"."
-
VII. Gift
She had grown accustomed to Prometheus. The long conversations they shared in the past days had etched him in a lukewarm place in her heart. She felt comfortable again. He made her feel like she belonged. And that stolid suit of armor that never left her side, though rarely did it move, made her feel safer. The deities that scattered, flew and embraced her along the way made her feel whole. It was a perfect trinity to her. A large and robust man who reminded her of Prometheus in the pleasant yet realistic way he would speak to her, a broad and strong guardian whom she knew at this time would defend her with all that it had, and a beauteous family of billions that would never let her fall to her enemies, she reminisced and savored every minute and every hour that had passed her by.
But below was everything but happy. She knew what was surely happening, the constant wave after wave of her deities imposing all of their tremendous weight upon the cities and kingdoms, but the time she had with Prometheus took her mind off of it. The past days for her was filled with deep conversations on several subjects such as philosophy, ethics and morals, leadership, love and warfare, trials and tribulations, pleasure, hatred, and things of those likes. At times their conversations would become heated with Pandora standing strong on her view points and Prometheus challenging her to find within herself why she believed what she did and even at times outright rejecting how she saw things. It was clear that they had their different views on certain matters about life, where she saw life as something special and something that was meant to be cherished at its deepest levels, he saw the individual life as a chaotic force that was meant to be checked and governed, but ironically this only made her feel all the more comfortable to be around him. She loved a person who stayed true to what they believed and that was why this large, and at one time terrifying gray individual, inundated her thoughts with Prometheus, that strong and steadfast man who had fathered and cherished her all those long ages ago. The memories were still so clear to her as if they were not so old.
They had taken a pause from their long colloquy, the man she now called Prometheus and herself and she had now been taken in by the relative silence and was taking this moment to reflect on the last few days and all the irony that came with it.
In all the talks of valuing life with Prometheus, she had been willingly allowing her endless number of children to snub out life one by one, kingdom after kingdom. The cities and empires that made up the great imperium known as Kaoacien was mostly now remnants and dust. But from her high horse all the way in the sky, she could not get the chance to feel all of their suffering and cries, the cries of mothers forced to watch as their terrified children were crushed and swallowed by the ceaseless tides of deities, the shaky pains swelling within the bodies of brave soldiers who sought to fight back no matter how vain. Perhaps if she had, she would not be so eager to continue her expedition up north, a place that was so far from the southern imperium that it would only warrant more death and sorrow along the way. But the wise words of Prometheus, the gray man, made it seem to her as if it were the only way, a dark justice, a long and arduous journey through a glum tunnel all just so she could feel the warm embrace of light on the other side. What that warm embrace was, this was something she was still beginning to understand. When she first emerged from the box all those days ago in that murky forest on the stone floors naked, afraid and on the verge of death, she did not feel as if she belonged. She had entered a world that should have long forgotten her, she thought. Everything appeared different, like different forms of things she had once known so vibrantly. But she was adjusting, slowly discovering things about herself that she had never known and she owed it to the man who kept her company and fed her different and new thoughts each step of the way. This world was beginning to feel like that world she had once known, but with all of this power that she had at her side, she needed to know what kind of world she wanted to create. Though she was older than most, likely older than everyone who was now in existence, she still felt youthful. Physically, she was. A young, slender woman still blessed with the elixir of gentle adolescence. Her hair a smooth field of amaryllises, her eyes a lovely coalesce of green tones and textures, her skin a fresh running of milk with a gentle drip of honey, and that oh so strange yet adoring green glow that would flush and illuminate her skin like she was ensnared by a great pasture of untouched grass the way it wrapped around every single inch of her body covering her like she was the earth in which they sprouted so boldly from. She was certainly uncommon, she possessed and embodied a uniquely arresting soma that she could call her own, though she did not even know how she appeared to others. Never did or could she find a reflection of herself and so never did she know her own beauty.
But she was certainly beautiful. She was young. She was curious. Most of all, she was idealistic. However, as most ideals go, she pictured things going one way just to watch it unravel in the opposite form. Where she wanted minimal death and suffering in her wake and journey, she had already brought the fear into the hearts of millions within a nation already so painstakingly devastated. The deities wreaked havoc, though just mindless beings following wherever she was, caring nothing for what stood in their path. They were hazardous, a force so powerful they brought the old gods to their knees and brought an end to their long, enduring reign over the earth within a span of years. She had brought to ruin everything they had wrought all those many lifetimes ago. But she was sympathetic towards the humans. She, in fact, was human herself, despite whatever power or unique features she owned, she was still another one of them. A child with the power to bring down those who fancied themselves gods. That's how she had always thought of herself. It was a cute kind of innocence she retained through all of the chaos she suffered through and even caused. But in the journey to become a conqueror as Prometheus had been teaching her to become in the past days, she needed to shed that childlike hide in order to create a world for herself that was pleasant...a new world built upon the ruins of the old.
"Here, Pandora. I have a gift for you," Prometheus said with a congenial smile. He got up from his usual sitting position where his legs would be crossed and folded on top of one another, and walked wobbly on top of the heads and bodies of the deities all the way to where she sat. He stuck out his hands and presented to her a pretty object which left her gazing. It was a beautifully crafted wreath decorated with only the most alluring of flowers, flowers of which ranged from all different sizes and colors, textures and fragrances.
