pleased many of the gods, for they dined on the drama created in their name, and nothing brought them more excitement than seeing the mortals suffer. Like many war gods, this destruction called on Perses, the destroyer, to aid in the success of the wars. He was a son of Crius, the god of constellations, and was raised alongside two brothers, Pallas and Astraeus. He was strikingly handsome, like most gods. His skin was a deep olive, and his eyes were as black as ashes of the wars he participated in. He was the quiet type and enjoyed studying gods and mortals alike. Perses was one of many war gods and had no temples in his name or offerings of food and gold. His brother Pallas was also known as a powerful god of war, and it wasn’t uncommon for them to be on opposite sides. Pallas delighted in the game of war and creating entertainment for the other gods. Perses preferred strategy and wisdom over death despite being the god of destruction. In the early wars, he came to the battlefields at the request of soldiers and designed military strategies that would cultivate a war for years to come. Often his carefully crafted strategies resulted in villages torn apart, neighbors turning on one another, and mass devastation for decades. He enjoyed plotting rather than chaos, which showed in the wars he graced his presence with. The delicious destruction came slowly but with a deep-rooted poison he shared with the mortals. Perses’s wisdom was unknown, but to some, he was regarded as the most intelligent of all the war gods. As years passed, his meticulous strategies took shape into something unalike and ultimately fleeting. For he recognized the potential for a peace that follows a bloody war and the restoration it brought to mortals. Perses found solace in resolution and pause. He was intrigued by the mortals' ability to adapt and move on, for the gods always held a grudge. As a war one long year was closing, he glanced up at the night’s sky as he often did. He was gifted a constellation by his brother Astraeus, god of the planets and stars, after an intricate battle was fought and won many hundred years before. Though not terribly close, Astraeus wanted to recognize his brother and the power of the war's destruction. It was later falsely claimed by Perseus, the son of Zeus and the slayer of Medusa, as his prize and token. Perses loved knowing the truth of his stars in the night’s sky and the ruination they represented. As he took in the stars above, he noticed something he had yet to see on his battlefields. It was a winding

constellation made surely by a god or goddess in service to Demeter. Its patterns and detail were powerful, unlike his father's often rushed work. He confronted his brother about the star pattern of the sky, to which he replied, “I am not the only bender of the stars. This must be the work of Asteria.”

He had not known of Asteria but admired her all the same. He asked the other gods and goddesses for information. His strategic mind ran wild with plans of wooing the mysterious star goddess. As the years passed, Perses continued to admire the constellation Andromeda and began speaking to it as the dark nights fell on the battlefield. He whispered his deepest wishes and the truth about the peace he summoned through his war strategies. In part, he hoped Asteria was listening and would come to him. Asteria did hear his whispers and had known their fate hundreds of years before, as the stars had shared with her. She arrived to him as the mortals concluded their endless battle, reaching a quiet and tired pause. She stood tall without caution on the battlefield underneath her own constellation on a dark night with a bright moon. She was a vision in her endless white gown flowing with the winds of the nearby salty sea and her golden crown catching the light specks of the stars above. Her dark curls moved all directions. “You’ve whispered to me for many years, and now I am here,” She spoke as she glowed in the yellow of the moon. Perses was in love before he even touched her delicate skin and stroked her soft hair. “You have led me through the dark, and now I am yours,” he whispered gently into her ear. Asteria had been alone for most of her life and dreamed of a companion with whom she could share her days. There was a love that felt timeless and rich with trust. Asteria was euphoric in the presence of Perses and dreamed about their fate to come. 

