When my alarm rang I was already wide awake, staring into nothingness. Even though it was just 5.30, I had been up for almost an hour. Yesterday had been… interesting? Devastating? Confusing? Probably all of the above and more. My stomach still felt like a box of squirming insects, every time I recalled the heart to heart I had had with Katie. Jesus Christ, what had I done? I hadn’t lied, for starters, and that might have been a huge mistake.
Groaning, I finally scrambled out of bed and waddled into the shower. Scorching hot water had always calmed me down and today was no different. Once the small space was filled with steam, I pressed my forehead against the wall and allowed the warm flood to cascade down my back, the memories of last night swirling through my mind.
Our little game of truth or truth had gone on for longer than I had imagined, our families merrily chatting away downstairs, and not a single question had been out of bounds. She had even asked me, if I had already imagined kissing her. Idiot that I was, I had confessed. Of course I had and it hadn’t stopped at kissing, either. It’s not that easy to think about someone you like and stick with proper debutante etiquette. At least she hadn’t pressed me for any details. On the plus side, I wasn’t the only one whose fantasy had run wild, but in contrast to my shy mumblings, Katie hadn’t had the slightest problem describing her desires. Holy shit, even thinking about her straightforward replies made me blush.
Anyways, in the end, there had been no way around a simple truth: trying to pretend like nothing had happened was impossible. If we were going to spend much time together, we’d most likely end up in a very strange place. Which in turn meant she had to make a decision. If she was going to call, we’d see where we might eventually end up. I had asked, or rather demanded, that she’d tell her boyfriend, beforehand. If she called, she would have, if she didn’t… oh well, nothing I could do, either way. Unfortunately, that particular line of reasoning did nothing to stop my thoughts form spinning round and round.
With a sigh, I turned off the shower, wrapped a towel around my waist and headed towards the mirror. A small smile tugged on the corners of my mouth, when I realised I could actually see the soft, amethyst glow from my eyes, despite the misted glass. Abruptly I brushed over the cold, hard surface and scrutinised my reflection. Yep, I had lost weight again, despite my gluttonous efforts the night before. At this rate, I’d either start eating properly three times a day or I’d soon be nothing more than skin and bones. I had never been voluptuous, but this… I mean, I wasn’t going to complain about the budding abs, but at this rate, I would soon be able to do my shopping in the men’s section. I really needed some chocolate, or rather a ton of it.
When I had put on a comfy sweater and corresponding pants, I quietly made my way downstairs, briefly listening at Vick’s door. Judging from her deep, heavy breathing, she was still out cold. No wonder, the five of them had drunk their way through 8 bottles and knowing my sister, she hadn’t been the one to drink the least. I was, most likely, going to have the flat to myself for at least two more hours. Mom and dad weren’t early birds, either. They often had to stay in the office until well past midnight and consequentially didn’t come in before 9, unless they absolutely had to. Which meant I had all the time in the world to walk down the stairs and deal with whatever craziness I might spot through the windows. Mine I had closed again, the very moment Katie had left.
Steeling myself I headed downstairs, eyes closed. Stupid, for sure, but I couldn’t help myself. When I had counted 7 steps, I held my breath, faced the glass front and hesitantly opened my eyes. I could barely stifle a yelp when an otherworldly, terrifying scene rose from the blurry swaths of a morning mist, the fleeing shadows illuminated by the soft, golden light of the rising sun.
Between the roots of the gargantuan tree, a ritual of some sort was taking place. I couldn’t be sure, but it looked like all of the winged creatures, I had seen the night before, were praying and singing together, facing the rising sun. They were much too far away to hear them, but I could see them just as clearly as if I had been using binoculars. Their arrangement formed an intricate pattern, reminiscent of a triskelion. Seven of them, clad in elaborate, white robes, the hems embroidered with gold, stood at the very centre, a glowing altar, made from what appeared to be crystallised light, between them. Upon the altar, a young man laid in trance, smiling serenely.
I say in trance, because otherwise, he wouldn’t have grinned like an idiot, considering the tallest of the seven was slowly raising a pitch black dagger, ready to plunge the heinous instrument into his chest. The blood froze in my veins and I thought my heart skipped a beat, my mind reeling. I wasn’t stupid, this wasn’t some kind of show. Within seconds, the boy would die, stabbed by… whatever those things actually were.
I bit my tongue to suppress a scream. The taste of copper filled my mouth and I felt warmth between my fingers, where my nails had dug deep enough into my skin to draw blood. What was I supposed to do? I wasn’t even strong enough to watch, never mind help.
