was a man with a long dark beard
and wild eyes the colour of the night.
He was on his knees, painting,
wild slashes of his brush
and hands that were old,
yet still strong.
But there was something
about his presence,
a pride mixed with a strange fury.
I hesitated for the briefest of seconds
but it was too late to run.
He had already seen me.
‘Who goes there?!’
His deep voice rumbled across the cave,
disturbing the stalactites that hung
from the ceiling. Far behind me,
I heard one fall to the ground.
I was many things, but I was not
a coward of any kind.
So I stepped further into the light,
and said, as strong-voiced as I could,
‘My name is Hekate,
Daughter of Asteria and Perses.
And I am trying to pass
through to the Halls of Night.’
His wild eyes took me in,
and I saw that his face,
much like his hands, was withered,
old and weary of something.
‘Perses.’ He stood up
