Chapter One: Delusions Are Delusional
My name is Amarante (Ah-mah-ran-tee) N. I bet you are wondering what the 'N' stands for. Let me give you a hint. I'm Greek. Well, technically I'm Greek American; but Greek all the same. The 'N' stands for Nikolaidis (Nee-koh-lae-diss). I don't much like telling people that name because no one seems to be able to spell it correctly. What does this have to do anything? It has to do with the plot of this book, actually. Or, in other words, the reason my personal fairy tale ever occurred. However, I am going to warn you. If you think this is your typical, run-of-the-mill Prince Charming story, you are completely out of your mind. I can tell you right now that reality tends to be darker; much darker than bunnies with big, sparkling eyes and a princess who can make birds clean her room with a song. I had to clean my own room, and I certainly would compare this relation with Charles Dickens or the Brothers Grimm. Anyway, I digress…
It started one particular summer morning, in a town populated with only a few thousand people—Noontown, California. Haven't heard of it, right? Now you see the point of this. I was nobody from nowhere, and certainly not anybody people would go out of their way to be involved in. My mother was giving me her usual lecture about my cultural origins and the meaning of my name for the umpteenth time ever. I sat quietly at the breakfast table in the kitchen across from my sister, eating my cereal.
"Amarante is the feminine version of amaranthus! It's a grain, and was thought to be an ever-blooming or immortal flower!" My mother said, shaking both hands as though she was trying to emphasize the point through her actions.
I spooned Cinnamon Toast Crunch into my mouth, trying to tune her out.
"Amarante! Don't you even care?!"
I sighed.
"Momma, I love amaranthus. I mean, look at my hair. I dyed it red; totally red."
I ran a hand back through my unruly, scarlet hair. It was neck-length, straight, and wildly all over the place. I'd styled it myself.
"The way you look now doesn't tell anyone about your culture," my mother said, and regarded me with stern brown eyes.
"The point is, you need to learn. Honestly, you and your little sister as so unconcerned."
Said sister, Anemone, choked on a mouthful of her own cereal. She burst into fits of giggling. She also fancied her hair colored for her name. Anemone was a black and purple poppy flower, and her hair reflected it perfectly.
"I am concerned," I said, and sighed again. "But we also live in California, remember? It's a long way to Greece."
"You don't need to be in Greece to appreciate your heritage," my mother said.
"I think I do," I said. "That's why I'm going."
She dropped her dishrag back into the flooded sink.
"What did you say?"
I shrugged.
"I'm turning seventeen. I decided that I should take a trip over there, if you'll let me. Anemone's going to Germany, so I thought you could call my trip an early birthday present. It would be educational and informative, right? At least, that's what you want."
My mother beamed, and clasped her hands together. She reached for my face; probably to plant a kiss on it.
"Oh, Amarante!"
I was supposed to stay for a week. My mother loaded me up with baggage, and numbers of various relatives in case of an emergency. Next thing I knew, I was braving the uptight airport security. I could scarcely believe they let me through, even with the various fashion accessories upon my person. I had a hair bow, bracelets, rings, a necklace, and lace-up leather boots. Among those, I had mountains of other outfits and make-up packed. I was admittedly fashion-obsessed. No one would ever catch me looking drab; not even on the other side of the world.
The flight accomplished little more than making me sick and psychotic. I had been seated next to a particularly talkative old lady, who did nothing but talk for ninety-nine percent of the way over. It wasn't that she didn't have anything interesting to say, but rather that I became frustrated and exhausted from her constant stream of words (especially since I couldn't get a single word into her accurately-deemed dictation). I didn't sleep for five minutes on that long voyage.
When we landed, I had plenty of issues navigating around the Athens airport. I did not know modern or ancient Greek, so there was a solid language barrier delaying me from the baggage claim. I don't remember quite how I did it, but I managed to get there and to a taxi without much consequence. My hotel was in the picturesque Greek countryside just outside of Athens, so the drive did not last too much longer. By then I was so exhausted I wanted to collapse in the dirt and die.
The driver helped me carry my enormous amount of luggage into the hotel lobby, waited for his payment, and departed. I hadn't the faintest idea what to do next, so I wandered into the hotel restaurant and ate some linguine. Then I checked in at the front desk.
"Is there anything interesting to do close by?" I asked, enunciating my every word in case the clerk did speak a little English. I was pleasantly surprised.
"Depend where you want to go," she replied in a strong accent.
