“Although a few months shy of thirteen when she started, even I found Diedrika to be intimidating! Every word spoken in a veiled arrogance, to sense such power building inside such a young creature was invigorating! In a terrifying sort of way.…”
As would a toddler enjoying a good tickling, Evagoria giggled aloud. “Oh do tell me, Headmistress! Please tell me about my beloved mother! I yearn to hear stories of her when she was young like me. Surely you must remember something memorable that she or Father or Grandfather or Penelope has yet to reveal to me.”
With another laugh, Marseea stared off to her left. Evagoria followed this stare and both pairs of eyes soon settled on a large rectangular dueling pit.
“Countless grains of sand in that dueling pit have witnessed hundreds of duels. Some more memorable than others; two decades ago, a single one foretold a sliver of the future. Because this tale also involves Adamarcus’ father, the current Chiron, I believe you will find it most fascinating.”
Evagoria realized at once that Marseea knew she had spoken with Adamarcus earlier in the day. As she had barely seen her headmistress until now, she wondered how the queen could have seen them.
If she did not see them together, did another tell her? And if so, why?
Despite the current show of warmth toward her, Evagoria did not think cold, cunning Sapiens cared about such things. Marseea now sitting alongside her, she no longer cared as well. A rush of excitement coursed through Evagoria’s body and she quickly slid as close as possible without landing in the queen’s lap.
“Spring instruction in year 4,232 – that would make it nearly twenty-one years ago – had begun just a few weeks earlier. Although our current Mermaid queen excelled at all she attempted; in those days, she was quiet, reserved. Diedrika seldom spoke, but when she did, everyone around her hushed. Waiting for her words as if their next breath depended on them – never one to disappoint, their lives sometimes did!
“As the daughter of a regent,” Marseea continued, “I was of course Diedrika’s primary tutor. This was not so much by design, but by demand. Aside from Komnena and me, she cared little for any other tutors and was not afraid to let them know. At fifteen years old, a single event during the first month of her fourth year was simply a preview of her greatness. Greatness she expects not only from herself, but every Mermaid.”
Excited to hear a new story, Evagoria rocked back and forth. Dazzled eyes grew ever wider as Marseea continued. She both loved her mother and was in great awe of her. To suggest she worshipped her would not be so far from the truth. So powerful, so celebrated – Diedrika often showed her daughter much the same love and respect. In short, Evagoria swelled with pride in knowing that such greatness boldly bid her into this wondrous world.
“As you know, Andromeda has been considered one of Atagartis’ finest artisans for decades. Once Diedrika admitted that she owned not a speck of the sculpting or artistic skill of her mother, some thought it wise to bully her for it. Oh, how I pity the fools still! I will never forget how your mother warned a snobbish Mermaid who cruelly made fun of her.” Marseea stood up and pointed to the center of the fountain. “On the other side of this very fountain, the bully sat on its edge with a few friends while Diedrika was by herself in front of them. I was off to the side a bit. Finally hearing enough of their taunts, your mother bronze-made this fantastic weapon. She then twirled it in her hands and chastised the older bully into a terrified stupor!
“‘Despite your mockery,’ Diedrika told this bully with supreme confidence, ‘I am not bothered by such foul words in the least. It is true. I possess nowhere near the creative skills of the queen who birthed me. But of this, I care not. For when it comes to bronze-making, I choose to focus on the skills needed for combat and warfare. And I say to you now, pompous swine: Upon your head reaching the bottom of the sea by way of my spitefully crafted ax, only then will my artistic talent be on an equal footing with your headless body.’”
Mouth agape and its bottom half crashing into her chest, Evagoria breathed out a stunned laugh. “That is most certainly Mother! As you saw this, how did you handle such a scene?”
Marseea returned the laugh and could barely contain herself.
“Well … not meaning to at all, I practically stopped – not only this bully’s heart cold – but each of her friends’ hearts as well. ‘I think it is time we practiced dueling!’ I shouted.”
Now doubled over, Evagoria nearly slipped headfirst into the fountain. “You could not have said such a thing!” she howled. “Did you pit Mother and the shameless bully against each other? Tell me, Headmistress, tell me – I am dying to know!”
