Pherenike - Chapter 27

Atalanta’s father, born and never having left the enclosure in the garden of King Evdokia, knew nothing of what his mate understood.

To him, the yard they shared was everything. Ever since she had licked his bleeding belly when he was a small and insignificant cub.

Ever since she gently carried him by the scruff of his neck and placed him to the softest and warmest spot she knew, lying beside him all day, watching over him.

She was his everything.

The male lion roamed the entire royal garden. He did everything within his power.

He thought he had searched the entire world, but his lioness was nowhere to be found.

He knew nothing of the world beyond his own, but he knew of death.

What cannot be seen is dead.

His lioness was dead.

With this realization, his anger dissipated. Despair filled the void. Atalanta’s father no longer sought his mate who was no longer in his world.

He believed that it was right to kill the two-legged creatures who had taken her.

They must have killed her.

When he was about to attack another hapless gardener, Actor’s arrow precisely pierced his right eye. The prince’s intervention replaced the royal guards who dared not harm the king’s cherished creature.

The male lion died from the prince’s arrow. The king, upon hearing of the death of his beloved lion who was once called the third prince in the royal palace, praised his young eldest son’s decisive action to save a nameless slave by killing the precious beast.

It’s okay. The lion will come again.

Indeed, as the king said, a young male lion arrived from Karhama soon after. The lioness, rejected by Atalanta’s father, found a mate in him.

The place where Atalanta’s parents once lived happily found new occupants, as if nothing had changed. The sun rose and set again over their eyes. They were younger and stronger. Perhaps they appeared even more beautiful. Just as in nature, where a blooming flower is more beautiful than a wilting one. As is the providence of all things.

As for Atalanta’s mother, unlike the foolish male, she lived quite well for some time.

Like a lioness on the plains of Karhama, she began to single out the weaker cubs. In the king’s garden, she had always been a caring mother, cradling even the weakest as there was plenty in the safe enclosure. She mourned their deaths with tearful licks of the baby’s body and sounds of crying.

The same was true in the yard of the Vassilios family. The enclosure was spacious, food and water were plentiful, but her mate was not there.

In this new enclosure without her partner, she safely gave birth to four cubs, all healthy except one that opened its eyes late and another that was unusually small.

She denied them her milk. If they crawled to suckle, she would only take the healthier cubs and move away from the weaker ones, always distancing them.

Before long, one of the two cubs abandoned by Atalanta’s mother starved to death. Only one remained – that was Atalanta.

Her mother, irritated by the persistently surviving cub, decided to quickly end its life. As once the old lioness had done to her last litter. When Atalanta’s mother bit into her, she meant to finish her off.

Life was hard even for the strong; those not strong simply didn’t need to live.

But just as Atalanta’s father had survived his mother’s deadly bite, so did Atalanta.

It was when Pherenike, who was nine years old, first heard the lion’s voice.

[“I want to live.”]

The first words were crystal clear in her mind. After that, they sounded like a foreign language that was familiar but incomprehensible. She understood that it was similar to God’s language, just slightly different.

Drawn by the voice, she went to the cage of her father’s lion enclosure. Then, she secretly climbed the fence.

It was night, and no one was around. In the darkness, Atalanta’s mother saw her. The lioness still did not dislike humans. She did not harm the small human child even if she could do so easily.

Pherenike cautiously spoke to the lioness, borrowing God’s language. Addressing the eyes glowing in the dark.

[“Was it your voice?”]

The lioness didn’t understand her words, but seemed to recognize some sound in her mind and narrowed her eyes.

[“I came here because I heard a voice.”]

But no response came. The lioness quietly turned away and walked off.

[“Here…”]

At that moment, Pherenike realized the voice was not from the lioness.

Turning her head, she heard the sound of a small animal groaning. She let a small light shine at her fingertips.

In a distant corner, something was rustling.

[“….You called me.”]

Incomprehensible words desperately flooded her mind.

Half of the small body was drenched in blood from the large bite. Pherenike quickly covered the young lioness’s body that was rapidly heaving with her palm.