Pherenike - Chapter 79

As the rosy fingertips of the dawn goddess Eos graced the horizon of Paetusa, a lioness sleeping under the prince’s bed suddenly opened her eyes.

Her keen gaze swept over the empty bed, and in doing so, a gray wolfhound that had been sleeping leaning against her body stirred awake.

Atalanta narrowed her eyes and called out to him.

[“Seirios.”]

[“What?”]

The wolfhound nudged the lioness’s neck with his nose as he asked back.

[“Deucalion is gone.”]

He asked and she answered. Though in truth, they belonged to different species and were never meant to understand each other fully.

[“Must be bathing. I hear water.”]

The wolfhound quickly guessed the lioness’s words and spoke regardless of whether she understood him. The lioness did the same. Their interaction was one-sided but still an exchange. That was their form of conversation.

[“Seirios.”]

Only the sound of their names was unmistakably clear to them. Each other’s names. Their master’s name. The melody’s repetition alone was clear.

Seirios perked up his ears at her call.

Despite hearing his name, Seirios flopped back down next to Atalanta, who then nudged his side with her golden paw. In response, Seirios whimpered as if he was a frail creature.

The wolfhounds of Paetusa, a mix between the giant wolves of the Amphion region and large sheepdogs, were larger and had slightly longer fur than the real wolves of Evdokia. Consequently, some male wolfhounds appeared as big as leopards.

And among these large wolfhounds, Seirios was particularly formidable, a leader among males.

In all of Paetusa, there might not have been a beast stronger than him. He was as big as Atalanta, the lioness, and more well-trained.

Yet, in front of Atalanta, he always pretended to be weak and pitiable, shamelessly acting as if the lioness could dominate him. How contemptuously his kind must have viewed their leader. Rolling around and showing his belly even after being covered in the blood of his prey, before Atalanta.

Atalanta, too, found his shamelessness equally repugnant. Like a cat preparing to pounce, she shifted her hips back, wiggling slightly before launching her large front paws onto Seirios’ back in a swift attack.

Pinned down by the lioness, Seirios let out a feigned pitiful cry. Atalanta, unbothered, bit down on his neck.

The thick neck of the wolfhound vibrated under her teeth, resembling what could be considered laughter among them. As the wolfhound struggled under the lioness, suddenly kicking and pushing her off with all four legs, he flipped Atalanta under him, shining his green eyes akin to their master’s.

Atalanta growled and swiped at his chin with her paw, to which he slightly tilted his head and smiled.

[“You hit without hurting.”]

If they truly intended to harm each other, neither would survive. They simply enjoyed testing their strength and play-fighting. Neither sought victory. Their skirmish continued for a while, just another leisurely moment shared until their eyes met as they often did.

Seirios finally released Atalanta after playfully biting her nape in retaliation. She gracefully shook her head and stood up.

[“Where are you going?”]

[“To check on Deucalion. Almost forgot about the prince because of you.”]

She responded as if it was a noble duty and crossed the room to Deucalion’s bedroom, leaving the most loyal wolfhound to carelessly lie back down.

Guarding Deucalion was a promise Atalanta had made to Pherenike long ago. Thus, she made it her business to periodically check on his whereabouts and condition.

Every time Apollo’s sun rose and set under the star-filled sky of Uranus*, whenever the world grew darkest, whenever he might wish to disappear beneath it.

Even if there was no way for her to convey all these duties to Pherenike. Indeed, some things were better left unknown to her. After all, their prince was occasionally a mess.

The lioness pushed the door open with her head and exited the room. Her majestic four paws silently traversed the hallway.

The route to the monarch’s grand bath was familiar to Atalanta. She and Seirios even bathed themselves and returned on their own sometimes. Not all wolfhounds or lions could do that.

As Seirios, who had slightly better hearing, had mentioned, Atalanta too began to hear the sound of water.

The ‘sound’ was almost akin to silence. Likely, the water surface was as even as a lake, and Deucalion sat submerged in its chilly depths, as if dead. He always seemed lifeless at night.

Atalanta, somewhat distracted, recalled a small lake in Paetusa where Deucalion had once taken her and Pherenike. Those were good times.

That day, Pherenike pointed to the reflection of a lioness in the water, attempting to explain for a long time to Atalanta how she, unlike Pherenike who was human, looked.

“Look, Atalanta. You’re the most beautiful lioness in the world.”

—

*Uranus: The son and husband of the earth goddess Gaia, one of the first deities and the god of the sky.