Chapter Text
XXXIV. To Perse
Muse, tell me of loyal Perse, the fountain-born daughter of vengeful Poseidon and moaning Amphitrite, the dark-haired and bright-eyed champion of Styx, who wears Pallas Athena’s blessing as a cloak, whose smile brings Olympus to its knees, the spinner of riptides who dances from the waves to the skies, whose holy bird the Athenide flies the world round, she who wields Anaklusmos in fields of battle and carries her net of the fallen to dark Hades, the mother of godlings and patron of heroes, the guardian to whom women and children pray for home.
Upon this day the deathless gods came forth to seek the worship of Attica, yet unbound. The first king of Attica, Cecrops, a son of the earth with the tail of a serpent and body of a man, served as impartial judge of the contest. Poseidon came first to Attica, and struck the earth with his mighty trident, and from his blow sprung the sea they call Erekhtheis. The people cried in awe of this feat, the clearest of waters rushing forth from the fountain. Alas, the king Cecrops tasted of the clear waters and found it not the sweet bounty of the earth, but the salty, fruitless sea brought to land.
After him came Athena, who wove from mere sticks the first olive tree, springing pale-green with berries on the boughs, which she gave as gift to the city. So said she: ‘This I name the olive tree; its fruits made ready to be eaten and formed into oil, its leaves suitable for laurels, its boughs strong and sturdy.’ Lo! The serpent king cried, for Athena was first to plant the olive. He named her patron of Attica and granted the city the honor of her name.
Poseidon looked on in anger, and darkened the skies above. As the Earth shook in his hold, a single bough of the olive tree fell freely into the waters of Erekhtheis. As the Stormbringer raged, divine light graced his rejected gift. For there stood a girl, her wild, dark hair shimmering as though with moonlight, her sea-eyed gaze sharp and wise, as she stood in the armor of a warrior, her sword in hand. She named Poseidon as her father, as the vengeful god sought to flood the plains. His anger quieted, he lifted the girl to his eyes and clad her in a verdant robe, with coral, pearls, and lapis lazuli hanging from her neck and ears, a net of golden sea silk lain over her hair. The people cried out in awe, for in this sea-born goddess they beheld a match to golden Aphrodite, to wise Athena, and regal Hera.
So said the Earthshaker: ‘Look upon the gift I would have given you and despair. A daughter of the sea would have blessed your shores, her beauty unparalleled. She is no mere nymph, but a patron goddess. Instead you took the paltry fruits of the owl-eyed one and rejected our blessings. From now on this city, this Athens, shall hold no favor with the seas.’
Alas! Athena held her spear in his path. So cried she: ‘She is no mere daughter of the sea. She wears the aegis of wisdom, and walks armored as I did, when I leapt from my father’s skull. I name this goddess Athenide, patron of Athens, born of the olive branch as it graced the waters, the lady of the sword.”
The goddess said: “I am Perse, daughter of Poseidon. I cannot be your daughter, O Virgin Athena, for you are chaste. Let Athenide be the name of my aegis, she who first armored me, who guides the path with wisdom, who will grace Athens with inspiration.’ Lo! The blessing took shape as that of a lost bird, the albatross, who crosses the seas and glides on the winds. From thence the goddess was known as Perse, and her symbol Athenide. The people crowded to see her face, the king himself asking for her hand in marriage.
But the wrath of Poseidon could not be averted, for Athens rejected his gift and yet sought the fruit of it. So said the horse-lord: ‘You seek to honor Athena and yet disrespect my daughter in the same breath. You shall find no mercy from me, no peaceful tides, no homeward winds. Build your temples all you like, for Perse Poseidonide and Athenide Polias now leave your shores.’ He took the word of Athenide, asking to be brought below the waves, and absconded to the fruitless sea.
The winds carried the name of this new goddess across the lands, to the high mountain where wise Zeus reigns. The sun spoke of beauty in the image of the seas, armored in the aegis of wisdom. Angered, the Thundering King bid his daughter return to Olympus for breaking her vow of maidenhood.
So said he to solemn Athena: ‘Word tells of your broken vows, that you have sired a daughter in pursuit of a city. With Poseidon, who sires monsters and little else. I would have a reason, daughter, lest you invoke my anger further.’