Perses and Asteria built a home on a small island near Crete. The home was designed of marble stone with many rooms and a long wooden dining table. They preferred only the company of one another but fashioned the space for the children of their future. Perses preferred to be near the mortals to answer the calls for what was no longer destruction but peace, and Asteria enjoyed the island's open space to watch the clear skies. They were married on a translucent night with only the stars as their witnesses. Perses wore a milky white chiton with a dark blue cloak thrown over his right shoulder in honor of the darkness his future wife delighted in. His classic tanned leather sandals had been shined for the occasion, and he wore a kotinos made of a woven olive branch cut from a tree at Olympia. Asteria dressed in a long peplos that traced the ground beneath her as she walked. She had placed detailed brooches to hold the fabric on each of her bronzed shoulders. A lone wedding gift was left in their home several hours before the soundless ceremony, a crown made of delicate golden stars. The gift was crafted by Aphrodite herself as she knew their hearts had been destined for a love unlike many. There are few things that Aphrodite enjoyed as much as pure love and romance. They stood on the island’s cliff and declared to the wind that they were bound for the rest of time. After the wedding, Perses carried Asteria to their bedroom in which a soft mattress was placed on a bed made of quartz. As they lay side by side, there was a deep inner knowing that their love would continue to blossom like the island’s purple aconite and the windflowers. Their pleasure only deepened by the years of anticipation, and together they laid for days of enjoyment as they wrapped their tan-skinned bodies against one another. Perses kissing her warm body and soft lips. Sex between gods and goddess often resulted in broken furniture, homes collapsing, and power unknown to even the strongest mortal. Perses and Asteria’s love was no exception. After weeks of pleasure resulting in a ruined stone home, they moved outdoors to seek pleasure on the island's sandy beaches and quiet corners. It was weeks before the marble was reconstructed, and the rooms were designed once again. Together, Perses and Asteria crafted a life of wonder and ease. It wasn’t common for gods and goddesses to be enraptured in the normalcy of daily living, but they were the exception to this rule. Perses spent his days playing chess games to create new strategies and reading old leather-bound books. As he had no adoring mortals or altars of offerings, he adjusted to a more mortal life with no ego. He preferred to learn and inflate his wisdom. Asteria studied the sky while dipping her toes in the chilly water and talked to the ghosts of sailors lost at sea. She had long spoken with ghosts and often chose their company over others. She continued to seek clarity about the child that was to be, but her calls went unanswered. Perses and Asteria lounged in the sun beside one another, deepening their already golden skin, and drank red wine on the moon-drenched nights. Their love grew stronger with every passing year, and the contentment built into a friendship unfamiliar to gods. Asteria was joyful but longed for what was to come, the daughter her future promised her. She had never ventured to share his information with Perses, out of fear that her daughter was not meant to be his, but with every coming solstice, she was emboldened to speak. On a day of sun with little night, she decided to share her secret with Perses. “Our lives, while so complete, surely must be missing something. I will bear a child, and that child will be a she.” Perses became overjoyed by this development, and together they shared the hope of what was to come. “Unlike the stars, we have endless time to burn, and our daughter will be worth waiting for.”

