The Gift From Poseidon: When Gods Walked Among Us (Volume 2) (17 page)

Her goldenrod mane glimmers in the same way the rays of the sun bounce off a placid sea.  Ocean blue eyes not just for seeing; they exist to entrance another, to hold him spellbound as her giddy slave.  A birthmark over her right eye in the same shape as the diamonds Gryphon miners dig from the ground simply enhances her beauty.  When he gazed upon the first Mermaid, Thessalonika, for the very first time, Hephaestus gasped: “Only by the hand of Poseidon could a creature the perfect shade of death be so striking, so beautiful.”  Well said, my fire-starter friend and beloved father to my kind … well said.

– Adamarcus, Aeropid Centaur

– Mid-Spring, Year 4,253 KT
[16]

“I feel sorry for the Centaur
she
decides to go after someday!” Persepolis blurted once the foolish, the brave, and the historian drifted out of sight.  He shivered his black and gold self as if trying to shake off a chill.

“You said it, Persepolis,” Adamarcus agreed without a look back.

Taharqa’s handsome dreadlocks just bobbed up and down as he nodded his agreement.  Proud of these dreadlocks that ran to the middle of his back, he often bragged how he was even prouder of how often his father, Seneferre, begged him to cut them.  All three second-years and friends since any of them could remember, Taharqa was a few months younger than Adamarcus.  Although Persepolis was more than a year older than either Centaur, King Achaemenes thought it best that his son attend studies with his closest friends.

The hectic happenings now over, the three resumed their gaze in the direction of the fountain.  Evagoria still sat along the edge.  Her tail uncovered, a silk glacier white corset covered the princess’ torso.  That most of the students were too shy to speak to the stunning Mermaid was not a shock, but to see her all alone as she rewetted her tail sack was.  Adamarcus was no expert on Mermaids – that would be Taharqa – but he knew that young ones needed to do this many times throughout the day until close to adulthood.  From then on, to soak his or her tail twice a day was enough.

Evagoria gazed to the east – her left – and giggled as she watched a group of first-year Gryphons gather around and gawk at the Golden Clepsydra.  Next, her eyes met those of Prince Zacharias.  His adopted brothers, Ahuram and Ahriman, followed just behind him.  Engaged in a locking of the eyes for a few moments, Adamarcus watched as one future regent nodded to the other.

A strategy of how best to approach the Mermaid princess finally settled on, with Taharqa in the lead, the bold trio stepped forth.  Everything about Mermaids awed the giddy Nubian.  The one that others spoke of as a near mythical creation now in their presence, he just had to talk to her.  Once they drew close, Evagoria offered them a shy smile and soft eyes.  Taharqa breathed in the scent of discovery and wonder, and then fired off the first in a series of dumb questions.

“Hello, I’m Taharqa.”  He bowed.  “You are Evagoria, princess and daughter of the Mermaid queen, yes?”

Evagoria smiled a bit wider and nodded.

A rare one indeed, most Mermaids would have quickly pointed out the outright silliness of such a question.  The princess was polite enough not to, but not the prince.  With the uninvited help of harsh whispers in Taharqa’s right ear, Persepolis brought to light his friend’s dimness.

“Did you swallow a spoonful of stupid for breakfast?  The only Mermaid alive with blonde hair and blue eyes – who
else
could she be?”

No doubt to deflect attention away from both himself and his goofy introduction, Taharqa pointed to his friends behind him.  At once, the bold Arachna stepped forth.

“I am Prince Persepolis, favored son of King Achaemenes and first in line to the crown.”  Taharqa and Evagoria both giggled at this pompous presentation.  As they did so, Adamarcus eagerly took a few steps forward.  Before he could open his mouth to speak, Evagoria instantly drew her eyes to him and proclaimed her first words.

“
Adamarcus
– son of the Chiron!  Yes, good Centaur, your name has indeed reached my ears.”  She took a moment to look each of them in the eye.  “Do not look so surprised, my new friends.  Above all else, Mermaids celebrate achievement and gifted creatures – no matter the nation.”

Adamarcus could feel Taharqa and Persepolis turn their dumbfounded looks in his direction.  His own eyes still on Evagoria now grew wide with wonder.

