***
"Give me a drink. Lots of alcohol. LOTS."
The men at the tavern laughed as the weary man dropped down at the bar. It was a well-known fact that the man's wife was a termagant, and he usually came to the tavern for relief from her and to drink away all the problems she heaped on him.
"Liber, you've really got to stop drinking so much," said a young man sitting at the bar, smiling at the older man. "The wife's only going to scream at you for wandering home drunk."
"At least he won't be able to hear her! He'll be too dead drunk!"
The men at the bar roared with laughter.
"He thinks his wife is bad? My wife grills me every time I walk out the door!"
"My wife always find something new for me to fix. I think she breaks things on purpose!"
"My girlfriend hasn't talked to me in three weeks," said a lovelorn young man, resting his hand in his chin. "She's angry at me for something – but get this, she won't tell me what!"
The men laughed some more.
"Gifts, gifts, gifts, that's all my love wants," said another young man. "I wonder whether she loves me or my money!"
"Honestly, I don't understand why you men put up with them," chimed in a new voice. The company at the bar turned to the newcomer – a young man with fluffy blond hair and blue eyes the color of a cloudless sky. He wore a smart uniform, that of a general of the Elysian army.
"No wonder," one said, "it's the sculptor Jadeite, the talented woman-hater!" The men broke into drunken laughter once more.
Jadeite cheerfully ignored them. "You put up with such flaws in women. Naggers, always negative, gold-diggers, mysterious..."
"And soon you'll put up with it too, young chap," replied a man at the bar. "You're about the age where young men start going wild for young ladies."
"No...I'm never going to get married."
The men did a double take. "What?!"
"Surely you must be joking."
"Who'll keep you? Who'll take care of you? Who will cook, clean, farm while you work?"
Jadeite shook his head. "I can take care of myself perfectly well; I've been living alone for almost two years now. All I need is my art and myself."
"Everyone needs affection." Liber swallowed a glass of liquor. "Bad as some of these women may be at their worst, they are kind and loving at their best."
Jadeite shook his head again, a grin lighting on his face. "All I need is my art. I'll tell you what – I've got a wager."
The men leaned in to listen.
"I bet you all a denarius that I can create a woman – a perfect statue of a woman – more beautiful than any mortal in all the earth."
The men turned to each other and nodded. "It's a deal!"
****
"Working hard, eh, Jadeite?"
The young man looked up from the slab of marble he had before him. "Yes...I promised, and I cannot lose a wager. I'm on leave; I don't have five denarii to just give up!"
The man who'd come to visit chuckled. "In any event, your statue is exquisite. When are you going to present it to the men?"
Jadeite gave his visitor an odd look. "When I'm finished with it."
The visitor raised an eyebrow. "Is it not...complete?"
Jadeite looked back at the marble and laughed. "Far from it, old man," he said. He turned his eyes to his creation-in-process, sparkling with pride. "There is so much refining, polishing, perfecting I need to do to make her perfect."
The visitor smiled. "Then sculpt on, talented young woman-hater."
****
"Come see," Liber's voice rang out. "Jadeite has finished his masterpiece, and he wishes us to see her."
The five men that had been at the tavern on the day of Jadeite's wager jumped excitedly, running behind Liber towards Jadeite's small dwelling on the outskirts of the city. A throng of citizens followed them, eager to do the judging of the statue and the famed mortals of beauty.
"We'll all be one denarius richer today, fellows," one of the original five said.
"One man who went to visit said his statue is very beautiful."
"But more than any mortal woman in all the earth? Surely you remember the faces of Helen, Coronis, Semele, Cassandra...there are many, the consorts of gods, extremely beautiful young women. How could a woman of cold marble be more surpassing than that of flesh and blood?"
The other four shrugged, and nodded in half agreement, half apprehension.
Upon approaching Jadeite's door, one young man raised his hand to knock on it, but the gesture was unnecessary. Jadeite's door swung open, a radiant smile on his handsome face.
"Come inside, men," he said.
The men walked into his house, looking at the simple accommodations with snickers. As artistic and talented as young Jadeite was, anyone could see that this abode needed a woman's touch. A large obelisk stood in the center of the humble room, covered with a tarpaulin.
Jadeite moved to the statue, and pulled the tarp from over it, revealing the finished product to all the men.
"I call her...Rei."
Five mouths dropped in surprise, gaping at the beauty of the figure. One could nearly swear it was a real woman, with tresses and eyes of violet, and pale, milky skin that defined beauty.
"Think, men, of the faces of divine consorts," Jadeite said proudly. "Io, Europa, Callisto...Semele, Coronis, Cassandra...even Helen, whose face began a war. Judge honestly and justly. Is the face of my Rei not more beautiful than these?"
A murmur spread through the crowd, and they had to agree that Jadeite's statue's beauty surpassed even those mortals.
With a triumphant smile, Jadeite turned to the four men he'd met at the bar. "Fellows, it seems you each owe me a denarius."
****
Jadeite hopelessly looked down at the five silver coins he held in his hands. Even five days' wages couldn't brighten his countenance today.