Unlike the other gods, it was unusual for Perses and Asteria to travel to Olympus. They had little interest in parties, devotion, and the ceaseless spectacles that played out to amuse the gods. However, Perses received word that his brother Astraeus was to be wed to the goddess Eos. They were to have an elaborate party in the presence of the other gods and goddesses. Astraeus had wanted to spare no expense in honoring the occasion and draped the sky with new planets for his bride. Eos was uninterested in astrology and preferred the rise of dawn instead of the evening hours. They were an unmatched couple, but Astraeus had wanted a beautiful wife. Olympus was brimming with talent, beauty, and an endless supply of stories for the wedding celebration. The halls were drenched with offerings, food, and slow-burning candles. While this wedding wasn’t considered an important event for most gods and goddesses, few could deny a reason to celebrate. Every surface of the Olympus main hall was donned in vibrant flowers, tapestries of gold, and velvet cushions for resting long into the night. There was quick dancing and glasses of wine that refilled with each sip as a gift of Dionysus, the god of ecstasy. Thick scents of myrrh hung in the air, and the mood was one of excitement. Zeus graced the guests with a story about Athena’s strength and a long-fought battle. For she was his favorite daughter, and despite himself, he was quite proud of her abilities. In quiet corners of Olympus, there were untold couples sharing moments of pleasure, and the gossip surrounding the bride Eos flowed as easily as the deep wine. The wedding was officiated by Hera, the goddess of marriage, and she delivered a long-winded speech about life after marriage. Eos appeared uninterested, but Astraeus was beaming with pride. They both wore traditional wedding clothes and crowns made of thick gold. Flower petals rested underneath their new leather sandals, and the air smelled of roses. After the ceremony concluded, Eos quickly disappeared as the day turned to night. She had a lover she had gifted with immortality known as Tithonus, and marriage would not change her ways. Nonetheless, Astraeus danced and celebrated the matrimony with drunken joy. Perses and Asteria, despite themselves, relished in the lighthearted environment and freedom of the gods. They drank infinitely and without hesitation. Perses found himself on a pillowy chaise to rest towards the end of night and Asteria was left conversing with her sister Leto. Together they watched as Leto’s twins Apollo and Artemis played harmless pranks on unfortunate drunken gods. The twins were always up to something but powerful. Asteria leaned in closer to her sister, “It has been years since we’ve spoken, but I am to be a mother.” Leto as the goddess of motherhood was elated but deeply haunted given her own difficult birth. As she and Zeus had shared but one intimate moment that resulted in her twins. Hera, Zeus’s first wife, had banished her to deliver on a barren island as Zeus largely denied the encounter happened. It had taken her years to find her way back to the good graces of Olympus, and now Zeus only accepts the children for the greatness they have become. Leto took in the sight of her sister and did not feel the presence of a child. “When will the child come?” she asked with concern. Asteria explained her years of waiting and the future of the daughter that will arrive. In hearing her story, she understood the depth of this longing and the complexities of the hope she was holding tightly. Leto clasped the hands of her sister, “She will be yours, and she will be beautiful.” 

In that same evening, Leto walked alone in the halls of Olympus, looking for a god and a closed room. As we wandered, she heard the soft cries of a baby. Leto stumbled into the room and discovered a lavish nursery with an intricate crib. Surely the crib was gifted by the god Helios for it resembled his own golden chariot. The walls were adorned by works of art, paintings depicting heroic stories of Zeus, and a sculpture of a celestial star crafted by Hephaestus. She recognized this was the room of the recently born daughter of Zeus and Demeter. She had overheard a rather mundane conversation earlier in the night about the birth of this yet-to-be-named baby girl. It was barely known that Demeter had given birth, and hardly remarkable as Zeus had nearly a hundred children, perhaps even thousands. Once Persephone was born, it was decided by Demeter that little would matter as much as her firstborn, her rather exceptional daughter. The gods rarely raised their own offspring and preferred mortals to help with their endless care. Nurturing was much too tedious for most goddesses. This baby was left alone, and her cries echoed throughout the halls of Olympus. There was no mortal handmaid or even an enchantment of a harp’s lullaby to soothe her back to sleep. Leto’s natural connection to motherhood encouraged her to swaddle the baby tightly and with care. The baby settled quickly in her arms and looked within her with deep plum eyes. Almost immediately, she was struck by the dark hair already formed on the baby's head and the glistening skin she possessed. She was undoubtedly a baby of Zeus, and her power could be felt. Leto rocked the baby gently and glanced out the window at the star-filled night. A dark plan was forming in her mind, and she whispered to the baby girl she held tightly, “She will be yours, and she will be beautiful.”