When the rays of dawn turned the descending dagger into a flash of darkness, I closed my eyes, unable to witness murder. Tears streamed down my cheeks and a dry sob reverberated in my throat, but I didn’t move. As if under a spell myself, I remained rooted to the spot, shivering, crying. What the actual fuck?
I took a deep breath, forcefully relaxing my muscles. Get a grip, Evee. Open your eyes. Watch, learn, or it might be you or someone you care for, next time. Bile rose in my throat, but I still managed to open my eyes again, even though my vision was blurry. When I had blinked away the tears, I inadvertently took a step back and wrapped my arms around my middle.
They were bleeding him dry, like a goddamn pig! Frothing bubbles of blood foamed around his mouth while he gasped for air, only to drown in the crimson tide, welling from his throat. The charm broke and his stupefied smile vanished, pain and fear distorting his features. As far away as I was, it was simply impossible for me to hear him, but when his mouth opened in a desperate scream, I imagined a youthful voice, hurling the pain of a whole world at the uncaring heavens. And a moment later, I even felt it.
I crumbled, a white hot line of fire blazing on my throat while my feverish mind conjured up images I had never seen before, even though I knew the person they depicted all too well. Katie was leaning over me, a caring smile on her face, the setting sun behind her. But while she gradually came closer, her eyes closed, the light behind her became ever brighter until it swallowed me whole, an all encompassing whiteness without shadows, without darkness. The pain moved farther and farther away, like a bad dream under the morning sun, and then, there was nothing left. Nothing to fear, nothing to care about, nothing to mourn. All there was was peace and the last, fleeting memories of myself as they quickly fled, making room for something… new.
I opened my streaming eyes again, curled up into a ball on the cold, hard steps. I was shivering uncontrollably, a cold sweat covered my body and I could almost taste the coppery blood in my mouth, even though I hadn’t been hurt. No… it hadn’t been me, but… all hells, what was I supposed to do?
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“Get used to it, I’d suggest,” a quiet, velvety voice whispered in my ear and I froze up completely, even my churning mind stuttered to a hold. It hadn’t been the words, though, that had taken me completely off guard. It had been the very cadence resonating through me. It was my voice, a bit older and much more sensual, but still… “great,” she, I… it, continued, “a primordial goddess afraid of blood. That surely bodes well for the future. Never mind, we still have some time but you’re right. You should watch, you should learn, otherwise you’re going to drown and that… well, trust me, if your husband gets his hands on you you’ll wish for an easy way out. Hephaistos has never been known for his gentle touch.” I’d like you to take a second to truly imagine what was happening to me. I was still watching a boy my age, presumably Katie’s boyfriend, if I hadn’t entirely gone off the rocker and misinterpreted the vision, being sacrificed by a bunch of blood crazed fairies while a incorporeal voice, very similar to how I might sound once I was going to grow up, told me that a, I was a primordial goddess, whatever that meant, and b, that I was already married at not even sixteen to someone named Hephaistos, who apparently was a brute.
I’m not sure how well versed in ancient lore you might be, so allow me to add a little context for you. Hephaistos is a Greek name, the god of fire and craftsmanship, the unwanted, deformed son of Zeus and Hera, the king and queen of the gods, thrown off Olympus after his birth. According to legend he was indeed married. To Aphrodite… I guess she doesn’t need much of an introduction. Modern literature is filled with references and if you’re still unsure, google her. Anyways, retrospectively it isn’t that hard to connect the dots but for me it was just a tad too much to take in. I wasn’t even sixteen, yet, I was scared out of my wits and I was mostly busy trying to keep myself from dry heaving, the rivulets of blood, still surging from the boy’s wound, a disgusting mockery of a neckband that would haunt me in my sleep for weeks.
As unbefitting of someone telling a story as it might seem I shut down. Evee.exe simply stopped working but it didn’t mean that I curled up and passed out. No, that would have been much too simple, the only consequences to be feared a stammered, improvised explanation as to why I had fainted on the stairs. Instead of blissful oblivion I heard a half exasperated, half amused curse:
“By all the demons in Tartarus, I can’t remember ever being that much of a wuss. Then again, I was already grown up when I was born the first time. Sleep, Evee. I’ll make sure you’re safe. We’ll talk once you wake up.” And that was that. As I felt my legs jerk into motion and an eerie, amethyst light reflected off the windowpanes I passed out, slipping into dreams of blood and violence… except I wasn’t entirely convinced they actually were dreams. When I woke I couldn’t recall any details but while I had been stuck in a world of mists and memories I thought I had recognised some faces, like friends almost forgotten, and that feeling stayed with me far longer than the lingering dread of the world of nightmares I had been thrust into.
