It seemed forever ago when I first came upon him, his serpent tail tucked between his legs and his three heads drooping in unison. He was a frail thing then, small and sickly, his obsidian fur patchy and squirming with maggots. He lifted one head as I approached, his mind too far gone to register fear. He simply stared ahead with those hollow eyes as I removed the chain his parents had placed around his neck.

Monsters, his parents were, their unholy union calling forth foul nightmares that stalked the Olympians in their high palace. In return, his mother was slain by the coward Hera while she slept, his father pierced by her feckless husband and cast into the void. What pitiful ends they met, slaughtered by even greater monsters than them.

But he was not a monster, just a broken thing, abandoned and starved of love. His world was colorless and bleak, just like mine. Perhaps that was why I took him into my arms that day and carried him down below, where my kingdom stands eternal. I named him Spot, after the uneven patches of his fur, and it stuck long after his fur grew strong and sleek once more. Our world remains colorless, but it is no longer bleak. The love we share is enough.

Spot guards my kingdom now. My brothers and sisters are fascinated when they visit me.

“How did you tame the monster?” Poseidon asks, stroking his beard.

“I didn’t,” I reply, relishing the flash of fear in his eyes. “For he is no monster.”

“But how can you trust him?” He urges, unconvinced.

“Because I _am _him,” I reply. “Favorite color? No idea. But his darkest secrets? Those I know well.”