by A K Clark
Elysium only permitted entrance to exceptional beings. I’d grown up hearing stories of Elysium and of those rumored to reside there. As I understood, mortals related to the gods and heroes could enter Elysium. I wasn’t sure being the Oracle to Apollo met the strict requirements, but I hoped, for Vero’s sake, it did.
Someone bumped into me, jostling my thoughts. “I’m so sorry,” I said on reflex.
“Murderer,” the woman whispered in disgust. My spine went rigid. Did these people have such contempt for me? Even after the order declared me innocent?
I apologized again, pulling back from the woman. Her hate-filled eyes caused me to stumble. I fell to the ground, landing on my knees, small rocks pressed painfully against my hands. I heard a few snickers from the crowd. Others whispered their concerns to one another, but none offered a helping hand.
They all just watched me, waiting for me to break down. Pride reared its head. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of watching me fall apart. I gritted my teeth and pushed myself up, holding my head high. I walked with purpose toward the weapons booth. It was the only place I was certain would be safe from the prying eyes and accusations, aside from the Magers’.
I took my time admiring the plethora of weapons, carefully tracing the lines of every knife, spear, and fighting stick. The minutes passed by without incident, thank the gods. There was only one set of inquiring eyes in this booth, those of the owner. He watched me take in his work, smiling as I paused over a particular set of fighting sticks.
The intricate snake design wrapped around the middle of the stick caught my attention. Fighting sticks, as I knew them, were traditionally smooth, sans design or decoration. The carvings on these were strategically placed where I gripped them.
The owner of the booth always found new improvements for the tools. I admired his passion. A different type of sadness washed over me as I held the fighting stick. I wished Hyri were with me. He hadn’t been in Delphi since he became a member two years ago. I missed his support, his lessons with weapons after dinner. He never ridiculed my fascination with them or defense training.
“Hasn’t anyone ever told you women aren’t supposed to fight?” a deep, amused voice said behind me.
A flush of anger crept up my neck as I whirled to face Theo. He wasn’t alone. Zeus and another man accompanied him. They were dressed in the traditional black chitons of the order. I debated over how to respond to him, but Zeus beat me to it.
“I’m pretty sure she showed you women can and should fight. Especially when you act like such an ass.” I smiled at Zeus and he winked at me. His playfulness countered my souring mood.
“Yes, I recall seeing a rather large stack of bloodied cloths when I arrived last night. You did that?” the stranger asked. The look he gave told me he didn’t believe I was capable of causing such damage. I steeled myself before I met his gaze, tempering my words from anger to disinterest, too tired to argue.
I flippantly gestured to Theo. “He asked me to spar with him. I broke his nose. Hopefully, he’s learned his lesson.”
“You assaulted a member of the order,” the stranger stated.
“Yes,” I said, slightly amused at his continued disbelief. The man appraised me, his gaze flicking over my body before meeting mine. “Is it so hard to believe?” I asked him, letting a bit of irritation fill my voice.
“I know better than to answer that question,” he said with a grin.
“Forget about that.” Zeus clapped. “Let’s not get into the battle of the sexes. Isaias, this lovely woman is Alex. Alex, this big scary man is Isaias. We’ll be training every day if you want to join.”
Isaias tilted his head, squinting at me. I had a feeling I might not be welcome to join the training. Zeus wasn’t wrong about him. Isaias stood taller than his father, Stefan, and as the master trainer, he intimidated me. I shared a look with Zeus, who nodded in encouragement.
Regardless of his role in the order, this man was a skilled fighter. He had the developed muscles which only came with years of training. I shuddered on the inside, thinking of facing him hand-to-hand. He held himself with a cool confidence, walking nimbly about the booth as I watched, studying the graceful way he carried himself.
He picked up a knife and threw it up before expertly snatching it out of the air. I watched with dismay as he released it once more, the hilt flipping over and over before landing in his open palm. Show-off.
“That’s a neat trick.” My voice dripped with sarcasm.
Zeus snorted. I flashed him a quick smile, appreciating the way he understood me.
