Seeds: Volume Two (25 page)

o0o

     The afternoon sun shone brightly on Delphi and the people who had come to petition the Oracle to tell them their fates. The waves crashed nearby, providing a soothing backdrop to the Oracle's meditation as she went within, doing her best to read the intricate threads that the Fates had woven.

     The breeze was cool on her face, but she barely noticed it as she tried to see the future of the young man before her. Her assistants stood nearby, waiting for her to utter the man's destiny before they led him away from the pavilion.

     Suddenly, the Oracle's face convulsed in pain, and her entire body stiffened. A strangled moan escaped her throat, and the maidens were immediately at her side, having never seen this before. Sometimes she might twitch a bit, or have an expression of intense concentration, but never pain. She delivered even the direst of prophecies with a calm expression, and the man took a step back when she started shaking.

     The Oracle had seen plenty of twisted images in her visions – incest, rape, murder, theft, violence, but the images that were now flashing before her spoke of a dire fate on a much grander scale than she had ever seen before.

    
People were mobbing the estates of wealthy and the temples of the gods, gaunt-faced and wailing for food, their hands forming claws resembling those of carrion-birds as they descended onto the nobles and priests...

    
Neighbors fighting one another for scraps of food, friend turning against friend as they abandoned the bonds they shared with others to feed the gnawing emptiness of their stomachs...

    
Children with swollen and distended stomachs crying for their mothers, gnawing on pieces of leather and even eating dirt as their short lives drew to a close...

    
Emaciated corpses lying in the beds, slumped against chairs, splayed out on the floors, curled up in fetal positions on the fields that had once nourished them, to be eaten by vermin and flies because there was nobody left to bury them...

    
Thin, bedraggled priests and priestesses fervently praying to the gods to end their plight even as they cut the throat of undernourished animals, the blood spilling on the ground but offering no sustenance to human or earth...

    
Wild-eyed people scrambling after things they never would have put on their plates before, seeking out the last of the insects and vermin and whatever else they could get their hands on...

    
Orphaned waifs wandering the streets, begging alms from people who had nothing left to give...

    
An epic struggle for existence when there was no nourishment or sustenance, and amidst all these terrifying visions, a great, terrible figure loomed, a sickle in one hand, the other hand empty.

     “There will be great famine until the child is returned to her mother!” the Oracle screeched before she fell out of her chair, slumping onto the ground, unresponsive to the frantic attempts of her attendants to revive her.

Chapter XXXIII

o0o

     Since Demeter had started scourging various realms of Hellas, spreading her wrath even as Zeus refused to admit that what he had done was wrong, Persephone found herself being visited by disturbing dreams. Being in the Underworld had not severed her ties to the world above, and she felt its pain as if it were her own.

     She twitched almost feverishly in her sleep as she dreamed of walking along parched fields, seeing the withered stalks of wheat and feeling their brittle crunch under her feet. What bothered her was that her Gift did not work any better here than it worked in the Underworld. The earth simply did not respond because it had no life-energy of its own for her to manipulate. The evidence of plants here had to mean that at one time, there had been plenty, according to the sheer volume of the dead growth.

     The air was dry and carried the scent and taste of dust, and as she walked further, she saw the corpses of dead animals. Here the remains of a cow, desiccated skin stretched across its skeleton, and further, a coop with barely-recognizable hens, their feathers littering the yard and covered with even more dust. To her dismay, she saw tiny little lumps that could only be chicks, and she blinked back tears as she thought about the times she held these little fluffy yellow babies in her hands, cooing at them and stroking their soft fuzz. No matter where she looked or walked, all she saw was desolation.

     The sight of the sea brought her relief until she came closer and saw rotting fish along the shore.

     Everything felt so real that she wondered if she might be on the surface world again. If not, this had to be some... hellish region of Tartarus that she had never seen! It was as if everything that represented decay – the dried-out fields, the dust-clouds, the dead livestock and seafood, the barren forests and orchards, the houses with corpses lying about – had all been smashed up together to make an terrifying world. Nothing made sense!

     She sunk to her knees, letting out a long, loud shriek. She hated this place and wanted to be away from it as far and as soon as possible!

     “What are you doing here?” a voice demanded. She whipped around to see a gaunt-looking black-garbed man standing there, staring at her with eyes that seemed to bore into her soul. She stared at him for several long moments, thinking about how much he resembled Hypnos. They had the same facial structure and lean build, but where the God of Sleep's eyes and hair were light, this man's hair and eyes were as black as his clothing, and rather than the sleepy, pleasant expression Hypnos often wore, this man's face was the exact opposite, his gaze sharp and penetrating.

