of a brand-new age.’
I could not stop myself.
When he said these words
my acerbic tongue sprang to life.
‘Are all heralds powerless, Father?
Am I meant to be the only one
with no gifts to speak of?’
He gazed at me troubled, before saying,
‘Your brothers do not
have such fine gifts either, Styx.’
I glared at him.
‘You blessed each of them
to become a God of your rivers, Father.
Does that not count as a gift?’
I saw the dangerous storm
start to swirl in his eyes.
But then he closed them and said,
‘Oceanids will gain consorts
and through them,
you will find power.
And as my eldest,
you will gain the most power,
more than you realize.
But the Potamoi must
look after themselves.’
I seethed at his words.
‘Is that all I am made for?
To be a symbol of status for a consort
and never have anything of my own?’
My father sighed