“Isn’t it?” Isaias said, smirking at me before setting the knife down. I pulled my shoulders back, standing at attention while he appraised me, his eyes searching for a weakness.
“Well?” I asked.
He chuckled, looking back at Theo and his bruised face. “I’m baffled by that.” He pointed to Theo. “But also impressed. You’re not very big, are you?”
“I’m tall enough."
“Hm. And your muscles are sadly underdeveloped.” I jerked my arm from his grip when he picked it up for inspection. I’d grown proud of my strength. I might not have the rock-hard muscles of a man, but I was by no means soft.
“I have enough training to beat some of the men in my classes. I might not be as strong as you, but I can keep up.” I crossed my arms, preparing for rejection.
“Tomorrow.” Rich amber eyes met mine.
“Tomorrow?”
“Be there tomorrow morning. I’ll evaluate your strengths and weaknesses, then develop a plan. You’ll come?”
“Yes,” I said quickly.
“Good. Rest up, Alex. You’ll need it,” he said, smiling at my enthusiasm. I watched him saunter off, his confident gait calling the attention of the women bustling about the market.
“Don’t worry about him. He’s a real stick in the mud.” Zeus laughed loudly. I looked at him, confused. “You know, a stick stuck in the mud.” He gestured to the fighting sticks. “Women fight?”
I laughed at his imitation of Isaias. “You’re ridiculous,” I said with affection.
He nudged my shoulder. “You enjoy every minute.”
“Perhaps,” I said.
“He is traditional, Alex,” Theo said, inserting himself into our banter. “I’m not sure if he will enjoy teaching you. I don’t particularly like when women try to prove themselves and I’m not fond of the oracles taking defense classes. They made these jobs for men.”
I stayed silent as Theo chided me. I turned his words over. Why would he be annoyed with oracles training? We needed to be able to defend ourselves. Vero’s death solidified the point. When I failed to retort he left to follow Isaias. Fewer women turned to watch him make his way through the crowd, his scar intriguing to some and off-putting to others.
“Does that mean he likes me?” I asked Zeus.
“No, I think he is just indifferent. But, hey, at least he doesn’t hate you.” He dropped a kiss on my cheek before he left to catch up with his companions. I smiled at the gesture, watching them until they were out of sight. Only then did my body sag with exhaustion.
I’d only spent a short while in the market, but the constant attention and ridicule left me emotionally drained. My defenses were weak from working to keep dark thoughts out of my mind and ignoring the whispers surrounding me. Privacy had yet to come. I stayed in the market a bit longer before making my way toward the temple, spotting a growing crowd. Oh no, what now?
8
I neared the edge of the crowd. People shifted restlessly, like horses ready to run at even the slightest inclination of danger. Speaker Milo stood at the helm. I should have known.
“People of Delphi, this man has brought bad fortune upon our polis. He is a heretic,” he said.
The crowd rippled with discontent. I held my breath, knowing what was to come.
“I’ve been granted authorization to exile this Christian.” Milo spat the words. His disdain didn’t surprise me. Christians we
re fanatics, believing in one god. Many violently opposed this new belief. I thought it odd, a strange concept, one god with such power. But I had no hate in my heart for the people.
I made my way to the front of the assembly. I saw a man kneeling next to the speaker, his hands bound behind his back. Isaias and Zeus stood next to him, prepared to stop him should he try to run. Zeus frowned when he met my gaze. I sent him a questioning look. He shook his head, just barely, before averting his eyes.
“Do you have any last words before you are permanently shunned?” Speaker Milo asked.
“Please, my family. I can’t leave them.” The man began to cry.
“They may leave with you. We do not tolerate the perversion of our religion.”
“I’m not a Christian! I swear it. I just told you what I witnessed,” the man said.
“You have told me nothing.” Milo’s face grew red with anger. “You continue to lie to our people. Spreading your blasphemy. Get him out of my sight.”
“Wait, I swear. I would never forsake the gods. Please!”
