The gods sat on their thrones, looking down on the world. They watched from afar as the little girl grew. They all knew the darkness that she would go through. The hardships and heartbreak. Despite the gods' feelings toward her, they understood that this was essential to all humankind.
They all remembered the day they had the east winds carry her to a hospital in Michigan, their hearts heavy. When Hecate made the 'Mother' of the child believe that the baby was hers. They watched the happy bundle float high above the clouds and gently set in a bed.
Zeus sat on his throne, trying to resist taking the baby up in his arms again, to save her from the Fates. But, alas, it wouldn't be possible. Her fate, her destiny, would catch up to her sooner or later.
Before she let his life, not to return for long years to come, he blessed her. Blessed her with the gift of the winds.
Hera, despite her rough exterior, felt a sadness that she shouldn't have been able to feel. She loved the child with everything in her godly being, something that should not have been humanly possible.
So, she blessed her. Hera held her in her arms and gave her the blessing of a happy marriage. It wasn't much, but it would do. It would have to do.
Ares, the god of war, felt on the brink of tears as he watched the winds carry her away. He cursed himself for becoming too close to the child. The very powerful child. Before she went out of his sight, he gave her the blessing of war and battle. A blessing that would mark her fearless and strong, something she would need further on.
Aphrodite knew that she wouldn't be able to not watch over the child or interfere with her life, just a tad. She knew that if this child was hurt, everyone throughout the world would feel her anger, her sadness.
Just before the child was due to leave, she brushed her fingers over the child, blessing her with beauty. Blessing her with something that none of her daughters or sons had. A gift that would make her beautiful without her trying. Nothing extreme, but people would be drawn to her in a way that made them want to know her. Want to protect her.
Demeter knew that the child would affect the world greatly. More so than the great Percy Jackson. She knew she could never give the child much, but she gave what she could.
Power over plants. Plants would answer to her words, her voice. Obey her command.
Hephaestus. A god that didn't get mentioned as very handsome. He worked on devices for the immortals, a simple job. but a powerful one too. He felt the power radiating off the child. A weak baby was given the power of a god.
He gave the child the gift of machines. To build them, understand them, talk to them. He knew that the child would face dilemmas that most would not be able to comprehend. Things that even the most scared and battled wounded human would never be able to understand. He could only hope that this blessing would help her in many ways.
Hades, god of the Underworld. A god quite underestimated and deemed as terrifying, had a soft spot of the child. He could see pieces of him in the child. A child already destined to a fate far more deadly than anyone. She was already burdened with a heavyweight.
He gave her a simple gift. A gift that people would overlook as nothing, but it would astound them in the end. The blessing of being underestimated, a gift of looking weak but all in all, could defeat the strongest man. He smiled at the child, already feeling attached more then he should.
Artemis felt a hollow feeling in her as the child was leaving. She felt as if some part of her was going with the young girl.
She gave the child the blessing of the hunt. The child, even on her own all alone, would be resourceful. She would be able to feel the beat of the forest and speak with the animals. She would be an expert at hunting, her senses enhanced when called upon.
Hermes had tried to steal the child to keep her safe. To keep her as his own. It didn't work, but he tried. The child having to be torn from his arms, real tears dotting his face.
He kneeled before the child and blessed her with swiftness. A gift allowing her to run at an astounding speed. Not unnatural speed, but pretty fast
Apollo held back his own tears and sad songs and he held the baby in his arms for the last time. he sang a soft lullaby to lull her into a deep sleep.
He laid a hand over her heart, brushing her lips with his fingers. He sang a different song, an ancient Greek song. He felt the warmth spread into his hand and go into the baby. His hand glowed and so did the baby. He gave her the gift of song and healing. When the song ended, he went back to a lullaby, a few tears dripping down his face.
Dionysus kept his distance from the child, a smile playing on his lips whenever the child cooed in her sleep. He loved the girl just as much as anyone else.
He knew that his power would do nothing for the young girl, but he gave her a blessing anyway. The blessing of wine. Being able to make wine to it's finest. Probably a gift that was useless, but he felt complied to give the child something to remember him by. Something that attached him to the child.
Hestia gave her last goodbyes cradling the child in her arms at her hearth. She pressed a kiss to the child's' forehead and laid her in the fire.
Humming an old song she gave the child the power of the Hearth. Over warm fire and comforting homes. A blessing that would make any man, woman, child, or animal feel at home around her.
Tyche even gave her a gift. She gave her the gift of success in life. Success in battles, no matter how hard they are. No matter how worn out the child became. She then left, back to her own domain, so there she could cry freely.
Hecate ran her fingers over the ground, creating a makeshift path toward the baby. She walked over and held a torch over her head, casting a green glow over the child. She closed her eyes and swayed from side to side, humming a sad tune.
The glow of the torch burned brighter and brighter until all the gods and goddesses had to look away. The torches' light sparked and blew up showering sparks onto the young girl. Hecate gave the child power of spells. The power to cast spells.
The last two came forward, holding hands. Despite their hate and resent toward each other, there lay the child. Tears freely flowed down there cheeks as Athena picked her child up and looked up and Poseidon, smiling.
Their child. A child that was destined for a life full of pain and hurt. And reward. The reward of life. Something many are denied. Many more rewards layered this one. Many.
The proud parents released their child, letting the east winds carrying her away. Tears went around everywhere. Clouds poured rain down below.
A sadness that should have been impossible for gods and goddesses to feel, affected them deeply.
The baby was gently laid in a hospital bed and it continued to rain. All the gods and goddesses cried softly, all feeling the pain of losing a child. Athena and Poseidon held each other tightly, comforting one another.
Alexandra Rose Black would have a life. A life full of trouble and hurt. She would live in the end, hopefully, and return home. But for now, sadness would hang over the world.