Title: Of Men and Monsters
A/N:Written for sm_monthly, theme myths/fairy tales, prompt "cult". The usual Lytton warnings apply.
The silk is soft against her skin, and the young woman knows that this garment is worth more than the village they hailed her from. She's terrified of getting it dirty, of seeing the white fabric stained by mud or dust, so she clutches the skirts in her hands, lifting them up just an inch to make sure that they don't touch the ground. The priest that was sent to fetch her told her she was part of an important mission, could save the kingdom and now here she stands, draped in the temple's finest, and more nervous than ever before. A maid has braided her hair, adorning it with precious gems and gorgeous flowers. There is even a ring on her finger, heavy gold with a glittering red ruby. She has never seen anything like it and is terrified of losing it. She always looses things.
"Fear not," the priest says, and Calypso tries to smile. He was so kind to her, and now she's causing him so much trouble. He's only a year or two older and they laughed so much on the journey here. He told her stories about the village he came from, about his friends and about all things under the sun except for one thing: what made him think that she could be the one to save them all. But his trust in her seemed absolute, and she already considers him her friend.
"I don't want to disappoint you," she says, and the worry lingers in her blue eyes. He looks to the floor, and she knows she has already failed. He should have picked Psyche; her friend is so much more graceful than herself. But Icarus had only looked at Psyche once, a single long hard look, and then sent her away without flinching. Maybe she should tell him about Psyche's ability to dance, to sing, to play the harp? Icarus looks up again and there are words on his lips, but before he can speak, the great doors are opened by no human touch and the high priest appears.
Icarus reaches for Calypso's hand (still with the skirt bunched up in it) and squeezes it once, pressing the ring into her skin. It hurts, but just a bit because he lets go of her when he high priest clears his throat. Icarus attempts to smile, falters, and Calypso feels as if someone had pushed her in a lake in the middle of winter. She likes Icarus, trusts him, which is why seeing fear in his clever eyes affects her more than it should.
He's gone in a heartbeat and the high priest beckons her to enter the temple. Calypso drops her skirts to the floor: the temple looks dark and the high priest solemn. She doesn't know much, but she's well aware that this isn't good.
When Kastor steps out of the temple, his ceremonial robes hidden under a black cloak, Icarus is already waiting for him on the stairs. Sitting down beside his friend, Kastor sighs. "You're piss drunk, aren't you?"
Icarus hiccups. "I saw another girl in the village." Kastor closes his eyes. "Don't tell me-"
"She was perfect. Utterly perfect. Quiet, graceful, but with fire and feeling in her soul. A better sacrifice could never be made, but I couldn't do it, so I picked her friend instead. I walked her here, Calypso, chatting with her while thinking over and over again that she would die because I -" He falls silent and toys with the bottle in his hand. There is no sound around them: people are still hiding, they do not yet know that the monster has been pacified for another three years.
Kastor reaches for the bottle and takes a swig himself. "I will send Zephyr next time." The laugh that escapes Icarus' lips is bitter. "Yeah, that will solve the problem."
"Icarus, it is for the greater good."
"Do you think she's dead by now?"
"Yes." The lie lingers between them, and then, under the hot afternoon sun, Icarus begins to weep.
Once upon a time, there was a monster that roamed the ancient lands. It preyed on the innocent, tearing them to pieces and making the world a worse place with every drop of blood that hit the ground.
But in times of turmoil, there is always a hero that knows what to do. Sometimes a sharp blade and courage will do the trick, and sometimes deals with the devil have to be made. Kastor was smart enough to know that no living man could kill the monster, it was too strong, too fast and too vicious. So Kastor went into the nearest village and asked the men there to build a temple, one that dug deep into the earth. The villagers, knowing Kastor as a man of great wisdom, complied and soon a majestic white temple was raised in the middle of the forest. Kastor then told them to hide for seven days and seven nights and once all the innocents were safely hidden in their houses, he called for the beast.
It appeared on the third night, ready to sink its teeth into human flesh and howl with the moon. The events of the night are a secret, nobody knows what happened, but on the morning of the fourth day, Kastor told the people that they could leave their homes again: safety was once again restored.
The monster would only come to them every three years now, and, if given a worthy sacrifice, it would leave them alive and hide in the temple until it was time to move on.
There is a thing most people don't realise: monsters, like heroes, will die when their time comes. Kastor has seen ninety winters when the eternal sleep calls for him, and the monster follows him, for their fate was always one and the same.
After him, it is Icarus who leads the woman into the temple, and when Icarus passes away during a wild and drunken dance on an autumn evening, Zephyr accepts the task. Two sacrificed women and six long years later, Zephyr has followed his friends and only Nereus remains, too old and frail to lead someone down the thousand steps to the hidden lair but too stubborn and afraid not to . Of course, Nereus has no idea that the lair has been empty and unvisited for years, so he leaves the girl there with a heavy heart and makes his way back up. His heart gives up on the thirtieth step, never to beat again.
But the people still remembered Kastor's words, and every three years, the temple is opened and a woman thrust inside. They no longer walk them down the stairs: the beautiful and innocent now have to find their own way in the darkness.
The End