by Lizzy Ford
Long simmering anger threatened to spike at the appearance of Zeus, the god with the power to end the curse that suspended the Bloodline bearers in a state of living death lasting all of eternity. My emotions were already difficult to control tonight. I wasn’t certain if my sense of duty would prevail when confronting the god with whom I’d been furious since learning my fate. I simultaneously hated what he had done to my family and loved him for blessing mortals with life, and the warring emotions distracted me to the point I forgot to offer any sign of deference before he spoke.
“Hello, Phoibe, my sweet child.” The head of the Greek pantheon greeted me quietly.
Hello, Father, I gave the traditional address which my family alone was permitted to give. I dropped into a deep curtsey. The sounds of rustling and movement filled the chamber as everyone around me hastily did the same.
“Still you do not speak.” He sounded both gruffly disapproving and amused.
No, Father, I replied mentally, fully aware the gods and goddesses were able to hear me.
The possessed priest shifted closer to me and knelt.
“You cannot escape your fate forever, young one,” Zeus said through his human puppet. “You know this.”
In a kneeling curtsey, I stared at the floor at my feet. My heart pounded hard in my chest, and it became even more difficult to draw a breath. If he was aware that I knew of the curse, he would also understand how angry I was with him. His knowledge should not have surprised me, given he was the most powerful of the gods, but I didn’t expect him to scold me. How could he believe I, or anyone else, would ever welcome such a fate? I could never forgive him for what he’d done to my family, and yet, my eyes filled with tears at the prospect of displeasing the mighty Zeus.
I’m so sorry to disappoint you, Father. I said. I truly regretted upsetting him – and my weakness turned the direction of my anger inward.
“I admire your spirit, Phoibe,” he added. “For now, your defiance amuses me. But be warned this will not always be the case. You cannot defy the will of your gods forever. You are too young yet to understand the importance of the gift bestowed upon your family.”
I clenched my fists and kept my head down, so he couldn’t see the anger in my eyes.
“Rise, Queen Phoibe. Your family bears the mark of the chosen,” he said, referring to the birthmark shaped like an omega on my inner wrist. “You do not kneel like a mortal.”
I stood slowly, set my shoulders and lifted my chin.
The High Priest of Zeus stepped back from me.
“Let it be known and recorded I have given my personal blessing to this ceremony, and to your new Queen.” Zeus’ voice rang out loud, rich and deep. “The relationship between the Bloodline and the pantheon has never been stronger than it is today. No mortal, or god, will stand between my chosen children and me, and those who dare to dishonor this sacred bond will earn my wrath.” He faced me again. “Your reign, Queen Phoibe, my Silent Queen, will be unlike the reign of any other member of the Bloodline. For this reason, you will be the first ruler blessed with the appointment of two holy guardians from among the members of the pantheon, whom you may call upon as you would a mother or father. You know the first, Artemis, who has so diligently cared for you since your birth.”
Theodocia, now also possessed by the spirit of the goddess she served, stepped forward.
“My daughter. You need only ask, and I will provide,” she said.
My anger melted. Artemis had been with me since I was a child. Where I experienced confusion and anger whenever I thought of Zeus, I knew only love and admiration when it came to Artemis.
She dipped her finger into the anointing oil and drew a bow on my forehead before stepping aside with a deferential bow to Zeus.
Surprised by the honor of two patrons after his warning, I waited for Zeus to reveal who my second guardian was.
Another priest moved in the third row, indicating he was likely a minor god, and I strained discreetly to see his mark to identify which one. His name would hopefully help me interpret what it meant when Zeus said my reign would be unlike any other’s.
An inverted torch was tattooed on the forehead of the High Priest moving towards us.
No, I thought forcefully enough I was afraid I spoke the word aloud.
If the chamber were quiet before, it became a graveyard when everyone present realized whom Zeus had chosen.
The High Priest bearing the torch stopped before me, and I gazed up at him. For the sake of my station, I didn’t let my horror bleed through to my expression. But I felt coldness to my core.
“Thanatos,” Zeus announced.
Thanatos, who knew neither mercy nor failure.
Thanatos, whom every mortal and immortal faced eventually.
Thanatos, the God of Death.
I glanced at Theodocia, wishing she weren’t possessed by a goddess, so she could give me one of her warm smiles. I never felt as alone as I did that moment, surrounded by dignitaries and deities, facing Thanatos. Death would come for everyone at some point, but there was nothing like standing before him and feeling my own human frailty.
Why him? Was this an omen of what was to come?
My breathing was harsh in my ears. Hearing it, I squared my shoulders and forced myself to focus on my carriage and position rather than what was before me. I looked Thanatos in the face and forbade myself from quaking in his presence.
“You need not fear, my child,” came Artemis’ soft voice. “I will be with you every day of your reign.”
“As will I,” Thanatos seconded.
The silence grew too much as I stared into the eyes of Death.
What does this mean? I asked finally, unable to control my emotions long enough to rationalize what was before me.
