After wandering all morning they came upon the temples. The square where the temples were located was quite busy as people moved up and down their businesses. Some were entering different temples to present their offerings and offer their prayers, some priests were moving around to attend to the people seeking to make offerings to the gods and some other simply sold things outside different temples. There were temple prostitutes who lingered around calling out to passersby. Helena gazed at the tall, beautiful buildings in awe. There were many temples and she was deeply awed by the beauty of the temples but not surprised because mortals were known to spend their precious possessions pleasing the gods and if pleasing the gods required them to give up their gold and silver they would happily do it because they wanted favors from the said gods. Back at Camelorn, there were temples for her, Robos, Termla, her daughter Ashterah and many other gods of Camelorn. During festivals, the gods were known to come down and live among men so they would partake in the feasts and declare blessings on the people.
Demeus pulled her to a stop in front of the temples. “These are the temples of the gods of Eyrotia. Very impressive as you can see.” But not as impressive as the temples the gods had in their pantheons because no matter how much mortals gave and how many skills they possessed, they could never have more than the gods nor can they possess more knowledge than them.
Helena nodded. “Truly impressive indeed.” She linked her arm through his. Demeus resisted the urge to run his fingers over the part of her hand where the ruby bracelet rested. “Tell me, Ramus, Helena continued, “ about the gods of Eyrotia.”
Well, he couldn’t quite tell her about the gods of Eyrotia without first talking about himself. He was the god of gods of Eyrotia but he couldn’t very well tell her that for fear that he would scare her off. Instead, he veered her in the opposite direction and found himself headed towards the temple of Oya. His heart tightened in his chest as he recalled Oya’s betrayal. How could she have betrayed him and how could he have been blind to see that she and Lofus, the god of the sea were involved in an affair. He could have forgiven her the affair if she had not run back to Lofus the night before their wedding feast. He and Oya had grown together and it was assumed that they would end up together and the assumption had been backed by the fact that the both of them had actually fallen in love with each other but along the way of their journey together Oya and Lofus who shared her domain with her.
“Who is this?”
They were inside the temple of Oya and Helena was looking up at the statue of a woman placed at the center of the temple’s nearly empty space. The statue captured Oya as well as mortals could sculpt her. She was beautiful with thick black hair that rested on one shoulder, her breasts and hips were full and though carved out of stone Demeus could feel the softness of her skin in his mind. Her eyes in real life were as blue as the ocean and burned a bright sapphire when she was angry but since this was a statute it was simply blank.
“Oya, the goddess of the sea.”
“She is beautiful,” Helena said as she touched the toes of the statue.
“Yes, she is.” But it was a pity that her heart wasn’t as beautiful as her face.
Helena looked up at the strained tone of his voice. In his face was something that looked like pain and it was a look so raw that she felt he knew something he wasn’t saying.
“Are you alright?”
He jerked and glanced down at her. “Yes, why not?”
Helena shrugged. “You looked like you were in pain.” She looked back at the statue and back at him with a puzzled look on her face. “Do you not like her?”
He raised his brow at her question. Did he already suspect that he wasn’t who he said he was? Was she already suspecting him to be a god?
“Why do you ask that?”
She shrugged. “It is no secret that some mortals are not particularly fond of gods, they find them partial and too demanding. They love some and hate the others so it would not be uncommon for you to not be fond of the goddess of the sea after all.” She took his arm again. “You’re a fisherman, isn’t it unwise to not honour the goddess of the ocean since she decides whether or not your boat capsizes or whether or not the fishes swim into your nets?”
The woman was too smart. He shrugged like she had done to appear nonchalant. “And how would you know that this? That mortals do not fully love the gods like they claimed to?”
Helena started. She had spoken too soon and gotten rather comfortable. Too comfortable apparently, for she had left her mouth and thoughts run ahead of her. She scrambled in her head for a way to cover up her tracks, it wouldn’t do for him to know she was a goddess. “Hmm…well, perhaps because…because I do have my own lists of favorite gods.”
“And I suppose the god of excess of whatever country you’re from must be your favorite because you tend to do too much of everything; eat, ask questions and talk.”
Helena narrowed her eyes at him but there was a smile on her face. “This is the second time you’ve hinted that I talk too much, I shall have to find a punishment for you if you do that again.”
He laughed, relieved that he had successfully diverted the conversation from himself. “So, Helena, you still haven’t told me where you’re from.”
Helena almost faltered in her steps as they went around the statue and began to join the line of those who had come to give their offerings. “Well… let that be a mystery for you.”
They stopped talking as they took incense from bowls held by priests and put them in a large bowl of fire that was set up at the altar for it was customary that anyone who came visiting the temple should present an offering to whatever god resided in that temple. As Demeus put his own incense in the bowl he hoped that Oya was not watching him. The last thing he wanted was to have her reveal his identity to Helena. That could be big trouble.
