They had always thought highly of her, the one with the hair like fire. Men had fallen when in her sight, women reeled with rage. Her beauty was so well known that even Venus's devotees were reconsidering their allegiance.
The ground she tread, some said, began to blossom with the sweetest smelling roses after she lifted her feet. Some even went so far as to propose the idea that the dead themselves would rise just to catch a glimpse of her entering and leaving the towns.
Maria, however, knew this to be preposterous. She was the daughter of a merchant, which as we all know were hardly the grounds to consider her divine, much less a member of the aristocracy. It was a particularly cool day and Maria sat in the horto watching the butterflies swarm around the magnolia bush. She brushed her red hair from her face and leaned forward, extending her arm and finger, hoping one of the beautiful blue insects would land on her.
"You have always been fascinated by the most...trivial things" her brother Modestus laughed.
She turned toward him, and with a pouty look remarked "yes, but at least I don't pretend to be a great gladiator when all the 'pretty' women pass me by in the streets." With that she stood, obviously recognizing Modestus's lack of a response as a clear victory in her corner. She walked into the atrium, and bowed before the shrine of Aequitas, who had protected their family for as long as she could remember. He was the reason that their father could afford such a large villa.
Making her way back toward her own room, Modestus continued to follow her and make terribly unintelligent remarks. But that was Modestus, always living up to his name.
Maria walked up to her bed and retrieved her palla, which she pulled over her head and around her shoulders. Modestus took this as an opportunity to (attempt to) abuse her again. "Oh well, Maria, if you're going out, think you could buy me a chicken or two?" He laughed so hard at his own joke that he almost collapsed to the floor. Secretly, Maria hoped he would. While an older sister is supposed to be caring, gentle, and the good example for her younger siblings, she couldn't help but sometimes be overcome with the urge to launch her fist at his jaw. But, obviously being the lady she was, she refrained and left the house grumbling.
As she walked the streets of her small city, she constantly endured the stares of those she passed by. It was a never-ending frustration to leave her home at times.
Finally as she made her way down the Via Roma, she came across a place that existed almost entirely in seclusion: the tombs. Before reaching the final destination, she felt the obligation to pay her respects to her family's tomb. She mounted the high stairway to the tombs and saw a man walking down the Via below. She hid herself behind a small shrub, pulling her blue palla over her head entirely, almost covering her eyes.
The man was something spectacular. He wore robes so white that she could only assume he was an official of the Emperor's. His sandals glinted like gold, and he was wearing rings that sparkled and shimmered in the daylight. His hair also looked the color of the sun, curled and covered by a small headband that she had only seen minstrels wear. As she watched this man who could only be described as astonishing, she felt her cheeks grow warm. Is this how men felt when they watched her walk? Surely not, for this man clearly must be the son of a god!
She shrunk down off the steps and kept close to the hill, following this man out of town. He proceeded on the Via Roma for a few paces, before turning into a large field of white flowers that Maria had heard called "poppies" before. It was such a strange name for a flower, but she ignored her curiosities about flowers (even though that was the original reason for her trek out this day) and focused more on this strangely perfect man. And as her eyes followed him, she lost the concentration she had been maintaining on staying low and being stealthy like a scorpion, but instead her palla fell from her shoulders and before she knew it, she lay flat on the ground. As she fell, a slight noise of surprise escaped her (clearly ruining the air of stealth she had so earnestly meant to preserve).
The distraction of internally damning herself for ruining her chances of following the man were interrupted by a soft hand reaching out and grabbing hers. Shocked, she looked up to see the man, in all his radiant beauty. It was not possible for this man to be of this earth, the beauty he possessed seemed impossible.
"Salve, Maria" he said softly while he helped her up. She was shocked...how...how could he have known her name? "Simple." He replied. Clearly he was reading her mind...clearly he was a god...
"Yes, Maria. I have watched you from my perch in the heavens for quite a time now. Your beauty is radiant, far greater than any other maiden in all the land...if you have impressed a god then understand the intensity of what I say. You carry yourself so sweetly, so innocently. Maria, I write songs about you, I attempt to recreate your hair in the sunsets, even I have the birds sing of you, to you!"
Maria was taken aback and before she could realize what was happening, this god took her in his arms, embracing her tightly.
"Who are you?" she stuttered out. She couldn't decide between feeling exceptional enough for the gods, or feeling uncomfortable with a man she'd never met before clutching her closer than she would ever allow anyone to.
"I am the god of the sun, the god of music!" he pronounced proudly. The pride on his face was almost sickening. Maria had heard tale of many gods being proud fools, and hoped to Jupiter that they were just jealous mortals' tales, but alas! This sun-god was clearly more enraptured with himself than he appeared to be with her.
"Apollo..." she mumbled under her breath.
"Yes, yes. That is my given name, my sweet! Now, dear beautiful maiden...would you care to know the caress of a god? To feel more spectacular than any woman in all of the empires in the world combined? I can give you anything, make you the mother of a god, the mother of the sunset..." he continued with such lavish promises but Maria had heard enough. As she tried to push him away from her, he only clasped her tighter. He crooned his neck downward and planted a kiss on her.
"Begone!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. But the god had different things in mind. He only desired to possess the beautiful women for a moment. He never bestowed or swore fidelity to these women, he never cared for more than a moment of capturing her beauty in all its wondrous rapture. He refused to lose Maria and have to waste his time finding a petty mortal with looks even half as appealing as hers. As she struggled, her palla fell from her, landing on the ground, covering the white poppies where they stood.
A soft voice echoed through the field. "That is quite enough, Apollo..." it gently said. Apollo acted as if he hadn't heard the loud, yet gentle voice, however it repeated itself. "Apollo...leave the girl...". He began to grab the sleeves of Maria's pallum, attempting to pull it down and reveal her toga. Suddenly, Maria felt Apollo's grip release her and as she fell she could feel her long red hair coming undone from the tight style she had tied it up into.
As her head crashed into the ground, everything for her grew black as her life escaped from her. The long locks of red hair covered every poppy around her as Ceres emerged from the earth. She began to curse Apollo for the death of the young beautiful maiden. Thinking of her own daughter, Proserpina, she knelt down and cradled the head of the beautiful Maria. "Oh my dear...your struggle with the sun-god will not be forgotten..." and as she spoke the white flowers all around became the same color as her hair. "Your flower will not only remind the world of your beauty...but as you helped those in pain in life, so shall your flowers help those in pain after your death..."
Ceres carried the girl to her families tomb and looked upon the seal on the front which bared the god Aequitas' image and sighed. Walking through the wall to lay her with her family, the seal's image changed to an impression of herself.
"May you sleep well as your flowers grow my dear...may you sleep well"