The Gift From Poseidon: When Gods Walked Among Us (Volume 2)

by Ginegaw, J. A.

  Abarah’s battered hip would eventually heal. Although forever weaker than the other, it held together enough to allow the birth of Taharqa, and then his sister, Shepenupet, nine years later. Although medics were horrified that she conceived less than a year after this tragedy, Abarah delivered Taharqa just fine.

  “Your chariot, Mother!” Shepenupet squealed. “Tell them about your chariot!” Ixchelene now held Yishuo and Shepenupet snuck to her other side. All three linked arms and gazed wondrously up at Abarah.

  “I was just getting there.” Abarah threw the trio a wink. She then wheeled around so all could see the grandness that made up this marvelous machine. “I will never run again, of course, but it is better than nothing. It took a good bit of practice to teach my front legs to do all the work, but I eventually learned to trot again with it.”

  Abarah was certainly not the first Centaur to lose her rear legs. Many centuries earlier, inventors had devised and built a clever carrier that looked much like a converted chariot. But that was then. Zarathustra and Hezekiah making it so, this one was special. Simple, yet ingenious, a solid sphere of hollowed bronze wrapped in a thick layer of leather below its undercarriage instead of wheels on each side made steering near effortless.

  “Maybe because they move so slowly on land, Mermaids seem to take a special interest in me – especially Andromeda.” Abarah pointed at the mural attached to the rear of her chariot. “Each summer festival, she presents me with a newly painted mural.” Abarah beamed despite the tears that now turned her honey brown eyes a subtle shade of orange. “I cannot even begin to tell you how overjoyed I was the first time she did so! Perseos carves this piece of lacquered wood she paints the mural on in the perfect size and shape to fit onto the backend of my chariot.”

  As if they were now seeing it for the first time, everyone gasped. This one was of the setting sun’s rays painting the tips of the five tallest towers in Lacanesia a glowing orange.

  “Splendid scenes of the Pillars of Fire one year,” Abarah gushed, “a pod of frolicking Orcas the next – I love that she does this for me! If I had never lost my legs, who knows if we would even speak to each other. Now, I don’t mean to brag, but once Perseos fits on my new mural, I just cannot help myself! For the rest of the day and well into the night, I prance around the shared city and show everyone Andromeda’s brilliance created just for me.”

  “And she is not the only one,” Nüwa broke in, “who gets to decorate Abarah’s chariot. In a bid to outduel the other, Carolinica and I hold a special ‘contest’ each year. During the winter months busily weaving and sewing a quilt worthy of our dear Abarah – here they are!”

  Having snuck away, Carolinica now rolled a handsome chest into the room and threw open the lid.

  “But, but,” Abarah stammered, “I was just getting used to the ones you made last year!” Everyone howled at this. Taharqa walked over to the chest, took out each stunning quilt, and held them up.

  “Well, Mother,” he teased, “which one will you choose this year?”

  Shepenupet stomped over to her brother and gave him a swift kick to the front leg. “You know she cannot pick which one she likes best, Taharqa!” the youngling lectured. Viracocha had never seen her so mad and could not help but chuckle at this. Seneferre wrapped his tree trunk sized arms around Shepenupet and dragged his still kicking daughter away.

  Not so happy about his sister’s well-aimed kick – tiny hooves are still sharp hooves – Taharqa passed the quilts to Carolinica and limped to where Adamarcus, Fu Xi, and Persepolis giggled like little ones themselves.

  “Shepenupet is right!” Abarah blurted as she blushed. “I cannot – nor will I ever – declare a winner. And although it is not yet my birthday when you usually give them to me, I happily accept.”

  Carolinica handed a quilt to Nüwa who then draped it over her old one on the left side of Abarah’s chariot. Carolinica then did the same with the other quilt to the right side.

  *****

  Aside for the sun rising, Viracocha knew of but one other absolute. Upon the crack of the coming dawn, Abarah would visit every one of the four prefectures in Lacanesia to show off her newly gifted quilts. Just as she does in Antediluvium when given her mural. Lightning, rain, snow, maelstrom, drought, earthquake, volcano – none of these would stop her either tomorrow or on that lucky day come summer. For a Centauress who cheated death and suffered crippling injuries to do so, Abarah lived her life with flair and purpose and inspired all those lucky enough to cross her path.

