Apollo's Muse

Candice (Calliope) XVIIIi

* Pic is of Calliope

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A stately young woman dressed in a fine gown embroidered in gold, with long brown wavy hair and a small gold crown placed both her hands on the doorway. She had a tablet in her hand, and she seemed preoccupied. She called her sisters, and Candice watched as they followed her inside, her skirts swishing and sparkling as the gold threads caught the late afternoon sun.

"Calliope," Apollo said, her name lyrical on his tongue. "The Muse of Epic Poetry. She is the one who inspired Homer to record the Age of Heroes. Although," Apollo muttered under his breath, "He did embellish several accounts. Mortals..."

Candice watched as the other sisters followed her requests, and it was clear that she was the assertive one; the leader. Her demeanor was one of grace and power, and Candice saw the respect she garnered from her siblings as a sign of her wisdom. 

All of the sisters had an aura of love about them, and a divine power that almost glowed. Candice watched herself - Clio - helping the servants and cooks organize the meal in the kitchen. 

Not the snooty goddesses I imagined.

Perhaps we’re more real than we know.

One woman in particular seemed to be in charge of the domestic activities.

"Who is she?"

"She is Eupheme," Apollo replied. "A female spirit of good luck and praise. She's the nurse of the Muses."

They watched as the marble table was prepared with linens and silver dishes, and the goddesses reclined on plush chaises as they dined upon grapes, oilve breads, and soft white cheeses.

She realized they were slowly drifting further up, away from the monastery and high into the atmostphere.

"No!" She protested, watching the building dissapear from sight.

But Apollo had dissapeared into the thin air without a sound.

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