     “Who are you?” she asked.

     “I asked a question first.”

     “Answer mine first,” she replied defiantly. He narrowed his eyes, staring at her for several moments. Gathering up her courage, she glared back at him.

     “You are not mortal,” he finally said.

     “I take it you are not, either.”

     “No god may intrude upon my domain.”

     “I was not trying to. Where am I?”

     “You are in the Dreaming.”

     Persephone shook her head slowly before gesturing to the desolation around her. “This is the realm of dreams?” she asked with obvious disbelief.

     “This is what mortals dream of.”

     “Every mortal?”

     “Of course not. This is only part of it.” He sounded condescending, and she bristled, refusing to be talked down to.

     “Well, I did not ask to come here or be a part of these dreams. I have not seen anyone. Except for you, of course. Who are you?”

     “I am the lord of dreams.”

     “Aha. Morpheus. Why am I here?”

     “I am just as surprised to see you here as you are to be here,” he replied.

     “There must be some reason I am here. I have seen this over the last few nights. I do not want to be here!”

     “Despite that, you find yourself drawn to these particular dreams. This is a troubled place.”

     “I can tell,” she replied dryly.

     “Who are you, anyway?”

     “Surely... you must know?” How could Morpheus be a chthonic deity and not know who she was? He stared at her blankly.

     “Very well. I am Persephone.”

     “Ah, the bride of Aidoneus. We meet at last.” He inclined his head in a slight bow.

     “Why would mortals dream of such a horrible place?” she asked.

     “Dreams are not always about people's wishes or fantasies. Dreams also serve as prophecy, and are often a reflection of reality, or the truth that people try to hide from in the waking world.”

     “Hmm.” She frowned thoughtfully. What did that have to do with her? “Is there nothing I can do?”

     “You cannot change anything in the Dreaming. This is my domain.”

     “That is not what I meant. Far be it for me to try to interfere in someone else's realm. I simply meant, how can I stop myself from coming here? It does not make sense that I keep coming back here, and I have no desire to be in this... dreadful place.”

     “The Dreaming is affected by what happens in reality, and vice-versa.  There must be a connection between you and what is happening in reality. Sometimes dreams offer an answer.”

     Was it just her, or did the chthonic deities enjoy talking in riddles? Before she could ask another question, the visage of Morpheus and this bleak realm wavered for a moment before disappearing and Persephone gasped softly, opening her eyes to find herself in the familiar surroundings of Hades's bedchamber.

     She sat up in bed, careful to not rouse the Lord of the Dead as he slept peacefully at her side. As she was about to climb out of bed, a pale, strong arm reached out to pull her back, and she found herself enveloped in a strong embrace.

     “Mm, where do you think you are going, my love?”

     “I could not sleep,” she replied softly.

     “Is something the matter?”

     “I just.... had a bad dream.”

     “Oh? Want to tell me about it?”

     “No.”

     “Are you sure?” he asked gently. She nodded, thinking of the horrible desolation in her dreams, and Morpheus's cryptic words.

     “Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

     “I do not know,” she muttered. He rubbed her bare arms, nuzzling her shoulder.

     “There
must
be something I can do to comfort you.”

     “Maybe.”

     “You know I can do much better than a maybe,” he whispered into her ear. She could not help but smile at the obvious concern he was showing, and the affection that he promised. A distraction provided by the sexy and handsome Lord of the Underworld was as good a distraction as any.

     “Show me, then.”

     “Gladly,” he replied, pulling her back down as he started to rain kisses along her face.

o0o

     Several guards stood around the clearing, watching the four princesses of Eleusis as they relaxed by the well, drawing water from it and cooling themselves on this unusually warm autumn day. Tired of the confinement of the small Palace, the girls had pleaded with their parents to allow them an outing to the hills just outside of the Palace, and with all the worries that had been besieging the family lately, Celeus decided to let them out so they could enjoy themselves. Of course, there were soldiers accompanying them, ready to escort them back at the first sign of danger, but the girls were hardly ones to complain. They had explored the hills, gathering berries and gorging themselves on many of them as they enjoyed the cold water they drew from the well.