The crowd began heckling the man. I strained to hear his pleas but they were lost in the commotion. I noticed a woman crying at the edge of the crowd. I made my way to her, pushing through the people following Milo and the now-exiled man.
“Is that your husband?”
She sniffled. “Yes.” She cast her eyes downward as though she was ashamed to admit it.
“Is what Milo said true?” I asked. She looked up, seeming surprised I would question the speaker.
“Milo said he witnessed Ewen praying to the false god,” she whispered. “I don’t believe him. Ewen would never forsake the gods.”
Just then a woman appeared. She pushed me aside and began comforting the woman. Upon seeing her friend, I was forgotten. I wanted to push for more information but I didn’t want to overwhelm the poor lady. I separated from the crowd, heading for the temple.
I don’t believe him. Her words repeated through my mind. It was hard to believe the speaker would exile someone unjustly, but the woman had been truly distraught. Surely if the man worshipped the Christian god she would have known. If he wasn’t a heretic, why would Milo lie?
“How will we work there?” Cora asked, interrupting my worries. She stood at the base of the stairs, looking exhausted. I pushed aside all thoughts of the exile, focusing on my friend. Her green eyes were red-rimmed, her hair carelessly braided. Cora usually only left the house after thoroughly inspecting herself. Grief overpowered her vanity today.
I shrugged in reply. I didn’t know how we would work in the chamber after what we’d witnessed. I failed in every attempt I made to block it out and pretend it never happened. We’d have to go in. There was no avoiding it.
The speaker would appoint someone to be Oracle of Delphi, or Pythia, within the next two weeks. The position could only remain vacant for so long. I looked at Cora, whose eyes glistened with suppressed tears, wondering if this temple would soon be her home.
Although being named the Oracle of Delphi was the greatest honor, I didn’t desire it like Cora did. Cora lived to be the Pythia. I‘d been jealous of the favor the Fates showed Cora a time or two, but I had a plan.
I was going to start a House of Divination providing foretelling of the customer’s choosing. Tea casting, or, if they were brave, a client could ask for necromantic prophecy. It wouldn’t be prestigious like being Pythia, but I would have what I desired most. Freedom. Thoughts of exploring foreign lands, learning new dialects, and discovering new food had filled my head for many years. Freedom would allow those dreams, my heart’s desires, to become a reality.
Naturally, I dreaded the appointment. If the speaker chose me, the House of Divination would never happen. I’d be confined to the polis. Never allowed to discover new places. I would not sit in the chamber, wasting away my days. If the speaker called my name, I’d run.
There was little accomplished by dwelling on the “what ifs,” I reminded myself. I glanced at the temple, contemplating how to begin this new chapter.
“We should start with smudging,” I said. Cleansing the space would chase away any negative energy that lingered.
“I bought bundles of sage and lavender to use this morning.” She handed me a bundle of the dried leaves tied together with twine.
Ilinor and Cicely stood whispering near the chamber. I tensed. Would they think we killed Vero?
Cora and I shared a look of worry. We were a united front as we approached them, refusing to be cowed by either woman. Cicely was harmless on her own but favored Ilinor more than us. The gods only knew why.
Our footsteps echoed in the great temple as we slowly approached them. Ilinor spotted us first, her smile dwindling into a scowl. Her features hardened like sculpted marble the closer we got.
“I’m surprised you two made it through town,” Ilinor said.
“Ilinor.” Cora barely looked at her before turning to the other woman. “Cicely, good morning. We are going to smudge the temple. We’d love for you to help.”
Ilinor’s eyes twitched in annoyance at her exclusion from the invitation.
“All right,” Cicely said, accepting the bundle from Cora. She glanced nervously at Ilinor before scurrying off to smudge the farthest corner of the temple. Smart woman. She avoided the wrath of Ilinor and offending Cora.
“I don’t want to fight today.” Ilinor struggled for her next words. “Can I—I mean—just give me the sage,” she said. Not a perfect way to make peace for the day, but it was a start. I handed her my bundle.
