My true name is Phoibe, taken from many variants. My husband is Koios, the Inquirer. I am the goddess of Intellect. My brood, my daughters, they are of the stars and heavens, as my father Ouranos is. My poorest daughter Asteria bred only Hekate, Hecate, she of witches and the darker arts. My other, the fair Leto, Artemis and Apollo, taking over for the other minor moon and sun deities. My nephews, the rulers of Olympus and Dis, banished my husband and brothers in the Titanomachy. I have watched the world since Gaia and Father birthed me. I have seen rulers come and go, I have watched with hurt as my people fell, and I feel the terrors against my mother deeply. Blessed with foresight, the third holder of the Oracle at Delphi, I gave it to my grandson, Apollo, the greatest gift I held. My sisters have neglects their vows in favour of terrifying gods, or in favour of love and support. The Muses are my nieces, the better-known of Olympus have spoiled my brood. I have watched in silence, I have waited for retribution. Of my family, alone, I have held my temper and stayed my vengeance.
But to think that my grandchildren slew the offspring of Niobe before her at their mother's tears, and to think they learned nothing from their soft-spoken grandmother, that is a common misconception. There is nothing that would stop the planets in their movement, that would fell stars in my father's reign and my daughter's command, there is nothing that would not end the common thoughts of science if my fury were to ever be known to my children. And, in regards, I never have felt fury so great. Only sorrow.