One hundred and eighty-seven long, haunting olive harvests had passed[1] since the night the Poseidon's Fury met its gruesome end, taking its ill-fated crews and unspeakable horrors down to the depths of the ocean. But for the superstitious people of Thebes, the chilling demise of the ship had never faded from memory.
Most residents spoke of the Fury's fate in hushed whispers, afraid to invite its ghostly, cursed luck. However, during the depths of winter, when storms battered the coast, elderly women would gather by lamplight to recount the gruesome details in hushed, haunted tones. These tales were disturbing enough to trouble children's nightmares for weeks.
Over time, the cursed legacy of the Fury grew darker as fact became entwined with myth. Despite this, its malignant presence was still felt - a warning against delving too deeply into the mysteries that were better left undisturbed.
As the winter winds howled and elders told tales of terror by the fireside, one person burned with determination to uncover the truth. Themistonoe walked the streets of Thebes with a glimmer in her eye and scrolls tucked under her arm. Despite the fears of curses and misfortune, she knew that mysteries were meant to be solved.
"I will solve the riddle of the Poseidon's Fury," she declared to anyone who questioned her quest. "I was born to unravel secrets that have been undisturbed for ages. What frightens others only fuels my passion to know."
Once a girl who had been raised in luxury, Themistonoe now braved the elements, guided solely by her instincts and intellect. She came into the world in a lavish villa on the outskirts of Thebes, another accomplishment for her influential family. As the youngest child of Echecratides and Helikonis, she was born into wealth and prestige.
Her father, Echecratides, had built an empire through smart business dealings, with his caravans stretching far across the Greek world. Land and wealth poured into the family's coffers with each passing season.
Despite being a man of commerce, Echecratides carried himself with the grace of nobility. His ancestors had ruled small city-states prior to the rise of more powerful forces, and he held great pride in their political lineage.
Themistonoe's mother, Helikonis, descended from a long line of priests and priestesses devoted to the ancient ways. Even in her youth, Helikonis exuded a calm solemnity, as if the rituals and secrets of the gods flowed through her veins. She maintained traditions at Thebes' holiest sites and taught her daughters the mystical rites that gave meaning to each phase of life.
From a very young age, Themistonoe wanted more than what her family's villa could provide. Slaves took care of her and made sure she was always well-dressed and adorned. She had tutors who taught her various subjects in the morning, and she would play in the villa's gardens in the afternoon.
The villa had beautiful gardens with flowers from different places, and some fountains brought a sense of peace. However, she was confined within the walls of the villa, as her father's fields and vineyards lay outside.
Among the slaves, Themistonoe had a close relationship with Aspasia of Plataea. Aspasia would watch over her and tell her stories during the summer nights when her parents were busy.
On this particular evening, Themistonoe snuggled up in Aspasia's cosy lap by the lamplight, wearing a soft cotton nightgown. Outside, a cool autumn breeze gently swayed the olive trees, their bare branches creating shadows against the moonlit sky.
"Tell me a story, Aspasia!" Themistonoe begged as Aspasia lovingly brushed her long, black curls. With a smile, the servant paused, carefully considering which tale would bring joy to her young charge.
"Have I ever told you about the mysterious destiny of Poseidon's Fury?" Aspasia began, her voice quiet. Themistonoe shook her head eagerly, her wide eyes fixed on the servant's face.
Aspasia began to describe how a powerful trading ship had set sail from Thebes many seasons ago, carrying a cargo of olive oil and wine destined for faraway ports. However, it never reached its destination, disappearing without a trace on the open seas.
"Days went by, and there was still no sign of the ship. Families cried, fearing their loved ones were lost forever. Then, one moonlit night, a fisherman spotted a ghostly shape drifting on the waves. Thinking it was abandoned, they decided to investigate."
Aspasia paused, building suspense, before continuing. "What they discovered on board has haunted the people of Thebes for generations."
Themistonoe listened intently, eager for more of the story. She had a determined look on her face despite being young, and her hazel eyes shone with curiosity.
Solemnly, the slave looked down. "Everyone on the ship was killed, and their bodies were scattered everywhere. It looked like someone or something very violent attacked them. But the strange thing is, there were no clues about who did it. It's like they were never there."
