Pherenike - Chapter 24

The owner of the name suddenly laughed.

“Pherenike.”

“Yes?”

“Do you love me?”

“I love you.”

Pherenike spoke of love and erased everything of his. She went to Actor Nikandros.

In the future, she would do all that he had dreamed of doing with her, with Actor.

For him.

Her love was profoundly noble, but now his love was nothing more than a leash for a dog, worthless. His master had tied him up and left in haste.

He could only watch that detestable scene, helplessly bound.

Deucalion, having just climaxed deep inside her, gently lowered her head and kissed her trembling body at its peak.

His eyes, though dimmed, captured her with love.

During the nine nights on the outskirts of the royal capital, Pherenike’s ‘name’ was at the Calyce Mountain’s sanctuary, in the cave of prophecy where no one dared enter until she chose to emerge.

For hundreds of days, the goddess hadn’t given a single oracle to Evdokia.

It was a drought of voices. Just as kings pray for rain during a drought, during god’s silence, sanctuaries always begged for a speck of god’s attention.

Kybellaune and the Sybylles sought one word from the goddess.

Kybellaune was like a daughter to the goddess Kybellar, while Sybylles were her most special servants. Kybellar loved men but always spoke her precious words through women.

[As beautiful men are to be taken, beautiful women are to be spoken to]

As written in an ancient Sybylle’s prophecy.

Even the most embarrassing words the servants couldn’t bear to speak anywhere else were no exception.

Pherenike occasionally heard the goddess’s voice during this drought. All in all, it was usually inconsequential and better left unremembered.

Her nominal teacher, the old Kybellaune, also claimed to hear it sometimes, though no one else did.

The drought wasn’t real. The goddess wasn’t angry, just indifferent, not thinking of them.

Perhaps God’s indifference signified a brief period of world peace. But some couldn’t bear peace.

Sanctuaries were built on human unease. Amidst those uncertainties, they sell visible miracles and audible words to buy human faith.

Even their own faith.

Apart from Pherenike and her old teacher, the Sybylles were anxious about the prolonged god’s silence. The priests worried about what might anger god.

The high priest declared a ‘drought of voices’, ordering the sanctuary doors half-open until the Kybellar abated her anger.

In fact, God’s voice was everywhere and nowhere. If God wished to speak, God would; if not, nothing they did would matter.

Yet, as the countless prophets in name who died in the caves of Calyce represent, people couldn’t endure uncertainty.

They had to do something however meaningless, rather than having to wait quietly. And they believed that someone must enter the most isolated place in the world, listening only for the goddess’s voice.

Effort, like miracles, needed to be visible. Even if those efforts were futile.

Thus, during the drought of voices, the Sybylles took turns fulfilling their visible duties for 18 days, known as ‘Sybylle’s 18 Days’.

This duty involved climbing the rugged Calyce Mountain without carts or horses, using only a woman’s frail legs, and entering their respective deep caves.

The strict obligation of the Sybylle eventually came to the oldest Kybellaune, who, as she knew herself, was nearing death.

It was only natural for Pherenike, soon to succeed her, to undertake this harsh duty. It was a humble act, as the former was a man-made fake, while the latter was divinely ordained.

Originally, Pherenike wasn’t entirely bound by such duties of the sanctuary. Human laws couldn’t negate the goddess’ selection.

Even if she was called a Sybylle, she was never like the other Sybylles. She would be entirely different even as a future Kybellaune than her predecessor.

In fact, as soon as she assumed the name of Kybellaune, she left the land of Evdokia without anyone’s permission.

But for now, her name wasn’t hers yet. Her freedom was still borrowed.

Ten days before, Pherenike climbed Calyce Mountain to replace the old Kybellaune, entering the cave of prophecy. At least, that’s what was ‘known.’ It was somewhat true.

It wasn’t so sudden, as she had been present in the sanctuary even before. Even amidst the uproar across the country that the second prince who grew up like a brother with her had rebelled against his ailing father, and his impending retribution.

Sybylles differed from the male priests; they rarely involved themselves in worldly affairs.

However, the Sybylle’s 18 Days had always been a sacred ritual. Pherenike thought it better to leave the faithful old people to be deceived rather than trouble them with the burden of secrecy.