Athena cried: ‘Nay, father! I have broken no vows; I am chaste and whole. The goddess Perse emerged a warrior as I did, born not of coupling but of the mingling of divine gifts, of my olive branch fallen to Erekhthius. I named her Athenide, yet she claimed it for her aegis, and Poseidon absconds with them both. Hark! For he guards her jealously beneath the seas, and would have her reject my blessing.’
This the wise Zeus pondered, for it was true that this goddess was his brother’s get, yet his daughter’s claim could bring her to surface. Thus he proclaimed: ‘Let it be that Perse Athenide must come from the seas to Olympus, half the year shared with the deathless gods and half spent beneath the waves.’
Thus Perse came to Olympus in loud procession, those creatures of the sea dancing before her to hear her laughter, her father’s horses carrying her proud and tall. Moaning Amphitrite walked at her side, her finest silks shared by her new daughter.
So said Poseidon before the deathless gods: ‘Hail Perse Palirroias Poseidonide! Daughter of the seas and weaver of riptides, patron of sailors and sea-travelers, she who carries luck on her wings and warning on the winds.’
The deathless gods wept to see her, clad in viridian and cerulean, a veil of gold over her dark hair. Rhea, mother to all gods, looked forth from her face. Golden Aphrodite herself lay stunned at her beauty. Sea-Lord Poseidon held her before him with pride, the greatest of his creations.
The King of the Skies, shrewd and clever, offered Perse many great gifts, of riches, of alliances, of power. Wise Athena laid her claim and offered the worship of households, and Glorious Hera offered Perse her greatest gift, that of marriage to her son Ares.
But lo! The riptide weaver refused them all. So said Perse: ‘No great gift shall bend my heart. I cannot take what is already kept in the heart of another. Know this, deathless gods of Olympus: I hold my vow to Athenide, my guardian, my love. I ask for her companionship in eternity; any who know this vow broken shall find no loyalty from thence, shall know no home where I will not find my vengeance. I swear so before the lady Styx, that I shall remain loyal for every eternity, that fate shall never tear us apart as we are.’
Thus was Perse Pistós born, the lady of loyalty, sworn to her boon companion and made the temptation of men and gods alike. She who sought neither glory nor riches, but the endless bounty of friendship and promise.
Hail, goddess, lady of loyalty and bane of oathbreakers! I began my tale with you, now I sing another hymn.
XXXV. To Perse and Athena
O Muse, sing to me of the trials for the hand of loyal Perse, of Pallas Athena’s trickery and skill, that she and her daughter would share in the ranks of hearts never bent by golden Aphrodite.
When first Perse came to Olympus, an oath of great importance was sworn, that she and Athenide might never be separated. As the Lady of Loyalty swore no oath to remain a maiden, temptation befell the gods, for each sought her hand in equal measure.
Thus Warlike Athena brought Perse Athenide deep within the walls of her great temple, where she might sleep, and stood before the door, the sentinel for her daughters’ virtue. Nike stood by her side, winged Victory the herald of her efforts.
First came the cardinal winds, seeking to bind a sea-bride. The Wise Warrior struck each down with her mighty spear and bade them swear upon Styx never to pursue Perse, nor bind her to their will.
Next came the Messenger, swift-footed Hermes, the mischievous one, who thought to find Perse that he might know her face, and so the world. Athena Apatouria held him to a game of riddles, for trickery was shared among them, but victory was hers alone. As Hermes wailed, she bade him swear as did the winds.
Next came the Blacksmith, the Lord of Fire, who shared in invention with bright Athena. To Athena he spoke: ‘Your vows I know tantamount, Athena Parthenos. For Perse, I would offer any gift of my hands for her smile that shines like daylight.’
To him Athena said: ‘If your words be true, then show for me your skill and bend a crown of a single piece of silver with only your hands, enough that it may bear her pearls and coral with pride. I too shall make of this, and the crown deemed most beautiful shall henceforth be worn upon her brow. For my victory, you shall swear as the Messenger and Winds have, never to capture nor bind Perse.’
Alas! For all his boundless skill, Hephaestus shattered many ores as Athena wove a crown of a single silver thread. Thus he swore never to bind Perse in marriage, and returned to his works upon Lemnos.