  Especially, this pipe smoking, crusty old Olmec who loved them all.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  SECOND IMPRESSIONS

  No one loves being a Mermaid more than me, but even I must admit that winter is pure torture for us. The other nations seeking shelter underground during this darkest, coldest of seasons, we Mermaids must do so undersea. Aside for the many temples that provide food and warmth, our beloved sea becomes our prison. That we can force ourselves into a state of semi-hibernation to pass the time is our one saving grace. But spring is now upon us once more! Many of the changes my Queen Mother promised would come have arrived, but I am still the same Evagoria all met last spring. At least I hope I am.

  – Evagoria, Mermaid Princess

  – Mid-Spring, Year 4,254 KT[35]

  For a day so grand, it all seemed rather dreary. Rains that had bombarded Terra Australis for a week still stained the avenues where many dozens of Gryphons and horses currently marched east. Some Mermaids rode atop Gryphons, but many more rode in horse-drawn carriages. Evagoria looked up and frowned. The skies above were greyer than Queen Marseea’s eyes and thunder roiled aimlessly about the heavens. Charges of lightning to the south she just now noticed finally brought a smile to her face and swept away the gloom of these drab surroundings from her mind.

  “You still promise you will be tolerant of my friends, yes?”

  Evagoria knew Zacharias did not wish to hear such words, but he really had no choice. Adamarcus, Taharqa, and Persepolis had saved her from the Yeturi two seasons before and that was that.

  “I do, Princess, but this promise does not stop me from cursing the ancient Sapiens who molded us with each passing day.” Zacharias lifted one talon high off the ground and held it up. Gryphons unable to wield missile weapons such as bows and arrows, Evagoria laughed at this.

  “Oh, my dear friend, many of us would not mind having such fine talons! Mermaids do not have legs, yet do not fret we cannot run. Things such as these that make us different ensure that each of our kind treasures the other. I do not think we would share such a tight alliance if not for these shortcomings. I adore my friends and always will, but they are just friends. You are family.”

  Today the first day of studies, prince and princess were part of a long procession of young Mermaids and Gryphons on their way from their prefectures to the Sapien palace. The procession now at a standstill, Zacharias carried Evagoria to the front of this caravan of tailed and taloned brilliance. At the steps of the palace, she leapt off her saddle, pulled out her walking sticks, and leaned in close to her future protector.

  “And if the day ever comes when I have to,” Evagoria rubbed and kissed the side of Zacharias’ face, “I will always choose my family over my friends.” She said these words with confidence, but only because she could not imagine such a horrid day when she might have to make such a choice.

  *****

  Close to two hundred students now gathered within the walled confines of the royal gardens. Same as they had on this day last year, Evagoria watched as every first-year Gryphon inspected and stared in awe at the Golden Clepsydra. As if a Gryphon herself, Evagoria sighted and then snuck up behind her prey.

  “I was told I might find three heroes here somewhere, but as I look about, I am starting to wonder if I have been misled.”

  Adamarcus, Taharqa, and Persepolis spun around. Evagoria grinned wide and spread out her arms, but the trio she smiled at just looked at her blankly. They were each a
bit taller, of course, as was she ––

  But what were these silly stares?

  After a number of clumsy moments that dumbfounded her, she threw herself at them. As if Evagoria was the lightning that had so delighted her on the way, she shocked the three out of their trances and they warmly embraced her back.

  “Are you ready for another year, Princess?” Persepolis asked.

  As she nodded eagerly, Adamarcus leaned in close.

  “I have never received so many gifts or such good ones for my birthday,” he told her. “Especially for the quiver and those silver arrows, I can never thank you enough.”

  Adamarcus bowed low, took her hand in his, and kissed it. Evagoria could only blush as she looked over at Taharqa and Persepolis.

  “Well, you did play a part in saving my life!” she told him as he let go of her hand still trembling from his touch.

