Scorched

by Jendela Tryst

  Worried that Daphne’s staunch resolve to remain unattached would wane and result in Apollo getting his way and ultimately being rewarded for his mockery, Eros impulsively struck the hapless maid with an arrow of lead, the kind that would cause revulsion. The effect was instantaneous. Daphne looked wide-eyed at the gorgeous god who had fallen fatefully from the sky, staring adoringly at her, dropped her lyre, and went thrashing into the woods.

  Apollo, finally realizing what was happening, gave chase, begging the nymph to pause and give him a chance, calling out that he only wanted to talk to her. Daphne would not stop. The maid’s feet were swift. For miles he chased her through the woods, and the other gods made merry of Apollo’s bumbling. The creatures of Olympus were patting Eros on the back, thanking him for the hilarious show. Eros denied any responsibility, but no one believed him. All of Olympus was roaring with joy while Eros continued to cringe. Apollo’s desperation was growing and the nymph’s legs were tiring. Eros found that he could find no resolution to this dilemma that he had started. Should he strike Daphne with an arrow of love and so reverse the poison? He wasn’t sure this would even work. The arrow of lead would be useless against the god, he knew, for it was not strong enough to offset one love arrow, much less two. A dozen lead arrows would not be strong enough. Apollo’s heart was too far-gone. Eros had his arrow of love, ready to shoot the nymph. Apollo would win, but at least Daphne would welcome him. Before he could release the arrow, fate intervened.

  Daphne cried out for her father, the river god, a powerful being in his own right. She made it to his river safely, just before Apollo could reach her, and the river god managed to splash her with transforming water. Suddenly, her hands began to elongate and leaves came out of her hair and in mid-stride, her feet stopped and took root at the edge of the river. She was transformed into a laurel tree just as Apollo reached her hand and grasped it for an adoring kiss.

  Daphne’s wish to remain unclaimed by any man was granted, but at such a cost. Apollo, realizing what had happened, suddenly fell to his knees at the foot of the tree. For the first time in Eros’s life, he saw his mighty uncle, Apollo, proud god of the sun and athletics, weep like a child. His anguish could be heard throughout Olympus as only the most pained of emotions could be felt. Apollo swore that he would honor Daphne forever, and that he was sorry he frightened her and that, had his love been less, he would have contained himself. He then blessed the tree with eternal youth and beauty so that the laurel would stay forever green. Apollo swore he would always wear a crown of Daphne’s leaves upon his head to symbolize strength, honor, and victory. For Daphne was victorious and had completely conquered the god of the sun.

  Eros shifted uncomfortable at the memory of Apollo’s broken figure bowed over a tree. Eros wished more than ever that the chains were off of him. The god of love had avoided Apollo ever since that incident. Eros had been an insecure youth before, one who did not know the powers with which he trifled. How things had changed. Eros now understood Apollo’s pain and he had no choice but to bear the punishment his uncle was certain to give him. It would be a punishment well deserved.

  Eros had been sorry before, but now with Psyche lost to him forever, there was no end to his shame and guilt. There is no other torment like love lost.

  Apollo was now bearing down on Eros, the laurel leaves shading his eyes that glittered with pure hatred.

  “What do we have here? Is it really that misbegotten riffraff, Eros? At long last being punished, I see. I never thought I would see the day.”

  Eros did not respond but sat on the roof of the tower, sullenly looking down at the miles of earth that lay beneath him. Apollo’s horses sniffed and snapped at Eros, but the young god did not stir.

  “Hah, not so haughty without your blasted arrows, are you? Is it really true that you gave everything up for a human maid? I knew you weren’t the brightest of gods, but this quite astounds even my meager expectations.”

  When Eros remained silent, Apollo straightened behind the reigns, bored of the sport. “Well, perhaps, you have finally learned your lesson. People’s hearts should not be trifled with so carelessly. I have better things to do than play teacher. I can see Zeus has already done his part with you.”