When I opened my eyes I was disoriented and the decided lack of light didn’t help, either. Neither did the freezing cold slab of marble I was resting on, or the absolute silence ringing in my ears. In my dazzled state it took me a moment to add two and two together but as soon as I did I jumped to my feet, ice cold panic singing my insides, and immediately fled from the altar. Oh no, I wouldn’t be turned into fertiliser for some sick cult I had never even heard of before. I could fight, for Christ’s sake! If they wanted to get my blood, they’d have to…
A clear, stirring laugh, like the chimes of a silver bell, made me flinch and I desperately looked around in the impenetrable darkness until I realised that the alien sound had escaped my very own mouth. “What the actual fuck,” I breathed, brining the total amount of curses I had uttered in the last days up to about the same amount I had used in all my previous years.
As if in response to my voice the smell of roses wafted up and a mirror a few steps away began to glow in a very familiar amethyst light. While I was still debating whether to take my chances with the darkness and pray to find a way home my body had already decided to ignore me resolutely and was moving, almost on its own, until I stood in front of a silvered pane of glass, about two metres high. My own pale and sweaty face stared back at me, the circles under my eyes as dark as my hair. I raised my hand to caress my cheekbones and touch my lips but… I hadn’t moved an inch.
“Not bad,” my reflection said and my mouth dropped to the floor. Not that it was the strangest thing I had lived through these days, but… “before you get any stupid ideas,” my mirror image continued, “you’re on Mount Olympus. In your home, to be exact. Everyone thinks you’ve vanished and that your temple has been sealed hermetically. If they knew you were in here… trust me, you don’t want that.” I… she raised her hand and the soft, calming glow spread until the whole room was illuminated by a rosy light. “For now, why don’t you look around? Don’t touch the big door, everything else should be fine. Once you’ve walked off the shock we can talk. No need to return to the mirror. Just say our name.”
“Our name…” I whispered in confusion but she only threw me a pitiful glance.
“You’ve already figured it out, haven’t you? Once you find the courage to say it, we can move on.” An almost imperceptible shudder ran through the reflection and she resumed my own, frightened expression and slightly hunched over posture. My knees buckled and the cold, white marble of the floor came up to greet me, a pained “ouch” reverberating through the colossal room.
Despite myself I glanced around and took in the almost fairy tale like architecture. Huge, graceful, white pillars, carved with abstract scenes from Ancient Greece, carried a sloped ceiling, a giant chandelier, equipped with a myriad of candles, burning steadily with smokeless, amethyst flames, sparkling at the centre like a sea of violet stars. Aside from the massive altar I had woken up on, there wasn’t much to see, except for three doors and a towering statue above said slab of marble. The wall on the opposite side was broken by a humongous gate, made entirely from amethysts, golden runes, the likes of which I had never seen, manifested and vanished again on its polished surface. The longer I stared the less details I could make out, the sigils blurring and churning as if made from some kind of arcane liquid. On the other hand, without a chance to focus I realised that the glyphs formed chains, sealing the double door tighter than Artemis’ thighs.
I reflexively clamped my hands over my mouth. Where had that come from? Stupid question, really, but still… Artemis, the Greek goddess of the hunt, the moon and the forest, a fair maiden who had never been touched by a man, which made the analogy sort of fitting but that I had naturally adopted an insulting idiom from the past really wasn’t. Fitting, that is. Sweet Jesus, slowly I was staring to fervently hope that I was experiencing a psychotic episode, brought on by brain trauma and stress, but truth be told, I didn’t think so. Not even for a second. This was real, as much as I’d have loved to pretend otherwise.
In silent wonder and growing fear I scampered back to my feet and focused on the statue above the altar. The next second I was on the floor again, gaping. You’ve probably guessed it. That was me, cut from marble with beautiful amethysts as eyes. I was all grown up with excessive padding in the right places and wearing a tight, short chiton that would have had me blushing like a tomato if I had been forced to wear it in public. A rose, carved out of rubies and emeralds, was climbing up my leg, its shoots teasingly vanishing up my covered thighs. A seashell adorned my forehead like a tiara while my left hand supported the body of a young swan. I held a silver mirror in my right, angled towards the ground like a sword, and a dove rested on my shoulder, nestled tightly against my neck. So much for what I could see.
What I felt was a different matter. I should have been nervous, probably traumatised and grieving, maybe panicked, but I was giddy, giddy with joy. If I grew up to look like that, even if it was as shallow as all hell, I’d cut my losses and call it a day. It’d be worth it. Easily. Beautiful didn’t even come close to describing that woman. No wonder her allure had endured throughout the ages.
