by Gene Stiles
Hyperion walked through the granite halls of the Great Pyramid ignorant of the flirtatious glances of the lovely women he passed and to which he would normally respond with at least a playful smile. His cluttered mind felt like a twisted ball of twine that must be unraveled to sort out the paths of its strings. He knew he should be assisting his brethren wherever he could instead of spending his time at the Wind Song, but the joy and gaiety of the atmosphere made him feel himself. The mask of happiness he painted on when he arrived became real by the end of the night. It was the only thing that kept his agony and confusion at bay.
It may be Cronus who frightened him, but it was his beloved, Rhea, for whom his heart ached. She was broken, shattered by the unholy, ghastly cruelty of her husband. Rivers of tears left deep scars upon her soft, sweet cheeks. Her full, pink lips no longer graced him with the warmth of her smile. Sparkling, sky-blue eyes that brought a golden light to all those around her now burned with tortured agony and seething hatred. A heart overflowing with love of Cronus, love of children and love of life now withered, black and poisonous, with the furious vengeance within her bosom.
It filled his heart with searing anguish to see her this way, but he would remain at her side as he always had. On his broad, square shoulders, she could always lay her weary head. His strong, solid arms would always offer a warm, comforting embrace. His lips would always whisper words of condolence and hope, but never utter the truths of love his soul yearned to share with her. He would always remain simply her friend.
The swish of Hyperion’s long, leaf-patterned, aquamarine robe trailed behind him as he hurriedly walked toward the Wind Song through the bustling streets of golden Atlantis, his long dancer’s legs eating up the short distance he had to travel. The cool of night was still many hours away and the huge wooden dancefloor would be empty of gyrating revelers. Happy, joyful music resounded through her halls, yet the stage did not contain the pulse-pounding rhythms of manic musicians. He waved a cheerful hello to his midday staff, anxious to reach his private quarters to divest himself of this clownish mask and gaudy costume in lieu of simple tan traveling leathers and a hooded, brown robe.
Outside the back door, Hyperion mounted a sled, travelled the back alleyways and left the city behind unnoticed. The brilliant glow of the bright yellow sun dripped its warming rays on the earth like the tears of a thousand maidens. The chirping songs of colorful birds flittering among thick bowels of green branches seemed ludicrous and callous. Fields of wildflowers swaying in the gentle breeze stank up his nostrils, bereft of their once sweet perfumes. How could there be any beauty left in the world when his love hid alone in such heartbreak?
Hyperion drew up to the hidden little wooden cabin nestled among the tall oaks where Rhea sat curled in her wide porch swing. As always, he brought her a fresh bouquet of flowers knowing she would leave them in a waterless vase to wither and die. She arose to meet him, a harsh but genuine smile upon her sensuous pinks lips.
“Hyperion! Welcome back.” Rhea walked out onto the cut green grass to meet him, thanking him for the flowers. “What news of the city? Have there been any new leads?”
She seldom visited Atlantis anymore and never attended another council meeting since Cronus ripped Poseidon from her sleeping grasp. The mere sight of her monstrous husband drove her into a madness that found her fingers gripping the butt of a pistol hidden beneath her robes made all the worse by the beatific smile he gifted upon her. Afterward, the piteous gazes of her brothers and sisters and their well-meaning words of support and condolence sent Rhea spiraling down into a deep, dark pit of despair from which only Hyperion’s kindnesses could save her.
“The golden city is dimmed by your absence, Lady,” Hyperion smiled brightly, purposely ignoring her questions, knowing he had nothing to offer. Well versed in the art of concealment, he kept his melancholy to himself, buried behind a shining shield of radiance and lightheartedness. “I do have a plan for us, however,” he added quickly, seeing the droop in her sky-blue eyes. “Help me unload our supplies. Serve me some green tea to rest my weary bones then we shall be on our way.”
“On our way?” she asked, carrying a box of foodstuffs into the cabin. “Where are we going?”
“To visit some old friends,” was all he would reply, a mischievous grin playing across his full lips. “It will do you good. I promise you.”
