All The Evil Things

Glücklich

The earth stands in silence. The oracle stands before us, his eyes a pure shadow and his hand resting on a small child. His voice is weak and frail, but is filled with unmatched challenge, a strength is nestled within. His name is unknown to me, his face is also unfamiliar. Even as he moves broodingly into the sunlight.

His state is that of chaos. He projects it, like a poison. Filling the air around him with the stench of danger. He, this man of knowledge, seems to be only the downfall of nations and capitals.

And even in his blindness, his eyes find me, his eyes find my frame.

And even though he cannot preserve what shape a face makes, he makes one of fear, of complete petrification. He seems as though he is looking upon a ghost.

His words are falling empty, annoyed at my mothers ignorance. He states the Nereids are angry at my beauty, or at my mothers boast of it. He warns of a sea monster, created and trained by Poseidon himself, coming to bring this kingdom to the mediterranean. Coming to take me to the underworld, to Dante's Inferno.

My mind is blank, a void of feeling and emotion. It almost feels as if life has been taken from me. Like I'm not controlling myself, like I'm just watching it happen. In a stake of utter shock and panic.

Nothing changes here. There's no dramatic whaling as I'm dragged from the place, no kicking, spitting. I just allow the hands of man to lead me away.

My wrists are cold. My back is also cold. Freezing stone against bare skin, stripped of fabric. My body is open to the element of water. Ice laps at my feet, my toes turning blue. The scales of death can be seen in the blue sea as thunder shudders in the distance.

From here I can see the curve, the slither of the world. Pared with the hiss of the sea sloshing against the cut rocks along the sea's edge. I stand here stripped of clothes, my life lying before me, a gift of repentance laid before the God of Sea.

The ghost of an angel flies from Olympia. Swooping and gliding. Wading through murky clouds and diving into the mountains. Its direction is fixed.

That vile, skin splitting, blood curdling screech bellows out of this monster's mouth. It's a sound straight from the depths of the world below. Its head rears out of the waters, its head raising high, as if it were a head stuck through a pole.

The wind is sliced.

A pristine white sword slashes the air. This angel is the saviour. His body lean, muscles on his back. He seems, although, gentle. His face twisted in a warriors roar. The magnificent beast, a pegasus, beating its enormous wings.

His white sword stained red, the beast lands before me, bowing to let its master off its back,

"Are you ok?" He asks, his eyes fluttering from my body - my nude body - back to my face,

"Si." I mumble, my face stuck in shock,

"Io sono Perseus (I am Perseus)." His voice is soft, gentle and calm.

"Andromeda."

He helps me down from the rocks, then gives me clothes to cover. He asks me about how I ended upon a rock, and I tell him.

He saves me. Like it was planned. His swooping arm and noble bird ready to dive in. Me and Perseus remain together, even as the moon moves on and the tides change direction. We'll lay together in this rotted earth.