The Gift From Poseidon: When Gods Walked Among Us (Volume 2) (20 page)

The last Sapien ever born had wandered alone ever since.  On this day still a child, Scutaria had barely aged in the same time a Mermaid or Centaur would have been born and entered adulthood.  Non-Sapiens who saw Scutaria light her father’s funeral pyre seventeen years ago saw a four-year-old girl.  Today, she would still look only seven or eight to these aged eyes.  Every five years in the life of a Mermaid, Centaur, Gryphon, or Arachna was but one year for a Sapien child.  And once the skin of childhood was shed, the years only turned slower from there. 

Scutaria was, of course, a good deal smarter than any seven or eight-year-old Mermaid or Centaur; physically and emotionally, however, they would be equals.  Long life seen by so many as the greatest of gifts to envy, for this lonely little one, it must have seemed the cruelest of curses.  A spot of charity given here and there during the harsh winters, as for the other seasons, the orphan girl was on her own.

There are three pieces of history every Gryphon cub learns of once old enough to do more than babble.  Semitius’ golden battle helmet gifted to him by the Arachna king, Nowzar, is the first.  The Golden Clepsydra is the second.  The third is a wooden trinket.  It is detailed and colorful, but simple enough for another to copy easily.  It is small, but its meaning is near boundless.  This piece of history BY FAR the most important of the three; as is so often the case, the simplest symbols are the most powerful.

– Komnena, Sapien Historian

– Late Spring, Year 4,253 KT
[20]

Despite Marseea’s and Komnena’s best efforts to be sneaky, many noticed the comings and goings of King Judiascar, Hezekiah, and King Achaemenes over the previous two weeks.  Some older students had even caught wind of what was coming, but wisely did not tell others.  Imagined consequences at the hands of their headmistress, no doubt, kept these mouths shut.

This day an especially grand one, Marseea had invited not only every student, but also the parents of students and siblings not yet old enough for teachings.  Under the sun’s bright rays, beaming mothers and fathers now escorted their wide-eyed younglings into the gardens.  Luckily, there was no chance of rain.

Queen Diedrika and Theodoric led Evagoria.  With every day, the princess appeared to grow wiser, more mature, yet still owned an innocence Komnena cherished.  Sadly, this would not last long.  Each time she recalled what Marseea had told her of the budding tempest that dwelled deep inside Evagoria, a sharp pain knifed through her heart.

“Come this way, Great Queen,” Penthesilea called kindly as Komnena watched her daughter motion for the trio to follow her.  “I have already chosen a spot close to the front just for you.”  The young witch pointed to layers of brilliantly colored blankets on the ground and then sped off to seat others.

Bookended by Ahuram and Ahriman, Zacharias led his mother, Eeshaya, into the gardens.  The parents of the Gryphon twins having died when they were young, Judiascar adopted them soon after.

Komnena looked on as important Centaurs and Arachna began to arrive.  Adamarcus, Fu Xi, and Taharqa leading their parents, Persepolis and King Achaemenes followed just behind.  The Centaur and Arachna families in their proper places just a few pike lengths away from where Komnena stood, Achaemenes slipped away.  He too had a part to play in the performance.  A few moments later, she noticed Melanippe wander over to them.

“Hello, Taharqa!  Hello, little one!” the elder twin chimed excitedly.

Seneferre and his Nubian wife, Abarah, smiled kindly.  Their younglings playing quietly atop a goldenrod blanket trimmed in emerald green, Taharqa peeked up and returned this greeting as his younger sister, Shepenupet, giggled.  Melanippe winked at them and then joined her mother.

Abarah could not lay down with the others because the Centaur chariot attached to where her rear legs once were did not allow it, but this mattered not.  Her wide smile burned with the brightness of white flame lit by the sun.  Just as always.

Fellow historians invited as well, Penelope, Viracocha, and Zarathustra stood together behind the audience.  Komnena chuckled as she watched Penelope cleverly wiggle closer to Viracocha – perhaps the pipe he puffed on kept him too busy to notice.

*****

At the southern side of the sundrenched audience, Komnena waited in the flickering shadows cast by the Golden Clepsydra.  Dressed all in white, she was in charge of telling the crowd when to cheer, gasp, or stay quiet.  The actors now appeared – Komnena held up a large, yet easy to hold sign of thin bamboo – and those gathered unleashed a round of thunderous applause.

“Welcome one and all,” Queen Marseea announced with a strong voice, “to a grand performance many weeks in the making.  The four of us assigned the role of a long dead, but infamous another,” she motioned to those standing next to her, “it is time for introductions.”