Gasping, Themistonoe took in the horrifying details that Aspasia shared. "Do you know who did it?" she asked, speaking softly. With darkness surrounding them, Themistonoe found comfort next to Aspasia, feeling safe in her arms.
"Don't worry too much, my dear," Aspasia comforted, gently stroking Themistonoe's hair. "It happened a long time ago, and you are safe here with me."
But behind her innocent eyes, Themistonoe's mind was filled with questions. "But who or what could have killed the crew in such a terrible way, Nurse?"
With a sigh, Aspasia replied, "That is the mystery that sailors have been puzzled by for many years. Some people think that sea monsters come from deep seas. Others believe that pirates attacked the men while they were sleeping, even though nothing was stolen. A few even talk about punishments that were brought upon them for being disobedient..."
Her words faded away mysteriously into the night as Themistonoe shivered again but continued on. "What did the fishermen who found the ship do?"
A sad smile appeared on Aspasia's face. "The fishermen, who were simple people, were too scared to stay. After seeing the horrific scene, they ran away in fear and stayed quiet for days. The ship and crew were left in the open sea, their souls destined to wander."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
While Themistonoe appreciated the comforts of her privileged upbringing, she yearned to break free from the confined expectations of her rank.
As she grew into a beautiful young woman, her education focused on music and performing arts, neglecting subjects like history, math, and science. Any attempt to explore subjects considered traditionally male was rejected.
But Themistonoe's spirit couldn't be contained. After her daily lessons, while her brothers studied philosophy and war strategies, she sneaked into their rooms to read discarded scrolls.
Late into the night, she read by candlelight, devouring tales of great leaders, thinkers, and adventures beyond the city walls. Her imagination blossomed, envisioning a world where women's minds were as free as men's.
However, her pursuit of knowledge did not go unnoticed. Rumours spread about the headstrong daughter of a merchant who questioned her tutors and debated ideas outside her prescribed sphere. Elders complained about the family's unruly child lacking proper inhibition.
Soon enough, the dreaded day arrived. While Themistonoe played her lyre in the garden, her father, Echecratides, approached with a commanding presence. "Daughter, come inside. There is someone I want you to meet."
"Themis, meet Deucalionides, Aristodemus' son," Echecratides introduced. "His father owns vast fields in Thespiae that have made them immensely wealthy. Their house atop Mithron Hill is a magnificent villa."
Echecratides paused, bursting with pride once more. "The marble pillars at the entrance are said to have been quarried by the gods. Inside, there are beautiful tapestries and art from all over. Lavish banquets are held each month, serving exotic delicacies and exquisite wines."
He patted Deucalionides on the shoulder. "This union will bring our family luxury and prestige. Deucalionides will eventually inherit it all. Doesn't this promising match suit my virtuous daughter?"
Deucalionides smiled and kissed Themistonoe's hand. "It is my pleasure. Your beauty and grace rival that of the Muses themselves."
Themistonoe pulled away, scowling at her parents. "I have no desire for this man or any other. My place is with books, not in a stranger's home!"
Helikonis gasped, but Themistonoe stood her ground. "I will not be traded or forced into a loveless marriage just to increase our wealth!"
Echecratides' face flushed with anger as he reprimanded Themistonoe, "How dare you bring shame upon us? You will show respect to Deucalionides, as he will be your husband when the time comes." Seeing that she strongly opposed the idea, he added coldly, "Go against us, and we will kick you out of this home with only the clothes you're wearing."
Themistonoe glanced between her angry father and the friendly but unwelcome suitor, feeling despair take hold. Once again, her curiosity and independence were going to be denied, or so her parents thought. But inside her, a fire burned that couldn't be put out.
No matter how many times Echecratides and Helikonis forced their ashamed daughter to go to Deucalionides' grand house, Themistonoe refused to obey.
During their first visit, she stubbornly stayed quiet while Deucalionides entertained them with a lavish meal. When encouraged to eat, Themistonoe pushed the fancy dishes away in disgust.
On another occasion, as Deucalionides praised her in front of his family gathered on Mithron Hill, Themistonoe openly scoffed at being treated as an object to bargain with. No amount of comforting words from Helikonis could calm her anger.
Time and time again, Echecratides made Themistonoe endure performances by Deucalionides' group of artists meant to impress her. But she found no pleasure in them, scowling through dances and lute performances that were put on in her "honour".
