Enypnia

Arxiphos escaped the village and walked alone in the woods. He passed along through the valleys looking for a place to think, perhaps a place to pray. Why did he not accept? Deliberation was torture. He heard a light gurgle of water as he paced. Soon he was looking into the river. It oxbowed around the town, providing both defense and resources. He had never been to this part however. The rituals were performed in the north, the fishing and shipping in the west. In the south, however... this was new to him.

He gazed down into the clear waters of the Apista. If only life were this clear. If only time was this slow, smooth and gentle. Life was muddied. Time untamable. Why didn't he accept?

He stooped and kneeled on the pebbly bank, lowering his hand slowly into the cool waters. The sun shone gold through the bright leaves and shimmered through his fingers as the water was disturbed by his human touch. He rested his elbows on his knees and drew the water to his face, half drinking, half spreading the reviving waters over himself from his chin into his hair. He blinked and let the droplets fall off his cheeks and nose into to river.

"Arxiphos?"

The voice startled him and he fell partway into the water, soaking the front of his shirt and cloak. He caught himself against the riverbed and stood up, dripping, his hands covered in cold mud. He rubbed his hands clean in the river and wiped the water off his face.

"Who's there?" he demanded.

"It is you," she said, laughing. She pulled back her dark hood. What color it was exactly was impossible to tell, some shade of... dark. The first thing he noticed was the electric green of her eyes. They bored into him and the beauty of the forest disappeared, swallowed into her gaze. Perfect features surrounded the ocular flame. Bright. Young. Earnest. He stood in awe. Stunned. Dazed.

"What's the matter?" she asked. She smiled, shook her head playfully and stepped down onto the level bank. The pebbles shifted under her bare feet. "What's wrong?" she spoke again. Her voice rung in his ears.

He wished he could remember her. He strained to put a name to that face. A name to a face he had never seen before. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. She raised her eyebrows in expectation and tucked stray black locks behind her ear. Nothing came. What was he supposed to say? Who was she? That was it! That was the phrase!

"Who are you?" he choked.

She frowned. Perhaps it was the wrong phrase. He watched her eyes narrow as she thought. She glanced down, glanced to the river, then looked back up. "You don't know me?"

"I might," he said. His voice sounded weak when it followed hers, a voice as clear and smooth as the river itself.

"You don't," she said. "I thought of all people, you might know me."

"Tell me your name. I'll remember."

"Enypnia." She shrugged as if it were obvious. She shrugged as if to say, I've known you for years and now you pretend like you've never even heard of me.

The forest stood still at the sound of that name. It was as if all the sound and energy of the forest had been absorbed by its utterance. Then, from that same word, life flowed out and filled the wood with light. The stream sang and danced. Trees waved. Birds sang, and she smiled. All of it was in her smile.

He tried to stay composed. Closing his jaw that hung slack. He did know her. Or at least he knew of her.

"Arxiphos?" she called to him again as if trying to recall him from some distant land. She cocked her head sideways and waved her hand before his face.

"I'm here. I'm here," he said, breathing again. "How do you know me?"

"You don't stop with the harsh questions, do you?" she laughed. "Are you telling me it was all fake?"

"What was fake?" he asked.

"You've prayed to me every day since you were a child, Arxiphos." She frowned again, looking concerned, confused. "Your father taught you. He was my priest."

"Of course I remember, it's just..."

"You offered me incense just this morning. Every morning."

"That's different than... this."

"Why?"

"That was an idol."

"But I was there."

"How was I supposed to know that?"

"You doubted."

"Not necessarily."

"You did." She chewed on the inside of her lip. "I could tell by the look in your eyes. There were few times that you spoke from the heart. And those few times, what did you think I was? A force?" She grabbed him hard by the shoulders. He felt a wave of power pass through him as she touched him and looked up into his eyes. "I'm a person."

"You're a goddess," he said slowly. "That's why it's different. You can't expect us to understand you if we can't see you."

"Because you're weak?" she asked.

"Because we're human."

"But I've shown myself to your human eyes." She shook him gently. "I've tried for so long to please you. Was the gentle rain, caressing sun, singing birds, soothing breeze, bleeding dusk, tender dawn, all of this, all of it not enough for you? You don't know me. Why? Because you pin your eyes shut." She released him. As she stepped back the forest lost part of its luster. Her power faded from him. Dull browns and muffled rustling of leaves replaced the emeralds and sapphires that danced before his eyes, the chiming song that played in his ear.

He felt his heartbeat in his chest. He liked her. Something about her made him feel alive. She was the source of all he had known as life and beauty. His eyes were opened. His mouth was shut.

"So? What's your next excuse? Give me another painful question?" She didn't smile this time. Her hands rested on her hips.

He reflected for a moment "I don't know you," he replied. "I'm sorry."

She smiled gradually. She cocked her head again. Chewed the inside of her lip again. It was the right phrase. She replaced her hands on his shoulders. The light of the forest returned. He froze. She laughed out loud and hugged herself against his breast, fitting her arms around his neck. He felt his heart fill with air, with liquid gold. He thought it might burst.