“That is up to you,” Zeus replied for our ears only. “This comes at the petition of someone we all hold dear to us, the Oracle of Delphi. She has revealed to me a portion of the future. Upon hearing what she has foreseen, I approved her request. You will need Thanatos, my queen.”
I had never met the Oracle. She lived in Washington DC, at the compound housing my secondary palace, which I would travel to after my coronation ceremony. Only upon becoming the Queen of Greece could I take my place as the official third member of the Sacred Triumvirate, alongside the Supreme Magistrate and Supreme Priest, both of whom were in attendance today.
Zeus continued. “The Queen of Death does not have the same ring to it as Silent Queen does for certain. Perhaps you should remember this, if you ever decide to call upon your patron.”
Never, I thought before I could stop myself. In the distant past, before the world was conquered and divided up, my forbearers led great armies across the Middle and Far East and into Europe, Asia and Africa. They tamed the world before Greece fell from power and the Bloodline was reduced to a symbol of the unity of gods and mortals rather than a military powerhouse. In another time, perhaps I would have welcomed Thanatos at my side.
But I was unable to imagine how I was supposed to benefit from such a patron in this day and age and could only view his presence before me as a reminder I, too, would one day lose my mortal body and be forced to surrender to the curse of the Bloodline that would render me immortal and frozen in stone for all time.
What had the Oracle of Delphi foreseen? What could the future possibly hold that required Thanatos at my side?
It took every last piece of my willpower not to back away when Thanatos claimed the anointment oil from Theodocia and reached out to me. But I did close my eyes. The fingertip that drew the sign of the God of Death on my forehead was cold and sent a streak of fear through me.
“Let his presence in your life be a reminder to you, my young queen,” Zeus cautioned quietly. “The Fates, while temperamental, have a preferred path for each of us. There will come a time when you must face yours.”
Yes, Father. It was all I could think of to say. I was too overwhelmed by the idea Thanatos himself was supposed to become a fixture in
my life, in the same way Artemis had been. Not only this, but the most powerful people in the world had witnessed his appointment. How was I to maintain the influence of the Bloodline when everyone knew I’d been touched by Death?
This time, I wanted to cry for a very different reason.
“It does not escape my notice I am being appointed a guardian to the Bloodline, the only creatures with souls who defy me when I beckon.” Thanatos’ tone was terse. “Through the grace of Zeus, your predecessors never truly die, Queen Phoibe. If you are at a loss as to how I have been assigned to you, I am even less satisfied. I believe it to be a personal insult.”
His reluctance and bitterness convinced me he spoke the truth about not knowing why we were put together. I sensed his last comment was meant for Zeus, who was never under any obligation to offer an explanation to anyone for any action he chose to undertake. But Thanatos was right. The members of my Bloodline technically didn’t die. We faced a destiny worse than anything the God of Death could do to us. Of any god or goddess in creation, Thanatos was the last deity who ever should have been appointed as my guardian.
Which made this experience more unsettling. If the god chosen as my patron didn’t know why he was selected, and resented the sacred Bloodline for rebuffing his power for ten thousand years, what exactly was in my future that would require the two of us to co-exist, if not cooperate? Artemis’ influence was inextricably entwined in my life, personified by Theodocia, who had become like a mother to me. The goddess guided Theodocia’s decisions and actions, and the goddess spoke to me regularly through Theodocia as well.
No part of me believed I would ever have such a warm relationship with the God of Death, even if my circumstances hadn’t already excluded me from his influence. He would never become a father figure, and he held only one purpose and role in the pantheon: to guarantee Hades a steady supply of souls for the underworld.
His baffling appointment was a bad omen, any way I considered it, and I found myself yearning for the ceremony to be over so I could consult with Theodocia.
Without another word of objection, Thanatos stepped away. I centered myself the best I could before opening my eyes.
The ceremony continued in the same subdued, tense manner. Zeus removed the jewel-laden crown of Greece from its place atop a plush, velvet pillow. He placed it on my head and held it as two of my servants raced forward to adjust it. When the heavy crown was secured, Zeus then handed me the scepter of Greece, a gold rod inlaid with filigree and writing and topped by brilliant purple gems. It was heavy and cold to the touch.
He moved away, and I concentrated on holding the scepter without affecting my balance. At fourteen, I was considered frail in stature despite my ravenous eating habits and physical activity.
The two priests and Theodocia took simultaneous deep breaths. Their glazed expressions faded, and they began to move naturally once more. Likewise, the gods and goddesses released the holds on their respective clergy members in the three rows behind them.
No one spoke for a long moment, as if everyone in the chamber were trying to figure out why Thanatos had been appointed my patron. Finally, the High Priest of Zeus stepped forward.
“May I present to you, the Queen of Greece, Sole Protector of the Bloodline, mortal daughter to the gods, ward of Artemis and Thanatos, and member of the Sacred Triumvirate, who has been extraordinarily blessed by our Holy Father,” he announced.
The men and women present in the room all bowed and curtseyed. All I cared about was trying to read the features of Theodocia. She had her public face on, but the skin around her eyes was tight. She was worried. If not for the reception following my official succession to the throne of Greece, I’d take her aside and talk. However, my first act as the queen couldn’t be a selfish one. I’d been schooled since I was four about how to behave in accordance with my royal birthright. Duty always came first. Later, we would talk.
