Scorched

by Jendela Tryst

  Her blue eyes watched the yellow streak that was Hermes, flying towards the troublesome boy-god known as Eros. Those two were up to something, she was certain of it. Normally, she wouldn’t bother herself with such lowly deities, but today, she was bored. Protesting was dull work. Normally, she would be busy making new shoots for the forest, or helping to fertilize the field of a deserving farmer. For the next several months, however, there would be none of this. Nothing was to grow until Demeter’s daughter, Persephone, stolen by Hades, the god of the Underworld, was returned.

  In a few months, when Persephone was due to come home, Demeter would renew the Earth once more, filling it with life, fruit, and grain. Until then, winter would claim many lives.

  Demeter turned and looked dully at the gnarled staff that lay on the fresh snow. It had been cut from an ancient, immortal tree, its branches covered with leaves and shooting new buds, immune to the chilly gales. At the top of the staff was an amber crystal made out of petrified tree sap. It was Demeter’s All-Seeing Eye, one of the most powerful in all of Olympus. It could see everything, and with some effort, could see thoughts. The best part was that the Eye could rarely be detected, even by the most sensitive of gods. She could watch without anyone noticing her.

  Most of the time, Demeter did not care to watch the gods. She found them tedious and foolish, bickering amongst themselves over paltry wrongdoings. True power lay in being able to wait and finding the subtle weaknesses in a single individual. Zeus may pretend he was unaffected by Demeter’s silent protest, but she knew it frustrated him. She tripled the work of every god in Olympus by not working these several months. All of them struggled to keep humans alive during these freezing, lifeless months. She hoped that even Hades, that cursed god of maggots and death, would be overcome with the number of new souls entering the Underworld. Not even he could enjoy any time with his stolen bride.

  Still, it was hard doing nothing. It was hard not to melt the frozen ground and help the shivering seeds beneath. Demeter needed a distraction.

  The goddess of grain and fertility picked up her staff and bade the smooth hardened sap to glow.

  “Show me Hermes,” she commanded, her voice cracked from disuse.

  Slowly, the amber crystal began to glow, and her staff gleamed like a torch on the frozen mountain.

  Chapter 13

  It wasn’t long before Hermes spied the god of love sitting alone on a rocky island. After a moment of hesitation, he flew towards Eros.

  “How is that pretty little wife of yours?” Hermes greeted lightly. “I envy you the sight of her every morning, my friend.”

  Eros stared unseeingly at the horizon, his oceanic blue eyes as tumultuous as the waves beneath. It was disturbing, seeing such sadness on the usually cheerful face.

  “Envy me not,” Eros murmured. “She is miserable. She hardly eats or sleeps from worry.”

  “I’m sorry to hear it.”

  “Are you?” Eros’s dull eyes flashed with fresh anger. “Are you really? Your unwelcome visit brought endless dangers, and yet you insisted on showing her that shield?”

  Hermes shrugged defensively. “She deserved to know the truth.”

  “Since when have you cared about the truth? You, the god of schemes and lies. There’s a reason Zeus chose you for such work.”

  “Because you were not yet born?” Hermes returned with ease. Eros’s eyes were dangerous. Hermes sobered. “I am hurt. I am hurt by your low regard for me, especially when I have nothing but admiration for you. Have I not always tried to help you? You may not have agreed with my methods, but they have always been founded on a deep and abiding affection for you.”

  “Affection? The only affection you feel is for yourself.” Eros looked helplessly to the water. “I was so close, Hermes. So close to getting her to…” Eros ran his fingers through his hair.

  “To what?” Hermes couldn’t keep the amusement from his voice. “To let you braid her hair?”

  “How dare you mock my pain? What is your plan now? Why don’t you just save yourself the trouble and just tell me?”

  Hermes let out a frustrated breath. “Eros, retract your claws. I am only trying to help. The two of you are destined for failure.”

  “So now, among your other legendary talents, you are also a prophet. By Zeus, it’s a miracle! Let’s retire the Fates!”