"I'm not sure. Could you give me some examples, please?"
"There ruin, there hot spring…"
"Hot springs?" I perked up.
"Oh, yes. One kilometer."
"Where are they, exactly?"
She thought for a moment.
"There path, I think… Down front step, left side." She pointed towards the entrance.
"Okay, thank you."
"We have map," she added, and handed me a large slip of paper folded into sections.
"Wow, thanks!"
I figured hot springs would be very soothing after sitting upright in a stiff plane chair for so many hours without sleep. I could relax my muscles, and start off the trip with a spa-like treatment. Though I could hardly stand, I could handle one kilometer if it meant a trip to the hot springs! I found my luggage and called on a bell boy to help me take the lot of it upstairs to my room.
Afterwards I dug through it seeking my bathing suit. I had a red one-piece; not too fancy since I didn't expect to run into anyone out there this late. I changed and put on some red flip-flops, and snatched a towel from the bathroom. I wrapped it around my slender body while I glanced at the mirror. I scowled at my reflection. My eyelids were heavily lined with black, and my lips as red as my hair. My hazel eyes contrasted starkly against them, to the point that they seemed almost yellow. It didn't help that I was bleached like a white sheet. I looked like such a vampire. I was a fashionista for sure, but a dark one. My clothes were always vintage-styled, and often red or black. No wonder the people at school had problems approaching me; I looked evil.
"They wouldn't guess that I save even cockroaches from washing down the drain," I said to myself, and headed for the door.
I hadn't realized that I'd be trekking into the forest to find the hot springs. Past the entrance steps, the crooked path led right into the deep woods. At nightfall, the woods were horrifying and foreboding. The moon hung high, spilling pale beams of light across the emerald leaves of olives and citrus, which were at the edge of the forest; then the path gave way to taller trees and denser foliage, which made visibility near impossible. I'd be hiking downhill on a path covered with small boulders and bark that a klutz like me would trip over. But somehow I could not give up on the idea of that hot water on my aching muscles. I had to find the springs, even if I tumbled and broke my head against a rock.
It was worse in my flip-flops and towel. Bark got under my calloused feet and branches and brush snagged into my hair. I reminded myself how much of an idiot I was, yet trudged onward, having gone too far to turn back. I perched on a boulder in an attempt to read the map. There was a sliver of light coming in through a crack in the tree above me. I made out the path in the corner, and followed it along the paper with my eyes. I resisted clapping my heels together, discovering that I only had one more turn to go around before I got to where I needed to be.
I folded the map back up; probably incorrectly on the account of how sloppy it looked, then decided to skip the rest of the way. One of my sandals flipped off and landed in a bush, and I had to hop one-legged over to retrieve it. The last bend was obscured by a huge boulder and trees, so I couldn't see if I was going in the right direction. Hastily I carried on, eager to just be done with it all.
Finally, over some patches of dense undergrowth, I saw steam curling up and through the trees. I was ecstatic. I'd discovered the hot springs. Soon I'd be soaking and happy and refreshed. Or, so I thought…
"Yes! I did it! There's the spring and--"
Right on the verge of leaping into the pool, I stopped dead in my tracks. I heard a soft splashing, which became louder. A shadowy silhouette rose in the center of the pool, and moved towards its bank gradually. As it emerged from the thick tendrils of steam, two huge black-plumed wings unfurled. I yelped and stumbled back into a rather tall bush. A scattering of leaves fell into my face. I was blinded momentarily.
The winged creature was still obscured right then, but as I swatted the leaves from my hair, it came out into the moonlight. I hadn't finished picking them off of me as of yet, but I can assure you that what I was to see next stole my very breath from me. I hardly expected whatever it was to talk to me, with a voice that spoke directly into my soul and sent a maddened shiver down my spine.
"How dare a mortal disturb me…"
I froze, and lifted my gaze slowly from my leaf-covered hands. He was beautiful. I think he appeared to be physically on the edge of seventeen. To my disbelief, he grasped a shadow deftly out of the air, and wove it around one arm. The shadow draped itself around him, and became fabric.
His willowy body was gleaming white against the dark woods. His lips were plump, but bloodless and bluish, and turned downward in a severe scowl. His silver hair, in tight curls, fell not quite to his shoulders. There were winged, obsidian appendages growing from between his shoulder blades, and he had solid coal-black eyes that sparkled gently with the faint light of distant stars. I knew then that I was hallucinating.