     Thalassa sat in the grass as her younger sisters played tag, laughing and running around the clearing, forgetting their worries for the time being. The harvest this year promised to be meager, so they would have to ration their food to last through the winter. This meant that they would have very little to try to bribe the warlords with unless they wanted to go hungry. The man who sought her hand was a disgusting man with a scraggly beard, foul body odor, most of his teeth missing from his head, and a leer in his eye that made it clear that he saw women as something to be used as he saw fit, so she could not expect to have a husband who treated her like Father treated Mother. Demophon drew closer to death, becoming paler and thinner every day at an age where he should be learning how to walk. All their prayers and sacrifices had been for naught. Why did the gods ignore their pleas?

     “Halt!” she heard one of the men shout. Her head whipped up to see a solitary figure meander through the trees along the thin path. It appeared to be an old woman, slow of step and stooped over.

     “Stand down,” Thalassa said, raising her hand. The guard remained where he was, his spear raised, but he made no move towards the newcomer. The woman – at least, Thalassa was certain it was a she – was wrapped in a worn dark gray cloak.

     “Who might you be?” Thalassa asked as her sisters stopped their playing to stare at the visitor.

     “Ahh, child. You can call me Doso.”

     “Doso, you look so tired. Come and sit down.” Thalassa had removed her cloak because it was so warm, and folded it to make a comfortable seat. She guided the old woman to it and helped her sit down.

     “Would you like some water?” Eirene, the youngest of the girls, asked.

     “Oh, that would be so nice. Thank you!” she said, lifting her face, showing a network of wrinkles around a pair of bright, yellow-green eyes. Eirene quickly hastened to draw up another bucket of water, carrying it to Doso and scooping out a cupful with the ladle they had brought with them. The old woman gulped up the contents of the ladle, and Eirene was quick to refill it.

     After Doso was sated, she beamed at the girls cheerfully. “Thank you for such a kindness to a little old woman.”

     “It would be very rude of us to not offer hospitality,” Thalassa replied matter-of-factly. “But what were you doing alone? Do you live in the city?”

     “Oh, I am afraid not, dear. Pirates raided my village and killed so many men, and took the rest as slaves. I managed to escape, and have been wandering for days. I cannot return to my village, it is in ruins and I have no more family.”

     The four girls stared at her in shock and sympathy.

     “Would you like to come home with us?” Thalassa offered.

     “You would take in an old woman?”

     “Of course. Come with us, please.”

     “You are too kind!” Doso beamed at them, feeling warmed by their generosity towards a stranger. “Oh, I do not know your names!”

     “I am Thalassa. This is Melinoe...” She gestured to the girl who was a couple of years younger than herself, “and Aethra...” She pointed at the next younger girl, “And Eirene.” The youngest sister waved at Doso.

     “Would you like some berries too? We have been gathering them.” She gestured to several baskets, and the old woman nodded. After eating a handful, she glanced at the girls. Thalassa remained near while the other girls went back to playing.

     “How do you feel?” Thalassa asked, her brown eyes twinkling warmly.

     “The water and berries were good for my body, but the kindness you have shown nourishes my soul,” she replied. Thalassa draped her arm across Doso's shoulders companionably, giving the old woman a gentle squeeze.

o0o

     Demeter was silent as the girls led her into the Palace. She was even more impressed by their hospitality when they revealed that they were princesses. They could have just turned her loose in the city, but no, they were actually inviting her into the Palace! She could see that they had good hearts, and for the first time in so long, felt her heart warmed.  So many of the mortals she had encountered would ignore her, or act inappropriately, especially when she was in the guise of an old woman. It disgusted her that people would ignore the laws of hospitality, but she felt all the more justified for spreading the famine. These girls would certainly be shocked if they knew that hunger and misery followed her step!

     However, her wrath was mollified by the kindness of these girls, and she maintained her guise as Thalassa led her through the courtyard. She glanced at the garden, her eyes meeting the insolent stare of a young man that to her resembled vermin, with his beady eyes and pointed nose.

     “Oh, that is Abas, the gardener. Ignore him,” Thalassa whispered as she helped the old woman up the steps. The cries of a baby broke the silence, but the wail was thin and reedy, and died away with a gasp. Demeter did not miss the stiffening of the maiden's shoulders at the cry.

     They entered a spacious chamber that had a weaving loom at one end, and a table at the other. Near the window, a middle-aged but attractive woman sat, cradling a baby against her chest, trying to comfort it. She looked up as the girls entered with their companion.

     “Greetings, Mother. This is Doso. She came to us when we were at the well. Her family and village were destroyed by pirates, but she managed to escape and has been wandering for days. I told her she could stay with us and recuperate.”