After the Blacksmith came the Warrior of Men, courageous Ares, who sought Perse’s hand as the spoil of combat. With his spear he struck at warlike Athena, causing a thunderous shaking to be heard. From this shaking awoke Perse herself, who walked forth in sleeping garb. She beheld this grand battle before the temple of Athena, and stepped between the clashing spears, holding them aloft with her own blade, drawn from aether.
So said Perse: ‘Peace, great Athena. I shall face these challenges in turn, as you have defended me, so shall I defend your honor and my virtue.’ She struck at Ares, quick and deft. She leapt into the air as he swung his mastered spear, and struck in his daze at seeing her bronzed thigh as she wore no armor.
As she held him to the ground, strong Ares laughed, for in War, Loyalty brings courage to the hearts of cowards, purpose to the indolent, and strength to the weak. To warlike Perse he said: ‘This I swear; I hold no designs upon your virtue nor your hand in marriage. All I ask is that my daughters, Amazons all, learn by your blade, that they will know true strength and loyalty.’ The goddess, surprised by his mirth, leapt up and bade him walk free, and watched as he took the reins of his chariot in hand, driving away and scattering the many gathered admirers.
Right then, the sun rose in glory, Phoebus Apollon presenting himself before Perse, the first to tell of her face and the next to try for her hand. He sang of her beauty in loud and trumpeting tone, waking the sleeping Athenide. For this, fair Athena sought to strike him with her spear, yet Perse quietened her hand.
To all she said: ‘I tire of battle and bloodshed. I would fall before Apollon’s great bow, just as he would before my blade. Let us measure as equals, in a race of our sacred birds across the great Aegean.’ For this Apollon rejoiced, as his sacred crow flew swift and true. His moon-pale sister, Artemis yet followed him to the shores where Athenide stood with Corvus in equal measure.
Alas! For every beat of swift Corvus’ wings, Athenide was swifter, and wiser yet, for she sailed among the winds and returned before the sun achieved its peak. As Corvus returned, weary and sun-darkened, Apollon wept. Benevolent Perse knelt before him, wiping his tears.
To Apollon she said: I shall never offer you my hand in marriage, but I would hold you as a dear friend, you and Artemis both. When the days grow long, shall I share in your hunts when I walk the earth, for those that call for my protection are shared by you both.
Chastened, glorious Apollon took the sun to its peak. Artemis, free of her silvered chariot, frolicked with Perse in maiden’s form, chasing the swift Athenide as she flew.
When shadows fell in bountiful number and The Huntress at once returned to her silvered chariot, then came fair Persephone and dark Hades, for Perse walked their realm as psychopomp. Sea-eyed Perse came forth and embraced Persephone, for their shared travels and burdens. Hades swore his solemn oath, with eyes for none save his lady wife.
Golden Aphrodite came next to the temple of warlike Athena, waiting for dark-haired Perse to retire. To Wise Athena’s clear-eyes, the lady of Passion took upon herself the beauty of the seas. To her Athena said: ‘I challenge you, Aphrodite of Beauty and Love, to show to me my most beautiful creation, and I yours. Whomsoever can declare their discovered creation most beautiful shall be the victor.’
In vain, Cypriot Aphrodite searched, for beautiful Perse lay resting within the temple, accompanied by her aunts Demeter and Hestia. At last her eyes fell upon the crown which Athena had woven for Perse’s brow, the shining silver clear enough to see her own visage within it. Transfixed, she stared upon her reflection in the woven silver for many hours before she brought the crown before Wisdom.
Alas! Shrewd Athena had merely snatched winged Eros from her side, and laughed at fair Aphrodite. To her she said: ‘You know nothing of my greatest creation. Golden Aphrodite, tell me in truth, are there any more beautiful to you than your beloved son, who inflames passions at your will and suffers no binds for it? Perhaps he should be made to walk at my side, taming passion for reason’s sake. Swear, Aphrodite, lest I do so.’
In her surprise, the lady of Love could only call the contest lost and swear away her pursuit, in order to have Eros returned to her side. To Zeus fair Aphrodite ran, as the many gods of Olympus wept to lose the hand of Perse. The thunderous king emerged from his great halls with glorious Hera at his side, venturing to the abode of his clever daughter.
