Chapter 55: The Serpent's Admonition
The private suite was brightly lit by roaring torches, the hearth's flame renewed, and spicy-smelling incense lingered in all corners. Walls were in color like the sand, painted with scenes from the great past before the golden age. Depicted were painted figures of men fishing and of women dancing along with the sea tides—much like the ones in King Minos's palace in Caphtor.
And unlike the gloomy atmosphere that haunted the other parts of the megaron, Enyo's side of the dwelling was cheerier.
Courtesans danced and performed acts from a play written by some old playwright. Wine flowed like a river, filling every gold cup as laughter resonated. There was music—strummed lyres, blown flutes, and percussions making a rhythm that could send the soul into euphoria. Performers carried masks, showcasing a sweet or sour expression depending on how their characters felt in a scene.
The whole space was crowded with smiling faces of women. And amongst the sea of joy that filled the dauntless void of misery was Enyo herself. She laughed with her ladies, admiring the show the performers blessed her. She clapped, praising every act that gave her bliss, and scorned a scene that infuriated her.
As if there were no errands to do outside the thick walls of her haven, the merriment was too wild for quaint pessimism that both wine and food fogged their senses, leaving only the side of ecstatic happiness.
Everyone, including the lowly servants, enjoyed every second of the small feast—although they knew not what they were celebrating for.
But no sooner, feeling like time slowly passed, the goddess of battle laid on her fancy throne tailored with the finest fabric and jewels, hoping to pass the day as dullness began to hover over her. As she went on observing the performance, her eyes slowly fluttered into sleep as her mind traversed into the memory when Ares called for her on that one midnight.
She reminisced the tears that flowed down from those furious eyes when he learned of Aphrodite's steadfast admiration towards the mortal Adonis. She remembered his hands trembling, understanding the brewing anger that ate every bit of his being. Oh, how broken and vulnerable the god of war looked like, and despite her bearing of being equally callous and vicious, she pitied him. She could feel her spirit splintered when he began to thrash and throw anything that was in his way. And on the spur of the moment, Ares suddenly grabbed her—harassed her lips with his needy ones and growled, demanding for her to surrender under him like she was his prisoner. However, beyond his awareness, the goddess was more than happy to be his victim even when the ardor he was feeling was not of sincere affection.
Once he took her to his bed, his madness ferally ravaged all of her—mumbling bitter words against Aphrodite and her beloved paramour, Adonis. Despite the pain from the forceful sex, Enyo endured and rejoiced—for it had been a long time since she had longed to be his. And that night when she gave in to him, she had it in mind he was already hers.
The goddess kept this moment etched deep into the tiniest cell of her soul even when she knew that Ares was having another secret rendezvous to release his anger against the goddess of love. She still thought of him as hers, and nothing could make her change her mind.
Red came fuming on her cheeks when her mind reverted to that memory. She was feeling every moment of it, savoring the feel of his skin and the kiss that caused blood to seep through her skin.
Enyo's eyes finally closed, bidding a brief conclusion to the feast and other merriment.
The music seemed looping, the play turned arid, and even the dancing ladies no longer gave excitement. Yet despite the growing blandness, guests still relished the celebration—devouring every drop of the drink and every piece of the food on the table. The laughs and singing did not dwindle along with the recess,
Not until…
"Dear lady!" The doors aggressively swung open when Ikarus entered, surprising the wine-filled ladies, especially Enyo, who bolted out from her sleep.
His intrusion exasperated the whole party, even more so with the resting goddess as she scampered on her heels and demanded an explanation for such a violating act.
"Who dares interrupt my moment of leisure?" She scorched. Once she gazed upon the face of the prowler, she sighed—disappointed to see such an unimportant person. "Ugh—what is it this time, Ikarus?"
"Forgive me, dear goddess," The shamed man bowed. "I come here to tell you of Tanis. She is now seeing a new vision. She was muttering—"
"Nonsense!" Enyo retorted, raising her voice to emphasize her irritation with the priestess. "She has been muttering complete nonsense ever since we landed here."
"But, my lady, she is now telling us about a certain death. She mumbled about an entity's arrival that would bring a great catastrophe."
"Well, I guess she meant the end of the deities' reign." Though there was a hint of derision in her voice, the goddess confidently assured. "Remember what she was saying on our first night? She preached about the calming of the water. She was soliloquizing about how the water no longer knows its purpose—calmed only by the thought of its past and the grace that remained with its supremacy.
That old woman was also telling us that fire no longer found solace in its burning fury, embracing the change of the spark and the direction of its smoke. Do, tell me, my humble subject, did all of those happen?"
Ikarus was tight-lipped. He could not find the courage to express his judgment with a fear that a bolt of lightning might strike upon him if he lashed out words that might insult the goddess.
But why was he feeling fear when it should have been security his spirit could have felt first, knowing it was promised to them by the goddess herself? Doubt was such a temptation Ikarus could not manage to dispel. Such sin was heavy. Such a way of thought could bring him to a punishment he could not endure—
Looking into the fiery eyes of the goddess, all of a sudden, Ikarus had a revelation. Something inside him was cracking like an egg—revealing the slime with a rotten yolk. Grey as death and green as the moss that grew on poisonous land.
