Perspective Swap

Circe (4)

Despite the incident with the Menoites men, a fragile peace settled on Aeaea. The nymphs, forever wary of outsiders, remained cautious while Circe grappled with a newfound awareness of the darker aspects of the world beyond her island. Yet, the shared experience had strengthened their bond.

Days turned into weeks, the shared meals and laughter a testament to their newfound closeness. One afternoon, a frantic Celaeno burst into Circe's hut, breathless and wide-eyed. "They've returned," she gasped, "the Menoites men!"

Circe's heart hammered against her ribs. "But I sent them away!"

"They say they come in peace this time," Celaeno panted. "They bring gifts and an offer of trade."

Uncertainty clouded Circe's mind. Could it be genuine? Or was this another attempt at dominance, veiled in pleasantries? The nymphs, though wary, were swayed by the enticing prospect of new fabrics and trinkets. Against her better judgment, Circe agreed to meet them on the beach.

There, under the noonday sun, stood the Menoites men, their hardened faces now adorned with hesitant smiles. The leader, the red-haired one, approached with a sack slung over his shoulder.

"We come in peace, daughter of the sun," he said, his voice gruff but respectful. "We bring gifts, as a token of apology and a start to a new friendship."

He untied the sack, revealing a dazzling array of necklaces woven from glistening seashells, brightly colored feathers, and polished stones. The nymphs gasped, their eyes wide with wonder.

Circe couldn't deny the beauty of the gifts. But a flicker of doubt remained. She scanned the men's faces, searching for any hint of deceit. They seemed genuine, their postures relaxed, their eyes holding a glimmer of hope.

With a sigh, Circe decided to trust her instincts. She accepted the gifts, a small smile playing on her lips. The nymphs, overcome with delight, crowded around the men, bartering for trinkets and sharing stories.

Circe watched the scene unfold, a sense of unease gnawing at her. It was too good to be true. As the sun began its descent, casting long shadows across the beach, the leader approached her again.

"We have another gift for you," he said, holding out a small, ornate flask. "This wine hails from a distant land. It is said to be a drink of the gods, granting strength and immortality."

A primal fear coiled in Circe's gut. The very notion of a potion granting godlike power set off alarm bells. "I do not partake in such... exotic concoctions," she said, her voice strained.

The leader's smile faltered. "But surely, daughter of the sun, a taste wouldn't hurt?"

Circe knew she had to refuse. But the nymphs, already captivated by the trinkets, now crowded around, their faces aglow with anticipation.

"Let us share a toast!" Daphne exclaimed, taking the flask from the leader's hand. "To new beginnings!"

Circe couldn't stop her. In a flash, Daphne uncorked the flask and offered it to the nymphs, each giggling as they took a sip of the shimmering liquid. A wave of nausea washed over Circe, followed by a chilling realization.

The potion. It wasn't a gift. It was a trap.

As the last drops of wine disappeared down the throat of the youngest nymph, a horrifying transformation began. Daphne's playful smile morphed into a snort, her limbs shrinking, her fingers turning into stumpy hooves. A terrified squeal ripped from her throat, quickly replaced by a loud grunt. In mere seconds, Daphne stood no longer as a beautiful nymph, but as a plump, bewildered pig.

The rest of the nymphs underwent the same horrific transformation. Tears welled up in Circe's eyes as she watched her friends, their laughter replaced by helpless oinks, their pleas for help drowned out by animalistic grunts.

A cold fury replaced her fear. The Menoites men, their faces now twisted with cruel amusement, watched the spectacle unfold. The leader barked a laugh, a sound devoid of humanity.

"This is your punishment, daughter of the sun," he jeered. "For daring to claim dominion over these lands!"

But Circe wouldn't let her anger cloud her judgment. With a surge of raw power, the fury of betrayal coursing through her veins, she unleashed a wave of magic unlike anything seen before. The sand beneath her feet trembled, the air crackled with energy. As she spoke the ancient incantation, her voice echoing across the beach, the Menoites men were seized by an invisible force.

Then, they began to transform.

...into pigs.