  Eros realized with surprise that Apollo was about to leave. It was not like Apollo to go after so small a retribution. Before the sun god could vanish from Eros’s sight, Eros called back out to him. “Apollo, wait!”

  Apollo halted, surprised at the voice. When he saw that Eros had partially turned towards him, he continued to keep a tight hold of the reigns even though his horses were tearing to continue their journey.

  “What now?” Apollo sneered irritably.

  Eros struggled, knowing that he was opening himself to more ridicule, but needing to make amends. “You are right,” he choked.

  Apollo blinked once, then twice. “What was that?”

  “You are right. I should not have used you so often as target practice. For this, I am sorry. There is no pain worse than loving someone who does not love you back. I never understood this until I met her.”

  Apollo did not know how to respond. As the words began to sink in, he nodded, satisfied with the remorse in Eros’s eyes and mind. Apollo was about to urge his horses forward again when he thought of something and turned back to Eros. “Hold now. You say she did not love you back? How is that possible? Did you not strike her with one of your wretched arrows from hell?”

  Eros shook his head. “Manipulated love is the weakest. My arrows merely trigger love, but it cannot maintain it indefinitely. By simply avoiding the object of attraction, you can lessen the longing. Besides, I wanted Psyche to love me because she felt it, not because of my arrows.”

  Apollo dropped his reigns and leaned forward on his chariot. When his horses protested he shouted, “Silence!” in a voice that seemed to shake the entire mountain. When Apollo spoke to Eros again, his voice was lower but full of disbelief. “Do you mean to say that, if I had just avoided Daphne, the poison would have left me?”

  “The poison, yes. But the love may have remained depending on how attracted you were to begin with. If you avoided Daphne before you could develop true love, the pain would lessen. It would not have left you, but it would lessen.”

  “Avoid the most beautiful maiden to live and breathe? Easier said than done.”

  “Yes, I know. Especially for you.”

  Apollo frowned. “What do you mean? You think I am weak?”

  “Not at all. Apollo, I am not trying to pick a fight. It is simply that I always put you on the path of a maiden that would be especially desirable to you. You are so busy up in the sky, you never notice anything below. My arrows make you take notice, that is all. I always choose a woman whose attractiveness and mutual compatibility will make her impossible to resist.”

  “Well… how did you know which maidens would be so attractive to me?”

  Eros smiled enigmatically, but it did not quite reach his eyes. “You are my uncle. I have known you all my life. You like women who are intelligent, creative, and especially musical. You also like very feminine figures.” He added the last with a small smile. “And you’ve a weakness for the voluptuous.”

  Apollo paused for a moment, stared at his young nephew. Suddenly, he burst into laughter. The rare sound frightened his horses who whinnied and bayed violently. “Oh Zeus, how I needed that! So I’m that transparent, am I? Well, you’ve quite outdone yourself that last time. Daphne was nearly my undoing. I looked in her mind and I saw in her…. It was like looking straight into my other half. A missing piece of me.” Apollo blinked suspiciously, then his eyes hardened. “I would have torn your wings to pieces if I saw you that day.”

  “I’m sure I would have deserved it. But I did not know her father was so protective.”

  “Tell me,” Apollo sobered. “Why did she run from me?”

  Eros hesitated, shifting uncomfortably. “I struck her with an arrow of lead, to making her repulsed by you. But to be fa
ir, the repulsion was already very strong even without it.

  Apollo’s eyes looked conflicted and glittered suspiciously. “Why would she have been repulsed?”

  Eros saw the torment in the sun gods eyes and did what he could to assuage his pain. “It is why all women of sense run from us gods, Apollo. It is why Psyche fled from me. Our reputations precede us. We are not known for being the faithful, decent sort.”

  “Speak for yourself. I am capable of quite a faithful relationship. I never break an oath. I am always completely honest. True, I have never made a promise of fidelity to any maiden, so that could be where the problem lies. It is only because I always seem to tire of them eventually. But Daphne was different. I believe I would have wanted to marry her if she had given me a chance.”

  “You knew so soon?”

