leo reyna calypso
Amorcito mío, a mi lado estás
Luna de plata, agua de cristal
Ya podré olvidar el cruel dolor que me hace llorar
Y contenta estaré con mi amor mío en lago azul
The dark liquor burns as it flows down her throat. Teeth clenched, withholding a grimace, she lets her head fall into her hands. Rarely would she falter from the image of strength she so carefully constructed, even in the safety of solitude. However this time… this time she could lose the only thing that means anything to her. Everything to her. Her heart lurches at the thought of it. These purple wall, her purple walls, covered with another's maps and memories. The weight of her armor-plated shoulders was a weight welcomed and without it she felt amiss. New Rome, in its entirety, was the only home she knew, or at least wanted to remember. The barista at the café knew her order and her timings. Her shortcuts, marked by a Pegasus's wings, guided her to meeting on time if Octavian's complaints kept her too long. For gods' sake, she had a designated tree no one else dare encroach on. And while it buried itself in her heart, the pain of leaving. It is not what truly scorns her. The much stronger, much more potent ache spread all throughout her body. The pain of letting down her people, of not being an apt leader. This was what had captured her at 2:57 am with thoughts that wouldn't stop. She needed sleep, but whatever she subdued during the day found her at night. Where had she failed, what duty had she not fulfilled, what had she not sacrificed for New Rome. These thoughts consumed her until she finally drifted into a fitful sleep.
" The smoking ruins of New Rome glared back at her, almost accusingly. Up high here, by the sacrificial altar, the air was clean, free of the stench below. But she knew the stench wasn't the worst thing, no she had seen too many dead bodies to be worried about the stench. Midst her reverie, a delicate voice coughed deliberately. Reyna turned to face whoever was there. Gwen stood at the end of the worn out path, facing her with a strange expression. This would have been all too familiar a year ere, but they had bonded during the preparation for the wars. "A chamber has been called," Gwen paused, carefully considering what she is about to say, " The Galerii are calling to have you excommunicated as Praetor." Gwen tensed as her words hung in the air, as cold as Reyna's demeanor. To an untrained eye, the shocks of her words seem to have glided over Reyna, who stared passively at the Senate house. But Gwen knew better. Reyna tried to calm the racing speed of her heart. Steadying herself, she nodded in response and began to walk down the hill, to what could be the end of her.
All noise was silenced by the sound of the chamber doors hitting both sides of the wall. Reyna's footsteps echo against the gold veined marble. She walked to the pedestal in the center. The auditorium is filled with sullen faces. Members of the congregation waited in a pregnant silence, aware of the sudden and bold proclamation made by one of the most respected bloodlines in their community and history. This was a drama worthy of Accius's pen. Tension hung in the air like wet cloth, and the members, all alike in that very moment with their lost loved ones, freshly minted blood marred memories, razed by the battle that proved an admirable adversary of this colony, recently demolished city that is their home. They were all waiting for a breeze, a light, to guide them as their ancestors had been guided many moons ago. At the head of it was the praetor, the one that needed to set herself on fire in order to be the light her people needed. She looks drained, her armor and clothes proof of the war she just fought. However, her immaculate braid stays just that. Not a hair out of place. Her voice lifted the curtain of silence in the stage of her performance. "It has come to my attention," she spoke with clear intentions of power, this needed to work effortlessly, "that a few members of this congregation question my ability in serving my state. These individuals have called for my removal." The faces in the crowd gave away the conspirators and the observers. One a direct enemy, neither a friend. " As we all know, New Rome is no dictatorship. As a leader, it is my responsibility to listen to the concerns of my people. So I wish to request all those with something to say to speak now." She paused, giving them time to prepare for the act they had practiced. A jostle in the crowd revealed the one chosen to put forth the agenda of his family. A slender, elderly man with a strong aquiline nose and calculation in the wrinkles around his brow. Just as he was to begin his tirade, Reyna pulled her first hand on the table. Public speaking, charisma, the social side of ruling were never her forte. However, emphasizing her strength as needed was a skill she possessed proficiency in. " Against any folly, ploys, or misleading defamation, I reserve my right to defend my honor." A ghost of a smile passed over the lips of a ghost of a girl at the poorly hidden shock and contempt on her regal competitor. " Proceed," she commanded, awaiting the long hours to ensue.
