The Necklace of Goddess Athena

by Effrosyni Moschoudi

  “Come on now, Efimios! Go on! Do your best!” Her voice began to sound intoxicating, like a drug that numbed his defenses and logic. It made him want to prove himself strong for her. It also made him curious to see the mysterious object she had in mind to give him.

  Efimios took two confident steps forward. Placing his small palms on the left side of the rock, he started to push with all his might. The shape of the rock was an almost perfect sphere, so he aimed to try to roll it sideways. His sandals scrunched up the cool grass as the muscles of his upper body tightened and trembled with the exertion. He stopped just for a few seconds to catch his breath and then continued his effort, clenching his teeth, grunting, and taking one deep breath after another.

  He wasn’t one to give up, and the old lady knew that. She had chosen well, and she smiled smugly as she watched, rubbing her wrinkled hands together. Beads of sweat formed on the boy’s face as he continued to push the rock aside, his palms red hot now, his face contorted with tension.

  A big spider sprang out from behind the rock scurrying to the ground to find new cover, and the boulder finally moved. Once it started rolling, Efimios found it easier.

  When the opening was revealed, the boy doubled over placing his hands on his knees trying to catch his breath. Sweat dripped like morning dew from his face as he bowed down. His hands hurt like they were on fire. The old lady approached him, placing a gnarled hand on his crouched back.

  Efimios felt a shiver course down his spine, and something magical happened that drew out from his body all signs of pain and exertion. The sweat dried on his skin, the feeling of heat in his hands dissipated, and the burning sensation in the muscles of his upper body began to ease. He was no longer panting but now found himself breathing normally again.

  He stood, feeling rejuvenated, so rested as if he’d just woken from long hours of sleep. Even the feelings of hunger and thirst which had started to bother him, were now gone. Stunned to silence, he turned to look at the old woman.

  Guessing his thoughts, she smiled to reassure him. “Don’t worry, Efimios! There is nothing for you to fear! As you can see, by touching you, I can only benefit you. Am I right?” She winked.

  “Who are you, kind lady?”

  “Come to my home and I will show you! In there lies your reward too. Let us not forget. A promise is a promise!” She put an arm around him and they walked in.

  The cave was about fifteen paces in length but much narrower in width. Lit torches hung from the walls. There was no bed or even bedding on the ground that would suggest this was indeed someone’s dwelling. There was no furniture either. The only objects Efimios could identify with certainty, were some large ceramic vases standing in a corner.

  The woman noticed him looking at them and said she stored olive oil in those, adding that there’s no light in the world without it. Efimios thought that sounded rather poetic, and this made him relax somewhat again. There were other noticeable things in the cave that didn’t support her story that this was her private dwelling. These things made the cave look more like a place of gathering for obscure ceremonies, and he wondered if, far from being rewarded, he was to become an offering on the stone altar that stood in the midst of the twilit space.

  His knees trembled at the thought but, after all, she was only small and fragile-looking. If he had to, he could push her away and run. His eyes darted to the strange candles atop their golden stands on the altar and he cringed. Their light was dim and eerie, promoting a haunting atmosphere.

  Slowly, he started to walk away from the altar and toward the exit. He hoped for a quick escape, just in case, but then noticed two thrones carved in the rock on either side of the cave. Just as he was about to comment on them, the old woman beckoned to him to come closer.

  She was standing in front of the altar, looking at him in a way that made her look fragile. Once again, Efimios felt ashamed for letting his wild imagination get the better of him. She gave an amicable smile and he walked up to her.

  He swallowed hard when he reached her and followed her eyes to the very center of the altar. There, he saw a necklace of untold beauty. Its pendant was placed in a round recess carved inside the stone, leaving its long, golden chain free. In the center of the pendant, there was a large moonstone. Tiny quartz crystals dotted all around it. A spear and a battle helmet were embossed on the pendant on the left and right of the moonstone respectively. Efimios had seen plenty of gems in his short life, being the son of a rich merchant, but this necklace was impressive, more so than any other he’d seen. He hoped this was what the old lady had in mind to give him. Breathless, he watched as she took the necklace from the altar. Its chain sparkled in mid-air. With a faint, rustling sound, it slithered onto the palm of her hand like a subdued snake.

