Men can be persuasive. This Poseidon, we had much in common, with our ears to the murmurings of the oceans, the tides within the Earth, the rumblings and shakings of stones.
I do not forget any of the essences of being female, no. Believe me, we had our share of quakings and shattering of the walls of earth.
Perhaps I was not a quiet enough woman for that new world? I wuld not stop my dancing, still my voice, or quiet my anger.
Poseidon, ever envious of his brother and his brother’s favor, chose to repudiate her as he best knew how, as a male with a male’s aggressions, and I foolishly fell sway to his charms until he considered himself within my graces enough to try to desecrate my sister Athena’s temple, home of reason, precision, calmness, and clarity, with his seismic lust.
What does it matter today whether or not I consented? The walls cracked. My sister bade me leave her sight, betrayed by the part I had played. Eventually she betrayed me, as well, aiding a boy out to steal my fury to protect his mother.
I do not begrudge Perseus the weapons he cut of my corpse to ward a woman he loved from rape. But I have had time now to come to peace with mortality. I needed to walk the paths of death myself to truly know where it is that I steer your souls.
Where my spirit wandered since? That is another story.
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