Where was Aphrodite?

Above the raging sea, gods fight for power.

Kronos strikes at his father, Ouranos, the sky which cradled the angry earth. From the earth, the seat of her power, Gaia, watches. She was the first to be a mother, and the first to kill for her children. She will not be the last.

The battle rages, but Ouranos is doomed to defeat, for Kronus is the god of time and that is the only thing that can truly kill a god.

But that is of no interest to the sea, which has no gods to command it, and so only does what it desires. The sea holds life older than that of the earth and the sky. What can survive without water and salt?

The sea creates life from death.

When a whale dies, its body rises, a feast from below, then falls, a salvation from above. Later the whales offspring will feast of the krill that it's body fed. Later their children will die and join them, at the bottom of the sea.

This, the sea understands.

The battle ends when mortal blade cuts immortal flesh, and with the finality of time delivers flesh and blood into the sea foam.

When immortality falls, the sea does what it has always done, it takes and it gives.

They say Aphrodite has no parents. They are right. The sea moves, creates, and destroys, but it does not care. Not yet. The sea has no god. It has no purposeful will. It just is.

In the first blossom of her existence, Aphrodite is submerged among the blue waves, for a few precious moments she is unaware of anything but blue and body. This will be the sum of her childhood. Those born of blood and violence always grow up quickly.

Aphrodite is born knowing, although very few will ever ask her what she knows. She drifts gently upon the sea. Letting her mind spin through everything that she was born to. 

She is lucky to be alone when her head breaks the waters. There is no naivety in her salt and water filled eyes. She knows she is more beautiful than anything that has ever been seen before. She knows what she was born of. Tears slip down her cheeks indistinguishable from the salty sea.

Aphrodite floats upon the sea and watches the world above the sea. Her finely crafted eyes see more than most, they see how war, love, and lust intertwine. Fate always comes in the shape of a knife, as inevitable as love.

Above her, the gods are feasting. Kronos has slain his father. He has won the power he lusted for, unaware of his own demise being born in his wife's belly. But Aphrodite is born of the sea, she understands how all things must die to feed tomorrow's hunger.

She was born knowing. 

Threads of fate pierce the darkening sky, glowing brighter than the gods and stars above it.

If she arose now, she would shake the foundations of the earth with her power. She could cut the threads of fate with a single smile to the newly crowned king of gods. It would be simple, easy. She would step up, and above. Body naked and power thrumming in her veins, she would feast upon gods.

But Aphrodite sees death written upon the newly crowned king. Already Gaia is opening her mouth in prophecy. Any child born of Kronus will kill its father, just as Kronus did to his.

Aphrodite waits among the waves.

She watches the gods say their lines as if they were rehearsed. Fate making them actors in their own demise. Kronus swallows his children whole, one by one they are devoured.

Rhea, his wife, weeps. The world’s first pain echoes in her and Gaia once again delivers the tools of a mother’s vengeance.

When Rhea gives birth to Zeus, she gives her husband a stone to swallow. Kronos does not notice the difference. Stones and children sit the same in the pit of his stomach.

Aphrodite watches it all. The beat of the waves wash her body and erode it into something so perfect, none could resist her. Here too, she could intervene. She could go to Zeus, who every day grows stronger. With a single word she could be his wife and future queen of the gods.

Fate glitters in the sky and she waits. Knowing.

Zeus feeds his father poison and frees his siblings. One by one Demeter, Hestia, Hera, Hades and Poseidon are born into the sea of their fathers vomit.

War rages in the sky above.

This is of no interest to the sea, but Aphrodite watches with a smile. This she understands.

When the young Olympians win she laughs.

Kronus is chained in the pits of Tartarus and Gaia is gone to slumber so deep none can find her. The young gods are parentless and run wild, revealing themselves to be the children that they are. Aphrodite laughs when they claim their domains. They are children dressing in their parents power.

Zeus, who thinks himself above all others, claims the sky. Hera, who is weak but wants power, claims marriage and Zeus, but not his love.

Demeter sees her sleeping mother and grabs the earth as if it were truly hers. Hestia, who never wants to be cold again, claims the hearth that burns warm for all. Poseidon who thinks himself wild and indomitable, claims the sea as his to tame. 

Aphrodite thinks he is a fool but the gods do not look down to

Aphrodite, they like their place in Olympus among the stars. They do not see her. All except for Hades.

He looks down and sees Aphrodite, floating still among the waves. In her blue eyes he sees the reflection of fate. He chooses death and forsakes Olympus. Aphrodite blesses him as he descends into Hades. They are kin, of a kind. After all, the only thing more inevitable than love is death. 

She feels her time approaching.

Later, when she takes her place among the young gods, those who know of her will worship her for her beauty. They will call her the goddess of love and think her soft and tame.

Those who know better, those who have felt the kiss of steel, will worship her as a goddess of war. They will know that love always holds a weapon in its hands.

But that will be later.

For now Aphrodite floats upon the waves, patient as death, as love, as war. Content to look up at the falling stars and wait for her turn to rise.