  Hermes refused to smile. “One does not need to be a prophet to see that the two of you are heading straight for destruction! This scheme cannot last. And you know full well that you cannot make her happy.”

  Eros turned away. “I was succeeding fine until you came along.”

  “I highly doubt that,” recognizing that Eros was weakening, Hermes plowed on. “Is she happy living alone in that huge palace? Never allowed to see her husband? To see anyone? She is human, Eros. Her mind is frail. She needs physical companions. She is not an animal you keep caged away.”

  “Not a cage!” Eros protested. “A shield. I am protecting her.”

  “From what, exactly? Aphrodite is no longer interested in her or her family. As long as you keep the emotional level to a minimum, no one will be aware of her return to Bromeia.”

  When Eros did not answer, only stared at the balking seagulls, Hermes cheated and searched Eros’s mind. What he found baffled him. “You are afraid.” He spoke without thinking. “What are you afraid of?”

  Eros moved away irritated. “Get out of my head, Hermes!”

  “I’m sorry,” the messenger god tried to sound genuine. “I was just so frustrated. But at least let me help you. What are you afraid of?”

  Eros began slowly. “What every man is afraid of. That I’ll never see her again. That she’ll never return to me. Her family will convince her to keep away.”

  “So little faith you have in her.”

  “Little faith— why would she return to me? She thinks I am some horrible monster out to devour her.”

  “I don’t believe that is what she thinks,” Hermes murmured wryly. “But you don’t make it easy for her when you won’t show yourself.”

  “You know I can’t. Someday, she will know me. But not yet. I will show her little by little. I want her to know the real me, the man beneath the god.”

  Hermes threw his hands in the air in frustration. “The real you? I can guess what she thinks is hiding in the dark. A sexless, dull, ugly beast that plays nothing but chess and reads all day, not exactly a truthful representation.”

  Eros stood up, deeply offended as well as horrified of the image Hermes was painting. “That’s not how she sees me. We have conversations. She is getting to know me at a level that you could never imagine. Unlike you, I do want someone who can see me. Someone who knows the real person. I want to hide nothing from her. In time, she will know me better than anyone else. And I her.”

  Hermes laughed derisively. Eros wondered how they could ever have been friends.

  “She willknowyou?” Eros flinched at Hermes’s blatant scorn. “She will knowyou?”

  Hermes’s laugh was dark and bitter. “She knows nothing! Eros, you are the god of love. A god! That mortal cannot imagine, let alone know anything about you. If she knew, she would run screaming from you. Your true form alone can make her go mad. And even if her puny mortal mind survives the assault, Aphrodite, her mother-in-law, can obliterate her with a blink. And I have not even mentioned Zeus who will have no qualms ripping her from your arms and tearing her apart to punish you for marrying a mortal. Or maybe he’ll just enjoy her for himself, for what is a mortal’s resistance to a power like Zeus? In addition, does Psyche know that even if she survives all this, she may someday grow with child, a mysterious demi-god child that might rip her mortal pelvis apart as we know not what form it will take? And, if miracle on top of miracle, she survives this and the child lives, Zeus might still punish you both for bringing an Immortal Creature into the Universe without his consent.”

  Eros was shaking his head, but Hermes continued. “But, alas, I am being too negative! I w
ill give you a taste of pure optimism. The happiest conclusion to your sorry tale. Behold, the girl is barren, and somehow manages to avoid all attempts at her life, and somehow, defying all odds, reaches a ripe old age. Eros, no matter what you do to protect her, no matter how hard you work, she will still grow gray and will die like all mortals do. You will be left alone for the rest of eternity. This is your fate. In the end, she must die, and you will be miserable and alone. One does not need to be a prophet to know this.”

  Eros had his hands on his head as if trying to block out Hermes. “Stop. Stop all of your words. You don’t think I’ve thought of all these things. I cannot resolve all of them now. I... I cannot...”

  His emotions were starting to resonate into Hermes’s bones and he immediately put his hand on Eros’s shoulder to calm him down. He shouldn’t have pushed the young god so far. He did not want anyone to notice their conversation and decide to listen in.