The ‘heavenly creatures’, yes, this was what many called them, but THIS one was above them all!

Evagoria’s grin turned into a more serious look.  With narrow eyes, she began to size them up.  Next, she pointed the separated middle and index fingers of her right hand at the other two.

“All the same,” Evagoria continued, “I have never heard of a Centaur called Taharqa or an Arachna named Persepolis.”  She let out a sigh as if disappointed.  Evagoria then perked up, those icy blues sparkled once more, and her voice turned cheery.  “But fret not!  I’m sure that someday each of you will do something noteworthy – at least
somewhat
– to merit your names reaching our shores.”

Centaurs were rather thick-skinned creatures.  Arachna Majora – not so much.  Persepolis’ bouncing pedipalps and restless front legs trying to say the words his mouth could not, Taharqa would not give him the chance.

“
Is it true?
” he blurted out as if he could not hold back a moment longer.  “Is it true, Princess, that
you
are a gift from Poseidon?  Some are even so bold as to suggest his blood runs through you, yes?”

Adamarcus gazed at Evagoria as if under the spell of a powerful mystic.  He heard Taharqa’s questions, but the words were muffled somewhat, as if coming to him in a dream.  How long his Arachna friend stared at him, he had no clue, but out of the corner of his left eye, he now caught Persepolis doing so.

Was it that obvious the golden siren had so easily captivated him?

Taharqa yet to notice, he focused on his bold quest to continue his unbroken string of dumb questions.  “By Poseidon’s hand, are you a goddess in the form of a Mermaid?”

Only this brainless question was powerful enough to knock Adamarcus from his charmed trance.  He shook his head to rid himself of his dazed stupor and then turned to face Persepolis.  Mouth open ready to answer, a swift pedipalp to the ribs closed it shut.

“
Don’t
answer
that
!” Persepolis whispered sternly.

Smarting from this jab, Adamarcus nodded with a wince.  Next, they pointed their stunned looks at the silly Nubian.  As if an eager youngling waiting to be unleashed into a hall filled with new toys, Taharqa shook with anticipation.  Adamarcus and Persepolis kept their shocked looks steady as they again turned to Evagoria.

The princess had to be used to the doting questions of others about her unique looks –
how could she not be?

Evagoria tied the last ties onto her dripping tail sack and sat motionless for a few moments.  Appearing to Adamarcus as if calm and relaxed to this point, the princess now began to fidget in place.  Finally, she swung her tail to the side of the fountain and let out a nervous laugh.  Evagoria then reached for her walking sticks sitting on the rim of the fountain.  One walking stick under each arm, the striking beauty moved toward the three friends and leaned in close.  Eyes of the deepest ocean blue opened wide with a twinkle of curiosity.

“Did you
actually
mean to ask me that?” she questioned softly with a hint of disbelief.  As Adamarcus and Persepolis burst into laughter, Evagoria smiled sweetly at Taharqa while letting out a small chuckle herself.  His head drooped downward, but he kept his eyes focused on his fascinating subject.

“I would not be the first to ask this,” Taharqa replied sheepishly.

“Nor the last,” she added dryly.  “I will not bore you with myth or what so many others back home might say, but will simply tell you what
I
believe.”

Evagoria straightened herself.  A regal look now graced her glowing face.  Her birthmark shaded slightly darker than the rest of her now turning a noticeably deeper blue ––

The stories were true!

The same way a Centaur would twiddle his thumbs while thinking, she brought her palms close together.  Evagoria created a glow between them, but bronze-made nothing.  She inspected herself for a moment and then spoke in a slow, thoughtful manner.

“I have the same colorful tail, light blue skin, gills to breathe underwater, and the gift of bronze-making every Mermaid has owned since Thessalonika.  Born of my mother with her same poise and smart looks, as I ––”

“And the sunflower colored hair and beautiful …” Adamarcus caught himself and coughed, “and blue eyes no Mermaid is known to have ever had.  Your birthmark as well – how are
these
explained?”

Although Evagoria’s birthmark blended well with the rest of her, it was clearly visible up close.  Split in perfect halves by her right eye, it was
this
birthmark, not her unique hair and eye color, why Mermaids called her the Gift from Poseidon.  A grand myth even Adamarcus now believed just might be true, this mark was proof that the god of the sea had touched Evagoria the day she was molded.