“I did one better,” Marseea chimed back after she whittled down her own laugh. “I paired her against the current Chiron! You most likely do not know of this, but although Diedrika stayed clear of Arachna, she did allow a handsome second-year Centaur to grace her presence: Adamarcus’ father, Alexander. This duel, as you will soon hear, was as if destiny foretelling the future. It foretold of your mother’s combat prowess and, well, at least I think this, it gave Alexander a sense of confidence he never had and carries even to this day.
“Gryphons and Mermaids gathered on one side of the dueling pit; Centaurs and Arachna stood on the other. Close to a hundred students now surrounding the pit, I waited until all eyes focused on me. Already knowing the first pairing, but unsure of the reaction I would get, I stepped into the pit. ‘Diedrika and Alexander will duel first!’ I announced quickly. With no hesitation, Diedrika calmly glided into the center of the dueling pit. Alexander, on the other hand, stood frozen among the other students outside its border. Pushed into the pit more than entering on his own, he appeared beyond nervous. As would an Orca sneering at its next meal, she stared him down. Our current kings my students then; Judiascar and Achaemenes watched with their own. The already massive Gryphon king, of course, watched much more intently than did the Arachna one. Intertwined, winding paths that he and Diedrika would eventually tread upon, he stood ready to step upon the first stone.
“‘Choose your Gryphon, Diedrika!’ I ordered. No more of an invitation needed, Judiascar immediately leapt into the dueling pit. His grand mane standing on end and strapping chest puffed out, he let out a screeching growl. Their grins met and she heartily accepted. ‘Your paws and claws are to stay on the ground, Judiascar!’ He smiled slyly at this. Diedrika’s palms came together and produced a faint glow.
“‘No bronze weapons!’ I warned. ‘Only wooden swords and shields!’ Diedrika muttered her displeasure with shrugged shoulders. On the other side of the pit, I noticed Alexander let out a relieved sigh. Every Mermaid but your Queen Mother protested these wooden weapons for good reason. I only admit this because I know the outcome, but it was far from a fair fight. Although nearly two years younger than Diedrika, Alexander weighed three times what she did. Judiascar, in this case, was her ride and nothing more. Now, in a true battle, if a Centaur suddenly rushed a Mermaid, she would bronze-make pikes and just impale him. A Gryphon to ride would be helpful in a field, but in this small pit, not so much. Diedrika had to have known she was at a disadvantage, but carried on as if she could not care less.
“The chimes of the Golden Clepsydra rang out the first of nine bells to announce the ninth full turn of the day. As this first chime struck, a few of the older students who had heard the rumblings from the dueling pit wandered in our direction. Next, as if wildfire spreading throughout a rain-starved forest, every one of them sped toward us. Before the clepsydra finished chiming, they had all gathered around! The scene overwhelming – that just describes those who now stood outside the dueling pit! Future kings and queens, historians and generals; they all gawked at Diedrika and Alexander as if these two were their overlords and they merely subjects before them.
“Xavier and Artafarnah, the current Gryphon and Arachna generals, stood next to their future kings as if they already knew their generalship awaited them. This was either their last or second to last year of teachings �
� I cannot remember exactly which. Last, but not least, I laid my eyes on your father. As Diedrika readied to do what only she could, Theodoric stared at his future wife. In awe like everyone else – did he have any clue it would be this Mermaid he would win the hand of? Could any have known that their future union would bring forth our precious Gift from Poseidon? Probably not. But in our world – as you will soon see – who does?”
As awestruck as one could be without losing consciousness, Evagoria looked dreamily at the now empty dueling pit as well. “I can see them, Headmistress, I can,” Evagoria cried. Her voice sounded as if equally half in the past and half in the present. “Just as you reminisce of a day from long ago, I am by your side! I am watching as well!”
Marseea nodded slowly, again sat down next to Evagoria, and turned to face her. Even if the queen had not taken more than a few quick peeks at it, she knew that her diamond-shaped birthmark showed off her thrill to hear this grand tale. It was warm and Evagoria could feel it swell.