"What gall is this that prompts you?" he asked, in a voice that resounded through me. My knees wobbled. I sputtered. Was I supposed to answer?
"I wanted to soak in the hot spring," I blurted. My own voice was tiny in comparison.
"Likely story."
By then I realized he wasn't speaking English. It was a strange language that for some reason, I comprehended.
"I am being honest," I replied. The knowledge of this not being reality gave me confidence.
"You take that tone with me? Do you not know who I am?"
"I don't have a clue."
And he was upon me. That flawless visage was so close to me now. He quivered slightly; in a rage, perhaps.
"I AM THANATOS, GOD OF DEATH; I AM THE MOST DESPISED IN ALL THE COSMOS. DO YOU NOT FEAR ME?"
I mulled this over. Considering I wasn't really facing the Greek god of death, I had no reason to be scared.
"I
was. But then, you did surprise me. I don't know why I'd despise
you."
He appeared confused.
"I-I am death. Surely I have stolen a loved one from you before?"
Was that what this hallucination was about? I should have known.
"Yes," I said. "You did take my father, three years ago. He had cancer."
"Then you do despise me."
"Not really. It was his time, I guess. Life would be pretty meaningless without death, and I think he's probably somewhere better." I reasoned, more to myself than to him. I liked the idea of my father living someplace without suffering. I also had no reason to hate my mirage version of death, especially since he was so damn sexy.
"Still you do not cower?" Death's face contorted; either with relief or some sort of pain. I wasn't sure which.
"Should I?"
"It is disrespectful to be so casual with a god. It is deserving of punishment."
"Oh? Go ahead, then."
He reached for me. I didn't move. He hesitated.
"EVEN NOW, THERE IS NO FEAR OR HATRED IN YOUR EYES, THOUGH I HAVE EVERY INTENTION OF ENDING YOU."
"I guess it's my time. I'm not complaining. This is definitely one of the more interesting ways to die." I laughed a little. "But you know, I'll still think of you as my friend, or whatever. No hard feelings," I joked. Of course, had this been reality, I'd probably have reacted differently.
"You are strange, little one," Thanatos breathed, apparently stunned at my indifference.
"Everyone says that. By the way, what are you doing out here? I don't exactly see Greek gods on a day-to-day basis."
His eyelids fluttered. I believe he was trying to think of the best way to cope with me and my nonchalance.
"I…I am bereft of my duties at this time. Hades insisted that I needed a rest of sorts, which, he tells me, lasts one mortal week."
"That's a funny coincidence. I'm on vacation for a week, too," I informed him brightly. Though at this point, I was really tired of seeing things. I just wanted to get to bed.
Thanatos straightened himself, and spoke with obvious intent.
"Then, mortal, you will entertain me until my time here has ended."
Huh?!
"Now, wait just a minute," I countered, blinking. "I don't know anything about this country! I'm from America. I don't know where anything is, and how am I supposed to entertain you when I don't know what you like or dislike?"
Thanatos narrowed those pitch black eyes. The look he gave chilled me, so I ceased my complaints.
"All right. I'll do it. Only, I have to tell you…" I pointed at his overall archaic and unearthly appearance.
"You are going to have problems if you look like that. Can't you make yourself more…Normal?"
"Is that all? I suppose you are correct. We do not want to attract unwanted attention."
He snapped his fingers and it all disappeared. His eyes were no longer entirely black, but black-irised. His skin, though sickly pale, was not unnaturally white. He sported a black turtleneck sweater and blue jeans which I personally believed were unsuited to the warm temperature of a Greek summer, but I said nothing. The only thing that went unchanged was his silver hair. Needless to say, he still looked like an absolute knockout. Why hadn't his sexiness made me pass out yet? Oh, right. This was a hallucination.
"Okay. I guess we'd better head back to my hotel room and plot tomorrow out or something." I brought a hand up to rub my weary eyes. God, I needed sleep.
"You appear fatigued. Surely it is the work of my twin Hypnos. If you wish, I may call upon him to loose his hold on you," he offered. The godlike quality of his voice had diminished; it sounded only like a smooth and quiet young man's voice. Maybe that was because he was masquerading as a human, now. I liked that my delusions could be so logical and conventional, unlike my usually-wacky dreams.
"No, no. I'm fine. Let's just go."
The walk back to the hotel was wonderfully uneventful. Although, I did notice the clerk at the front desk give me a funny look. It must have been strange for her to think I'd picked up such a hot man in the forest at this time of night. I must have imagined that look, too.