Home buzzed with excitement and rumor filling the stone city streets. Rare as it was to have any guests at all gracing her confines, the personages visiting the home of Haleah were well known to all. Curiosity, joy, pride and a touch of fear swept throughout the community. Hyperion was a legend. He stood with Morpheus and the Izon, defusing the standoff between Cronus, his Black Guard and the Aam who fought for the freedom of the Clan. His intervention prevented what could have been a deadly, bloody battle. The Lady Rhea worked behind the scenes, securing the aid of many of the Twelve and their support to free the Izon from the slavery of Atlantis. Why the two visited Home for the first time after all these years became a major source of discussion and debate.
“What a beautiful home you have, Haleah,” Hyperion said as he toured the house with Rhea. He stopped in the expansive living room, marveling at the paintings adorning the red grains of the cedar logs. His long, slender fingertips caressed the waterfalls cascading over a tree-filled landscape, admiring the incredibly lifelike artistry. The smile playing across his handsome features glowed with warmth and genuine praise.
“I love the woodgrains. The workmanship is astounding and gives a true sense of life,” he commented. “Much better than the cold granite of many of the buildings in Atlantis. You are to be commended.”
“Thank you, Hyperion,” Haleah replied, her arm cradled upon his burly forearm. “It has grown much since we first built it.”
“As has your family.” He swept his hand over the children crowded upon the dark brown leather couch before the huge fireplace. He could not help but laugh at their giggles and the animated whispers behind the hands they held before the mouths.
“They are a wonder, are they not?” Haleah’s lovely face radiated with a happiness he wished would return the countenance of his companion instead of the sorrow he saw written there. Her blue eyes sparkled like a starry night; her high cheeks blushed a light pink. She led her guests to the little girls squirming with anticipation, introducing Hyperion and Rhea to her little brood.
Rhea smiled kindly as she chatted with the children gathering around her as she sat upon a richly decorated, red brocade chair, but Haleah could see the pain curling behind her glittering blue eyes. When she handed Rhea the bundled baby, Valkyrie, the despair turned to silent tears as she traced the child’s rosy cheeks. After mere moments, she gave the child back to Haleah, excusing herself to find the bathroom. When she returned, face washed and her tense composure restore, Rhea moved her chair closer to the fire, attempting to distance herself from the girls.
Hyperion plopped himself in the middle of the sofa without a second’s hesitation spreading his tan, muscled arms across the back of the couch to encompass as many of the delighted children as he could. He chuckled joyously as they climbed into his lap, vying for positions on his long legs, the younger ones playing with his long, black, oiled curls, tugging on them as if they were springs upon his head. They assaulted him with an endless barrage of eager questions, which he attempted to answer as best he could. The two oldest girls, Adrasteia and Ida, sat on chairs they brought before him, pretending to be composed and proper, but he could see them vibrating with anticipation, hoping they could get their inquiries heard above the babble.
“What is this? Have I been replaced so easily?” Morpheus stepped through the front door grinning, his long ebony hair hanging wild and loose over his dark tan leathers.
“Father,” the girls shouted, rushing into his open arms. Only the two younger twins remained with Hyperion, still fascinated with his curly ringlets. Morpheus knelt on one knee, hugging all of them in one bunch.
“Hyperion, Rhea, welcome to our humble home,” he said, releasing his children to embrace his guests. “It has been far too long. I am gladdened that you found us, thanks, no doubt, to Tomilic.” Morpheus took a chair near the hearth, thanking Haleah for a hot cup of sweetened green tea. “What brings you so far from Atlantis?”
Haleah shooed away the girls to give the friends a chance to catch up uninterrupted. Adrasteia and Ida brought a tray of tea and pastries then faded into the background keeping their sisters occupied outside.
“It was time to visit old friend and see all you have wrought,” Hyperion replied, smiling happily. “I have to say, I am very impressed with what we have seen. I am sorry we waited so long to come here.”
“Life in the city has been challenging,” Rhea interjected, warming in the company of her friends. “Added to that is the fact we knew not where you were. I often wondered what became of all of you. It is wonderful you have built such a thriving community.”