  “As you know, I made you a promise to repay you for your good deed. I will do so, but first, I will answer your question regarding my identity.”

  Efimios watched silently as the old woman took three steps back from him and placed the necklace on her heart. With her other hand, she started striking her stick on the ground again and, as before, it made that unnatural, metallic sound.

  All at once, a blinding white light surrounded her, and the ground shook. A tremendous roar rose from under it. Blinded by the light and paralyzed with fear, the boy fell to the ground with his eyes tightly shut. Seconds later, it all stopped.

  Stunned, Efimios opened his eyes to see that semi-darkness had returned. He stood and what he saw before him, made his jaw drop. The old lady had vanished, and a young maiden of incredible beauty stood before him. She was unnaturally tall. Her body was lithe and athletic. She was dressed in a flimsy robe underneath a suit of armor. Her long black hair and helmet shone, forming a halo that crowned her head in glory. She had a tall forehead, arched eyebrows, and her eyes twinkled like stars. Holding the necklace to her heart still, she gave a confident smile that exposed perfect, pearly teeth.

  Efimios noticed that she was holding a long spear in her other hand, the real source behind the unnatural sound of the old lady’s walking stick. Unless she was a witch who had fooled his mind with trickery, he was in the company of a goddess, without a doubt.

  “Efimios, come to me!” she commanded. Her look was proud, yet kind. Despite his fear, he made two steps forward and knelt before her, overcome with awe.

  The woman placed a gentle hand on his back. “Stand up! You have nothing to fear, brave one!”

  Efimios obeyed and rested his eyes on hers only for a split second, before bowing his head again. She took his hand and led him to sit on one of the two thrones carved in the walls. She sat on the other and revealed to him that she was Goddess Athena, the goddess of wisdom and beloved daughter of Zeus.

  That day, she asked him to help her protect Athens, the city she’d taken under her wing since the day she was announced on the Acropolis as the appointed patron deity. Efimios was excited by the prospect and didn’t falter even when she mentioned his services to her would involve repeated transportation through time.

  Humbled by the fact that she’d chosen him, and driven by his innate bravery and courage, Efimios had found in himself no qualms about accepting. And so, that day, he went home with Athena’s sacred necklace around his neck, having promised to come back to the cave the next day, and the next after that, until all her biddings were done.

  ***

  Under the awning, Phevos sighed at the thought of his father, who had accepted without fear, the honor to serve Athena. He had become an unseen hero of the city of Athens, but like so many Greek heroes, he had paid dearly for both his bravery and excellence. Phevos scrunched up the sandwich wrapper and threw it in the bin. On his way back into the store to resume work, he fingered the necklace through the fabric of his shirt. It had many stories to tell, and Phevos wished to know all its secrets. Why had his father given to him? Phevos hoped to finally open the sealed door later that day and start to get some answers.

  Chapter 14

  It was late afternoon
. By now, Phevos was bursting at the seams with anticipation. Only two hours left at work.

  Next door in Pallada, his sister was upstairs. She’d been thinking of Aris all day as she went from room to room, cleaning, sweeping and making beds. She’d just finished her chores and was about to return downstairs when she heard Aris’s voice echoing from reception below. He’d arrived in Pallada a couple of days earlier.

  Every day, he’d greet her with his earnest smile, but each time Daphne found herself feeling all the more awkward in his presence, and quite tongue-tied, even for small talk. By now, she knew she was in love with him but felt very pessimistic about it. In her eyes, Aris was a man of the world. She thought he could have any woman he wanted and that he’d never notice a timid girl like her. Her heart skipped a beat at the sound of his laughter, and she came down the steps in a hurry, even though she knew that once she saw him, she’d be tongue-tied again. She hadn’t seen him since early morning. The color of gold in his eyes had become the sweetest drug to her by now. She had to have her fix one more time before bedtime.