In his path lay not his wise and warlike Athena, but dark and vengeful Poseidon. To the King and Queen he said: ‘My daughter of the riptides shall never fall to your hand, O King, nor face the wrath of glorious Hera. For I have held my vows to the Titan Okeanos and kept my lady wife Amphitrite, where Leuke faded and Metis resides within you. You had darest not seek her harm, and swear as all gods have done, never to seek her capture and rape. No child of hers shall be born to you, for her respect for marriage lies deep and true, and hers will not be forced, neither by person nor by circumstance.’
Thunderous Zeus brought storm and wind to his will. To Poseidon he said: ‘What threat is this, to my kingdom and realm? Were it not for prophetic will I would strike you down where you stand.’
Yet, Poseidon, the Trident-Wielder stood firm: ‘The heart of Loyalty walks between every realm, Sky-King Zeus. Swear in truth, you and my glorious sister both, that it shall not be bent to serve your whim in capture, lest my rage be unleashed upon the earth and all its denizens.’
And so the King and Queen of the Heavens swore upon Styx and her champion, that Perse would never fall in their capture, nor be pressed to marriage by their efforts.
To all beautiful Perse said: ‘Lo! All who have tried have failed to win my heart, for I hold her close by oath and more. Neither Golden Aphrodite nor her many bountiful children shall sway me, nor any who seek my capture. I take no oath of maidenhood, for my heart may yet still be won, my hand given to care. One cannot capture fleeting Loyalty, but earn her, strong and true. Any who violate this shall face my own rage and that of those who hold true loyalty.’ And so it was, that Perse could never be taken but only earned, as her priestesses too lay under her aegis. The mother of demigods took no hand besides that of her loving Athenide, and danced upon the seas, carrying her silvered net.
Hail, goddesses! Inevitable as the tides, the loyal maidens of the household, to whom all maidens pray for loyalty in marriage, whose delicate hands cannot be captured by any. I sing to remember you, and another song also.
XXXVI. To Perse Kourotrophos
Muse, sing to me of Perse Kourotrophos, the Mother of Demigods, the Patron of Heroes, Guardian of Women and Keeper of Sanctuary, She who raises god-children, who makes her home on Mount Pelion, where great centaur Chiron trains heroes of myth, who honor her name above all.
Of two children do the myths speak: Dionysos the Insewn, bringer of madness and maker of wine, Asklepios the Healer, physician of the gods, father of the Asklepiades and patron of the healing arts.
Upon the birth of her first child, did God-King Zeus alight upon the lands of Nysa, the high mountain of clambering vine, which lay beyond the sight of Glorious Hera. From his mighty thigh he cut the dark-haired child of Semele, immortal in thought yet mortal in essence.
The rains of the Hyades fell to silence the cries of the newborn, given unto them with the protection of the Thunderer.
Alas! The caves of Nysa could not hide the Thunderous King from the sight of Athenide the Observer, sharp in her sight and shrewd in her judgement. When winged Athenide flew past, so too came loyal Perse. For indeed, God-King Zeus had broken his vows to his lady wife but kept them to Semele and in this became her undoing.
Loyal Perse entered the cave where the child whined, where wise Zeus lay bleeding, where the nymphs of rain soothed the child’s cries. Lo! Fair witness she bore to the birth of this child of Zeus. From the nymphs she took him, holding him to her breast. Thus the child quieted, his powerful lungs put to rest.
To Zeus she said: ‘Great King, whose child is this that weeps as though newly born, whose cries pricked the ear of my Athenide, who bleeds red as mortals do?’
To Perse he said: ‘Tis the child of fair Semele, daughter of Cadmus and Harmonia, who looked upon me at Hera’s command and perished in my glory. This, her child, I have sewn to my thigh that he might grow strong.’
Loyal Perse sang to the child of Semele who fed at her breast. To wise Zeus she said: ‘Wrathful Hera, who reigns as queen at your side, will not be bent from the destruction of this child. Once more have your sacred vows been proven false, Great King. At her command I must affirm the truth of this matter.’
Shrewd Zeus said to Loyal Perse: ‘If indeed Wrathful Hera demands the truth of you, speak only that Athenide witnessed me here, that Zeus has been found in Nysa. Thus shall the child be Dionysus, and kept by the aegis of his father.’