Achaemenes stood to the right of Marseea and to her left sat Judiascar and Hezekiah.  The males all wore colorful, handsome cloaks and the queen was dressed in a blue stola.  A deep purple palla covered her head.  Sandals visible only when she walked gleamed as if gold.  Because Gryphon jewelsmiths had crafted the Heart of Terra Australis years
after
the turbulent time this performance would whisk them all back to, she did not wear it around her neck.

“Our regal kings will, of course, play themselves,” Marseea continued, “but twenty-four centuries in the past.  Hezekiah will play the part of Evenshai,” she pointed in his direction, “the master jewelsmith who lived during the fascinating age we are about to enter.  I must apologize that no Mermaids or Centaurs will be a part of today’s performance.  As neither kind yet existed,” her voice turned playful as she wiggled her fingers, “my hands are tied!”  Marseea took in the polite clapping and sucked in a deep breath.  Her tone then turned more serious.

“Every Sapien alive today stares down the edge of a cliff from which our race will soon fall.  Two great wars across the centuries have led us here.  Both fought atop the open plains of Lapith Fields, both led by natural leaders fighting the unyielding grip of a cruel regent, both were stunning defeats.  The first of these ruinous wars was the Gryphon Exodus in year 1,399.  The noble Gryphon Semitius the hero, King Nowzar his brave sidekick, Orestes the youngling in the middle of it all … a most loathed queen, the villain.”

A dark shadow crept over Marseea and her face turned near wicked.

“As for who this villain is, prepare yourselves, Gryphons!  A name that causes every spine to shudder, a name that bathes my tongue in bitterness as I prepare to speak it: the infamous royal wretch herself – Queen Gorgynna!”

“Arachna hated the hag too!” Persepolis called out amongst the flurry of boos.  These boos suddenly nothing but echoes, even some Gryphons allowed themselves to laugh at the prince’s quip.

With a smirk as if an order, the shadow about Marseea turned to bathing light.  She reached down and picked up a small object covered in cloth.  In grand fashion, Marseea then pulled away the black silk shroud and let it flutter to the ground.  Stunned gasps followed and continued long after the cloth settled onto the grass.

“Zacharias, future king – what do you see?”  All eyes followed those of Marseea’s and landed on the proud prince.

“It is of Semitius, Headmistress.”  His voice was firm, but Komnena could see his beak shake and those silver diamonds for eyes swell with pride.  “A wooden toy carved and painted by the little boy needed to free us … Orestes.”

“And who was this young boy the grandson of?”

“Q-Queen G-G-Gorgynna,” Zacharias stuttered back in little more than a whisper.

The colorful toy carved in the shape of a Gryphon sat atop a pillow of silk inside the glass treasure box.  The toy was small enough to fit into a pocket and the chest light enough for Marseea to hold easily.  Its base, corners, and lid were made of a rich redwood that only grew at the steppes of the Guardian Mountains.  Frosted etchings decorated the glass on every side but the front.  The petite chest was a stunning work of art, yet still not worthy to carry such treasure.  At least not until one considered the magic that kept it safe.  This tiny treasure passed around, a good bit of time went by before it finally wound up in Zacharias’ talons.

“Now, because of the actions of Semitius,” Marseea told glazed, bewildered eyes, “Orestes grew up despising the Gryphons he once adored.  This fury, however, would not last.  As happened with many Sapiens once Gorgynna’s wickedness faded from memory, he awakened to the sinful nature of keeping such regal beings as slaves.  As for me, I will play Orestes’ daughter: Queen Medea.  Our performance ready to begin, but first a little test of sorts!”

Moans and whiny groans from students lazily made their way from one side of the audience to the other.  Komnena ready to raise the ‘Quiet’ sign – she did not have to.  A stern glare from their headmistress shut every young mouth and beak at once.  Marseea then pointed in Zacharias’ direction.

“Orestes’ carved toy no ordinary keepsake,” Marseea said excitedly, “what keeps it safe is likewise no ordinary chest.  Not even close – it is
unbreakable
!”

Gasps, not groans, followed these words.  With a single talon, Zacharias gently tapped the glass.  Each tap a little harder than the last, he then did so a few more times.

“Don’t be shy, Good Prince!  Break the chest!” Marseea commanded.

An unsure look swiftly became one of resolve and a smirk grew wide across his beak.  In a swift motion, he lay down the chest upon the grass, withdrew with his right claw a mace from under his cloak, and stood tall.  Ready to strike true, Marseea sprung at Zacharias with arms raised and stopped him just before he could.

“Any other day is fine, of course,” she giggled nervously, “but no fatalities in front of our gathered kings, queens, and Chiron today, Zacharias.”  She swooped down and scooped up the chest.