  “Hopefully the first, second, and third-years will still be kept together,” Taharqa mused as Evagoria noticed him inspect the many students gathering around them.

  “It’s been that way for as long as I’ve been here,” called a familiar voice. “Cannot think of why Marseea would change it now.”

  Fu Xi gave them all a welcoming smile. This one Evagoria liked. The hopeful other who stood behind him she did not. In a clumsy sort of way, Evagoria gathered Yishuo was pretty enough, but she was also a fool. A shockingly fleet-footed one who had somehow tricked Fu Xi into desiring her, but a fool nonetheless.

  Noble creatures – Centaur, Mermaid, no matter the kind – did not court foolish creatures and they MOST CERTAINLY did not marry them!

  Evagoria threw Yishuo a warning stare. Confident blues challenged unsure browns. Victory never in doubt, only the margin, the hesitant Centauress backed up a few paces, swept her long pitch-black hair behind the right ear of her lowered head, and pawed nervously at the ground. Yishuo then began to fiddle with her thumbs, but kept her head low as she did so – as Evagoria knew she would. The four males not versed in female tactics, she was sure they failed to notice any of this as they busily chatted with each other.

  HA! Even better, none of them even appeared to realize Yishuo had sheepishly wandered away!

  Queen Marseea and Komnena finally revealed themselves. To Evagoria’s delight, Hezekiah – with Penelope atop him – strode alongside the two Sapiens. She dearly hoped the other two historians might be teachers as well this second year and they indeed would be.

  *****

  The fulfilled hopes of that first day, however, would only lead to disappointment in the days to come: The start of Evagoria’s second year turned out to be nothing like the first. There were no grand performances, no unveiling of ancient treasures from days long past. Instead, each day of studies unfurled in but one of two ways: boring or unbearably boring. These dull days annoyed Evagoria to no end, but drove Adamarcus near insane – he complained constantly. There was, however, a somewhat sane method to Queen Marseea’s madness. At least it sounded logical when she explained herself nearly a month into lessons.

  “Please don’t cast a spell on me for asking this, Headmistress,” Persepolis said carefully, “but why have our studies been so, well … dull?”

  Marseea appeared more amused than insulted by Persepolis’ question. She inspected the four friends one by one and took in a deep breath.

  “The Summer Games approach and I have barely half of everyone’s attention let alone all of it. This has only become worse with each passing day, but I have come to see it as a good thing.”

  This confused Evagoria and she tilted her head.

  “As I have never had so many students who will take part,” the queen continued, “I have tried to tailor our studies around them, but now realize this is folly. So starting next week, we will all train for the games. Those to compete will get extra practice and those who won’t will simply have a bit of fun.” Marseea rubbed the Heart of Terra Australis hanging from her neck and snickered. “As much for me as for them. When we return, however,” she looked right at Adamarcus, “I will stretch your mind more than Zarathustra ever did!”

  True to her word – shocking considering she was a Sapien – the students did just as Queen Marseea said they would.

  And with complete disregard for mercy!

  Those who would compete in runs both long and short ran until they dropped. Mermaid and Centaur archers trained until fingers bled from the fletching of their arrows. Gryphons wrestled each other until every muscle ached and Arachna threw their axes into wooden targets until so many chips in these targets splintered them into nothing and they had to be rebuilt.

  Every student exhausted, beaten, and bloodied, the summer festival and games finally drew close. Evagoria and her fellow students desperate to escape the clutches of their headmistress; as the teaching season was less than half over, she would soon steal them back. But Marseea could not do so until Evagoria had gamely vanquished all in her path.

  Especially Adamarcus.

  Chapter Thirty

  A PATH BECOMES HER

  Cassiopeia knows. How she looks at me, how her eyes meet mine, my great-grandmother knows those ghoulish talons inside me have begun to scratch. I relive in my thoughts that horrid day when illusions of selfish grandeur came dangerously close to murdering my friends for but one reason: to teach myself how to control the wicked tempest brewing inside. It whimpers weakly most days, but the day when these whimpers turn into screeches that will scrape the sky like scythes is on its way. And when this day comes, it will be Cassiopeia from whom I plead for help first.

