Calypso

Chapter Two

{A/N: If you are on a mobile device, you won't see the italics, making this difficult to understand. Italics indicate speaking.}

Calypso

I've been alone for many years.

How many, I am never for certain. Not one has blurred together with another. Every day is fresh in my mind, a stamp in my history of too many days. But I do not think I have counted them after the first hundred.

Not often do I have visitors. They have begun tending to steer away from the far reaches of my songs.

Never have I had a visitor here of his own will. Possibly one day. But I do not believe it will be soon. I've been cursed. For these hundreds, or even possibly thousands, of years, I have been cursed to have good men washed up on my shores, injured or ill. It is my duty to heal them. Once I have done so, however, Hermes always comes to take them away. Never have my companions stayed long enough to consume a tangible amount of time. That is my curse. To forever live alone.

Yes, I remember my companions well. What else is there to remember? My time living in Olympus, perhaps? Nay, that is too bitter and distant. The war in which I supported my father? No, that is much to cruel to remember why I am here.

Many of my companions are young, not yet of an age to be a sailor. Sixteen, seventeen years of age most are when they arrive. I know not how old they believe me, I have never asked. 

But, there. On the crests of waves, and drawing ever closer, is a ship. I wonder, briefly, what it is that draws them here. My songs, perhaps? Or is it the tides?

My voice continues to drift over their ship, I know. I can see them turning, searching for the lovely maiden with the lovely voice. Sadness washes over me as the waves over the stones on my shores. None will stay with me. That I know for certain.

I now hear them exclaiming to one another. Look! The woman there. How is this possible? How is she so...

Beautiful? Is that the word they use? I do not know, for it is then that I turn my ears from their words. I do not want to hear more praises for my beauty. It is tiring, hearing it. Those words. Look at her beauty. Look at the way her hair falls just so- Look at how she watches us! Men, she must be longing for us.

That is true. But not in the way they expect, not in the way they want. I long for company. I know myself too well, after these years. I know my isle even better.

Their voices break into my thoughts, command my attention. My lips curve in a welcoming smile, one I know they will not resist.

For now, their ship is perched on the sands. One jumps down from the bow and advances. I do not move, I do not waver. Any sign of weakness in these men's eyes will be just that- a woman's weakness. I will not cower, I will not fear. I am a goddess. It is they who should fear me, who should fear my beauty and what lies behind it.

Oi, lass! What say ye to comin' aboard me fine ship?

I refrain from frowning at his words. His suggestion is very suggestive. He surely cannot think-

Aye? What'll ye say? Another of their number asks. Their coarse words and bedraggled appearances are in such contrast to what I am used to, contrast greatly my own way of speaking. I do not know if I will answer, or if I shall turn away and reject them. However, they are company, and it is near impossible for me to decline that. These years have taken their toll on my ability to do so.

I give my thanks, however I shall request you and your fellow sailors retain your positions on my shores. Half of their ranks have departed the ship and now stand on my sands. The filth on their garments and skin is exceedingly obvious. Most are a fair sight older than I appear, older than most visitors to Ogygia are.