"I've watched you grow up," she spoke into his ear. "I've always loved you. Will you do me a favor?"

"Anything," he said.

"Be my priest."

He didn't answer immediately. She let go of him and leaned back, looking into his eyes. Piercing him with her own. Emeralds. Lightning. He thought.

She whispered it again. "Be my priest, the Archiereios."

He pursed his lips.

"Apxiphos, be my priest." Her smile fell.

"I'll have to marry Alazoneia." He said.

"Don't," was her reply. "Will you do me another favor?" she asked before he could object.

He sighed impatiently. "Of course."

"Be mine." She said. "Do you like me?"

"Very much."

"Do you love me?"

Arxiphos swallowed. "I hope so."

"A cautious answer."

He laughed softly and looked down.

"But do you?" she insisted.

"I want to say yes. But I wouldn't dare grasp for it."

"I'd allow it."

He looked up at her and caught her glance.

"But, before you commit," she said, "you'll have to know that I'm very different from the other gods and goddesses. Very different from the Potamides. I want your heart."

He clutched at his chest, eyes widened.

"No! Not your physical heart. That's just it. What I meant is that I want you, all of you. You will be exclusively mine and I will be totally yours..." She paused and shifted the pebbles with her feet. "But it will not be a physical love. We will be chaste, belonging to the soul of the other. Our hearts will be one."

He tried his best to wrap his mind around the proposal, watching her eyes as she waited for his response.

"Why?"

Enypnia looked down at her delicate hands and rubbed them together slowly. "You are shameless, aren't you?" she said. "I am a goddess."

"And?"

"You see this?" She tugged her hood over her shoulder. "I can only come to you cloaked in darkness. In all humility..." She stifled a laugh. "Sorry. It sounds hopelessly vain to put it this way. My beauty is too much for you. You simply wouldn't be able to handle it."

"Why not cloak it enough for me to handle? Even your hidden beauty outshines the most precious of mortals."

"I won't have you content with part of me," she snapped. "I would rather you long for all of me. That's what I want to give you. I long to give it to you." She looked up from her hands. "But you'll have to wait for it."

"How long?"

"Long. You will grow old. But I'll give your heart eternal youth. I'll be with you until your knees no longer support your weight. I will be there to accompany you in your aches and pains. I will hold your bony, weathered hands in mine. Support your quivering body. Hear your endless complaints. Kiss the wrinkled lips that hide your rotting teeth. And as you age and shrivel, I will see your heart. A heart that is simple, honest, young and fresh. The heart I have always loved. And when you leave behind this mortal frame, watch it burn to dust and dissolve into the Apista, then you'll be ready to receive all my love."

He nodded slowly, trying to take it all in, watching the steady flow of the river and imagining his ashes settling in its bed, joining the ashes of his father and all the priests before him. "It's poetic to say the least," he said.

"We'll spend this life burning for each other. Our hearts will stretch and break. And then—"

"I accept," he interrupted.

She stared at him, her mouth still open in the pronunciation of her last syllable. Then her expression softened. Her lips closed slowly. He had expected an explosion. Overjoyed. Giddy. Instead, she looked serious. She took her time.

"That was easier than I thought," she mumbled to herself. She looked at him, continuing to stare. A glistening of tears reflected in her viridian eyes. Then she smiled. That smile meant the world to him. It was deeper, a million times more satisfying, than a scream or uncontrolled dance for joy. Something he would have expected from the frivolous and superficial. Something he would have expected from Alazoneia.

She stepped toward him, keeping her eyes on his, looking up into his face when she drew close. Then she turned her head and rested it on his shoulder. Arxiphos felt stiff and unsure, but gathered all the strength that was in him and wrapped his arms gently around her, returning her affection as he thought fit. She didn't object. He watched her. Eyes closed. Breathing softly. She was his peace, life and beauty. He soaked in the moment, safe, sure, and decided.

"Go," she whispered. "Be my priest. And in that very act, you will be my spouse, recognized by Olympus itself."

"And when I object to marrying the princess, what will I tell them? How can I explain this to them?"

"They won't believe you?" she asked.

"Of course not," he said. "Others have claimed to have seen you before. Tetheia, the old woman who lives by the butcher. No one believed her."

"Oh yes, I remember that." She sparkled with amusement as if recalling a fond memory. "But she never did see me. It was fake."

"She described you well. Enormous creature. Course, charcoal skin. Red, sunken eyes, almost bleeding. Scantily draped in rotting strips of black sea-weed." Arxiphos watched for her reaction.

"Did you believe her?" she asked, shivering slightly and pulling her cloak tighter around her shoulders.

"Not for a second."

"Good. I'm not like that."

"Not at all." He rested his chin on top of her head.

She sighed. "Go and be my priest. Renounce the princess. I'll take care of any complications."

He remained silent.

"Do you trust me?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Then go already!" she laughed and pushed him on his way.