  “Steady, lad,” Hermes warned.

  Eros took a deep breath, bidding himself to stay calm, to not draw attention to himself. When Eros opened his eyes he asked, “Did anyone sense it?”

  Hermes closed his eyes, trying to read the vibrations of the world. Everything remained steady. No one seemed to be paying attention. “No. We are safe.”

  Eros cleared his throat. “It does not matter that she will grow old. It is not her beauty that I love.”

  Hermes shook his head and said gently, “What will you do when she dies, Eros?”

  “I shall follow her to the Underworld.”

  More blasphemy! Hermes rubbed his eyes. Is the hopeless boy even worth saving? “Fool! You will never be allowed to return.”

  “So be it.”

  Hermes sighed and kicked a rock into the ocean in frustration. “This problem goes beyond me. I believe we need to ask a wiser advisor.”

  “You mustn’t tell anyone! If you do, they will be the last words you utter!”

  Hermes quirked his eyebrow at the arrow that was suddenly in his nephew’s hand. He did not know which ones they were, the ones that incited love or hate, but from this angle they looked quite sharp. Hermes pushed the arrow firmly away. “Don’t worry. Poseidon is never curious about the details. He likes to look only at the whole. He is god of the oceans. His sense of justice can sometimes be cruel and brutal, but always his decisions are right.”

  Eros hesitated, but he knew Hermes was right. His problems were too big for him to solve on his own. Advice could not hurt.

  Eros nodded briefly, then moved away to give Hermes space to summon his powerful uncle.

  Hermes closed his eyes and focused on the deepest part of the ocean feeling for the recognition that only two deities can have between them. Soon, the waves took an unnatural direction. Far below, the foam formed the huge face of a snowy bearded man with surprisingly tranquil eyes.

  “Uncle Poseidon,” Hermes greeted warmly. “Thank you for coming. Eros and I need your help.”

  The bearded face smiled. “How can I be of service to my young friends?”

  Hermes explained the situation, withholding important names, referring to the man as Erik and the woman as Phoebe keeping only the meat of the story accurate. Poseidon listened with fatherly attentiveness, then gave a long, meditative pause. The seagulls continued their balking but the waves grew slightly more still.

  Hermes shifted impatiently. “So what advice would you give, wise uncle, for our hapless friend, Erik? He loves her, but he does not want to let her go.”

  Poseidon’s lips moved to a benign smile and the seagulls softened their bellows.

  “The way I see it,” the ancient god began, “true love should be much like the tides at your feet. I push them away time and time again, yet, they always keep returning to me. That is because the water is a part of me, and I am part of the water. We cannot exist without each other. Separation will always be temporary. To imagine life without the other is to imagine life without your lungs, without your stomach, without...”

  “Without your soul,” Eros finished.

  “Exactly,” the waves said warmly. “Your friend, Erik, needs to let his beloved Phoebe go before she can truly be his. Only when she returns, of her own free will, will she really be his to keep. Then, Erik will know that he is as much a part of her as she is of him.”

  “But her family,” Eros protested, “what if they convince her that she should not return? What if they infect her heart, somehow? She loves them so very much.”

  The water moved soothingly, stirring the seaweed that floated towards them, then away.

  “I’ve no doubt she does,” Poseidon responded. “But love is not felt with the mind. Love cannot be convinced or dissuaded. Love, if my memory serves me right, is felt. Perhaps, she will not return. But if so, then it was not meant to be. Eros, as the god of love, you must know this. These tests exist so we might know the truth of a person’s heart.”

  Eros bowed his head. “Thank you, Uncle, for your sage advice.”

  “Hardly, sage. I am but an old, over-glorified puddle. I do what I do over and over again. There is no trick to it, once one gets the basics. But you, Eros, you are charged with one of the most complicated of human emotions. Remember, emotion can be a fickle thing. It is inconsistent, moody, and unpredictable, much like the ocean. Sometimes, in order to have power over it, you just have to let it go. Good luck, my friends. Let me know how the story of Erik and Phoebe ends.”