Perse held the loud child in sword-calloused hands, Athenide perching upon her shoulder to peer upon the child’s face. Thus said she to Zeus: ‘And shall Dionysus know neither father nor mother for fear of Wrathful Hera? Give him unto me, Great King, and I shall raise him at my knee, where he shall know your name as his father. Leave him not with the Hyades—they may follow to my house where nymphs dance in plenty. In far Nysa shall he be raised, and return to Olympus as a man. This I ask of you, King of the Skies, for the silence you beg of me.’
To this Wise Zeus could only assent, for fear of the sacred oaths of Perse, for the river across which she carried souls, for the vengeance of her riptides bent to oathbreakers.
For many years did Loyal Perse carry Dionysus upon her hip, across many lands and peoples, from the high mountains to the shores of the sea. To hide from the watchful eyes of the Queen of the Heavens, she clothed Dionysus in the garb of a girl-child, and that of a boy-child when in play.
Thus grew the son of Zeus in faraway lands, from boy to man. He sought the blessing of Loyal Perse to travel, bearing his sacred vines weaved into dark curls and robes of purple hue.
To him she said: ‘My child. You have grown enough at my hand; go forth and find that which shall define you.’
And so Dionysus merrily crossed the River of Indos, trailing his bacchanal and sharing in wine and ecstasy, a wreath of grapevines in his dark hair. He brought with him his Maenads, and found every place of revelry, of theater, of madness.
When at last he graced the shores of Loyal Perse, she bid him travel to Naxos to seek forsaken Ariadne, who would walk at his side as his lady wife, as he ascended to the heights of Olympus..
As the first child of Perse Kourotrophos married and established his household, soon came the next. The second of the children of Perse grew first beneath the heart of Coronis of Thessaly, daughter of Phlegyas, sired by Phoebus Apollon. Alas! Coronis lay bereft of Apollon, for he languished, building temples as a mortal in the court of King Laomedon. She lay with her lover Ischys as Apollon’s get quickened in her womb. Loyal Perse bore witness to this act as she rode upon the chariot of the Moon beside Youthful Artemis.
The Huntress Artemis, angered for the pride of her brother, took up her silver bow and struck Coronis and Ischys through the throat with arrows of moonlight. Perse, knowing Coronis as an oathbreaker, leapt from the chariot that she might carry her down to Hades herself.
Lo! Beneath the heaving chest of Coronis, the child of Apollo yet lived, not yet grown enough to survive. Loyal Perse, in her compassion, carved into the stomach of Coronis and bade the child grow in her own womb as Zeus had sewn Dionysus to his thigh, wishing to spare his innocent life as she spared the life of Dionysus.
For months the child thus grew beneath the heart of Merciful Perse. When her belly swelled, the goddess swam beneath the treacherous waves to her father’s home, where the growth of the child might be hidden from the world above.
When her labors began, Loyal Perse alighted upon the island of Delos, with Artemis and Amphitrite at her side. Watchful Athenide stood at her shoulder, ever vigilant. Alas! The child faced the heart of Perse and would not turn to greet the world. At the word of Athenide Sofía, did Artemis cut into the godly flesh of Perse and open her womb. The golden-haired child cried out, safely born by new means.
So cried Perse: ‘I hold in my arms Asklepios, named for the method by which he was cut from Coronis and myself. He shall be a great healer, to ease the suffering of mortal lives.’
Thus Perse, mother by body yet not blood, bore Asklepios, mortal son of Apollo. She took the child and herself to heal upon Mount Pelion, where her blessed heroes called home. Upon this mountain did Asklepios learn the healing arts from the great centaur Khiron, with the blessings of his godly father, Apollon. It is said that many traveled near and far to be healed by his hands, that even those fated for death would find respite and renewal.
Upon the desperate word of his aunt, the Huntress Artemis, who cut him from his mother’s belly, did Asklepios reach beyond the veil of death and renew Hippolytus, her hunter cursed by Aphrodite. Alas! Mighty Zeus struck him with wrathful lightning, for too many mortals lived again at his hand. For this Phoebus Apollon slew the Elder Kyklopes, who forged the weapon that struck down his son. Once more was the Sun banished to mortaldom, as Loyal Perse mourned her child. For a year and a day did Asklepios remain in the realm of Hades, only returning as an ascended god at the conclusion of his father’s penance.
