Pherenike - Chapter 25

Pherenike’s location which was currently on the outskirts of Lykke was unbeknownst even to the loyal guards of Calyce Mountain who were stationed outside her cave.

The cave of prophecy, inherited from the Kybellaune five generations ago, contained a small cliff inside. Scaling down this cliff led to a labyrinth-like path she had discovered as a child. It was when she first became a Sybylle and the owner of the cave.

The cave, whimsical like a daemon, often changed its pathways unpredictably. It wouldn’t show the way to anyone it didn’t favor, sometimes even preventing the return on the same path.

It took Pherenike a long time to appease and charm this capricious daemon. However, the end of the maze permitted by the daemon was always the same.

Ogygia, on the other side of the cave, was a small island in Evdokia. It was named after the island at the western edge of the world. Similar to Calypso island, it was located at the westernmost coast of Evdokia.

It wasn’t something Pherenike figured out on her own; her goddess had revealed the name to her. On Ogygia Island, Pherenike had everything prepared in advance: a mute boatman and a small boat, and on the opposite harbor, an obedient mare awaited her.

This was how she escaped Calyce Mountain and came here. Tomorrow, she would have to reverse the entire journey. It was a task she willingly did to meet him, and now she had to undertake to leave him.

Pherenike sat on the bed, hugging her knees. Beside her, Deucalion lay asleep. His broad back rising and falling with peaceful breaths. He seemingly didn’t dream anymore.

She reached out, gently smoothing his tousled silver hair away from his face. He looked as beautiful as a sleeping god.

Her hand traced over the shapes of his fiercely entwined muscles from his shoulder to his back, drawing a line down his straight spine like the Antehe River.

Sometimes, she saw these things – the simple evidence of life. Proof that Deucalion was alive. The rise and fall of his back and chest, the pulse in his neck, the jaw clenching in sleep, the breath scattering over her forehead, the entwining tongues, the noses brushing each other.

All these were confirmations of him being alive, as if in a dream. At the same time, it was a nightmare-like confirmation of her being alive as well.

Suddenly, Pherenike left his chamber as if she were fleeing. It almost felt like she was still dreaming inside a tomb, like a ghost clinging to a life without realizing it.

Still, she needed more reality to feel alive. She walked heavily across the courtyard as if she were wandering through a tumultuous dream, heading towards the end of the opposite corridor. She fumbled for the key at the unguarded door, unlocked it, and entered the room.

“Atalanta.”

That was the name she loved second only to Deucalion.

Under the sunlit window, a massive lioness, curled up like a lazy cat, opened her eyes.

Atalanta’s mother came from a distant land across the sea. Brought to pass through Lykke in an endless procession of spectacles, the mother was a small lion cub at that time.

Lions were among the glorious spoils of war brought by the young General Vassilios’ expeditionary forces to be presented to the king from the Karhama royal palace. Although the people of Evdokia revered lions as animals of the goddess Kybellar, they didn’t know much about them, as lions did not naturally inhabit their land.

Atalanta’s siblings, born in the court of King Karhama, were too young and died during the voyage to Evdokia. Her mother also died shortly after arriving in Evdokia.

So, she was somewhat fortunate to have survived, found a mate, and even gave birth. Her mate was her uncle. Although he was her uncle, he was born a year after her. He was the last offspring of the old lioness in their pride who became Atalanta’s grandmother. Born not in the wide fields of Karhama but in the small enclosures of Evdokia.

The males who led the pride changed over time through death and dominance, but the lioness usually remained constant. The old lioness had once led the largest pride in Karhama like a queen.

The mother and daughters, sisters and siblings, always remained loyal to each other. They hunted together, raised cubs together. They endured seasons without water together. They fought endless hunger together. They took in the cubs of their deceased sisters together.

In all these moments, the old lioness led the front. She was the first to leap in front of buffalo horns. She resisted being captured by the people of Karhama even when wounded by their spears.

Even after being presented to King Karhama and becoming an ornamental animal in the palace yard, she protected the body of her dead daughter to prevent her skin from being removed.

Across the sea, in the enclosures of King Evdokia. The old lioness, the queen of the pride, sought to live the same life wherever she was. Even without a pride to protect, she guarded something every day.

* Ogygia/Calypso: An island where the hero Odysseus from the Trojan War was stranded on his way home. The nymph or goddess of the island, Calypso, who lived there, was the daughter of Atlas. According to Homer’s Odyssey, she fell in love with Odysseus and kept him captive on Ogygia for seven years.