In the most embarrassing moment, when Deucalionides tried to give Themistonoe a beautiful golden Phoenix hairpin imported from faraway Seres as a "bonding gift," she defiantly threw it back in his face for everyone to see. No trinket could buy her freedom or independence.
Every act of defiance only made Echecratides angrier and Helikonismore ashamed of their uncontrollable daughter. However, Themistonoe would not accept any suitor or commitments that would limit her mind and spirit.
The battle for her future had only just started.
When Themistonoe was caught translating works for the respected philosopher Plato, things reached a breaking point. Echecratides' anger knew no bounds. With an anguished cry of anger and shame, he burst into his daughter's room, randomly throwing piles of parchment into the air in a fit of madness.
Themistonoe screamed in horror as she watched her father grab handfuls of her precious scrolls, especially the ones with her notes and translations of Plato's works, as they were proof of the wrongdoing that had pushed him to the edge.
Without a second thought, Echecratides stormed outside into the courtyard. A nearby brazier glowed with hot embers and kept burning through the night to keep away the autumn cold.
Themistonoe ran after her father, desperate to stop the cruelty that she knew was about to happen. But it was too late. With a furious howl, Echecratides started throwing scroll after scroll into the hungry flames.
The parchment curled and blackened as the fire consumed Themistonoe's work, her translations, analyses, and secret examinations of forbidden knowledge. In tearful agony, she could only watch.
Silhouetted against the wild flames, Echecratides stood over the brazier, his chest heaving angrily. As the greedy fire swallowed the last scroll, he turned to Themistonoe with cold revulsion.
Though his daughter remained beautiful, Themistonoe's wild spirit could no longer be contained. She knew in her heart that she did not fit the delicate mould carved out for her by duty and status. A reckoning was approaching, ready to change her path forever.
Rumours spread of Echecratides' headstrong daughter sneaking into the domain of men. That evening, at the symposium, an elder spotted an unwelcome guest quietly absorbing every word - Themistonoe, the merchant's daughter. Gasps rang out across the room at such scandalous behaviour.
The tale quickly spread through the city, reaching Echecratides and Helikonis by nightfall. They could barely believe their daughter's audacity. When Themistonoe finally returned home, she found her parents waiting, ready to unleash their anger.
"We just heard the most shameful news," Echecratides said without preamble. "You disgraced yourself among those philosophers tonight. Explain yourself at once!"
Before Themistonoe could reply, Helikonis cut in. "This behaviour must end. Think of the damage to our reputation!" Through her tears, her mother's grief had turned into outrage. But Themistonoe remained determined, unwilling to repent for her curiosity. Tradition be damned - her spirit could not be broken.
A bitter quarrel followed, with the family's reputation hanging by a thread. Outside, slaves watched in astonishment at the spectacle unfolding within the walls.
At last, seeing no other choice, Echecratides made his ruthless decree. "By defying the order of things, you are no longer our daughter. As of this moment, you are disowned!"
Themistonoe staggered as he tore the golden necklace, symbolising her status, from her neck. Home and inheritance were taken away instantly, leaving her cast out into the unforgiving world alone.
Though Helikonis wept to see her child lost, tradition had been defended. As Themistonoe gathered her few possessions in a daze, her intellect mattered little without the protection of the family name. Night fell with her exiled under the stars, the family's impeccable legacy upheld at her tragic expense.
The streets of Thebes became Themistonoe's solitary realm. Stripped of family, fortune, and status, she drifted through the outskirts like a ghost.
Only her thirst for knowledge remained. Each morning, she rose before dawn to search among the towering scrolls of the archives, seeking purpose in endless writings.
Her oval face had become thinner from enduring seasons of hardship. However, her hazel eyes still showed curiosity and determination, shining brightly beneath her long, raven-black curls. As daylight turned into dusk, a fine layer of dust settled on her fair skin and delicate hands.
A small coin from occasional translations paid for a bowl of lentils and a crust of bread each evening. She slept in the abandoned temple on the outskirts of the city, with flapping bats as her only lullaby.
As seasons mixed together, her smooth, deep blue cloak frayed, and her skin toughened in the sun. Yet her mind flourished without boundaries, absorbing all fields - philosophy, mathematics, and astronomy.
The other scholars looked at her with curiosity, a once privileged daughter now living among scrolls. But no one dared to deny this curious soul's pursuit of answers.
