We are three. Deino, Enyo, Pemphredo. Dread, Horror, Alarm.
We are one. We are the Graiai. The Sisters Grey.
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Together we are strong. Never have we been separate. Since born of Ceto's loins we have been bound to one another. Always one entity who share everything. Our sisters have tried to mimic our bond;
--- but Erytheia of the Hesperides forsook the bond of sisterhood for love and bore a child alone.
We will never be alone. We understand the power of being together.
---Medusa of the Gorgons was killed by Perseus's sword; the others are left broken like a crushed tricycle limping along until it is forgotten in the back of the garage. For who remembers Sthenno or Euryale?
We are akin to the great Morai; spinner's of fate and more powerful then Zeus himself.
Aeschylus described as old, hags; but nothing could be farther than the truth.
We have drank from Hebe's cup of Youth and stay forever young and beautiful. Rivaling jealous Aphrodite with you hair features of marble or granite. It is true we are gray, skin the color of the palest granite and hair of gray. Do not mistake us for elderly, for our hair is not the sparse, coarse patch of the ancient. It is a thick and soft mass of gentle curls and waves. Thick eyelashes brush our grey cheeks forever hiding our blind sockets. Instead we pass our greatest beauty between us, our eye.
---The iris shines with the blue green light of the ocean when we are pleased; it generally shines when we are left to discover the knowledge of Gaea.
---It burns a dusky purple when we are angered; it turned this color when that wretched son of Zeus stole our eye and demanded knowledge of where the Gorgons sleep.
---It glows a deep, pure blue when we are saddened; it glowed this cyan color when we heard of our mortal sisters death, the snake-haired Medusa.
We never fight over this shared vessel between us, for all are content in living in our grey world that reflects our outer appearance. When eye sight is limited, it becomes our least useful sense.
Instead, we rely on the cloying smells of the earth,
the whispers of the winds and the nymphs of the land,
the taste of biting cold or moist warmth,
and most important the textures of the world around us.
When your world is grey, emotions tend to be grey. We are not hampered by the distracting delight of the happy, or the hampering pitfalls of depression. Our emotions are as grey as our skin and lets us peacefully learn the knowledge of the earth and those who came before the gods, or the titans. Gossip, intrigue, and passion pass us by and leave us undistracted in our pursuit of knowledge.
We have knowledge that others refuse to see, or believe. We have seen the end of the Pantheon, the end of the Hellenes people, the end of the world. We shall endure beyond their strifes and see the course to the end. Our grey world shall be uninterrupted by the fall of Olympus, Rome, and other civilizations who have yet to be named. We shall last until the very last, watching with our miraculous eye that holds all the color that our world lacks.
Together we were born. Together we live. Together we will fall.
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We are three. Enyo, Pemphredo, Deino. Horror, Alarm, Dread.
We are one. The Graeae. The Sisters Grey.
Our endless pursuit of deep, knowledge has been interrupted only once.
Our beautiful eye saw him long before he arrived. He had Zeus's sky blue eyes and the glow of a god's mortal child. We never thought he would have the audacity to disturb our grey world with his sun bleached hair and white teeth. Too much color for our world.
He came with the rank smell of sweat and iron that burned the nostrils,
with a clatter that drowned out the whisper of the winds through the grass,
the taste of the sea and unwashed mortal replaced the tang of the air,
He abused our grey hands that only looked as hard as stone when we tried to feel his face.
He demanded knowledge. He ordered us, who had forsaken all that the world enjoyed to learn the knowledge of the earth, to tell him. He wanted us to just tell him things in mortal words. What had he done to deserve such knowledge? He didn't whisper to Gaea and listen for her response, or beseeched the deities of an older power than the Titans.
This is when he stole our precious eye as it was being handed from sister to sister. Never in our ageless life had we traded the eye so frequently but all wanted to stare and judge this colorful demigod with no respect for the Graeae.
Never have we cried out so, a scream that erupted from three identical hearts of grey. We begged. We pleaded.
He tossed our eye carelessly from hand to hand and laughed at our tears that fell from sightless eyes.
We told him all he asked for. We told him where our sister's slept, the ones betrayed by the gods. We told him of our other sisters, who held the weapons he would need to hurt the formerly golden Medusa. We told him everything that he asked for.
Our eye, the eye that burned burgundy in his ugly, calloused warriors hand, was our connection between us. It made us the Three. It connected us where other triple goddess had broken. We loved that eye.
When he left us, we praised the grey world we knew. If excitement came in the form of irreverent blue eyed boys then we would remain silently learning the secrets of the earth, forgetting what color was.
When the winds whispered about the death of our sister, our eye turned the purest blue and grey tears fell from sightless eyes once more.
But still we remain…
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We are three. Pamphedro, Deino, Enyo. Alarm, Dread, Horror.
We are one. The Graeai. The Sisters Grey.