Her hair was as dark as ash and constantly unruly. It was filled with long thick curls that found their way across her face on wind-filled afternoons. Her eyes were dark with flecks of deep purple. She was mystical and loved nothing more than to talk to the moon on warm nights. Asteria had found the baby swaddled with care, waiting for them in a woven basket on their quiet island after returning home from Olympus. She knew this was the child she had been waiting for and named her Hecate, meaning far away. For Asteria thought how far she must have traveled to have taken so many years to find her way home to them. Perses quickly crafted a crib made of driftwood from the island’s sandy beaches, and Asteria gathered flowers to breathe color into Hecate’s nursery. Almost immediately, animals found their way to the island, and it wasn’t uncommon for several black dogs to be watching over her bed at night. They understood their daughter’s mysterious power and enjoyed seeing it unfold with every new day. Perses and Asteria embraced this beginning and doted on their daughter with unconditional love. They delighted in watching her grow and explore the home they had built together so many years before. Perses shared his infinite wisdom and strategy with Hecate as she grew in the form of long bedtime stories. Asteria gifted her with the intimate knowledge of the stars, which only deepened Hecate’s love of the dark night. She would sleep most of the day and preferred to roam the island in the evening hours. She often returned carrying snakes in her pocket and various herbs she had discovered. Often poisonous herbs to all but her. Hecate was full of power, and Asteria shared that with her often. They fostered her growing power in any way they could, often bringing rare books from Athens and mortal philosophers to serve as teachers. As Hecate grew, she asked what lay beyond the island. She wanted to explore the lands of the unhappy mortals and journey to Olympus to meet the gods and goddesses she had been told about her whole life. She grew restless and ventured farther and farther during the moonlit nights. In all Perses’s wisdom, he took her to his family in Olympus, and Asteria was proud to do the same. They dreamed of sharing their powerful daughter with all of Olympus. For Hecate was a name that was unlikely to be forgotten.

Their arrival to Olympus was welcomed, and the gods were intrigued by the dark-haired plum-eyed girl. They loved speculating about the powers that would be and the origin of the daughter that appeared from the stars. Artemis and Hecate chased the black horses of Olympus together, whispering their childhood stories and tales of the gods. Asteria and Perses beamed at the praise of their beautiful daughter and the power that all of Olympus could feel. As the celebration continued, the wine flowed freely, with gods and goddesses arriving to see the enchanted daughter. Gossip spread throughout the lands, and no one wanted to be without a glimpse. Hecate’s confidence was brimming, and she ran alongside Artemis in the halls of Olympus with a feverish desire to explore. It was Zeus that spotted the girl and instantly recognized her as his own. Despite his many children, he could sense the power that lived within her, and only he could produce a child of that potential. Zeus, among many things, possessed an infinite supply of wisdom and quickly connected Hecate as Demeter’s daughter. “Come to me child.” Zeus held her small glistening cheeks in his hands. He noticed something unusual about the girl, something he had not seen before. Guiding her with a hand on her shoulder, he made his way into the main hall of Olympus. The gods and goddesses were silenced by the attention gifted to the girl. Zeus paused in the quiet room before turning to Asteria and Perses. He was not unhappy about the daughter’s abduction, but he didn’t care for not knowing the details of her disappearance. Demeter had casually said the daughter had gone missing, and he had assumed she had been placed with royal mortals until a more mature age. Zeus relished the discomfort of the pause he was creating; he loved a story and a punishment. “Asteria, and Perses, this is my daughter of Demeter, and her abduction now falls on you.” Panic filled the room, and the gods shared theories. Some even boasting they knew this information, despite it being impossibly so. Asteria and Perses clutched Hecate’s delicate hand, “I assure you, Zeus, this is our daughter of the stars, and we do not know what you speak of,” Perses voiced with strength. “She is not, and you will have to pay the price if you want to keep her.” Zeus was known for crafting the harshest of punishments, and in the presence of other gods, he felt emboldened. “If you keep this child, she will never know you, Asteria. You will continue to raise her as your own, but each night she will forget you all the same. For motherhood is what you desired, but you will never be remembered as one.” The clear shadow of a dragon appeared on the cold walls of Olympus at that moment. The dark mark of a beginning, and an end.