Ambrosia

by Aaron Lee Yeager

  “Already approved by the Nótos arbiters.”

  “Hmph. And the groundbreaking soil has been sanctified with sacred oil?”

  “Um…no. I was unaware of…”

  “Unacceptable. Must I do everything myself?”

  Agaprei lowered her head in shame. “I’m sorry, I…”

  “You are wrong to scold her,” Storgen said.

  Fovos fizzled indolently. “What did you say?”

  “The task you gave her was impossible and you knew it. Not only did she complete it, but she went beyond the call of duty, going without sleep and even anticipating your needs beforehand. She deserves no aspersion.”

  “Storgen, be quiet,” Agaprei hissed through her teeth.

  “I was sticking up for you.”

  “Well, no one asked you to.”

  Fovos sloshed, ichor spilling out between black rib bones. “There was a time when she knew the personal name of every plant and herb on the planet. Even in her current form, what I asked should have been child’s play to her.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Interesting. Knives, I see that your prisoner is still with you.”

  Agaprei tried to retain her composure. “Um, yes…temporarily.”

  “I assumed you would have exchanged him for the reward.”

  “So you did know,” Kaia accused.

  “Of course I knew. I had to test her.”

  “A test?”

  “Yes, I was testing you, to see if you would chose him over me. I can’t have a champion whose loyalty is suspect. This was a test, and you failed, Knives.”

  Hearing the word ‘failed,’ Agaprei looked like she had been stabbed in the heart. “Great Fovos, if I have failed you, I beg your forgiveness.”

  “You ask in humility and meekness; that is pleasing to me, but how can I trust you when your loyalty is still clearly tied to him?”

  “I don’t understand what you mean. Are you referring to Storgen? Because he is just a prisoner, nothing more. I serve you, and you alone.”

  She bowed her head to Fovos, and Storgen could not hide the hurt from his eyes.

  Fovos gave a pleased gurgle to see it. “Then you may continue to abide with me, as you did in ages past.”

  She looked up. “In ages past?”

  He tilted his melting head. “Has no one told you? You are the reincarnation of Estia, Goddess of Medicine and my wife. He is the reincarnation of Tharros, the God who stole her from me.”

  * * *

  The cherry trees in front of Cinque Aleria were in full bloom, the delicate blossoms raining down and lightly dusting the awnings and the posh outdoor tables where happy customers dined on pastries and sweets.

  One of the trees began to grow, its bark and wood bulging into the outline of two people holding hands. The wood became green flesh, and Philiastra stepped free with Wei. She fought to stay standing as he worked his magic, putting the trees to sleep and weaving bathing suits for her and for him out of the fallen cherry blossoms.

  It was getting easier each time. Philiastra held onto the anger of the trees, let herself soak in their rage against the enemies of the forest, to those who would burn them and do them harm.

  The front door opened and Phyllis came out, carrying a tray of cupcakes. “Ah! Philiastra’s home!”

  Several of the regulars turned and greeted her, but she didn’t respond.

  The happy face of Gaetan appeared in the window. “Hey, sweetie, what a pleasant surprise! We weren’t expecting you for another month.”

  Her mother looked her over. “Oh, cripes, she’s not wearing clothes again. Sweetie, I thought we were past this.”

  “How was your trip, honey?”

  Philiastra ignored them as she gestured towards the rose pathway that ran alongside the café. “It’s this way.”

  Phyllis nearly dropped her tray. “Is that…honey, is that actually another forest nymph?”

  Philiastra lead Wei past Phyllis without acknowledging her.

  “Honey? Is something wrong?”

  Gaetan and Phyllis looked at each other in concern, then set down their trays and took off after them.

  The fluffy blossoms of the beautiful trees seemed to rise up towards heaven as they ascended the hill. Atop were the beautiful Singing Pools of Jenala. Radiant ponds of crystal clear water, playful coy fish majestically swimming about. Each time a cherry blossom landed on the surface, the water let off a silvery clear note. The pools rang like a natural instrument, the notes of the blossoms chaining together into a lovely melody of peace and tranquility.