  With that, the face melted back into the water and the waves returned to their violent thrashing.

  “I hope with no more tragedy,” Eros murmured to himself.

  Hermes gave him a hard pat on the shoulder, choosing not to respond, refusing to voice his doubts.

  Chapter 14

  Eros stayed away longer than usual that day. He knew Hermes and Poseidon were right. But, damn Hermes’s meddling! Eros couldn’t stop thinking of the image Hermes painted of him. Did Psyche really see him just as a sexless entity? Her protector, like a guardian dog?

  Psyche had loved Erik, that was certain. Erik, a man who was a lie. She had been willing to give up everything for that bedraggled miscreant, to run away with him, and risk being disowned and rejected by her family. She was ready to be poor forever.

  Could Psyche ever feel that way for Eros, the hopeless god of love? Before he could even ask the question, he had to give her up.

  Eros had brought Psyche to the palace, hoping to reveal himself slowly and make her fall in love with him the way she did with Erik. In time, he hoped that Psyche would be so used to her hidden husband’s presence and companionship that his body could have taken any form and she would still love him. Meanwhile, his mother would forget her vengeance, and Eros could try to convince Zeus to accept their marriage. Someday, Eros would tell Psyche who he was and make her understand why he hid, and why he lied. He could introduce her to his world and show everyone on Mt. Olympus that they were destined for each other. Yet, such a plan would take years to execute. Years of Psyche’s precious life, trapped in a gilded prison, with a husband she could not see.

  Yet, Eros saw no other way.

  That evening, Eros dined with his wife in uncomfortable silence. He was at the far end of the table, cloaked in darkness as always. He had surprised her with his presence during supper. She seemed pleased to hear him, but soon became withdrawn. Eros barely spoke. After a while, he suspected she had forgotten he was there, so deep she was in her thoughts. She looked thinner in a beautiful pale pink gown, her hair adorned with pink sapphires. Even tired and withdrawn as she was, he loved gazing at her.

  Perhaps, this would be the last time he would ever gaze at her.

  Eros cleared his throat, and she blinked as if suddenly remembering where she was.

  Eros began to speak. “I know you’ve been very unhappy ever since... Mercury came for a visit.”

  She smiled wanly. “I’m sorry, I’m afraid I’ve been terrible company recently. Perhaps, we can talk about something else. How was your day today?”

&nbs
p; Eros smiled affectionately, but knew she could not see its warmth. He tried to project it with his voice. “It was busy and long, and I missed you terribly.”

  She smiled at this, but again, he noticed that it did not quite reach her eyes.

  “You hardly touched your supper,” he pointed out.

  “Oh, I’m just not that hungry. But it is quite delicious.”

  Her mixture of sadness and valiant attempt at cheer was too much for Eros. He took a deep breath knowing that once he said the words, he would not be able to take them back. “I know you don’t want to be here. So tomorrow morning, Zephyr will take you back to your home.”

  Her face was a plethora of emotions. Again Eros wished he could read minds. “I don’t understand,” her voice was tentative. “Did I displease you in some way?”

  Eros blinked and did not speak for a while, so surprised was he by her response. “Displeased? How could you ever think that? I just thought you would be happy to visit your family, to see to your father, and make sure he is well. After a fortnight, you may return to the cliff where you first met Zephyr and you will be brought back here. To me.”

  The joy in her face slightly lessened the pain of losing her. He had not seen a smile in so long he had forgotten how transformative it was. He forced himself to continue. “There is one thing, however.”

  Psyche’s smile faltered slightly.

  Eros continued. “You cannot tell your family anything about this place. You must not reveal to them the magic or the miracles of this palace or the creatures of this island.”

  His wife blinked. “But, how do I explain?”

  “As best you can without telling the whole truth. You can even tell them that you have been sworn to secrecy. It is for your own safety… as well as mine.”

  Psyche considered this, then nodded. “I’ll not tell them anything, as long as I get to see my father again. I just want to show him I’m well and give him some sense of peace.”