Chapter Text
"Daughter, are you looking down at Earth again?" Helios often asked Circe this question. "Why, my child?" Why do you bow your head? Keep your forehead held high." The sun titan cried out in a solemn tone, unable to comprehend why one of his daughters would lower her gaze instead of holding it high. Those beautiful golden eyes should remain raised.
Circe was always different from her siblings, and from many other gods. She enjoyed gardening and sewing, and wasn't interested in divine matters. Reading was her favourite pastime. She loved reading about space, the stars and the planets. She was fascinated by it all — it was so interesting! Her golden eyes sparkled with excitement at every new piece of information.
"Daddy, this book says some very interesting things," said the little girl once she was sitting on Helios's lap. "It says that Zeus represents the largest planet, Jupiter."
"That's because he's the king of the gods, little one, but that doesn't make him the most powerful."
"He isn't?"
"I'm going to tell you a secret, Circe." She knelt on her father's thigh so that he could whisper in her ear. "If the sun wanted to, it could destroy all the planets."
"Really?" asks the smallest goddess, looking pale with fear at the idea.
"Even those farthest away would be affected by a sudden explosion of the great star. One day, the sun will explode and take a couple of planets with him"
Circe's big eyes turn back to the book. The page contains images of various planets and the gods associated with them, but there is something her young mind does not understand.
"Why is Apollo the god of the sun? I thought you were the sun, Dad."
"Apollo is merely a personification of it. Daughter, don't mind him," he says, showing more disdain than necessary. He has noticed how the son of Zeus looks at his little girl. "I am the embodiment of the sun, and so are you. Remember your tattoos?" She nods. It's true; from the moment she was born, those beautiful golden designs have been etched onto her skin. "And so are all your brothers and sisters, Circe. We are all the true embodiment of the sun around which the other planets orbit."
"But the other day, I heard a mortal say that the Earth was the centre of the universe and that everything revolved around it."
Helios lets out a loud laugh.
"Yes, mortals tend to believe they are the centre of everything, and they are not the only ones." He casts a discreet glance at the god king and the other Olympians present. "Little Circe, pay no attention to such nonsense. Neither the Olympians nor mortals are at the centre of anything. The honour of being at the centre of this system belongs to the Sun. That is why you must hold your head high and bear that title with pride."
Growing up hearing things like that, how could she not have become the strong, confident, cunning goddess who dared to talk back to Zeus and drive him crazy? The other gods looked at her as if she were a black sheep, but she was too busy to notice. As the other gods said, the daughter of the Sun spent her time on the Moon — she was the cosmic sheep of that flock.
"Helios, you have to do something about your daughter." "Circe is out of control." These were phrases often heard in the Olympian pantheon, but Helios always managed to calm the situation. However, the Scylla incident provided the perfect excuse to brand her an imminent threat — a hugely hypocritical move, given that the mythical heavenly palace had been built on curses and envy among the gods. Nevertheless, everything had already been said. Helios could no longer protect her.
He told the gods that his daughter would be placed under house arrest, but he secretly hoped that her time on the island he had prepared for her would bring her peace. He had noticed that she was not happy with him or the gods. She always looked towards the Earth. Would being there make her feel fulfilled?
On that day, before the sun set on the horizon, he took her himself in his horse-drawn carriage.
"I hope you like it, daughter," he said as soon as she set foot in her new home. Her gaze wandered over every plant in the garden. "I made sure the soil was fertile. I told a couple of nymphs about this place and asked them to bring their friends, so you won't be alone for long.' There is a palace in the centre that will be yours..."
"Dad," she interrupted, looking at him with a smile. "It's perfect."
"You've barely seen it from above."
"But it's mine, and that makes it perfect." Circe looks calm, peaceful and happy. "I hope you'll come and see me from time to time."
"Of course I will." His face saddened at her next sentence. "I'm sorry it didn't work out for you on Olympus."
"I'm not," she replied simply, picking up the only bag she had brought with her.
"Come on, you could at least pretend to be sad, couldn't you?"
"Why should I? I think it'll be best for everyone."
Helios shook his head to himself. Circe had always been a little strange. She doesn't seem bothered by this situation at all. In fact, she looks happy. How crazy is that? Who would be happy about being banished from Olympus?
"I brought you something. Consider it a housewarming gift. I thought it might cheer you up, although I don't think it's really necessary." The Titan hands his daughter a tube made of strips of wood joined together, with separate compartments at each end. It is covered in red leather with gold detailing. It also has a three-legged stand. At each end there is a pair of lenses inviting you to place your eye there. Circe looks on curiously. "This is something that mortals will take centuries to invent, but you will have the luxury of enjoying it now. All I ask in return is one thing."
"What is it?"
"Never look down again, daughter," he orders solemnly. "This land is now yours. You are its ruler. Always hold your head high. Defend it and care for it with all your being.'
"I will, Father." She curtsies slightly. "Thank you for such a wonderful gift."
"And there is one more. Look up at the sky when I leave, and you will see your final gift." He takes the reins of his carriage. "Don't forget, Circe: we are stardust. Prove it by shining brightly." He orders the horses to depart, pulling the sun with him and bringing night. The light blue sky turns dark, but the real spectacle is provided by the bright white stars, filling the sky and the field of vision of anyone who looks up.
That was the first time Circe had seen the stars. On Olympus, they cannot be properly appreciated, but here on Earth, they can be admired every night. Her island's location gives her the perfect vantage point: the skies are clear, and it is far from any mortal village. So, when they dare to pollute the skies with their artificial lights, Eea remains indifferent, and the stars can still be seen. Circe's expression was indescribable; her cheeks hurt from smiling so much. She had never felt so close to her stellar ancestry. Never had her eyes or the tattoos on her body shone like that. She had never looked up for so long. She thought Glaucus was her first love, but now she knows she was wrong. That night, Circe fell in love with the night sky.
Circe never looked down again.