"It is another beautiful boy," the midwife happily proclaimed, wrapping the newborn infant in a blanket.
"By sweet Apollymi's hand, Aara, you've done me proud!" his father said as a loud jubilant shout echoed through the room. "Twin boys to rule over our twin isles!"
Laughing, his mother watched as the midwife cleaned the firstborn.
It was then Styxx learned the true horror of Acheron's birth, learned the dark secret his father had hidden from him.
Acheron was the firstborn son. Not him.
Styxx, who was now in Acheron's infant body, struggled to breathe through his newborn lungs. He had finally taken a deep, clear breath when he heard a cry of alarm.
"Zeus have mercy, the eldest is malformed, Majesties."
His mother looked up, her brow creased by worry. "How so?"
The midwife carried him over to his mother, who held the second-born babe to her breast.
Scared, the baby wanted only to be comforted. He reached for the brother who had shared the womb with him these past months. If he could just touch his brother, all would be right. He knew it.
Instead, his mother pulled his brother away, out of his sight and reach. "It cannot be," his mother sobbed. "He is blind."
"Not blind, Majesty," the eldest wisewoman said as she stepped forward, through the crowd. Her white robes were heavily embroidered with gold threads, and she wore an ornate gold wreath over her faded gray hair. "He was sent to you by the gods."
The king narrowed his eyes angrily at the queen. "You were unfaithful?" he accused Aara.
"Nay, never."
"Then how is it he came from your loins? All of us here witnessed it."
The room as a whole looked to the wisewoman, who stared blankly at the tiny, helpless baby crying for someone to hold him and offer him solace. Warmth.
"He will be a destroyer, this child," she said, her ancient voice loud and ringing so that all could hear her proclamation. "His touch will bring death to many. Not even the gods themselves will be safe from his wrath."
"Then kill him now." The king ordered his guard to draw his sword and slay the baby.
"Nay!" the wisewoman said, halting the guard before he could carry out the king's will. "Kill this infant and your son dies as well, Majesty. Their life forces are combined. 'Tis the will of the gods that you should raise him to manhood."
The baby sobbed, not understanding the fear he sensed from those around him. All he wanted was to be held as his brother was being held. For someone to cuddle him and tell him that all would be fine.
"I will not raise a monster," the king said.
"You have no choice." The wisewoman took the baby from the midwife and offered it to the queen. "He was born of your body, Majesty. He is your son."
The baby squalled even louder, reaching again for his mother. She cringed away from him, clutching her second-born even tighter than before. "I will not suckle it. I will not touch it. Get it away from my sight."
The wisewoman took the child to his father. "And what of you, Majesty? Will you not acknowledge him?"
"Never. That child is no son of mine."
The wisewoman took a deep breath and presented the infant to the room. Her grip was loose, with no love or compassion evident in her touch.
"Then he will be called Acheron for the river of woe. Like the river of the underworld, his journey shall be dark, long, and enduring. He will be able to give life and to take it. He will walk through his life alone and abandoned-ever seeking kindness and ever finding cruelty."
The wisewoman looked down at the infant in her hands and uttered the simple truth that would haunt the boy for the rest of his existence. "May the gods have mercy on you, little one. No one else ever will."
MOUNT OLYMPUS
As Ash approached Artemis's sacred temple, he opened the oversized double doors with his thoughts.