“How your mother acted at the onset of this duel – it was simply stunning, young one. Diedrika dressed in her armor swiftly and with purpose. Alexander did so as if stuck in the most miserable tree sap. With a hop twice as high as needed, she leapt atop Judiascar and buckled the bindings of his saddle. They then re-entered the pit. ‘Same as with Judiascar, keep your hooves to the ground, Alexander!’ I warned sternly as he more stumbled than stepped back into the pit. Eyeing the weapons and shields tossed in front of them, he rushed to snatch his up as if lava burned under his hooves until he did so. She looked at hers calmly before Judiascar bent down and she casually scooped them up. The shield around his forearm, Alexander gripped his wooden weapon with both hands as if trying to strangle a snake. Diedrika twirled hers in a single hand as if petting an eagle ready to devour this snake.
“Komnena and I shared the most nervous of looks. ‘Perhaps we should move this spectacle to the arena at the center of the city!’ she quipped. With a returned smirk and unsure of why I started this in the first place, I gave the go ahead. Right away, Diedrika snapped Judiascar’s lead and he bolted straight for the stunned Centaur. Gawking stupidly at this charge, Alexander stood in place as if a frozen statue; only at the very last moment did he duck out of the way. Your mother having stolen the lava scorching his hooves just a moment before, it now burned bright inside every corner of her being.
“She on the attack; shockingly, Alexander fended her off. Despite this unexpected defense, most of us felt sorry for him. He appeared so overmatched. Atop Judiascar, Diedrika was easily quicker and more skilled. Despite her pressing offensive, your mother could not land a decent hit as Alexander nimbly repelled every swing of her sword. Finally, more luck than skill I think, he whacked her on the top of her arm with his wooden sword. Not just a touch – he hit her hard! This deafening smack silenced the cheers now racing around the pit. Diedrika stopped Judiascar cold and then looked at her arm already starting to bruise over in disgust. Next, her eyes became narrow slits and her focus burned like a single point of blinding light. From then on, although emboldened for the moment, Alexander simply had no chance.”
Evagoria was now nearly sitting in Marseea’s lap. She rubbed her arm as if she too had felt the smack of the wooden sword. Great excitement happily coursed through her body and her birthmark burned as if on fire. As if excited along with her, the Heart of Terra Australis the queen proudly wore each day owned a soft glow.
“With a flurry of strikes – at least a half a dozen times – Diedrika must have hit him with either her sword or shield. A whack to the knees, then one to the shoulder, then another to the side – her last one was flush on his rump! She spanked him like a stern mother would a naughty child, Evagoria! A gaggle of misses on Alexander’s part … and then it happened.”
Marseea leaned in close to Evagoria. Their faces were but a whisper apart.
“Alexander bolted at her in a maddening rush. His sword coming down from a missed strike, Diedrika whacked it so hard with her own that it flew up into the air and landed in her free hand. Your mother then rounded toward her side of the pit, unbuckled her bindings, and flipped out of Judiascar’s saddle. Landing perfectly on her flukes, she angrily threw Alexander’s wooden sword in front of her.”
Once more, Marseea leapt to her feet.
“‘But Princess, you must ––’
“‘AWAY WITH YOU, GRYPHON!’ Diedrika shouted at Judiascar. In shock, he scurried to the back edge of the pit. Her eyes as if torches, she directed their emerald flames in Alexander’s direction. She then did the impossible. The sound that came from this single palm was not so much a scraping sound of warning, but a screeching song of triumph. With the brightest of glows, from her one palm Diedrika bronze-made a short sword.
“Did you hear me, child? Your brilliant mother bronze-made a weapon in a way none had ever done before or any aside from her have done since!” Marseea’s voice turned quiet, almost reverent. “In one bold stroke, Diedrika forged her legend from a single palm and thrust it upon our world.”
So proud of her mother, Evagoria was ready to shed tears of joy in her honor. But as the story was not yet over, these tears would have to wait. Gasps and wide, wondrous eyes would just have to make do for now.
“This bronze-made short sword in her left hand,” Marseea continued in her normal voice, “the other hand still held her wooden one. Legions of stunned gasps from every direction smashed into the equally stunned young Centaur.”
As Marseea said this, Evagoria brought her own hands together and a glow hummed between her palms. She looked at them in awe, as if seeing this for the first time.