  Reaching the bottom of the stairs, she found him standing before his mother near the front door. Soft rays of sunlight were streaming in through it, bathing the entrance in a golden hue, embracing mother and son in an aura that made them look radiant. The effect created a scene that was almost religious, like a Renaissance painting.

  As her son stood before her, Mrs. Sofia smoothed down the collar of his shirt. Her arthritic hands caressed the fabric while his gaze rested on her face. She was smiling, looking back at him with pride. Mrs. Sofia let out a sigh. She looked at her son and her old heart swelled as she recalled the time that he was little.

  She wished she could sweep him into her arms again, hold him tight against her bosom and protect him forever from the dangers of the world. In reality, as her body aged and weakened over the years, his was being sculpted to perfection in terms of vigor. By now, things had come full circle. Now, she was the fragile one and Aris was the protector.

  To him, his mother embodied the absolute goodness in this world and he felt fortunate. As she always said, every mother raises an angel or a demon for the world with her love or her indifference. This is why it is the mothers that have the greatest power in the world. They can nurture life, but they can also destroy it completely.

  A single son who has known no love becomes a demon for the world, bringing pain and devastation, sometimes to millions of people, like a malevolent force that holds no respect for life. But Aris was not one of those sons. Mrs. Sofia had created an angel for the world. As she smoothed down his collar for far longer than was necessary, she felt herself swell inside again with pride for her feat.

  When Aris noticed Daphne and turned to look at her, his face lit up. Once again, she seemed ethereal in his eyes, detached somehow from this mundane world. Perhaps he had heard too many stories about fairies from his grandmother when he was small, but sometimes he amused himself with the thought that Daphne was a fairy, and she had escaped her world to visit our own. She looked so foreign to this world, far too innocent. He thought her beauty was so perfect that she might as well have fairy-like wings on her back. He wished that it were true because all he’d have to do then is steal her handkerchief, and she’d be forever his, according to the fairy tales he’d known as a boy.

  He offered her an easy smile as he entertained that thought again, in the safe haven of his infatuated mind. It wasn’t the first time he felt like that about a girl. He’d had his fair share of relationships by now, but somehow Daphne looked different from all the others. She was mysterious and elusive. So much so that he found himself careful around her, so as not to scare her away, as if she were a timid singing bird you wish to keep close so that you can hear their sweet song forever.

  Daphne smiled back at him as he approached her. Their eyes locked for a few seconds in an awkward silence before he engaged her in conversation. In his most polite voice, he asked her how her day had been so far.

  Mrs. Sofia took her broom from the corner and stood at a distance, a crooked smile playing on her lips as she watched them. From his previous visit, she had noticed a change in the manner of both the young girl and her son. They seemed to be the same as always at any other time except when they were together. The prospect of what the old lady could see at play before her gave her immense pleasure. They were talking about the weather, but the mundane topic of their discussion did not fool her.

  When two young people engage in small talk while losing themselves in each other’s eyes like that, they can perhaps fool each other but not the elderly, who may be watching them. Old people can see far more clearly because they know a secret: lips can lie, but the eyes tell the truth at all times. When the youngsters speak, they only hear what the other says and that takes their focus from what the eyes say which is the most important. Old people know that well, and so, ignore the talking and focus on the eyes. It saves time and it’s infallible.

  Mrs. Sofia didn’t intend to let either of them know what she could see. She was never one to interfere in the matter of other people’s hearts, and besides, it is no fun when you spoil it. There’s nothing more beautiful than watching two people at the prime of their youth, searching blindly each other’s heart, looking for love.

  ***

  Ksenia was sitting behind the reception desk filing paperwork after completing her chores for the day. In a few minutes she’d pick up Phevos from work, and they’d go straight to the back of the orchard together.

  “Ksenia, hi!” chirped Zoe as she entered Pallada.

  Ksenia’s face lit up and she rushed to her friend with open arms. “Zoe! What a lovely surprise! What are you doing here?”