Hiding from her wouldn't make it any better, but it still let him believe that this was a figment of his overactive insecurities. Too many nights spent in the presence of toxic oil fumes that, if inhaled, caused mild paranoia and restlessness. No matter the lies he whispered to himself, whatever he was prolonging would eventually find him. And it came in the form of a certain cinnamon haired goddess at 2am. She had finally found him and it only took a glance at the look on her face that Leo surrendered. He always could read her so well. She walked up to the forlorn boy, already aware that he knew, slipped the gold band off her ring finger and placed it on the worktable next to him. The girl reached towards the boy in a gesture that would have become a hug if she hadn't thought better of it. And as quietly as it had happened, she left, leaving a shell of the boy that was. It was only after his eyes were dry and puffy, his lips red and swollen that he realized she had left a letter along with the ring. Ripping it open, he saw that the stationary was nice and her handwriting orderly. That meant one of two things, that she had written it after carefully planning it and knowing Calypso that planning was months back. Or the words she wrote didn't affect her to such a high point. Both made him feel like shit and what was written inside didn't help with his mood.
The results of her abrupt trial passed through New Rome through hushed whispers at first and later in a carefully worded address by the very center of this controversy. Reyna knew the announcement was simply a formality, but it made everything much more real for her. It was no longer a bad hallucination; the sentence would not be lifted. And while she knew the riots were the last thing her bleeding home needed, they gave her comfort. Her people wanted her to stay. So why, in two years time, would she be removed? The reasoning given simply flew over her head, and not because of overconfidence or cockiness, it just didn't make sense. The putrid odor of politics surrounded the whole situation, but right now she was focused on repairing New Rome in the limited time she had. They had politely suggested she look to the outside on where to go after she steps down, but the suggestion was just an act. They wouldn't let her stay, for god knows why. Reyna let her headrest on the cool, marble table and drifted back into a fitful sleep.
The fire hadn't started with the drapes as stated in the firemen's incident report. No, it had actually begun with the pile of vanilla hued knit sweaters and pictures of the two of them after the first war. Younger, happier, still in love. Well, he was still in love. As for Calypso, he didn't know if the same could be said. Continuing with the very interesting and very cautionary tale of how Leo's entire apartment caught on fire, he came to the realization that he forgot the velvet duvet that smelled of her moonlace and vanilla scent. And her books, the ones not important enough to be taken with her when she fled in the middle of the evening after shattering what was once Leo's heart with a look and handed him the ring he toiled over for more than any other invention. Even motherfucking Festus, a godsdamn mechanical dragon. Then the entire apartment became her. The spot where he had pushed her against the door and let his kisses brush every part of her. These throw pillows she bought in order in add her touch in what had become their home. Everything smelled of her, seemed like her, the ghost of her memory still rushing out to the terrace to water the plants cause she forgot this wasn't her island sometimes and that her plants depended on her for survival. With that, Leo set fire to every part of this until he sat in smoking ashes of what was his life. Was it the best idea? No. Was it the safest idea? No. Was it the best way to deal with… you know what this could continue for a while. But also, was it a heartbroken son of Hephaestus with a restless mind and an even more restless fire. Yes. And that's what they tend to do. Long story short, Leo is now a recent ex-fiancé with no house, a shit ton of debt towards his landlord, and no fucking idea what to do.
Dear Leo,
I'm sorry. And that's all I can say right now because it's all I know. That I am deeply, truly, irrecoverably sorry for this. I just, I have no excuse, but this is what I need to do and it has been so long since I've been able to be selfish. Cursed to fall in love with everyone that couldn't love me back, it's like something out of a myth. Yet you loved me back, you returned for me. And though I am eternally grateful all you've done, and for you, I have to go. Because there is so much I have to do. You may have taken me off the island, but you didn't save me from it. Only I can do that. Once again, I'm so so sorry. Please understand.
Love
Calypso
The words of the letter are imprinted in the drops of ink that mar her hands. She grimaces, feeling like she has no right to be upset, none at all. But she is leaving behind two years of her life that were worth more combined then the rest of it… so far. So far, the words and the fantasy brought by them that caused this. The possibilities drove her absolutely insane, thoughts of everything else that could be. There is so much more, a realm of adventures. Her love for Leo, it's real but it's not her ending. Finding herself is the priority, and romance can't be a part of life right now. Maybe in the future, who knows what will happen, but for now she bid him farewell.
The airport looks daunting, a shining escape in the dark night, she entered breathless and hopeful.
two years later
Reyna broke down. Silently