  Apollo’s smile was strangely tranquil. “You did not see what I saw.”

  “What was that?”

  “The most beautiful mind I did ever read, the most amazing songs, her thoughts like music, warm, giving, peaceful. She had the potential to be an amazing mother, a warm, generous lover, and a best friend. Only, I did not get the chance to sing back to her as she did me. Perhaps, it is best. The work I do has no space for that sort of love.”

  Eros stared at him, amazed that so much could be felt in so short a time. Was love different for gods with the gift of mindreading? There was no god better at reading people than Apollo, and with each mind he read, he could often glean their future. It was why he was also the prophet god.

  When Eros did not respond, Apollo frowned, knowing he was being judged.

  “And what of you? You would have tired of your Psyche in time, no doubt.”

  Eros shook his head.

  “Come now, a meremortal. Not even royalty, from what I hear. Daphne was the daughter of a powerful river god, almost as ancient as the Titans. Daphne and I would have been perfectly suited for each other. Two immortals united, the world would have rejoiced. This mortal girl would never do. She would be dead in a blink of an eye from something as small as a spider bite.”

  Eros thought of Psyche, and for a moment, had to slow his heart as the memory warmed his very being. A single mortal’s lifetime would have been a gift with such a creature. A few months with her had been Elysium. Eros finally had a taste of what he was giving the rest of the world. Love was worth every sacrifice.

  Eros tried to explain. “Love does not die with a person, Apollo. Love, true love, is something you carry with you forever. As long as I live, I will still love her. I will never love another.”

  Apollo’s smile was dubious. “How can you be so sure?”

  The solemnness of Eros’s eyes sobered Apollo who rarely saw such sincerity. Eros looked ancient suddenly. Older than Apollo. Older than Zeus. When he spoke, it was with a faraway tone. “How do you know that your horses will rise every morning to bid their journey across the sky? You are the god of light. You know your way around the earth; you can do it in your sleep. I am the god of love. I understand it, finally. And Love is capable of amazing things. It makes men out of boys, Apollo. It brings the hero out of all of us. Psyche makes me want to be a better person. She is the reason I desire breath. She is the soul of my heart. And she will forever remain the only woman that will make it beat. This I know as well as I know myself.”

  Apollo leaned back, unaccustomed to being so moved. The ardor of young Eros’s quiet but passionate voice stirred a sympathy he couldn’t believe he was feeling.

  “Zeus be with you,” he muttered, and then cracked his whip, causing the horses to pivot forward, continuing their journey across the world at full speed trying to make up for lost time.

  Chapter 24

  Aphrodite frowned at the vision on the fountain, the sound of her son’s voice causing her more and more frustration as she saw Apollo glide away.

  “As well as he knows himself...” she repeated with disgust, turning away from the fountain. “What does a boy know of love? He is but an infant compared to the rest of us gods, yet even Apollo was listening to that babble!” She turned back to the fountain. “Show me Psyche!”

  The waves rippled in the water as the foam revealed the woman kneeling before Aphrodite’s statue. Still there after two days without food or water. The child was a pitiful sight and Aphrodite knew she could wait no longer to punish the woman who had caused her so much grief, the one who had caused her to lose her own son!

  There were rules about attacking a girl in a temple. In a way, it was utter brilliance for her to hide there. Aphrodite couldn’t bludgeon her in own temple without Olympus knowing about it, and it would not be a popular move. People might fear entering and stop worshipping her.

  Furious, Aphrodite transported herself to the temple in Bromeia and smiled in amusement as she saw that the mighty “breath” of her son’s heart, Psyche, faint dead away at the sight of the newly arrived goddess.

  Aphrodite blew air into the maiden’s face to arouse her. The goddess of beauty was unreasonably annoyed that the blinking eyes that looked back were the color of a forest after it rained. Psyche’s eyes were disturbingly vibrant, and Aphrodite pushed herself away immediately.