“Diedrika wedged the wooden sword’s point into the ground and with a single swing of her bronze-made sword snapped the wood one in half.
“‘Come on, pretty pony! I KNOW YOU CAN DO BETTER!’
“A massive chorus of shouts and clapping erupted to cheer her on. Every Mermaid and Gryphon jumped up and down in glee. As for the Centaurs and Arachna – well, I did not know so many beings could stand so still. Chants of ‘DIEDRIKA!’, ‘DIEDRIKA!’ rang in all our ears, but no doubt loudest through those of Alexander. Amongst all this, I do not believe one creature, including myself, expected him to do what he did next.
“He too stared at Diedrika in awe. But our suddenly brave Centaur did not cower, did not flee, did not show a hint of fear. He stood his ground and refused to take even a single step back. Eyeing Seneferre, really, how could you miss the already hulking Nubian, Alexander scampered to him. His sights were set on the real sword and shield Seneferre held to his side. Alexander grabbed them angrily once his closest friend offered them to him. True weapons in hand, he stomped back into the middle of the pit. Seneferre then turned to his right where the rugged, rough-edged Viracocha looked at him with disdain.”
Marseea took in a huge breath to summon her deepest, most stern voice to mimic the sculpted Nubian. “‘Do we have a problem, Olmec?’ Seneferre asked blankly. Viracocha said nothing, of course. He was hopping mad, but not in the mindless sort of way.
“Daring Alexander to come at her, Diedrika bounced from side to side. And he accepted the dare willingly. Arms in hand, our hopeful Centaur charger stampeded toward our Mermaid heroine in a vengeful rage. Bronze-making a shield with only her free hand, they stood ready to clash with, for the most part, the same weapons. I do heartily admit – a supremely confident young Mermaid and a noble Centaur bent on revenge with sharpened weapons did cause my heart to skip a flurry of beats.”
“Did you use magic to stop them?” Evagoria begged as if out of breath while she fidgeted in place.
Marseea shook her head calmly. “I did not have to, young one,” she replied quietly. “More to the point, I did not have the chance. Magic dust in hand and a spell ready to stop them, I so wanted to see what would happen next, I could not mouth the words. And I am the happier for it. In a flash, my child, Diedrika’s greatness was assured.”
Amazed eyes focused on Marseea’s thoughtful gaze
. Evagoria was again practically in the queen’s lap.
“To this day, I have replayed the move in my mind countless times. Her quickness, Evagoria – it was otherworldly. After an overreaching miss as she bounced to the side, Alexander began to spin back around. As he did so, his back to her, she rolled to the ground. By the time he had fully turned around, not even a hand away, she was upright and directly in front of him. In an instant, Diedrika grabbed his breastplate from its bottom and jerked it toward her. She then angrily pushed her sword underneath this breastplate from the bottom and shoved straight up. Its point,” her excited tone turned quiet once again, “slammed flush into the bottom of Alexander’s chin.”
“Oh no, the poor Centaur,” Evagoria gasped miserably as she imagined this happening to her new friend, Adamarcus.
Evagoria felt both spellbound and distraught. Her mother’s boundless skill swelled her heart while the horrific injury the young Alexander must have suffered tugged at it. Having only seen the Chiron from afar, she tried to imagine what such scars left behind might look like.
“As I know Alexander still lives, how badly did the blade injure him? Oh, Headmistress, there must have been blood everywhere!”
Despite this concern, Marseea just chuckled.
“Well, young one, this is where cunning turns to disbelief, fact into myth. No need for the swollen crimson around your eyes to show empathy for Alexander; you see, there was no blood at all – hardly an injury. Upon dropping to the ground, your amazing mother threw away her bronze-made sword and picked up his wooden one she had earlier flung down in front of her. This sword is the one she shoved upward behind his breastplate. All in one move, she spared his life and earned the fearful respect of all who witnessed it.”
“Wow …” Evagoria let out in a long, drawn out drawl. “You tell the story brilliantly, as if I was there with you – yet I almost cannot believe it!”
The Gift From Poseidon: When Gods Walked Among Us (Volume 2) Page 17