  – Evagoria, Mermaid Princess

  – Mid-Summer, Year 4,254 KT[36]

  To soar just below the clouds made Evagoria uneasy, but to do so inside a spacious sky chariot at least made flying bearable. A quartet of Gryphons led the golden carriage they now rode in. She never before had the courage to look straight down, but as if a moth drawn to flame, she felt the compelling need to do so now. Evagoria’s fingertips gripped the curved edge of the sky chariot. Outstretched arms still kept her head a bit from the edge, but bit by bit, she pulled herself toward it. The wind whipping at her face more and more, she lurched closer … closer.…

  “For the one on the path to queenship,” a stern voice said suddenly, “every stone on this path is a fear that must be lifted, polished clean of its filth, and re-laid.”

  Startled, Evagoria slid back to the center of her seat and bumped up against Penelope.

  “When you lift the stone,” her Queen Mother continued, “you realize the fear it represents. When you overcome this fear, you may then polish the stone.” Diedrika looked toward Penelope; Evagoria’s eyes followed. “And just when, our sweet Penelope, can this stone be re-laid?”

  Penelope raised her chin high, cleared her throat, and turned to Evagoria.

  “When you, our future queen, believe beyond a shadow of a doubt that you can look others in the eye who are afraid of whatever fear it is you have conquered, and then, not with a command nor even a spoken word, they see your confidence in perfect clarity. They will desire for this confidence to be their own, grip onto your resolve, ride your courage now theirs as well to overcome this fear. All will do so not because you wished it upon them, but because they wished it upon themselves so as not to disappoint their queen. Only once these things happen may you re-lay the polished stone in the path that is the stony sum of your fears.”

  “Only many years from now,” Cassiopeia added, “will you know how far this path travels, how many stones lay along it. Although we often see fear as something bad, for the most part it is not. The purest of all emotions, fear sharpens your mind, makes demands that strengthen you, forces you to adapt, improvise, and overcome when all seems lost.”

  Her great-grandmother’s next words made it clear she knew Evagoria’s inner torment had already begun:

  “To inspire others, our Gift from Poseidon, is merely to reign. To master the great power that dwells deep inside you, to bring all under your banner not because yo
u wish it, but because they do – this is to rule.”

  Evagoria nodded her understanding and slowly rose. The wind brisk, she had to lean forward so that this wind did not blow her back into her seat. Or even worse, off the rear of the carriage. She moved to the gap between Diedrika and Cassiopeia, gripped the carriage front, and pulled herself onto the ruby red seat. She then leaned over the edge and looked straight down.

  “Wow,” she drawled after gazing at the sweeping world below them. “I can see the northern edge of Antediluvium! But the size of a toy, it must still be some leagues away.”

  Forests great and small dotted the rolling prairies of Lapith Fields. Wide swathes of wildflowers near every shade of purple and blue swayed in the wind while wisps of golden grasses blanketed everywhere else trees and flowers did not. She also caught sight of Centaurs galloping in the direction of the shared city.

  Evagoria lifted herself off the cushion and immediately found herself in the grip of her mother. Diedrika kissed her cheek and lifted Evagoria onto her flukes; the wind then tossed her back into her seat.

  “That wasn’t so bad now, was it?” Penelope asked playfully.

  Evagoria shook her head and smiled. After many moments of joyful silence passed, she just had to ask: “As the greatest queen ever, I would not think so, but often do wonder – is there anything you are afraid of?”

  There were times when her mother rewarded Evagoria’s awestruck stare with the proudest of stares in return – this was one such time. Every time before when Diedrika had done so, Evagoria immediately knew why. Until now.

  “There is.” Her mother’s face morphed into one of hard resolve, but her next words were soft and dreamy. “The single stone in my path is near impossible to move. Each time I look upon this stone, it blinds me as would to look straight into the fully risen sun. Just to wonder if I will ever overcome it, with the fury of the howling winter wind, this fear bites at me each time I do so. A blade with no handle my soul on its bravest days grips tight, it cuts freely, deeply. My one, great fear is that I will not be the teacher, the leader, the mother our Gift from Poseidon deserves … that your divine molding demands.”