"Two days ago, I had my people search the region endlessly for the most beautiful flowers and select only the best flowers. They did, however, some did not survive, apparently they were confronted by the Purple Men, and were viciously murdered. Only bits of their robes remain. It was painstaking to find out the news and I did not want to trouble you then but I believe it was worth it...they died serving their queen to the very end...I was waiting for the right time to present the gift to you and I believe that time is now. From our talks in the past days, I have seen how you are beginning to think like a queen so it is time that you looked like one," he said.
He gestured for her to come closer. She did. His large frame overwhelming hers, he hunched down and placed the wreath gently over her head, treating it as gently as one would with a crown. Carefully laying it upon her scalp which was a thick running of red like a volcano that dripped with magma long its sides.
"The yellow chrysanthemums represent your neglected love and longing. The dahlias represent your struggle to find your inner self."
Her happy face soon turned sad. A whimper dragged along her face. Hearing him say these things dampened her spirits. Why would he be saying these things about me? She questioned internally? She did not realize he had picked up so quickly on some of her most buried insecurities so quickly.
He continued, seemingly absorbing the contents of her face and assessing it within his mind. "The star magnolia, a truly rare one. This particular magnolia represents womanly beauty and nobility. The roses accentuates that long burning side of you that longs for a love, an enduring bond...perhaps another Prometheus hence your purpose for naming me after him. The passion flower channels your inner energies and heightens your spiritual awareness."
"Take the good and the bad, Pandora. Once you accept your weaknesses along with your strengths, they can no longer be used to your enemies advantage. Claim both sides, wear them proudly and they cannot harm you. I do apologize if I did cause offense."
Prometheus became silent. He studied her expression which took on features of reverence. He said to her, "If you may, I would like to pass the time. Perhaps even pick your mind."
She wondered what he meant.
He asked that she close her eyes with the promise of a surprise. So, trusting him, she did, closing her eyes so tightly, in fact, the skin around them were so close they mirrored rippling water.
"No peaking," he said.
With her eyes shut, she heard slight but noticeable movement coming from where he was standing. She was beginning to become excited, the anticipation was crushing. She felt a great jubilation. A smile perked on her face, growing and sprouting like flowers in a flourishing spring season. She held her hands together and clasped her fingers between each other. She was enjoying playing along.
"Open your eyes, my queen."
She heard the voice, followed its instructions but only saw the many deities flying all around her and the long expanse of a somber sky.
She looked down and saw Prometheus sitting down in that usual position of his. But this time she saw a flat board made of stone with several pieces, half made of white stones and the others sculpted from black stones. The board was sectioned off by a series of black and white squares.
"Come and sit with me," he said.
Crouching lower to the surface of the massive herd of deities they rode on, she find a spot comfortable enough to sit on, manipulating her deities to shift around to better suit her comfort. She sat with him. This was something she had not seen in a very long time. It was a game she would see Prometheus play with the old gods on occasion. It was plain as day, the chessmen: the queen pieces, the king pieces, the chevaliers, the pawns, the peasants, and even the bishops. She had played it once on occasion with Prometheus at a young time in her life but never again since.
"Are you familiar with the game of capture? You may know it by another name, perhaps you may have seen it being played by the gods of your time, you may have even played it yourself. Essentially the game goes like this, these four pieces you see here," he pointed to the peasant pieces, "these are the four rook pieces. The four knights. Four bishops. Sixteen peasants. Finally you have your queen, and mostly importantly..." he began to lift a king piece up to illumine all of its stone white features in the powerful sunlight cast down by the glimmering sun. "This is your king piece," he held up the white stone piece high, "it is the most valuable piece, ensuring this piece is not captured is absolutely paramount. Capture the opposition's king and you have the won the game of capture."
He, with the piece clasped tightly in between his palm and fingers, stretched out his hand and placed it in Pandora's cupped palm. She eyed the piece with a simmering look of awe, gorging over its brittle details.
"Look upon its features but spurn its name and any notion of its sex, for that is of no significance. If I had not told you of its position would you have known it was the most important amongst all of the others? Of course you would, the figure creates the title. The title does not give it its power. Gaze upon the piece and see how it stands out from the congregation. The outright fury is in its appearance alone. Mighty is it not? And as for the other pieces, they too are mighty in their own right. True. But what do all these pieces share? They can still be captured. No matter how powerful the king piece is or how powerful the queen and knight, the only way to win this game of capture is through trusting your entire set, each piece as integral to the success of the game. One cannot win without the other. This is my second lesson to you today and I hope it follows you well. Place your faith in us, your people, and we shall never fail. One who stands alone against his enemies can be defeated, even one as powerful as a king. Never forget this, let this wrap around you like skin, and the silver tongue of the Rare Men can never pierce you."
He sat down. "Seeing how the white piece is already in your hands, take the white set, and I shall be the black," he smiled.
"No."
There was this look on his face, though not very clear, that expressed he was surprised by her saying no.
"Never let your enemy guide your actions. You taught me that as well," she smiled gleefully. "I will take the black pieces," she chuckled.
"Truly clever. Very brilliant, indeed...it is that what I wish you to think? How can you be so sure this was not my plan all along?"
"Your face. I've never seen you shocked before but now I have. That's how I know," she said gleefully, feeling she had a taught a lesson as if she borrowed the role of the mentor. She impressed herself, she not only listened and trusted his teachings, she began to use them to guide her.
"Clever girl," he smiled. "Now sit and play, cheeky girl," he laughed.
"Never let your enemies guide your actions, trust in your people always," he grinned.