Hekate is a Goddess with many aspects and roles in mythology and some of these are so overpowering that others can get lost in the glare of belief that ancient culture was an homogenous whole. One example of this is her role as a Goddess alone, virgin and (by extension) unwed and unfettered by attachment to any male be they God or Mortal but on closer inspection this is not actually the case.…
Iphigenia. Detail. Third style. 1st century BCE — 1st century CE.
[image description: a photo of a roman fresco painting that shows a pale woman with long auburn hair and garlands. she looks off into the distance with a settled but intense gaze. the surface of the fresco is cracked across her face.]
Hey folks!!! We only have a few of these left in our shop at the moment. Once they sell out entirely we will not be reprinting them illustrated like this so you should definitely check them out!
Hey folks!!! We only have a few of these left in our shop at the moment. Once they sell out entirely we will not be reprinting them illustrated like this so you should definitely check them out!
Hey folks!!! We only have a few of these left in our shop at the moment. Once they sell out entirely we will not be reprinting them illustrated like this so you should definitely check them out!
Hey folks!!! We only have a few of these left in our shop at the moment. Once they sell out entirely we will not be reprinting them illustrated like this so you should definitely check them out!
Hey folks!!! We only have a few of these left in our shop at the moment. Once they sell out entirely we will not be reprinting them illustrated like this so you should definitely check them out!
Hey folks! Just a quick reminder that these two are on the shop right now, we’re whittling down to only 11 copies of MEDUSA left of the illustrated risograph print. This is a limited edition run, the book will be re-printed but the quality will be different & the book will not be illustrated!
If you wanted to get yourself a copy now’s your chance!!!
When you learned of the god of war, you thought he’d be tall and muscular and angry. When you were about to meet him, you braced yourself for the worst.
You weren’t quite expecting the short, scrawny, shy kid you ended up getting instead.
Olive skin, black hair, skinny, dirty face with pale lines where tears had sliced through the ash and dust. A white chiton dress and a threadbare shawl draped over her shoulders.
A pair of wings - huge, black vulture wings, far too large on her tiny body - were the only things that suggested she was divine.
The general shifted his weight from foot to foot. Obviously respect had to be given to gods, but… “Er - I’m sorry, I was invoking Ares? The god of war?”
The child god shrunk in on herself, and pulled the shawl over her shoulders. She muttered something. “Sorry?” the general asked.
“Ares is the god of slaughter,” the child god said in a slightly louder voice. “Not war.”
The general looked at the priest. The priest shrugged, clearly lost at sea. “Well,” the general said, “then maybe Athena? Goddess of tactics in war?”
“Tactics,” the child god repeated. “Not war.”
There was a long, ugly silence, as the huge vulture wings shifted with the whisper of brushing feathers. “My name is - was - Iphigenia. Daughter of Agamemnon, king of Mycenae, commander of the Greeks who stormed the walls of Troy. When my father disgraced Artemis, and the winds of Greece would not blow her battleships to Troy, I was brought to Aulis. For my wedding, I was told. I was-”
She sobbed. Teardrops dribbled off her chin and fell to the temple floor. “I was fourteen. And then I was brought to the highest altar in Aulis, and - and then - and-”
Another sob. “I was fourteen,” she said.
The vulture wings draped over her, and she disappeared under the cloak of black feathers. When they parted, and when the child god looked up at the general, he fell backwards. Those eyes. Eyes he’d seen a thousand times in battle -
“I am the true spirit of war, general,” the child god said. “I am the goddess of bloodshed, of sacrifice, of the slaughter of innocents. I am invoked when men ravage, burn and pillage. I am invoked when mothers cry out, when sons die, when daughters are stolen. I hear it all, general. I have heard it all since the fall of Troy.”
The terrible wings opened up. The child god loomed over the fallen man, twenty, thirty feet tall. Somewhere, the priest was screaming. “How dare you call upon my name.”
Iphigenia
Inktober 11
I didn’t know if I should post this by itself but this is fan art of that super dope story and also of that super dope art. So I figured this’d be the easiest way to credit them.
When the army of the Akhaians was held up at Aulis for lack of winds, the seers foretold that it would be possible to sail only if they sacrificed Iphigeneia to Artemis. At the insistence of the Akhaians, Agamemnon handed her over to be put to the knife and she was dragged to the altar. But the leaders could not bear to look on and, to a man, they turned their eyes elsewhere.
“He insulted me, Iphigenia. You know that much. Thoughtlessly thought to claim what wasn’t his to claim, and I should let such an injury go?”
“But why— why me! I thought I..!”
“Of course you are. Why else are you here? But while Troy isn’t my city like it’s— like it was my brother’s, its people was dear to me, and the land gave me much. I had been insulted, and I also hoped to put a price too steep for leaving. He’d pay with not going to Troy at all, or he’d pay with something he loved. I suppose I don’t quite understand the intricacies of war - or didn’t, back then.”
“Youleveraged me against my father?! And he… he didn’t—”
“No, Iphigenia. Like I said, I didn’t understand all the pressures and parts… I suppose Ares could have told me, or Athena.” [A scoff.] “I wasn’t interested in talking to Athena at the time, and not Ares either. If it was only your father and your uncle, you would have lived. They’d started something far larger than them, though. Or would you have wanted me to choose another little girl? Is that it?”
“No!”
[A beat. Unintelligible.]
“Oh, but one of them were, among all the rest who are dead. Troy paid, even after there was nothing else to pay. Achilles wanted a bride in death, and he chose a young princess. Does that make you happy? Another girl dead, for the pride of men.”
“I— no… My lady, Artemis, please…”
“Come here, then. I think it’s time we leave. It’ll be easier, up on Olympos.”
ALT
![[ eyes open | walk with the shadows ]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/avatar_0cdfd5f17181_30.png){kind=avatar}
