Eos, Titan of the Dawn

“Now!” shouted Selene, and Helios popped out of his chair at the breakfast table as Selene dropped like a stone into her chair, knocking some plates of ambrosia around, just as the bright, brilliant light of Apollo snapped into the kitchen window. 

“Well, that was fun,” sighed Helios and sat down, turning back to his half-eaten breakfast. “Until tomorrow!” he added cheerily, and Selene got up to bring her plate to the sink. 

Eos stood in the doorway, having watched this same set of events happen every day for centuries. Today, for some reason, she felt irritated and resentful. “Don’t you get bored of this?” she asked her siblings as she poured herself a glass of nectar.

“What do you mean?” Selene asked dreamily. 

“This,” Eos replied. “Sitting around with no purpose, watching the gods do our work.” She spat out the word “gods” as though it caused a bad taste in her mouth.

Helios laughed. “No way! It was pretty fun driving the sun through the sky, but if Apollo wants to take over and give me a break, who am I to complain?”

Eos rolled her eyes. “You’re a Titan! You were here first. Just because those upstart gods show up, it doesn’t mean they should take over everything.”

Selene walked over to her sister and put her hands on Eos’s shoulders. “Eos, we are fine with the gods taking over for the sun and the moon. You’re the only one who is bothered by it. We are still Titans, we just have more free time now.” She smiled sweetly and collected the rest of the dishes. “Come to think of it, only Helios and my jobs are taken over. There’s no god that heralds the dawn. Maybe you could ask to help.”

“Apollo is pretty aggressive with his sun chariot,” Helios remarked. The way it goes from the dark of night to the bright light of day in an instant? I’m surprised the humans tolerate it.”

Eos thought for a moment. “I think you two are right. Tonight when Apollo finishes his ride, I will go to his temple and ask… no, tell him that I want my job back.”

“Good!” Selene yawned. “Let us know how it goes tomorrow,” and she headed off to bed for the day. 

Logically, Eos knew this was a day like any other, but it seemed to her that the new Sun God took a few detours through the sky that day. After what felt like a whole week had gone by, the sun finally set and Eos raced to Apollo’s palace and, swallowing her Titan pride, walked in.

“Oh, lordly Phoebus Apollo, God,” she coughed, “of the Sun, it is I, Eos, Titan of the Dawn.”

Apollo looked up wearily from his throne. “Oh, hi, Eos. Listen, do you mind giving me, like, a minute? I just got off work and I’m pretty tired. It’s not easy being the sun!”

Eos took a deep, calming breath before speaking again. “Surely it is a privilege, to bring light to all of existence.”

“Yup, sure is. So, see you in the morning,” Apollo waved.

“Apollo, I am the Titan of the Dawn. I would like my job back.”

Apollo straightened. “Hmm. Well, Eos, we, ah, don’t really need your kind of work. See, the sun rises, all without needing your help, and everything works out great.”

“Great?!” Eos exclaimed. She steadied herself; losing her patience with this arrogant god would not help her. “Phoebus Apollo, you certainly do spread brilliant light throughout the world, but it is rather abrupt. The world goes from total dark to full light in an instant.”

“I know!” Apollo shouted, pleased with himself. “Isn’t it amazing?”

“Well,” Eos tried, “wouldn’t you rather make more of an entrance? It might add a little drama if you were, say, introduced as your ride began. That way the humans could wake up slowly and see the full glory of your journey across the sky instead of catching it mid-flight.”

Apollo considered Eos’s proposal. “What do you have in mind?”

She had his attention, but not yet his agreement. “I was thinking that you could get settled in your chariot, and I could go ahead and open the gates of Dawn, and sort of set the scene. I would warm the skies with soft colors and you could rise through the rosy dawn and change the sky more gradually.”

Apollo looked skeptical and opened his mouth to speak, but Eos continued. “It could be seen as an invitation to watch your glorious ascent, instead of causing humans to shield their eyes at your sudden brilliance.” She finished with a smile.

“Okay,” Apollo agreed after a moment. “Can you start tomorrow?”

“Yes!” Eos nearly squealed with delight.

“Calm down. We’ll just try it out tomorrow to see how things go.”

“Of course, Apollo. I’ll be there!” Eos ran from the palace in case Apollo was about to change his mind. 

Eos arrived before daybreak and waited excitedly by the gates of Dawn as Apollo’s chariot was prepped and his horses groomed. 

Apollo situated himself in his chariot, took up the yokes, and, Eos thought, posed before he said, “Okay Eos, let’s see what you’ve got.”

Eos pushed open the gates and slowly stretched upward, her arms presenting strands and swaths of rosy light through the sky. She pushed higher and higher, creating light purples and pinks, and as she rose and Phoebus Apollo embarked on his journey, she dropped notes of orange below her to herald in the bright yellow of the sun. Apollo drove past her as she sent her last lights through the sky, feeling more alive and useful than she had in centuries.

“Not bad,” Apollo called as he drove upward, and Eos sank back to the earth and headed home. 

Selene and Helios greeted her at the door. “That was incredible!” they both called, and hugged their little sister. “And you should have heard the humans! They were in awe, saying it was the most beautiful thing they’ve ever witnessed.”

“I hope Apollo hears that. You know what, even if he doesn’t hear the humans’ joy, I will just show up and keep presenting the dawn.”

“I’m so happy for you,” Selene said, yawning. “Our little sister who changed her fate and the way humans greet the day. We are proud.”

“It reminds me of old times, when you and I worked together,” Helios said wistfully. “Now you must be tired. Get to sleep. You did good work today, a god’s work.”

“No,” Eos said, feeling exhaustion set in. “A Titan’s Work.”