  Philiastra found Gasper where he always was this time of day. There amid the soft sunlight and the natural melody, the lost and homeless of the streets had gathered to listen to the Conductor of the Pools preach the doctrine of Jenala.

  The sermon contained no words; the only sound the dulcimer tones of the pools as the old man preached with his actions. One by one, he ladled a bowl of soup from the pot he had prepared, and handed it to one of the waiting people. They didn’t thank him; they knew not to. He placed each bowl in their hands, smiling at them beneath bushy white eyebrows, and let them eat in silence beneath the lovely trees.

  Philiastra had seen it a thousand times, enough for it to become commonplace for her, yet the scene was so picturesque, she was reluctant to break the silence as she and Wei approached the pools.

  Gaetan and Phyllis caught up, huffing and puffing.

  “Sweetie, what’s going on?” Phyllis asked, as her husband coughed.

  Gasper looked out at Wei with his old, tired eyes. “Ah, the son of the chieftain.”

  “So you do remember me. I wasn’t sure if you would.”

  “I’ve been dreading this day for so long, sometimes it feels like all I ever think about. Yet, now that it’s finally here…I’m not sure what to say.”

  Sensing the tension, the crowd of people respectfully made their way back down the path.

  “Honey, what is this about?” Phyllis asked. “Who is this?”

  “I am Wei of the Alithinó Laó, the true people of Dasikí Chará.”

  Gaetan became excited. “Another refugee.”

  “Refugee? I am a survivor of what you humans did to us.”

  “Did to you? Dad, what is this about?”

  Gasper held out his wrinkled hand. “I believe Philiastra deserves to ask.”

  Philiastra looked at her grandfather, her face full of righteous indignation. “Is it true?”

  “Yes, it’s true. I was the village leader, it was my job to look after our people. I had a good relation with the chief of the forest nymphs, his father Wenham. He even had tea in my house once…”

  Gasper sat down at the edge of a pool. “But that was before the Rending Fever came. It hit our children the hardest. We had no healer of our own, so I brought in apothecaries from nearby islands. None of them could do anything. I tried to contact Jenala, but she had been called away to answer a summons from Ferranus, and could not be reached. The fevers got worse, most of our women fell ill. Even our best medicines had no effect. I spent nearly every drachma we had bringing in potions from other lands, but nothing worked. The men had to care for their wives and children night and day. There were too few to tend the fields, and our crops died. We knew we would have to leave Dasikí Chará, there would not have been enough food for the winter. I signaled our regional governor, our district magistrate; I even went to the capital itself. They said they’d process our claims and get back to us. None of them ever did. By the time I got back, only a handful of our people could even get out of bed. Even alchemy could not cure the fever.

  “We had to leave, but we were too sick to leave, and even if we hadn’t been, no cargo ship would have allowed us on board for fear of spreading the disease. And so, I turned to my one last hope, our allies, the forest nymphs. It was said that their leaves could cure any illness, no matter how severe. You can imagine what Wenham said.”

  Wei balled his fist. “I don’t have to i
magine. I was there. He denied you outright.”

  Gasper stroked his long white beard. “I asked again and again, I pleaded with him. I asked if perhaps each nymph were to volunteer one single leaf, that that might be enough. He might have accepted that compromise, but he had been feuding with the other elders, and my request only made it worse. They refused to let me meet with him anymore, and threatened to end my life if I returned to the forest’s edge. I went back home, and found Gaetan and his young wife Phyllis very low, their bodies so consumed with fever, I could barely register their breath, or find their heartbeats.

  “Then the fires came, those awful, dreadful fires. Our dry fields went up like tinder, and there were so few healthy men that when the flames reached our houses, we failed to remove many of the inhabitants in time. I listened, working as fast as I could, as house after house went up, the people inside too sick to scream as they were burned alive, and I swore in my heart, that if there was any way to save my people, any chance, no matter how slim, any method, no matter how dark, I would take it.”