A harp began playing. It was my cue to exit the ceremony.
Turning, I waited for my servants to straighten the long train of my gown before I paced gracefully down the purple carpet towards the chamber’s exit. The crown of Greece was heavy on my head, the scepter threatening my balance with each step. I moved slowly. My audience had enough to talk about already without me tripping and providing more gossip for them to spread.
Reeling from the unexpected twist to my coronation ceremony, I followed two priests of Apollo blindly through the temple and into the basement, a space large enough to host everyone present, for a low key, celebratory soiree. My assigned position was on a simple bench on a dais at the center of the room. I walked as elegantly as possible given the uncomfortable weight of crown, clothing and scepter and took my seat while my servants fixed the bunched up dress and train. Only when I appeared flawless did they allow the others to enter, in order of perceived importance.
One by one, men and women approached the dais, bowed or curtseyed, offered a few words of congratulations, and then stepped away to form small cliques and enjoy the three thousand year old wine imported from Greece for this event.
Managing to nod my head in acknowledgement after each person spoke, I barely heard any of their words. The marking of Thanatos on my forehead burned with coldness to the point it hurt, and I began to wonder if his appearance had a more ominous meaning than I originally thought. Was the Oracle of Delphi trying to tell me I’d be the first of my Bloodline to die a real death? I had never thought about a true, natural death. Such a heavy thought left me as distressed as I became whenever I thought about spending eternity in stone.
Suddenly, I could think of nothing I wanted more than to meet the Oracle and ask her why she petitioned Zeus to insert Thanatos into my life, and why Zeus had agreed.
Pensive, I reacted mechanically to my subjects. Once each person paid homage to the Crown, they all moved away and began talking and eating amongst themselves, no doubt discussing how, of all the gods and goddesses out there, Thanatos had been chosen as my secondary guardian. How would world leaders react?
And the people? I held no true power over the people of the world, even if I were raised to consider every man, woman and child to be a subject under my guardianship. What would they think of their Silent Queen and her deathly benefactor?
So concerned and confused was I, I didn’t notice the latest subject to approach me until he spoke – into my mind.
You are too young for such worry.
I blinked and focused on the man standing in front of me. Whoever he was, he was young and striking, with brilliant green eyes, olive features, dark hair and a dazzling smile. I spent a lot of time watching movies with Tommy, and I’d never seen any actor more handsome than this man.
“But perhaps it is not misplaced,” he added quietly out loud.
I lifted my chin a notch, unimpressed with his tricks, despite his incredible looks. He wasn’t a god. They rarely took human form for any period of time. But normal humans weren’t able to speak to me through my mind, which left a hybrid – a demigod – who was classified as neither human nor god, and therefore, treated with general aversion by the rest of the world.
“You remain as smart as always,” he said.
Who are you? I demanded.
“A concerned subject,” he replied and bowed his head in an elegant display of deference. “One who bears a message for you.”
I waited.
“May I approach?”
I knew without looking my personal guard was always present. Four soldiers followed me wherever I went, outside of my personal quarters. They were as discreet as shadows and moved like lightning when required. No demigod was a threat when they were around.
With a single nod of my head, I granted the stranger’s request.
He drew nearer and knelt in a deep bow near the top of my feet. His frame was lean, his cologne pleasant without being overwhelming. When he met my gaze once more, I was almost too mesmerized to ask him what he wanted. At fourteen, I had a life very unlike that of normal teenagers,
but it didn’t mean I wasn’t aware of handsome men and didn’t often wonder what it would be like to have a boyfriend.
It didn’t seem likely, given who I was, that I ever would. My mother’s marriage was a match arranged by the clergy for the sole purpose of producing an heir to carry on the Bloodline. There was no room in my future for love or pursuing handsome men, according to the priestesses who tutored me. I was born with a humbling, important purpose, and I’d been raised to view fulfilling my duty as the ultimate, and only, achievement that mattered.
But the beauty, and charismatic smile, of this stranger made me wish I was normal, if only for half a day, so I could be like every other teenage girl or better yet, like the princesses who fell in love with their princes in the fairy tale movies I watched.
I didn’t like that feeling. I was one of the wealthiest people on the planet, enjoyed the favor of gods and mortals, and had been blessed by Zeus himself; there was no room for the sense of longing, of envy, I experienced as I gazed at the demigod kneeling before me and knew I would never be a princess from a movie who found her perfect prince.
And yet, I couldn’t suppress the emotion tumbling inside me.
What is it you wish to tell me? I asked him, eager to leave him and the strange feelings he caused behind.
“Do you have time to speak in private with an old friend?” he asked.
I studied him. Something was vaguely familiar about his eyes, but I didn’t fully recognize him. I’m afraid I don’t know you. However, if you wish to petition me for an audience, you can inform one of my priestesses.
“What’re you doing here?” Theodocia’s voice was level and tight. She approached from the direction of the door, bowed her head to me, then pinned the stranger with a glare.