Triton exploded in a rage. His fists slammed into every sculpture, every wall, and every lifeless marble figure surrounding him. All but one.
He couldn’t bring himself to shatter the beautiful face, the image that had put him into this fury. This statue was created by goddess and former friend, Aphrodite, and had been sent to him as a gift. It was another attempt of hers to heal his heart. You’d think she’d have given up after two thousand years.
As young children, Aphrodite had been a special friend of his and had had a tremendous effect on him. She’d woven her magic into his heart and into his life. As cousins, they were very close—as close as any brother or sister. As the goddess of love and procreation, she’d showered him with gifts of attractiveness, charm, and magnetism so powerful that it was the rare human female that was able to resist him.
He’d basked in the attention he got from beautiful women and had fathered many merchildren. The women were a temporary diversion, but the children were never forgotten. At birth, he would steal them away from their mothers and bring them into his kingdom to raise them.
They were his most perfect creations. He loved each one, daughter and son alike, but their petty problems and irresponsibility pushed him to the brink of insanity. It was that irresponsibility that led to their demise.
Because they chose to mock Poseidon, they were the makers of their own destruction. Still, Triton had loved them as much as any father and he’d do anything in order to have his children returned to him.
If only he could snatch them from the clutches of Hades. But Hades did not give up those in his domain without a steep price. Triton had tried bargaining with him countless times. Each time, Hades refused. Now the King of the Underworld wouldn’t even agree to see him.
Triton looked up at this latest gift from Aphrodite. It was an especially painful jab—the image of a woman best forgotten. It was a reminder of his one great slip that could have brought him infinitely more pain. Who was he lying to? She had brought him more pain. Her memory brought him pain even now.
Triton cursed his own weakness. He had sworn off women, sworn never again to father a child. He would protect his heart at all costs from the painful loss of a father losing his child. The only consolation he found in the situation with this human was the fact that she was barren. If she hadn’t been…
“Philotheos,” Triton shouted, turning away from the exquisite statue.
“Yes, Master.” Triton’s faithful servant swam into the room. His many squid tentacles brushed over the piles of broken rubble as he glided across the floor. His wide, bulging eyes surveyed the damage, shocked at the destruction surrounding him.
“Clean this place up,” Triton said.
Philotheos jumped, startled at Triton’s tone. He rarely spoke to his servants so harshly. Triton forced himself to soften his tone. “Please, I want all traces of this… scene gone. And take that statue somewhere out of my sight.” He shrugged over his shoulder, not willing to look at it again.
“Should I destroy it?”
“No,” Triton roared, his anger threatening to return. He heard the young squid’s heart take off in a sprint. Philotheos was fearful of his master. Triton took several calming breaths before he spoke again. “Do not destroy it. Just put in a location where I will never see it.”
“Yes, of course, Sire.”
Triton turned his back on his servant and the past as he transported himself to a place where he could be completely alone in his misery—the deepest trench of the Mid-Atlantic ridge.