  Philiastra stepped closer, to the edge of the pool. “And then what happened?”

  His bushy eyebrows raised. “My prayers were answered. The fires had been started by the Centaurs; their army was tearing across the island. When the forest nymphs fled to me, I did something so horrible I can scarcely say it.”

  Gaetan looked horrified. “Dad, you didn’t…”

  His white eyebrows fell. “I did what had to be done. I harvested their leaves, and I saved my people.”

  Phyllis covered her mouth. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this. How could you do such a thing?”

  “This is terrible. Unspeakable. Unforgivable. Dad, the forest nymphs were our friends.”

  “Don’t you think I knew that?”

  A sour note rang out from the waters, followed by a second, and a third. They all looked and found Philiastra crying, her tears falling into the water.

  She gasped for breath, and more tears fell free, the bitter notes stringing together like a funeral dirge, the mournful song making the nearby trees shudder.

  “So, it’s true, my own grandfather killed my people.”

  Phyllis began to cry as well. She stepped closer to embrace her daughter. “Oh, honey…”

  “Don’t touch me! Don’t any of you touch me!”

  Philiastra backed away, her legs weak, her eyes shivering. “I don’t know what to feel about any of this! My entire life is a lie. Everything I’ve ever known is false, everyone I’ve ever known has deceived me!”

  Gaetan shook his head. “We didn’t know anything about this, honey.”

  “But you benefitted from it! The medicine saved your lives, and that medicine was made by killing my friends and family! You are drenched in their blood!”

  Phyllis covered her mouth, tears streaming down her face. “Honey, I…”

  “I said, get away from me! I’m so confused. The man who read me stories at night is a freaking butcher! My mother and father only live because of fiendish treachery! Every memory I have feels like a lie now. Every moment feels like a fabrication. I don’t know what to feel. I hate myself for ever having loved you. It makes me feel like a traitor to my people. My heart feels like it’s been torn apart a thousand different ways. You have all been nothing but kind to me, but now, when I look at you all I can see is the corpses of my tribe. I can practically smell the stench of their deaths on all you!”

  She turned to her grandpa. “Why? Why did you take me in?”

  “The cure worked quickly. We signaled a ship and took everyone who was left to escape. The centaur army was drawing closer every day. As I made one final trip to the beach, I found, near the edge of the forest by the docks, a young nymph lying half dead, beaten by what I can only assume was a centaur club. Next to her, there lay a centaur captain dead, an arrow through his eye.”

  Philiastra reached up and touched the large scar running beneath her leafy hair.

  “I ran to her and scooped her up to see if she still lived. When I found faint breath and a weak heartbeat, I was so relieved I wept openly. I swore in my heart that my family would care for you as if you were our own daughter, to make up in some small way for what I had done.”

  “You honestly think that taking in one child makes up for slaughtering all that was left of my tribe?”

  “Of course not. Nothing can make up for what I did.”

  Philiastra kicked a loose flagstone, causing it to splash loudly into the pool. “I can’t stand the way you speak about it so casually. This was genocide and you treat it like it was no big deal. Do you even regret what you did?”

  “There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t feel guilt for what I did. But do I regret it? No, I don’t. I regret that I could not find another way in time, I regret that what I had to do was bloody and wicked, but no, I don’t regret what I did. My children were dying, my people were dying. I was their leader, I was responsible to protect them, and I did what I had to do to save them.”

  Her hands erupted in blue fire. “You monster! How can you even say that?”

  “I say it because you asked. You deserve to know the truth. What I did was unforgiveable, and I will feel guilt every moment of my life, but a guilty conscience is a small price to pay to save the lives of my people. And if I had to do it over again, I would.”