Marseea led Zacharias to the rear of the entranced audience; he still carried the mace as if it were a light twig.  After a short walk, she then set the chest on the grass a few pike lengths away from the closest of the two fountains that guarded the Golden Clepsydra.  Marseea positioned Zacharias so that the chest sat between him and the fountain.  She then stood behind him and a bit to the side.

“Now,” the tricky queen proclaimed in a loud voice, “unleash your destructive tendencies!”

With a confident chuckle, Zacharias raised his mace and swung it straight for the chest that would cry out in terror if only it could….

Or would it?

No matter, the crowd behind them did so in its place.  Slammed flush against the frosted glass, the head of the mace shattered into many sharp pieces.  These shards of bronze flew away from Zacharias and in the direction of the fountain.

The sudden applause near deafening –
had others ever cheered so loudly upon seeing another fail so spectacularly?

Komnena let out a deep breath as relief swept over her.  She knew of the protective spell, of course, but this test of it still made her tremble.  If the spell failed and the mace had crushed the chest and the carved toy along with it ––

Who knew what the shredded result might be?

Zacharias tossed the sheared handle of the splintered mace to the ground, shook his stunned head, and made his way back to his mother’s side.  A sly smile across her face, Marseea followed him back with the unscathed treasure chest in hand.  And as she did so, Komnena kept a keen stare in the fountain’s direction.

Owning the eyes of a Gryphon and the ears of a fox – she was a historian after all – Komnena caught sight of the sneaking child.  Two of the palest blue eyes set just below a tangled mop of hair more dirty than blonde had been peeking over the far side of the fountain’s lip.  Despite that she appeared as if always in dire need of a soapy scrubbing, the hiding orphan girl owned eyes that sparkled as if stars in the night.  Even during the day.  But one other in their world owned such eyes: Evagoria.

As shattered bronze from Zacharias’ wrecked mace hurtled toward her, Scutaria had ducked and now hid her wispy form behind the fountain.  This last Sapien ever born was no doubt interested in the two caged balls of fluff currently hidden from all.

Komnena looked about and at once realized no others had seen the naughty child.  She then motioned for her twins to approach.  After a few whispers, she sent them to escort the little one from the gardens.  Penthesilea more than eager to, Melanippe appeared sad to have to do so.

Queen Marseea now standing once again before the audience, the Gift from Poseidon simply could not resist.

“Headmistress!” Evagoria called out in a squeaky, high-pitched voice.  This voice not how her mother spoke, the princess cleared her throat.  She then raised her chin high, a gleam of wonder glimmered in those sparkling eyes, and her voice morphed into a deeper tone.  “If you can make a spell to make something unbreakable, why not do this to armor and weapons and, well,
everything
?”

“If only we could,” Marseea answered.  “This spell, enchanted dust, and potions needed are so complex that even
I
have trouble getting them right.  Found only in the rocks that every now and then fall from the sky,” she shot Judiascar a frosty glare, “the ferrum needed is
very
rare.  The many times I have tried the spell, I have been successful in but a handful of attempts and only with objects made of wood or glass.”  Marseea smiled mischievously.  “Would you wear a wooden helmet, Princess?”

“Yes!” Evagoria said excitedly.  “If it meant armor no weapon could pierce.”

Marseea strolled close to the princess and Queen Diedrika.  Komnena watching as the queens matched intrigued stares, smoky greys then moved from glowing greens to baby blues.  The words to come next were a tad mocking, but for the most part reverent.

“Gift from Poseidon, only daughter of the greatest Mermaid queen to ever live, owner of a destiny so grand only the gods dare discuss it – you have enough help, child.  Leave some for the rest of us.”

Laughs all around, Evagoria smiled kindly.  She was probably somewhat embarrassed by this, but did not show it.

“Headmistress!” a Gryphon student called out.  “The chest and Unity Tablet pieces aside, are there any other objects you know of that have this spell?”

His look quite telling, this one’s father appeared ready to smack the young Gryphon for asking a question he should have already known the answer to, but he wisely held back.  Marseea set her gaze on Komnena.

“Not counting the weapon the most cursed creature in our world wields,” Komnena chimed in, “there is but one other: Queen Diedrika’s bow.”

Diedrika smiled wide.  She wore a deep purple corset made of Arachna silk and trimmed with bronze.  Diedrika swung her bow sling around from behind her back, unhitched the bow from its holder, and proudly held it high for all to see.  Although made of mammoth tusk and wood, the sun’s rays bounced off the bow as if it were brightly polished gold.