Prologue
It was misdirectional information that told the mortals she worked for Hades or Persephone. Some even believed that she worked for Nemesis, divine retribution. In the very least, they thought she worked with the woman. None of it was the truth. But much like any game of telephone, down the lines and the generations, the truth was lost in the midst of lies and misunderstandings.
Not to say the mortals were too far off, however. On good terms with Nemesis, they worked on different standards. The woman was far more powerful than the primordial goddess could ever dream to be. She was polite, even respectful of Persephone upon paths passing. Even pleasant in demeanor, showing none of her infernal turmoil that was always coiling in her belly.
Hers and her two sister's existence came into play through a grotesque act of malice. When a god's son castrated his father, the Furies were born from the blood of the spurned.
The furies belonged to Styx, an underrated goddess and something else all together than what the Greek mortals could ever imagine. Their mundane minds couldn't fathom something else being higher than the gods, yet those they deemed as 'gods' or 'goddesses'....some held an even higher power than some could even fathom. Styx, she was one of them. A woman of Oaths, a being above the gods, she was someone the Furies could respect.
However, the Greek gods and goddesses dwindled in their power. Hardly anyone believed the myths, only believing them to be fabled stories fabricated by the mortal minds that were appealing to read about but never to believe. Styx and those like her didn't have that problem, being worshipped in another realm that kept her strong. Powerful. Something to be feared far more than any ferryman or Keeper of the Dead. To break an Oath pledged to Styx was a death sentence.
The being detested Oath Breakers just as much as those sending souls to the Underworld or leaving them on the various planes of existence, seeking revenge and closure with no ear to listen to their quarries.
The Erinyes had particular jobs. Separated by domains that pertained to each Fury. Apart from her two sisters, stories to be told by another, the focus of this story belongs to Tisiphone.
The avenger of the damned. The Voice of Revenge. A listener, a hand of death and punishment to those seeking vengeance on the ones who wronged them through homicide of any kind. Preferring to handle the treacherous turmoils of the mortals over dealing with the Gods, she had a role she held immendous pride in.
And that is where this primordial Goddess' story begins.
It was misdirectional information that told the mortals she worked for Hades or Persephone. Some even believed that she worked for Nemesis, divine retribution. In the very least, they thought she worked with the woman. None of it was the truth. But much like any game of telephone, down the lines and the generations, the truth was lost in the midst of lies and misunderstandings.
Not to say the mortals were too far off, however. On good terms with Nemesis, they worked on different standards. The woman was far more powerful than the primordial goddess could ever dream to be. She was polite, even respectful of Persephone upon paths passing. Even pleasant in demeanor, showing none of her infernal turmoil that was always coiling in her belly.
Hers and her two sister's existence came into play through a grotesque act of malice. When a god's son castrated his father, the Furies were born from the blood of the spurned.
The furies belonged to Styx, an underrated goddess and something else all together than what the Greek mortals could ever imagine. Their mundane minds couldn't fathom something else being higher than the gods, yet those they deemed as 'gods' or 'goddesses'....some held an even higher power than some could even fathom. Styx, she was one of them. A woman of Oaths, a being above the gods, she was someone the Furies could respect.
However, the Greek gods and goddesses dwindled in their power. Hardly anyone believed the myths, only believing them to be fabled stories fabricated by the mortal minds that were appealing to read about but never to believe. Styx and those like her didn't have that problem, being worshipped in another realm that kept her strong. Powerful. Something to be feared far more than any ferryman or Keeper of the Dead. To break an Oath pledged to Styx was a death sentence.
The being detested Oath Breakers just as much as those sending souls to the Underworld or leaving them on the various planes of existence, seeking revenge and closure with no ear to listen to their quarries.
The Erinyes had particular jobs. Separated by domains that pertained to each Fury. Apart from her two sisters, stories to be told by another, the focus of this story belongs to Tisiphone.
The avenger of the damned. The Voice of Revenge. A listener, a hand of death and punishment to those seeking vengeance on the ones who wronged them through homicide of any kind. Preferring to handle the treacherous turmoils of the mortals over dealing with the Gods, she had a role she held immendous pride in.
And that is where this primordial Goddess' story begins.