“Interesting,” Cora said, watching as Ilinor joined Cicely. “I expected more...I’m not sure what I expected, honestly, but it wasn’t that.”
“She’s trying to be nice,” I said.
“Right. Well, she failed quite miserably.” She quirked an eyebrow at me. “Shall we start?”
The four of us made quick work of the greater temple, smudging the parts within reach and letting the tendrils of smoke float up to take care of the rest. We gathered at the chamber’s entrance, each of us working up the courage to enter. We stood enveloped in a cleansing hug of sage and lavender until footsteps echoed throughout the temple.
The sound—tap, tap, tap—broke through whatever spell bound us together. I turned to see the speaker striding toward us. The exile. I had yet to explain it to Cora. Had they already sent the man out of the city? Had his wife gone with him? I frowned when he neared. I didn’t trust the man.
“I thought I might find you ladies here,” Milo said. “How are you doing? Do you need anything?” He closed the distance. “It is a shame, what happened.” He stopped in front of us and looked each of us in the eye. “What are you four doing here?”
“We came to cleanse the...” Cora’s voice broke. She bowed her head, struggling to compose herself.
“We came to cleanse the chamber to prepare it for the next Pythia. It is what any dutiful apprentice would do,” Ilinor said.
“I understand you are all dealing with some difficult emotions, but you truly honor Apollo and Vero with your dedication.” The smile he gave didn’t reach his eyes. “I must appoint one of you as Pythia. I will announce the chosen person tomorrow night. I’ve decided to hold an emergency meeting for the order and the candidates here in the temple. I promise the rush will not affect my consideration of who will become Pythia. I do not take this decision lightly. You are all exceptional.” He paused, taking a breath.
“The appointment is sudden, but Apollo’s truth does not wait for our hearts to heal. We will make the announcement during Thargelia. It seems appropriate to announce the new Pythia during the purification ritual.”
“Thargelia is in two weeks. Who will take care of the visitors until you announce the new Pythia?” Cicely asked.
“Ah, Cicely, a good question. The people will wait. We need to prepare the chamber and purify the polis before the Oracle of Delphi can resume her duties. I won’t let this miasma taint the new Pythia.”
“A wise decision, Sp
eaker,” Ilinor said.
“The chamber is the only thing left to smudge,” Cora said.
“Good. Thank you all again for caring for the temple. The meeting will be held tomorrow after sunset. Whoever is chosen will need to stay and meet with me after the announcement, so please come prepared to stay should you be picked.”
“We will arrive at sundown tomorrow. If you will excuse me, Speaker.” Cora bowed and stepped through the curtain. Her dismissal shocked me, but the speaker appeared unfazed as he watched the material sway.
“Right.” Milo clucked his tongue twice. “I will see you all tomorrow.”
Ilinor looked at me pointedly. “Your friend needs to remember her place. She has no authority to dismiss the speaker in such a manner.”
“Ilinor,” Cicely warned, “these two were here when it happened. I doubt either worry about what is proper.”
Ilinor glared at her but stayed quiet. I smiled at Cicely. She did her best to manage both friendships. She was peaceful and always smiled. She was homely, but her kindness made up for any lack of beauty. The complete opposite of Ilinor, whose permanent scowl and red hair made her fiercely beautiful.
The two entered the chamber, leaving me alone. Unease turned my stomach. I hoped Milo didn’t choose me. I wanted nothing more than to be far away from this temple.
There were no sounds coming from the chamber. My paranoid thoughts propelled me forward. I rushed inside to find Cora, Ilinor, and Cicely holding hands, standing around the tripod with eyes closed.
I stood quietly, not wanting to interrupt whatever connection they were working. Someone must have cleaned the room and lit a new fire because all signs of the struggle were gone. Blood no longer stained the wall; the traces of Vero’s death had been erased.
The fire crackled and spit at me from the small pit, taunting me. I forced myself to think about something, anything, other than Vero. My thoughts turned to training with Theo. It wasn’t a happy thought, but the opportunity to work with Isaias thrilled me. I hoped the master wouldn’t shun me from training.