Earthwoman, Percy Jackson

1. All Roads Lead To (New) Rome

A PYRRHIC VICTORY is one that inflicts such a devastating wound on the victor that it is equivalent to defeat. A victory that is so bittersweet that the only taste left behind is the salt of blood. A victor left so broken they may as well be dead. A victory that seeps into your soul and denies you entrance to Elysium, for no hero should ever suffer such a victory. To do so would deny the very nature of heroism. 

Pyrrha, the daughter-in-law of Prometheus, had nothing to do with such a victory. Indeed, the term is derived from Pyrrhus of Epicurus, a Greek king of no relation to her. Yet, somehow, all three are intrinsically connected, not by their name, but through the nature of Lila Bellerose's birth. 

The myth of Pyrrha and Deucalion is this: one day, Zeus became disillusioned with the human race. He planned a flood to decimate them all — and only two mortals were permitted to survive. Pyrrha and Deucalion. The story of their survival is one echoed in other stories and religions too — Noah's Arc, to name one. Yet, it's not their survival that was remarkable. It's how the human race became repopulated, once Pyrrha and Deucalion were the only survivors of a once great populace. 

A great god — and no one knows exactly which — told them that to repopulate the human race, all they had to do was "throw the bones of their mother over their shoulders, without looking back."

Pyrrha and Deucalion puzzled over this instruction for a long while. It seemed vague, ridiculous, confusing. 

However, they soon came to understand. All mortals are children of the Earth Mother, Gaia. The primordial who first birthed life. Mother Nature, Giver of Gifts — she had one more yet to grant. And her bones; stones. 

As Pyrrha and Deucalion threw Gaia's stones over their shoulder, the Earth Mother granted the treasured human population yet another gift: life. And then she fell back into her eternal, dreamless sleep, at peace once more. 

   Two millennia later, Gaia cannot rest. The world is dying. The earth crumbling, poisoned. She can't feel the ocean anymore, only black sludge and oil. Her trees are weakening, falling quicker every day. And yet she cannot wake either, stuck in a paralytic state between life and death where all she can do is watch. 

And watch she does, as Persephone, Bringer of Destruction, Lady of the Underworld, prays to Gaia once more. 

It's been a long time since Gaia was honoured at all. A long time since anyone has even thought about her. To see her lovely granddaughter, at one with nature, suffering just as Gaia does, tugs at the primordial's heartstrings just a little — even if she detests the gods with her entire being, she understands Persephone. She understands her desire for a child — after all, isn't it Gaia's own love of family that bred the Titans and then the gods? What's a little more charity? She's always been kind. 

She grants Persephone her wish. As the goddess throws the stones behind her, each one infused with a little of Persephone's power, Gaia grants one life. She can keep Persephone's godliness. She can have some of Gaia's power. She can even have the elusive gift of mortality. Gaia's a charitable mother. 

As Persephone coos over her child, her beautiful baby girl, Gaia laughs. And so became Lila Bellerose, Daughter of Persephone.

Her power springs back to life as the girl takes her first breath. Yes, this will work. One day, that power in the child will call to its rightful owner, and the call may be strong enough to drag her out of this pitiful slumber.  

Gaia's always been charitable, but what's charity without a price?

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