There was envy behind those eyes. What should have been a divine hand turned malevolent. Ikarus could not define in a proper statement what lay behind the façade of false promises and invisible grace.
"I have been wronged." He finally uttered under his breath while sight never left the goddess's face.
"Can you not speak, Ikarus?" Enyo aggressively demanded. "Tell me, did all of Tanis's mumbles come true? And what do you say about this incoming death? I am beyond death—I am the bringer of death." Regardless of the plain tone, Enyo proudly stated with chin raised high—wielding dominance not just with the intruder but also among her guests. "There is nothing that can end me, dear mortal."
As his anxiety grew, Ikarus unknowingly bellowed a warning towards the goddess, giving everyone a lasting impression that could either send him to a prolonged punishment or an immediate death. "Then hold firm to that belief, Your Grace! Believe what you want to believe, but I cannot risk letting this all be. If you could only see how the priestess convulsed and her eyes—oh, her eyes turned red, losing her pupils from madness!"
"Watch your tongue!" Enyo retorted with glares, scowling at such an insult. "Who gave you the right to talk to me like that? Have you forgotten what I did to you? Before Olympus fell and all the city-states burned into fury, I rescued you away from the wrath. I am your savior!
Do not even dare to say more, Ikarus, just because your priestess was burbling about death!"
"And death it is my goddess—" Without any forewarning, Tanis appeared from the open door—drenched in her sweat, with the tangles in her hair dispersed all around in a disheveled manner, and eyes sunken, dread to see those chaotic visions for the rest of her life.
The disturbed priestess walked ominously towards the goddess, unbothered by her dominating aura. On the other hand, the guests were slowly moving away from their positions, following the servants who knew Tanis's unpredictability.
Immersed in a hawk-like instinct, Tanis circled Enyo, studying her as if she were no goddess at all. A sardonic smile curved on the corners of her lips, tailed by a laugh that covertly angered the goddess even more.
"So, you arrived." Enyo haughtily said, equaling the stance of the priestess.
"Yes, my lady. I arrived." Tanis responded after she halted right in front of her. "I see some envy in your soul—I wonder who is this mysterious entity that managed to strum the bad side of the goddess?"
Enyo rolled her eyes, hating on the jest the priestess seemed to push. "Now—what is it?" She diverted, inquiring about her undesirable visit.
"Blood—Water—Fire!" Tanis blew, somehow sending shivers down on the guests' spines. "There is a great change with the tides. Water and fire came together—formed a strong bond, and created blood. It cried like a bleating calf, bringing amok to all who dared to go the opposite. Such change would bring death. Death is he—he is death! His coming will be our end, with fire, water, and spilled blood." Tanis drew closer to Enyo, looking deeply into her eyes, and gave off an uncertain spell that beguiled the goddess to an even more mystery.
Feeling each other's hot and fuming breath, the tension between the two blanketed the once cheery celebration of the suite.
"Alright, old woman. What is this fire and water? What on earth are you talking about? We all know those two elements were destined to be foes until the end of time. We cannot change their nature—that is how Zeus made it, to balance the world." In her sotto voice—mad, bitter, and would not take one more downtrodden message from her, Enyo frankly reminded.
Snarked but still bold, Tanis accepted the goddess's stubbornness. In response, she broke away from her stares and said, "Classic goddess of the battlefield—persistent and fulsome." Sensing that all panicked eyes were on them, the priestess faced the small crowd and addressed them with the same roaring warning with hands stretched out—pointing to each soul who devoured all the little moments. "Heed every word that came from these lips! None of these faces will survive the scene that came to me. I hear cries for help. I see hands reaching, but no hope in sight. Oh, he will come. Brief his scene may be, but his coming was as brutal as the fall of Olympus."
Flabbergasted, most of the audience could not comprehend. As the air grew thick and the sun ready to bleed for the afternoon, everyone now had this crisis in their head that a mad woman had cursed them. Some went into hiding, sheltering their sanity behind ornate pillars or draperies. The other guests, those who had no chance to hide, were immersed in the horrors forced upon them.
The odds decided to give no favor for them—one by one, blowing out the torches that lit the space, leaving only a dim streak that revealed every individual harrowing sentiment, not just with the two members of the cult of Medusa but with the whole scenario. Seeing this frowzy assembly, Ikarus warily took Tanis and led her back to her room.
Once the resonating pitter-patters of Tanis and Ikarus's feet slowly faded amongst the dreary hall outside the suite, Enyo did not speak—leaving only an air of deafening silence, with her followers stranded on the thought of impending doom.
But much like what Medusa's priestess proclaimed before, the goddess of brutal battle was stubborn. Her mind was as hard as the rocks, and her spirit was depleted from the idea of openness.
Blood—
Water—
And fire—
Enyo only understood the words as some bluff of an insane priestess. In the wake of an eerie silence, she finally smiled and mocked the moment as nothing but a nuisance—a disturbance to the feast she commenced as a celebration of Athena's deplorable act of losing her well-preserved maidenhood to what she presumed from Anubis's parched lust for her.
"Let us toast for the lunacy we endured—More wine for everyone!" She then gleefully announced, making all of her league dumbfounded.
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