  “Well, I was in Ermou Street shopping, so I thought I’d drop by and see you. I missed you!”

  “I missed you too, Zoe!” said Ksenia squeezing her in her arms. They hardly ever saw each other during the summer break although they phoned each other a lot.

  “Phew, let me put these bags down, they’re heavy!”

  “So, what did you get this time, my Parisian coquette?” teased Ksenia as she watched Zoe place on the floor five large shopping bags from various designer outlets.

  “Clothes and shoes!” said the girls in unison and burst out laughing.

  Zoe rolled her eyes. “What else?”

  “It’s so good to see you! I missed you a lot!”

  “Well, I keep asking you to visit me at home for coffee—”

  “I know, I know! But it’s been hectic in Pallada. I promise to come next week.” Ksenia’s real reason wasn’t only the increased influx of customers, but she couldn’t tell Zoe about her busy afternoons with Phevos at the back of the orchard.

  “Say, is Daphne here? Haven't seen her since your birthday.”

  “She’s not here but I’m sure she won't be long.” As if on cue, Daphne came in through the front door but she wasn’t alone. Aris was there with her. During their conversation earlier, he had suggested having coffee together. They’d walked around the lanes for a bit first, just taking in the bustle of Plaka. When they came across a quaint café by the Aerides monument, they’d felt drawn by its shady umbrellas and the discreet, background music. They’d spent a good hour there, chatting ceaselessly. By the time they returned to Pallada, both of them had managed to feel totally at ease with each other, as if they’d been friends forever. Ksenia was surprised when they walked in for she’d never seen Daphne looking so carefree before.

  Daphne was pleased to meet Zoe again, but when she introduced her to Aris, something unpleasant stirred inside her gut that made her wince with discomfort. She watched as Zoe batted her eyelids at him while shaking his hand, all pearly teeth and high cheekbones.

  Zoe was a woman she couldn’t compete with. Her mannerisms, her voice, her poise, they all spoke volumes about her self-confidence. Daphne chewed her lips as she watched Aris engage in a friendly conversation with the two other girls. Ksenia was teasing Zoe now, informing Aris about her fre
quent shopping sprees that were dictated by her Parisian genes. Daphne’s heart sank as Zoe’s laughter rose up in the air in high, carefree crescendos.

  Chapter 15

  Ksenia and Phevos looked at each other, their eyes enormous. It was peaceful in the twilight. The sealed door before them felt warm to the touch, having absorbed generous amounts of sunlight all day.

  The sky was a clear blue canvas that was darkening by the second as the moon shimmered through, punctual in its appointment to take over from the sun for the impending night. It was a windless evening; not a leaf stirred in the trees. Even the usually chatty wild pigeons had silenced themselves. It was almost like nature itself was holding its breath for the upcoming discovery.

  In the semi-darkness, the metallic door gleamed as if caressed by it. At long last, it was free from the tons of moist earth that had sentenced it to oblivion for years. It had turned rusty over time and its green color had been chipped away in many places. Despite its deterioration, in its midst, the large figure of a golden owl showed no signs of decay.

  The door had no handle and no lock on it. Phevos held a crow bar in his hand and as he tried to force the door open, Ksenia encouraged him to keep trying. When it proved futile, Phevos threw the crow bar to the ground and, together with Ksenia, they began to run their fingers along the edges of the door and its metallic frame in the rock.

  They looked for a lever or anything else unusual that might be a secret means to open it but found nothing of the sort. Ksenia’s hands were now feeling the embossed owl in the center. It looked like the emblem on the Greek one Euro coin that, in its turn, had been modeled after the ancient four Drachma coin.

  There was only one difference: the bird on the coin was standing while the one on the door was perched on an olive tree branch. Ksenia thought how beautiful the branch was, with its small, delicate figures of olives and leaves. She examined it carefully and gasped when she spotted a figure among them that seemed out of place. It was a crescent moon shape that was barely distinguishable in the thick foliage. Ksenia guessed it was not meant to be a leaf.