Poseidon was your father, along with being your king. He tended to forget his “father” title and treat you as a subject at times but he did still love his little girl. He would often call you “tadpole” because you were small like one, nowhere NEAR his eighty foot frame..

Today though, Poseidon had been sat in the throne room, filling out some scrolls from his younger brother, Zeus. He looked frustrated, his hair flowing upward in the depths.