  The goddess of beauty watched Psyche struggle to get back on her feet. Aphrodite clicked her tongue. “Imagine anyone thinking you could ever be the most beautiful woman. I’ve never seen anything so pitiful.”

  The voice was arrogant but musical with a slight accent that Psyche did not recognize. When Psyche focused her eyes, she wondered if she were dreaming. Before her was, by far, the most exquisite being she had ever seen. Her hair was a river of gold piled on top of her head like sweeping vines. The goddess’s eyes were a clear but frigid blue, like a noonday sky, that made Psyche feel like a gnat buzzing around it. The color reminded Psyche of her husband’s, only this woman’s were as cold as a frozen lake.

  “Cold am I? I’m sorry I cannot compete with my smolderingly handsome son. You do realize that he does not return your high esteem. He has already quite forgotten you. I have made sure of that.”

  For a moment, Psyche didn’t understand her. Then she realized that she had used the trick that Hermes used and had read her mind. The goddess knew just what to say to destroy her spirit, Psyche realized. But she must not let her win.

  “As sad as I am by this news, nevertheless, I would be happy if he has forgotten me if it means that he is well enough to forget. I only wish him happiness.”

  The answer irritated the goddess. It showed surprisingly good breeding and self-control that Aphrodite knew she couldn’t have gotten from her peasant upbringing. “Happy is a far cry,” she snapped. “No thanks to you, he is in quite a lot of trouble with his grandfather. I’m not sure if you’ve heard of him. Someone as vapid as you are must not have any grasp of true religion. His grandfather’s name is Zeus.”

  “I am familiar with my religion, Madame. I know who Zeus is.”

  “Well, what a shock. And yet you dare to continue defying the gods with your mere existence. A truly honorable maiden would have given up her own life a long time ago as a sacrifice. Yet, here you still stand.”

  “If I would be certain that my death would save him, I would do it in a heartbeat. I have no qualms sacrificing myself. I have done it before for my village when I waited for a horrible monster on top of a hill one blustery morning. I did not know he was your son. Just give me your word that he will not be harmed, and I will give myself willingly.”

  “Why give when I can just take? You forget who you speak to in this insolent way!”

  “Oh, Great Aphrodite, please forgive my insolence. I was not trying to be arrogant. I know you can kill me right now if you wish. But I understand that a willing sacrifice will give you greater honor.”

  Aphrodite’s eyes narrowed, realizing that Psyche was more knowledgeable than she realized. For a moment, Psyche wondered if this was a good thing.

  “You bore me with your endless chatter. The spilt blood of a baby lamb would give me more honor than you
rs. I don’t understand what my son ever saw in you. I don’t know what anyone ever saw in you. Look at you. You are as brown as a field slave, a bird’s nest has more order than that hair, and I daresay, more beauty. You’re wearing a man’s tunic of all things, stained and torn, more shameful than a prostitute. No one would ever think you could shine a candle to me now!”

  “No, divine goddess. I couldn’t. I never could. I do not know who ever suggested such a thing—”

  “Why, the whole town was in all agreement. Your mother was especially loquacious about it. I have a mind to see this whole place taken by a great flood!”

  “Oh, please, don’t do that! The people here, they are good. They are kind—”

  “They are offensive and blasphemous! They can all go to Hades!”

  Psyche fell at the goddess’s feet again and began weeping with new desperation. “Oh, please, goddess, please do not harm the people of this village. And please do not punish your son. I will do anything, anything you ask. You can punish me as much as you like. You could chain me next to Prometheus and have the buzzards eat me alive. You can feed me to a leviathan or roast me alive on a pyre, but please don’t let anyone else be harmed because of me.”

  Aphrodite looked down at the blathering, sputtering maiden, her satisfaction growing with every moment. This was exactly how she pictured this meeting in her mind. Standing over the conceited, arrogant Psyche right before she destroyed her. It was like a cat playing with a helpless mouse. There was no reason why she couldn’t have a little sport before the inevitable. She couldn’t wait to tell her son how cowardly and gracelessly Psyche looked before she finally met her doom.