For the fourth time, Demeus thought he would scream at the top of his lungs if Helena cooed over the beauty of the temples one more time. She acted as though she had been trapped for a long time in a dungeon and this was her first chance at seeing the light and the things it contained. However, he did not know that he wasn’t so far from the truth. Helena’s life at Mount Kpamos could be described as a prison of some sort since she could not do whatever she wanted back at home without being reminded of the wife of who she was. For the first time in a long time, Helena felt genuinely happy and free. The world held a bigger, brighter light that held her transfix and every time she looked back at Demeus and he smiled at her she wanted to grab him and kiss him and thank him for doing this for her. He was so patient, so kind and his ear was open to her every talk. Often times she caught herself reaching down to hold his hand then she caught herself and linked her arm through his. It pained
Helena was beyond confused. One minute she had standing by the stone statue watching her handsome escort being led away by his friend. As she stood waiting for him to come back three people approached her, two men and one beautiful dark-skinned woman between them. Helena realized she was staring at them when the woman smiled at her and she immediately averted her eyes. The woman and her crew came to where she was standing beside the statue. Helena shuffled from foot to foot as she waited. “Aren’t the sculptors of Eyrotia talented?” the woman said to Helena. Her voice was light and melodious like the voice of a singer and Helena immediately felt at ease with her. She turned to see the woman running her hands all over the sculpture in appreciation. When the woman smiled at Helena she smiled back. “I was just saying the same to my companion,” Helena said to her with a wave of her hand towards where Demeus and Torlan had disappeared. The woman’s eyes travelled to where H
Neither Helena nor Demeus spoke as they headed back to the inn. Torlan had departed from them long ago to drink at a tavern. Demeus suspected that his reason for leaving them was beyond his need to fulfill his love for drinking and whoring. He could sense that both Helena and Demeus needed a moment to shake off the shock of being attacked. For Helena, it was her first time experiencing such from mere mortals. For Demeus it was not his first time being attacked since he often disguised himself as a human but he could sense from Helena’s sullen countenance that she was shaken from the experience. As they walked in silence in the busy streets of Eyrotia with the traders calling to people to buy their wares and drunken men falling over one another in the dying light of the day Demeus cast concerned glances towards her. After a while, he pulled her close and draped his arm around her shoulder. She looked up at him with bright blue eyes and smiled. She was extremely grateful for h
Present time. The chiefs of Eyrotia were gathered around the child who was wrapped in a light brown shawl and placed in a woven carrier. Her eyes were open and bright. Her eyes were as fiery red as her hair and they twinkled brightly against the lamp-lit palace interior. Every chief and nobleman present was quiet as they awaited the arrival of the seer who was to come and tell them the meaning of the birth of a child who was so different from both her father and her mother. In the birthing room, Queen Herentik was in tears as she rested on the bundles of clothes the midwives bunched around her to hold her up during birth. Her tears were born of hopelessness for she knew that the prophecy of the seer must come true. A year before she conceived the seer had visited her in the early hours of the morning to tell her about the prophecy sent to him by the gods. In the prophecy was the birth of a child that would bring her sorrow so profound that age would w
Three months after the birth of the child Oya visited the palace in the dead of the night in the disguise of a fellow servant along with her daughter, Goyre, a tall slim goddess with a figure that was a replicate of her mother's. She was the product of Oya’s unfaithful affair against Demeus. They both looked down on the child who slept peacefully in the arms of her mother, their skin color and other features a clear contrast. “So this is the child of Demeus? The child of prophecy?” Goyre looked into the child’s face. “She looks just like any mortal would. Are you sure she is a goddess mother?” “The prophecy says so. She was born of two gods after all” Oya touched her daughter’s head of thick black hair. “Goyre, you must promise me that you’ll find a way to get rid of the prophecy. It must never come to pass. If it does, everything we know and have will get destroyed.” Goyre looked up at her tall, elegant mother with gleaming black skin and dee
A week after Phoenix’s 10th birthday the princess Jumi turned 7 and a feast was thrown to celebrate the anniversary of her birth with Phoenix in attendance as her personal maid. It was a wonderful, evening with the setting sun casting a golden glow on the kingdom. The palace was a buzz of activities with the servants, cooks and guards moving about to ensure that all was ready before the arrival of the guests who were mainly chiefs and nobles. Phoenix walked through the ever-bustling street of King’s road. The King’s road was so-called because it was a direct passage to the king’s castle. She was on a mission to collect Jumi’s robe, a special present from Queen Merea, from the royal weaver. Her cloak was around her shoulders as she hurried on, she was supposed to have collected the cloth since the early hours of the morning but the head servant had tasked her with the duty of cleaning the kitchen storage room and peeling the ingredients required to prepare the meal for the fe
As soon as the door to the huge hall was open the musicians at the corner of the room began to play their instruments. The room was brightly lit with lamps and sconces. Servants were milling around carrying plates and goblets to and from the large table that was set on the king’s dais. Around the king’s table were the head of noble households. Noblemen and women of 10 in number sat with the king while the lower part of the hall was set up with tables and velvet-covered chairs for their families. The crowd of people in the hall rose in honor of the queen and princess as they passed by the guests and made for the king’s table. As they passed friends of the queen reached out to congratulate Jumi on her birthday, many of them handed the gifts they brought for her to Phoenix until she was hidden under loads of gifts. “Here comes the princess of Eyrotia,” king Barigo announced as he rose from his seat and held out his hand to his daughter to support her ascent on the king’
It was late morning and the sun was already hot against the back of her neck as she scrubbed the kitchen floor. The servants had just finished serving breakfast and they were waiting for the arrival of the royal family in the hall. The head servant had called Phoenix from Jumi’s room where she had been laying the princess’s dress for breakfast. Phoenix had tried to explain that she was barely done with preparing Jumi for breakfast when the queen entered and in a very uncharacteristic manner told her not to worry about taking care of Jumi since she, the queen, wanted to dress Jumi herself. Phoenix had bowed and left the room with the head servant in the kitchen where a bucket and rags awaited her. Without any question, she dropped to her knees and began to scrub away the scraps of food and soot from the floor. Another servant stood by the washbowl cleaning the tools which had been used for the preparation of the meal while another polished the utensils that would be used by the king,