Despite the years of non-practice my talons didn’t grow dull. In fact, all the emotion I held seemed to make my sorcery stronger. And so I laid a fatal curse onto the wedding gown of Princess Creusa. The dress would burn all those who touched it to cinders. Any fool who would dare save the vixen would feel the wrath my betrayal.
The day of the wedding soon approached and I journeyed back to Corinth to save my children from their doom. While I did not drop in on the marriage myself, the results of my curse rang throughout the streets of Corinth. Cruesa had burned, and together with her, the foolish King Creon who dared try to save his deceitful daughter. “Let those who dare stand between me and my justice face my judgement”, I though to myself.
As I made my way up to the room of my children, I heard screams. Screams of Tisander and Alcimines! I hasted to their room only to find their lifeless, bloody bodies on the floor. Standing next to them was a guardsman, grasping young Thessalus in one hand, a a bloodied dagger on the other. In a fit of rage, I wrestled the dagger out of the guardsman and slit his throat with it.
I crumbled to the floor. There were no smiles on their faces, no joy in this reunion and no cries of children looking for their mother. Tisander and Alcimines were dead. Thessalus laid unconscious on the floor not breathing. I broke down in tears and embraced their lifeless bodies. “Was this all for naught!? Why have the Gods of Olympus forsaken me?!” I screamed out in anguish.