“Thank you, Rhea,” Haleah said, cuddling in the crook of her husband’s arm. “We did not do it alone. The People and the Clan work together as one. They are the ones who deserve the credit. I fear Morpheus and I do nothing other than hunt, raise a garden and our girls. The Captains and Elders run the city.”
“And that is work enough,” Morpheus laughed. “My lady keeps me more than busy these days.”
“I can see that by the number of young ones you have,” Hyperion grinned slyly.
“Shame on you!” Haleah chided, punching his playfully. She caught the despondency in Rhea’s face from the corner of her eye and turned to take her hand. “I am sorry to hear of your difficulties. Is there anything we can do?”
“I must apologize, Haleah,” Rhea responded, her hands trembling, her head lowered. “I am ecstatic for you and Morpheus. You are blessed with an incredible family and a wonderful home. There is no doubt you have found peace and happiness. Sometimes, though, it is hard to see such bliss and to know what I have lost. Please forgive me my envy.”
“I am not sure about the peace part,” Morpheus replied with a chuckle, trying in vain to lighten the mood. “You have met my girls, correct?”
Over the next two hours, the friends exchanged stories of all that happened in the intervening years since they last spoke. Ida and Adrasteia slipped quietly into the house as they talked, bringing hot water for the tea and beginning preparations for the evening meal. They said little, but listened intently whenever the topic turned to the City of Gold, its growth and intrigues. They loved Home, their family and friends, but to see the glory of Atlantis and all of her People burned within their souls. One day, they promised each other as they lay beneath their blankets at night. One day they would see its wonder with their very own eyes.
After a tummy-warming meal of fresh venison steaks, red potatoes, mixed garden vegetables and hot, buttered bread, the girls cleared the table and cleaned the dishes while Haleah took Rhea for a stroll down to the water’s edge. Morpheus and Hyperion pulled up chairs on the covered front porch near the swing, staring out at the dark, starry night, listening to the delighted chattering coming from the kitchen.
“Thank you so much for your hospitality,” Hyperion said, a contented sigh escaping his full, pink lips. “It is so nice to be away from Atlantis for a while.”
“As much as I welcome having you here,” Morpheus relied, his hawk eyes piercing the veil of evening to watch the dim shapes of the women walking along the shoreline, “I fear a vacation is not the only reason you sought us out.” He saw the somber drop of his friend’s smile and asked, “What is it that troubles you so and how can we help?”
“You know me too well, my friend.” Hyperion let his emerald eyes sweep the diamond sparkles of ripples on the lake for a moment before answering. “It is the Lady Rhea. I am greatly concerned for her. Since Cronus bereaved her of her children, she sinks deeper and deeper into despair. I do not know which is the greater emotion, pain or rage, which now rules her heart. Her husband hid them well…that is if he did not kill them outright.”
“Kill them?” Morpheus stared open-mouthed. “Do you truly believe even Cronus capable of such a heinous act?”
“In reality, I know not,” Hyperion replied, shaking his great head, his eyes dropping to watch the intertwining of his long fingertips upon his lap. “You know firsthand how his sanity can be questioned. These days, his moods swing from the happy, buoyant young man we grew up with into the dark demon you last encountered on the high seas. And it can happen in the span of a heartbeat.”
“How does the council take to this?”
“They tend to ignore or appease him,” Hyperion said, spitting on the smooth planks of the deck, disgust thick in his voice. “Even stealing away his own children did not force them to question his rule. Of course, outrage followed his actions, but even that faded with time. His erratic nature is limited to the council chambers and his personal life. Since his breakdown after your escape, Cronus keeps his public face ever the Lord Father, Savior of the People and compassionate, just ruler.”
“Atlantis grows and prospers. Monetary systems are in place. Colonies and outposts are now great cities in their own right. Trade and commerce spans continents. People are happy, filled with vitality and hope for an even greater future. No one will oppose the man they hold responsible for such wealth of life.”