Thus go the births of the children of Perse; for this the goddess is known as Mother of Demigods, who raises the god-children as her own, who grants fertility and family to those who have earned her blessing in truth, who keeps her home with compassion and loyalty. The works of her children spread far and wide. Dionysus of Wine and Madness and Asklepios the Healer honor her above all else, for she as their mother fed them from her breast and carried them upon her hip, teaching them the ways of life and living.
It is for this that many covet the hand of Loyal Perse; among this number is Heracles, the Son of Mighty Zeus, who sought to steal the goddess and faced her wrath.
So it came to be that Heracles ascended to the heavens after his death. A grand feast of all the gods took place upon great Mount Olympus. There did Heracles boast of his many labors as many gods cowered, for his innumerable strength to not be bent upon them. Glorious Hera, for whom he was named, saw the madness in his eyes and raucous laughter.
A grand hero though he was, his first slight against Loyal Perse came against her beloved son Asklepios, who himself ascended before Heracles. Fair Zeus admonished his son and granted Asklepios audience, wherein he became Healer of the Gods and retained his household.
Then, God-King Zeus turned to his heroic son, and said: ‘For your great deeds, I would offer you a great boon. Come forth and ask, my son, and your desire shall be granted.’
Lo! He wished for the hand of Loyal Perse, whom all gods were sworn never to pursue, for he called himself the greatest of godlings and heroes, only fit for the loyal Mother of Demigods.
So said Warlike Athena: ‘None can pursue Loyalty and take her to wife when she has sworn herself to Athenide.’ She brandished her spear in defense of Loyal Perse.
So said Vengeful Poseidon: ‘Swear never to seek the hand of my daughter, Heracles, lest I shatter you upon the rocks that fill the sea.’
Thus did Wise Zeus offer the hand of Youthful Hebe, for the many gods of Olympus would go to war for the hand of Loyal Perse.
Heracles swore his wedding vows in little faith, leaving Hebe bereft after consummating. To the sound of the wistful flute he wandered, to the abode of Athena where Loyal Perse lay sleeping. In her bedchambers did he bring down his mighty club upon Watchful Athenide, the object of Loyal Perse’s sacred oath.
Lo! Warlike Perse held the blow with her keen blade, knowing his oaths in vain. To the very edge of Olympus did they duel with a mighty shaking of the earth. Many gods gathered to see Loyal Perse about in her sleeping garb, as she once fought Ares upon the threshold of Athena’s abode.
Righteous Perse, whose strength was bolstered by the prayers of her children and students, struck Heracles with Anaklusmos, the Bane of Oathbreakers, for his many broken vows, and the deaths of her students beneath his hand, for the theft of glory and valor that followed in his wake.
Alas! Heracles fell from the heavens for dishonoring Loyalty in her home. Perse went then to Hebe, consoling her for his broken vows. Thus she tore away the chains which bound Hebe, and bid her rest within Perse’s home, where she might be protected.
For her deeds Perse could not be cast away, for Lawful Zeus heard of the dishonor of Hebe and all others beneath the hand of Heracles. So stood Loyal Perse before Olympus, true in her word. By her side was Knowing Athenide, whose wise counsel bent even the ear of Warlike Athena.
I sing of Perse Kourotrophos, the Mother of Godlings, Protector of Divine Youth and Righteous Defender, who raised her sons never born of her blood, whose sword strikes at evil with uncountable strength, who takes her due of oaths in kind, who makes her home by the hearth and beneath the seas. Goddess, I sing to remember your holy name.
XXXVII. To Perse Kidemónas
I begin to sing of Perse the guardian,
fountain-born daughter of vengeful Poseidon
The bane of oathbreakers,
the guard of the homeland,
the mother of godlings.
In her name I swear my loyalty to my home
for it is she who guards the people during war.
She walks with sword and shield
as Pallas Athena wields her spear to glory.
Hail, goddess!
Bless us with good fortune that we may fight bravely,
honor your protection, and in time, return home.