Nights were the hardest, with loneliness and uncertainty eroding her dreams. Often, she cried for all that she had lost - family, future, and fortune - now beyond her desperate reach.
Nevertheless, amidst stacks of dusty knowledge, Themistonoe clung to the hope that her exile might one day bring results. Perhaps she could create a new destiny on her own terms through scrolls and quests for ancient secrets.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The archives were silent as the sun set on yet another day. Themistonoe ran her fingers along the old book spines, finding comfort in titles she knew well.
She had almost read all the books in the collection but still wanted more knowledge to fill her lonely nights. With a tired sigh, she picked the last unread scroll from its shelf.
Unrolling it, she found not philosophy or science but Pindar's personal poems. His work was a valuable national treasure, carefully preserved even though he had passed away thirty-four winters ago.
Themistonoe settled by the soft light of an oil lamp, breathing in the scent of the aged papyrus. How many scholars had been enchanted by Pindar's words over the years? She began to read, caught up in the poet's melodious voice.
Verse after verse depicted powerful figures in vivid, moving scenes. Through his writing, they lived on forever. But one passage in particular captured Themistonoe's imagination:
"The mighty vessel, bound for Thebes' shores, vanished into the deep without word or cause."
She inhaled the musty smell of the old papyrus again, noticing how the flickering light from the lamp cast subtle, dancing shadows on Pindar's worn parchment. It seemed like the fibers of the paper held untold stories.
She kept reading, each line painting a darker picture:
"Days passed in vain awaiting her return, as all assumed the worst fate had claimed the souls aboard."
The delicate texture of the papyrus felt thin and delicate under her fingers as if preserving fragments of the past that wanted to remain hidden. But Themistonoe's curiosity pushed her to keep reading, absorbing every prophetic verse.
"Til one lone fisherman's cast went wide and netted not the day's catch, but a ghostly form drifting on the tide."
As Themistonoe took in the disturbing image of the blood-filled ship and the absence of any living person on board, distant memories flooded her mind. Bits and pieces of a childhood story resurfaced, telling the haunting tale of a mysterious shipwreck from long ago. Each terrifying image that formed in her mind became a cherished piece of knowledge, unravelling the unsettling story of a powerful trading vessel's tragic end.
Even now, Themistonoe could remember the soothing rhythm of her nurse's voice in the calm before sleep. Nestled in the arms of her caregiver, she listened attentively, her eyes shining in the gentle light of the nearby lamp. Protected in those loving arms, she was shielded from the frightening unknowns of the outside world.
But those nights also planted mysterious seeds in Themistonoe that would eventually bloom in her later years. Even as a child, there was something about the slave's story that struck a deep chord with her. Its echoes continued to accompany her in her dreams, forgotten until she stumbled upon Pindar's dark verses many years later.
Putting together the blurry fragments, one line from Pindar's poem emerged from her childhood memories:
"The Poseidon's Fury, lurking ship of souls, a mystery for ages that none could make whole."
Now, the flickering images became clear, and she vividly remembered the descriptions of the ship found off course, its decks stained red with blood and bodies bearing unimaginable wounds. The name Poseidon's Fury also came back to her.
As the memories flooded back, Themistonoe sat in shocked silence, holding Pindar's worn scroll so tightly that her knuckles turned white. It seemed that she had always known this story instinctively. It was no longer just an old tale; the ghostly echoes of a legend had lingered in her subconscious for forgotten years.
Reaching the final verses of Pindar's poem, Themistonoe carefully unrolled the old scroll to reveal its full length. In doing so, a small piece of paper slipped out and fell to the floor.
Bending down to pick it up, she held her breath as she read the faded ink on the old scrap. Holding it close to the flickering lamp, she strained to decipher its long-lost message:
"From the Archives of Thebes:
The fate of the doomed ship Poseidon's Fury remains a mystery that scholars worldwide try to solve. For centuries, the brutal end of its crew has puzzled and remained unexplained. The Archives will generously reward anyone who can unravel the hidden truth behind the ship's tragic fate.
Thirty thousand gold coins—a tremendous fortune beyond any scholar's dreams—will be given to whoever solves this ancient maritime mystery. With such a huge reward, their lives and the lives of their descendants will know no bounds. They will enjoy freedom, prosperity, and fame forever.
