Cauldron Anthology Issue 8: Untold Fortitude cauldronissue8changes | Page 10

How Monsters Are Made D en ic e Penro se I was beautiful once. My hair was golden, my skin flawless, my figure beautifully rounded. My sisters were gifted immortality, while I, the youngest, I was given beauty. I thought the gods had favoured me. My beauty rivalled my cousin Helen, but no one remembers that now! “Such a pretty child,” my cousin Athena had said, stroking my cheek, her talons trailing soft red lines that she soothed away with her fingers. “You really must send her to serve in my temple. It will be a fitting tribute. I’ll take care of her.” “Such an honour,” my mother had said. She hadn’t seen the envy in Athena’s eyes. What power, when you know your beauty evokes envy in a Goddess! Athena was distant after that, and I assumed she’d forgotten me. How young, how foolish I was. While I didn’t notice Athena watching me, I was very aware of the men who watched me, especially as my slender form filled to voluptuousness, my hair grew to a shimmering golden shower. I learned the flirtatious glide of the one who wants to be caught. After they were enthralled, I became distant, elusive. I had my tunics made in a smaller size, so that every curve was accentuated, my pink nipples strained at the fabric, slender legs silhouetted though the opaque shift. I used the light behind me to display my features to my advantage. My suitors were falling at my feet, bringing gifts, promises. I lounged under the pagoda as they peeled grapes, courted me with gifts. I laughed at their jokes, listened to their stories. I admired toned, bronzed muscles flexed to impress me, and took pleasure in their adulation. They tripped over each other to do my bidding, and I wondered why they called us the weaker sex. My flesh tingled, and I looked up into my Uncle Zeus’ eyes, met his gaze, watched as it caressed my body. I arched and flexed, and answered his gaze with a come-hither look. It was only a matter of time. My triumph was complete. I am woman, hear me roar. But my mother noticed the attention I was attracting, and dragged me home, where she promptly ripped up my tunics, and replaced them with her own demure gowns. “You’re playing with fire. You’re too young to know what you’re doing. Honestly, if you give yourself away, we won’t be able to arrange a good marriage for you. You’re not a child anymore, actions have consequences, and you need to be more responsible. From now on, you stay at home, unless you are accompanied by me or your sisters.” “But mom,” 10 Cauldron Anthology