Perfectly shaped, perfectly placed; that it changed colors depending on her mood – what more evidence did one need?

Evagoria gazed upon Adamarcus in a way she had yet to show them.  She bit her lower lip and tilted her head slightly to one side.  After a long pause, she cracked another smile.  Evagoria then looked to the sky and spoke with her hands as much as with her mouth.

“If a storm departs and a calm sky returns – is
this
a gift from Poseidon?  By way of the spring rains, when the green meadows return to choke out the burnt grasses of winter, what do we say to this?  Another gift?  Is a god no one has ever seen or met somehow involved?  As lightning must strike somewhere, then must not a Mermaid be born
someday
who appears different from any other?  Despite my hair and eye color, I am the same as any other.”  Evagoria touched her face under the right eye.  “Well, aside from the birthmark.  All the same, these things are just by chance and mean nothing.”

After a few silent moments, Taharqa spoke a little more carefully, but his words were no less sensational.  “All the same, we have heard many legends about you.  More than one suggests that you were born from magic and delivered to the queen by Poseidon himself.”

“
Actually
, my good Nubian,” Evagoria proclaimed with a chuckle, “every Mermaid babe is delivered into the waiting arms of eager mothers by kind-hearted snow petrels that swoop down from the clouds!”

Taharqa’s face now beamed brighter than the sun.  He then turned to Adamarcus and Persepolis and threw them the smuggest of looks.  “HA!  I knew it!”

“We will
never
doubt you again!” Persepolis nodded.

“No god – Poseidon or any other – plays a role in this. 
Especially
when it comes to me.”

Persepolis took a step back and turned his head as he looked at Evagoria.  “By how you speak of him, it sounds like you do not share your kind’s belief in the almighty Poseidon?”

Adamarcus very much wondered the same.  He had never heard of a Mermaid who didn’t.  Evagoria rubbed her chin and her birthmark quickly turned more violet than blue.

“Do I believe,” she began slowly, “that an all-powerful being no one has ever seen exists?  The ruler of all the seas, has he ever sent a messenger on his behalf or just once taken or saved a life that we know of?  As it was Desdessandra who created the Mermaids and Centaurs – perhaps
she
is the goddess?  On the other hand, as I recall how it ended for her, maybe not!

“If I were a goddess, the Queen of queens – or if not so lucky, the King of kings –
I
would walk amongst my creations.  Their hearts would always be at peace, for they would know that
I
was always there to protect and guide them whenever, wherever.”  Evagoria raised her hands to the sky, looked all around, and then focused on Persepolis.  “My good Arachna prince, look about us.  From the Pillars of Fire to the northern sea, from West to East, do you see this Poseidon among us?”

A vacant look and more shaking of his head was Persepolis’ only response.

Adamarcus took in all Evagoria said.  As was usually the case in regards to such talk amongst his friends, his fertile mind itched to stretch less gifted ones.  The one question every intelligent creature had ever asked himself should do the trick.

“Somehow, someway, we were made from
something
by
someone
?  No matter if honest or wicked, another much wiser must eventually judge us for our actions.  It would not be fair if a murderous Centaur met the same fate upon death as the kindest Mermaid.  What would be the point of it all?”

This question silenced them all for a short bit.  As she seemed to have a habit of doing, Evagoria broke the stillness yet again.

“HA!” the wide-eyed princess crowed.  “Whosoever said life was fair?  In the end, a living Poseidon or no, this matters not.”  As if she sought to echo her mother, Evagoria puffed out her chest and did her best to deepen her voice.  “A future Mermaid queen lives her life with two goals in mind above all others.  Ensure the kingdom she passes on is better off than she received it, and as our world’s superior species, help the other nations strive to match the grand achievements of the Mermaids.”

Queen Diedrika might as well have spoken these words.  Perhaps she had and Evagoria was just now repeating them.

No matter her lineage, birthright, or destiny, such words were of one who ruled, not of one who hoped to.

How Evagoria had said this in such a matter of fact way left the three friends thunderstruck.  Still with codfish mouths and bulging eyes, Komnena’s loud voice swept over them.  It was time for the groups to reassemble.  All around them and from every direction, students rushed toward her.