Thump. Thump. Thump. Darkness. There was so much darkness. A flash of angry cerulean eyes. A piercing scream. The beat of my heart thrumming in my ears. What have I done? I'm getting way ahead of myself. Let me take you back. It wasn't supposed to happen this way. It just did. "Knowledge is power Hestia. But power doesn't mean knowledge." That's what my mother had said to me after Zeus had defeated Kronos. 

Her words went in one ear and out the other. I didn't understand. Now I do. At first everything was fine. Then the problems started. Hera would storm in almost every day. Screaming. Crying. About Zeus. And the more it happened, the more I listened, the more I realized that maybe my mother wasn't just talking about Kronos. 

 

It was a generational thing, gilded kings that were petrified of being overthrown. Uranus, Kronos, and now Zeus. I wondered if it would ever end. The bigotry that your own family was competition. Then again, it was my job to make sure that didn't happen. I think I'm somewhat of an Olympus joke. To them I wasn't Hestia, goddess of the sacred fire and hearth. I was Hestia, goddess of the home, who couldn't even keep her own family together. That's part of the reason I gave up my spot as an Olympian to Dionysus.

 

If I couldn't keep my own family at peace, what right did I have to be goddess of the home? Dionysus was young, accomplished and deserved a chance. Zeus treated him like a servant, making him do all his bidding. He would see soon enough that maybe the great gods of Olympus weren't so great. 

If you ever had a chance to look into the walls of Olympus, you'd be surprised at the way everyone treats each other. Cold. Distant. Like we're not all family. Like we're all competition. That's what my job is. Patching up the holes in our family. And somehow, every time I fix a problem, another one pops up. Maybe that's with all families. I really should know these things. I shouldn't have been an outcast. I was just like them, without all the glitz and glamor.

It's no secret that we Olympians enjoy our riches. But when does it become too excessive?

 

I prefer being humble with my clothing over dressing myself with gold jewelry and heavy clothing. Most of my family found this ridiculous. "We earned our right to be worshiped," said Ares when I asked him about it. I'm not sure why I asked him. That was a bad idea in general. But unlike Ares, some other gods had better advice for me.

 

Such as Nyx, who said to me, "Hestia darling, you underestimate yourself. You may not rule over the sky or seas, but you have a gift unlike any others." She paused for dramatic effect. "You Listen. You Learn. You know things no one else does. About all of them! Use it. Don't hold back." I mulled over her words for ages. I understood what she meant, but I didn't know how to use my power for my benefit.

 

Then came the dreams. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw hands reaching out into the darkness. My hands. Covered in golden liquid. Ichor. Blood of the immortals. I don't know exactly what these dreams meant, but I could feel it. I could feel the power coursing through my veins. I could feel a low grumble shaking the heavens. I could feel a satisfied smile set on my face. I knew it was a sign. A sign that things were about to change on Mount Olympus. I found myself plotting at all times. It was getting obsessive.

 

During chaotic family dinners, tense therapy sessions, Saturday night bonfires and right before bed. I have helped countless gods and goddesses out of this headspace but now that it's happening to me, I'm lost. I'm stuck in my own head, drowning in my thoughts. It's horrible! But after months of careful thought, I realized. If I wanted things to change, I'd have to do them myself. That's when I realized that fresh leadership would do wonders for Olympus. 

So, on a dark night, I wrote a letter to Zeus. A letter from a made-up woman named Thea, the most "beautiful woman in the world," saying she wanted to meet him in the Underworld, near Tartarus. I knew Zeus would fall for it. So that dark night, I crept out of the bed and went to the Underworld, going down, down, down. That's when it hit me. Tartarus. Zeus was going to Tartarus. A knot formed in my chest. What was I doing? But I kept on going down until I heard a bellowing voice. "Thea?" I stopped in my tracks. Zeus. "Thea? Where are you, Thea?" He called and called out until I heard a bellowing sigh. "Women," He crowed. "So disappointing." 

 

That's when I felt it again. That burn. That anger. So I crept up behind him, my hands shaking, and I opened my mouth and said, "I'll show you what women can do." And I pressed my hands against his back and shoved my confused brother into Tartarus. He screamed. I screamed. And he faded into darkness, forgotten. Gone. I knew he would come when he got the letter because I knew he didn't love Hera. I knew he would turn his back and not suspect anything. I knew that in the morning, I would be sent away. And I knew that after some time, Hera and the other women of Olympus would realize that I was right. That there was only one way to fix our problems. I now understand what my mother meant all those years ago. Knowledge truly is power.