The Memory and the Wait
On stormy nights, when the sky of Atlantis becomes a maze of whirlpools and the roar of the waves rumbles deafeningly, Thetis remembers.
She remembers a time when she had a son, whom the Fates had foretold greater than the father, whose battlecry could terrify more than the worst thunderstorm. She remembers the war under Ilium's walls, a shield forged by divine hands, inconsolable tears and a savage revenge. She remembers hugging Zeus' knees, she alone desired but never possessed.
Those are memories that make her shiver, vivid and terrible in the darkness of the abyss, before they retreat in the recesses of her mind, granting her rest.
When Sorrento plays his melodies down the far South Atlantic, enchanting all sea creatures and cheering their hearts, even then Thetis remembers.
She remembers fifty sisters with light feet, laughing eyes and sublime voices, who spent their days braiding each other's hair, weaving and dancing among seaweeds and corals. Playing with the hearts of mortals by escaping their hands, changing into water, fire or shiny-scaled fish at the last moment. Dolphins were their playmates, the Tritons were their orchestra.
She remembers a sunny day when the Lord of the Seas crowned one of them Queen, after having chased and courted her for a long time, clumsy like a boy at his first crush.
The music of the past blends with the one of the present and her feet start moving without her noticing, hair floating in the blue like golden strands, fingers drawing bubble spirals over her head.
Those times were gone a long, long time ago. Her carefree life had ended the day the Glaukopis had won the domain on the Attica region. The Ennosigaios had sought revenge and was defeated, losing his godly body and getting imprisoned under a seal. The capital of his submarine kingdom slowly went to ruin, leaving just columns encrusted with sponges and low relieves covered with seaweed. Their ancient bodies dissolved, mixing with the waves, their voices and their music lost forever in the undertow.
The souls of Nereus' daughters kept living, in form of animals or people, still playing with the hearts of sailors but forever parted, most not even remembering their pasts, their memories sealed away with Poseidon's soul.
Thetis, however, brought her memories with her in every life. The Kronides had granted her to keep her self-conscience, a gift that felt like a slur when the melancholy became unbearable.
She waited for long, the wife of Pelaeus. Life after life, body after body, she walked on beaches all over the world, followed the turning of the tides, danced at the rhythm of the waves, waiting for the voices of her sisters to reach her ears again, waiting for the Cosmos of the Blue Haired One to reawaken.
And then, something shook her heart. The voice of the sea changed, calling her back to it, from that city in the North she'd been reborn in. The coral-coloured Armour the Klytotekhnes had forged for her millennia before shone underwater, its form so similar to that of the sculpture that brought so many tourists at the harbour. And in her childish blue eyes danced her ancient divine will.
She was Christine no more, but Thetis again.
Her heart jumped in her chest when her gaze fell on a rebuilt Atlantis, its marbles shining again and life buzzing once more inside its walls of basalt and mother-of-pearl. Finally, after long centuries, she recognized in the current caressing her arms and hair the voices of her aunts and companions, the light-footed Oceanids. Her joyful laughter hypnotized the fish, that crowded around her in a welcome back parade.
Now Thetis strolls across the ocean floor, fast and light in her girl's body that's becoming a woman's. She wakes up corals with her Cosmos, trains on fighting as if learning the steps of a new dance, accompanies the Siren's flute with her voice. Every day, for a few hours, she covers herself in fins and scarlet scales and peeks up from the foam's curls on the Aegean, to check over a boy with expensive clothes and light hair running on the beach. She knows his name is Julian and that in a few years she won't just observe him chasing a ball on the foreshore.
She watches him growing up and eagerly waits for the moment when she'll hand him the Trident over and will recognize in his azure eyes the spirit of her King.
"Soon, my Lord" she thinks, taking her leave with a jerk of her translucid tail.
When she dives and goes back to Atlantis' roads, where Sea Dragon's booming voice echoes powerfully, intent in his training of the soldiers and the younger Generals, a smile appears on her full lips. She'd never thought she'd like fighting that much, even for fun; but maybe Achilles hadn't just taken after his father at the time, after all.
She always observes Poseidon's warriors training in their sunset coloured orichalcum Scales. Kraken and Scylla are the only ones missing at the moment, but the only one in which she recognizes a leader warrior, not just for his age but also for his posture, is Kanon. When she'd seen him the first time she'd wondered whether he was the Ennosigaios' chosen simulacrum, with those stormy eyes and powerful muscles; the only mortal she'd seen grasping the Trident without being electrocuted by it immediately.
She admires the refracted rays creating a game of lights on his manly face, while thanks to his teachings the youthful traits of his colleagues become each day more adult, their arms stronger, their legs more agile, their shoulders wider. She feels that the trust of the Blue-Haired One resides in him and a mischievous smile graces her lips, giving back to her doll-like face the naughty expression of the woman she'd been, of the goddess she'd never stopped being.
"I wouldn't mind having him in the family, after all!" She whispers to the fish swimming around her, enumerating the names and personalities of the other Nereids on her fingers, wondering to which of them she should introduce him.
She counts the passing days, the golden haired Thetis. She keeps waiting, but there is no melancholy in her heart anymore; the pain has lessened, because she's at home now. Everything is ready for Poseidon's return and with the King, his court will come back.
And so will her sisters.
The time of dances, music and laughter will return in Atlantis.
At last, hers won't be just memories anymore.
A/N: I have many headcanons about the world of Poseidon in Saint Seiya - I've always thought that arc had tons of potential that wasn't completely exploited. One of them is that Thetis is the incarnation of the mythical nymph by the same name, the mother of Achilles. Also, the Mermaids of Poseidon's army are actually the fifty Nereids - sea nymphs daughters to Nereus and Doris, and one of them was Amphitrite, the wife of Poseidon himself.
Since in myth Thetis was the only woman wanted by Zeus that didn't end up in his bed due to a prophecy that said she'd give birth to a son that would be greater than his father, I thought that Zeus would let her keep her memories even though she had to change body at every incarnation.
Some notes about epithets:
Glaukopis: meaning 'bright-eyed', other times translated as 'blue-eyed', is an epithet of Athena.
Kronides: typical epithet of Zeus, meaning 'son of Kronos'.
Ennosigaios: epithet of Poseidon, meaning 'shaker of the Earth', referring to his power of causing earthquakes. 'Blue-Haired One' is another epithet for him.
I hope you liked it; reviews are welcome!
Hyacinth Judy