With a sigh, he turned back to the statue that stood in the center of house. It was symbolic, really – the statue that occupied the center of his household also occupied the center of his heart.
Jadeite had fallen in love, deeply, passionately in love, with the thing he had made.
He stepped to it, gently tracing his finger along the contours of her heavenly body. Rising to the tips of his toes, he kissed her lips. Of course, they did not kiss back. They were lifeless, made of marble.
Jadeite stepped back and surveyed the marble statue in a mixture of love and resentment. How could his own creation have claimed his heart?
***
Over the next few weeks, Jadeite could only devote his time to his beautiful creation. He kissed those enticing lips – they could not kiss him back.
He caressed her hands, her face – they were unresponsive.
He took her in his arms; she remained a cold and passive form.
For a time he tried to pretend, as children do with their toys. He would dress her in rich robes, trying the effect of one delicate or glowing color after another, and imagine she was pleased. He would bring her the gifts real maidens love, little birds and gay flowers and the shining tears of amber Phaeton's sisters weep, and then dream that she thanked him with eager affection. He put her to bed at night, and tucked her in all soft and warm, as little girls do their dolls.
But he was not a child; he could not keep on pretending. In the end, he gave up. He loved a lifeless thing...and he was utterly and hopelessly wretched.
***
It was the feast day of Venus – a holiday especially honored in Cyprus, the island which first received the goddess after she rose from the sea-foam.
Lovers danced through the streets, happy to celebrate this wonderful feast day together – a day of love. Unhappy lovers went to pray that their love would return kind; single men and women alike went to the altars to pray for a love of their own.
Later on in the festivities – when the sun was beginning to set and many were traveling home – a dark, cloaked figure trudged through the city to the temple. He'd come late to avoid the crowd and the laughing inquiries of his friends. The figure was Jadeite; he held a large snow-white heifer in a large sack, bringing it to the altar in the temple of Venus.
Once he arrived, still cloaked, Jadeite laid the heifer on the altar of Venus and accepted the torch from the priest. He lit his sacrifice and instantly fell to the floor in prayer.
"Please, Venus," he prayed. "I only pray that I may find a maiden as beautiful as my Rei. Nothing more than that."
The fire raged up – once, twice, thrice. Jadeite's eyes widened at the good omen.
On the third time, however, a shadowy figure appeared in the flames. It advanced forward. Jadeite's expression turned from appreciative to frightened, and he backed away as he realized what the creature standing before him was.
"A...Maenad."
Indeed, it was a Maenad standing before him, clothed in frazzled fur. Her hair was wild, tossed all over her face, and her lips were reddened as though stained with blood.
"Why do you not ask for what you really want, boy?"
Jadeite frowned. "I prayed for what I wanted. I want...a maiden..."
"No, boy," the Maenad said. "You want no maiden like your Rei. You want her – Rei herself – for the statue to become real."
Jadeite hesitated, then shook his head.
"Ah...you know Venus cannot provide you with this wish. She has no power over the souls of the deep. But Hades can give what you want. A soul for your lady love."
Jadeite's mouth parted. "A...soul?"
"Is that not what she requires to live?"
"Yes."
A dark scroll appeared in the air next to the Maenad. She pointed to Jadeite, and it unrolled towards him. "Agree with Hades by the Styx, and by the Styx, your love will live."
Jadeite looked down at the contract. "That's it?"
"A soul for a soul."
Not fully understanding her answer, Jadeite picked the quill the Maenad eagerly handed him and signed at the bottom.
The contract vanished with a violent poof of black magic, and the Maenad laughed at the unsuspecting lover as she, too, faded away.
***
Thoughtful at the good omen and the strange occurrence that happened afterward, Jadeite trudged home, his chin in his hand. What was the meaning of that strange woman?
And "A soul for a soul?" What did she mean by that?
The young man wandered in his house, walking purposefully
to the center of his room, where Rei stood.
He stared up at the statue with love in his eyes. No matter how pitiful his situation was, he
could not help loving the exquisite creation.
There she stood on her pedestal, entrancingly beautiful. Stepping towards her, he caressed her – and
started backwards.
Was it self-deception, or did she really feel warm to his touch?
Jadeite's breath caught in his throat. Tentatively, he stepped forwars, kissing her lips...and felt them grow soft beneath his own. He touched her arms, her shoulders; their hardness vanished. He clasped her wrist; blood was pulsing there.
With unutterable gratitude and joy, he put his arms around his love and saw her smile into his eyes and blush.
"Rei!" he cried. "You're...alive!"
"Yes, my love," she said gently. "How many days I watched you from my cold station, with eyes that could not follow you! How long I have felt your warm lips touch mine, and wished I could kiss you back!"
"It is all right, my love...my soul," he murmured, lifting her from her pedestal to the floor besides him, "we are together, now and forever..."
The words had barely left his mouth when suddenly there was a searing pain in his body. He cried out and stepped back from his love. Her eyes were wide with fright.
"Jadeite!" she screamed. "You're...burning!"
With pain and much effort, Jadeite lifted an arm. His flesh was on fire.
"A soul for a soul!"
The cackling voice rang out as Jadeite, in despair, realized what he had promised.