“However,” Hyperion continued sadly, “it is not the People or Atlantis that is my concern. Since Cronus tore her newborn, Poseidon, from her grasp, I fear Rhea has changed into someone bitter and hateful. I worry for her.”
“I cannot blame her,” Morpheus responded, his demeanor sullen and quiet. “If I did such to Haleah, there would be no place on this earth I would be safe to hide.”
“Nor do I,” Hyperion conceded. “Cronus is too strong and too well guarded for her to take direct action.”
“Whatever action she chooses to take,” Morpheus added, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder, “you can count on us to help in any way we can.”
“Thank you,” he said, a weak smile upon his lips. “At the moment, all I ask is you allow us to spend some time with our good friends. I believe being here with you will be good for her soul.”
“Of course! You can stay as long as you like. I know Haleah will welcome another woman in the house.”
“Again, thank you, my friend.”
“Always.”
Haleah walked along the waterline, kicking small pebbles with her feet, holding tightly to Rhea’s hand, boundless fury building in her heart. The cool evening breeze coming off the deep blue waters of the lake barely fanned her long blond hair with its gentle caress thus it could not dim the fires burning within her soul. A full moon cast its silver light upon the sand and stone at their feet making it easy for her bright blue eyes to see where she stepped even though compassionate, angry tears blurred her vision. The more Rhea spoke of the loss of her children at the hands of a man she once loved, the more Haleah wanted to hunt Cronus down and kill him herself. She thought of her own girls, by now slipping into their bedclothes, and could not imagine having them wrenched from her grasp. It would destroy her.
“For over ten years I have searched,” Rhea said, her voice ragged with sorrow. “Not a trace of them have I found. I fear they are lost forever, but I will never stop looking. Never. And now, Poseidon is gone. My heart can take no more.”
“I am so very sorry Tomilic did not find us in time.” Haleah squeezed Rhea’s slender hand. “Please forgive me.”
They found a gnarled old log laying on the shore and sat staring at the inky, black waters and the endless blanket of stars above their heads.
“You need no forgiveness.” Rhea slipped her feet out of her thin-soled sandals, running her toes through the still warm sand. “I should have sought you out much sooner.”
“What will you do now?” Haleah asked, cupping her friend’s hand between her own. “And is there any way I can help?”
“In truth,” Rhea replied, her
quivering voice strengthening as she spoke, “you are helping by just listening to me. Hyperion, bless the Creator for his friendship, is the only person I can talk to. My female friends will let me vent, but I can see their discomfort as they think of their own children and I admit it is difficult for me to be around them. It makes me miss my babies all the more.”
“I am sorry if my girls make things burdensome for you. Would you like to have a separate cabin for you and Hyperion?”
“You are kind, but no.” Rhea shook her head, her honey-blond hair falling over her forest green dress and the full rise of her bosom. “We are here to visit with you and Morpheus. It is nice to be away from Atlantis and all the intrigues and memories those streets awaken in me. I would like to stay awhile if you do not mind.”
“As long as you wish,” Haleah responded, leaning her head on Rhea’s gently sloped shoulder. “You are always welcome here.”
“What of the Nillian People?” Inopos queried, his red curly locks held from his squared face by a wide, richly tooled, black headband.
He stood straight-backed before the huge gathering in the Main House, his heels snapped firmly together. His knee-high, ebony boots glistened with polished luster, his dark brown breeches crisp and stretched tightly over his long, powerfully muscled legs. His black cotton shirt fought to contain his barrel chest, creased, with nary a wrinkle. Every bit the well-disciplined Aam, his sharp mind heeded every word and nuance, his emerald eyes noting the slightest twitch of body language.
“We hear there is a war brewing there.”
“You hear correctly,” Hyperion responded, sitting next to Rhea at a large oak table placed against one wall of the expansive but packed room. It appeared every adult of Home crowded inside, hoping to hear news of the world outside Home. “They have stopped shipments of goods to Atlantis and taken Captain Ramathus and several others hostage. Cronus has yet to decide what to do. It appears they have formidable weapons we were unaware of and they threaten to use them if we attack.”