Let this notice motivate all curious minds wandering our halls. Solving the puzzle of Poseidon's fury will secure your place in history forevermore. Seek the answers in our vast repositories; unimaginable wealth could be yours."
Themistonoe gasped. Thirty thousand gold coins would be an enormous fortune—more wealth than she could ever imagine having. It was enough to ensure her comfort and freedom, as well as those of her descendants for generations. With such immense riches, her studies could reach new heights.
Her heart swelled with renewed excitement at the thought of claiming this great reward. She wouldn't have to struggle financially anymore. Success in solving this ancient maritime puzzle would bring her wealth, prestige, and freedom.
The note strengthened Themistonoe's resolve like never before. She quickly rushed towards Archmagus Praxillaides, the Head of the Archives, clutching Pindar's scroll. She eagerly asked, "Is this reward really available?"
Praxillaides squinted as he examined the note. His serious expression turned into surprise. "Yes, it's true. This notice was placed almost a long time ago when no one could solve the case. The brilliant person who solves Poseidon's Fury will receive thirty thousand pieces of gold."
Themistonoe felt weak, using the desk for support. After enduring years of loneliness and hardship, unimaginable prosperity could be within her reach. She just had to uncover the mysteries that had puzzled previous generations of brilliant thinkers.
Finally, she had a worthy goal for her long quest: to uncover the truth behind Poseidon's cursed voyage and claim the extraordinary prize. Her journey now had a clear and monumental purpose, propelling her into the depths of history's shadows.
Lost in thoughts of attaining such wealth and using it to further her studies without limits, she failed to notice the whispers nearby in the archives. Only when she looked up from Pindar's scroll and began planning her research did she notice the disapproving glances and hushed conversations surrounding her.
"There goes Echecratides' unpredictable daughter, always lost in scrolls."
"Mark my words; a woman meddling in such dark mysteries will only bring trouble. She'd be better off focusing on her domestic responsibilities."
Themistonoe did her best to ignore the disapproving sighs from the elders and remained focused on her quest. She found comfort in the knowledge she gained from her studies, even though some believed they were distractions from her duties. It was something that fate couldn't take away from her.
Through Pindar's verses, she felt a calling, a desire to solve the unanswered mysteries. There was a deep ancestral connection within her soul as if the ship's tragic riddle had become her own enduring curse over the years. Now, the time had come for her to break free from its haunting hold.
But pursuing the answers meant facing opposition. She had already endured her father's anger and her mother's tears, being cast out into a harsh world that deemed her delicate looks unfit. Yet, she possessed a strong determination that defied those narrow judgments of her abilities.
To the elders, her dedication seemed like a risky defiance of traditional virtues. But where they saw shame, she felt proud. She found a purpose when they expected her to be passive. No one could weaken the passion that motivated her, fueled by curiosity rather than obligation or personal gain.
In the comfort of late nights, surrounded by documents and ink, her spirit thrived without limitations. She would not be influenced by the doubts or disapproving glances that followed her every step. Let them question – she had a mystery to solve, and she would follow the clues no matter where they led, in spite of close-mindedness that tried to confine her.
As the moons went through their phases, Themistonoe tirelessly delved into the old archives, hoping to discover overlooked clues within the aged documents. Dust clung to her hands as she carefully examined each page, searching for any indication or lead.
(Scholar Themistonoe)
Some texts crumbled when she touched them, secrets locked away for so long that their bindings fell apart. Enduring such losses tested her determination, but she kept going. If any fragment of cursed knowledge remained untouched, she would reveal it.
Late into the night, she tirelessly translated crumbling scripts, decoding languages that mortal tongues had long forgotten. By the light of her lamp, she studied fading charts, mapping seas that were known differently in ancient times. Runes scribbled along the edges, hinting at forbidden knowledge erased from public records.
Piece by piece, she reconstructed the fractured histories, separating truth from embellishment. With each new discovery, her imagination grew, catching glimpses of the elder world in fleeting moments. Themistonoe knew that her journey had only just begun. She would not rest until she had uncovered every cursed secret of the Poseidon's Fury, making it her own knowledge to possess.
Footnotes:
[1] One hundred and eighty-seven years had elapsed since the incident, placing the story's setting in 404 BC.
N/A:
What difficulties have you faced in pursuing your passions or ambitions?
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