  She punched a statue of Jenala, knocking it over. “And how am I supposed to react to all of this, huh? I find out that the man I thought was my grandfather slaughtered my people, but he did so to save the lives of my parents. And I love my parents, but the only reason I love them is because you adopted me after murdering my real family in the first place. I hate you for what you did, and yet a part of me feels grateful that you saved my mom and dad. So does that mean I benefitted from the massacre just like they did? JUST HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO REACT?!”

  He stood up. “I made peace with my decision long ago. Philiastra, now that you know the truth, if you wish to avenge yourself upon me, I won’t stop you. You are well within your rights to take my life. I am guilty as charged.”

  “As if your one life could possibly atone for as many as you took!”

  “No, it cannot, but it is the only life I can give.”

  She stepped closer. “You know, I just realized something. You were the one that put it into my head the idea of learning alchemy. Humans can’t learn it, but someone with their own connection to magic can. You wanted me to make medicine for your son, didn’t you?”

  “The leaves of your people cured the fever, but in many cases, the damage caused by the disease remained. My son was stricken, and I bankrupted myself trying to keep up with the payments for his care. So, yes, I did hope you would become an alchemist for that reason.”

  She stepped back, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks. “So, even in that you used me. Do you have any idea how much pain I have endured for learning that black art? Do you have any inkling what the trees think of me when they see me, when they see this mark of darkness upon me for wielding alchemy?”

  She looked her parents and grandfather over with tearful eyes. “Was any of it ever true? Was I ever a member of this family, or was I just some thing to be used, like my fallen kin?”

  Gaetan reached out for her. “Of course you are, honey. You are my daughter, and I have loved you with all the love a father can give.”

  She stepped backwards, nearly stumbling. “How can I believe that anymore? After so many lies, how can I believe anything? My world is completely torn apart. I don’t know what’s real anymore. Am I even awake right now? Is this a nightmare and I’m going to wake up soon? Or is the life I had with you a dream, and only now I’m awake for the first time?”

  “Honey, please, I know this is hard for you; this is hard for me and your mother as well. Tomorrow we’ll pack our things and move away, find a new place, far away from this place and your grandfather. For now, let’s just go inside and sit for a while.”

  Her eyes wavered. “No…no I need to g
et away from you, from all of you.”

  Phyllis ran to her. “Sweetie, please…”

  Wei stepped before Philiastra, blocking her from them. “Let her be. This is her decision.”

  Philiastra wiped her face and turned to the old man. “Gasper Thavma, you may have been my grandfather once, but not anymore, and not ever again. You are a human, an enemy to the forest, and I am a forest nymph. I defend the forest. If we ever meet again, we will be enemies.”

  He bowed. “I accept your decision.”

  “Don’t speak to me, human!”

  The way she said it made her parents jump. There was so much hate behind that word, as if it were a curse she had just cast by uttering it.

  Philiastra turned to leave.

  “Honey, what about us?” Gaetan called back.

  She stood there, her body shivering. “You are also humans. I…I don’t know what you are to me now. I don’t know anything anymore. Just…please leave me alone.”

  She took Wei’s hand, and the two of them began to merge into a tree.

  Phyllis held out her hand. “Philiastra, wait! Don’t go!”

  As her body became one with the trunk, Philiastra gave one final backwards glance.

  “Goodbye.”

  And then she was gone.

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  The third level of the Underworld has no name, for only those condemned to its torment or foolish enough to explore its realm can comprehend the madness made real that exists there. Naked souls futilely attempt to conceal themselves in a freezing mire, violent storms buffeting them back and forth across the void like tumbleweeds, a ceaseless foul icy rain, a great storm of frigid acid. And yet their suffering is beyond even this description, for while the flesh can numb and the body can dull, the soul is incapable of feeling anything but the full, undiluted pain to which it is exposed. A moment of unbelievable suffering, of unyielding shock and sharpness beyond anything the mortal mind can comprehend, stretching out for eternity.

  - Excerpt from the writings of Syrias the Seer, Forbidden Apocrypha