CLASH of the TITANS
CHAPTER
—IV—
COUNTED BLESSINGS
…
High atop a tall and steep hill, on the edge of a cliff that overlooked the sea, the people of Seriphos had constructed a collection of shrines and statues on a stone plateau. It was on the request of Perseus' very religious mother. Every morning Danae would come up with food and drink for the priests that maintained the temples. She would give offerings and prayer before the pantheon of gods and goddesses that stood waiting to be venerated and on holy days would offer the necessary sacrifices appropriate to their customs.
Danae had brought faith to the island and it had been paradise for many years now. Olympus looked upon them with much favour. Why shouldn't she be thankful?
The trek up the steppes were not particularly difficult and Perseus would always have to make the trip for one reason or another. He passed pilgrims, priests and travellers that came to bring food and wine for the priests that maintained the temple complex. Through an arch of white stone, Perseus spotted among the pairs of priests and priestesses kneeling and prostrating before idols of fantastical characters: like Hermes— the messenger of the gods, patron of travellers and thieves. There was a statue of Athena— the Shieldmaiden of Olympus, goddess of wisdom and battle strategy, standing with her golden spear and round shield. Opposing her was the god of war, Ares, who blankets his bed with the skin of the foes he's slain, then Apollo, who brings in the sun behind his chariot of flames. Demeter, goddess of the grain, of growth and vegetation. There was Artemis, goddess of the hunt, protector of the forests, though few actually came to worship at her feet, beside her was the shrine of Dionysus, the patron god of wine and merriment.
Hestia's shrine was small and humble, like the goddess herself, Perseus imagined. Instead of offerings to be placed there, under her larger statue were small idols, versions of the larger one and people were encouraged instead to take one idol to be brought home. Opposite the goddess of the hearth was the grand statue of Hera, Queen of Olympus, mother of marriage and family.
Standing adjacent to Hera was the idols of the three mighty gods of power. Poseidon, the god of sea and earthquakes, wielding his mighty trident. In the middle was the great and powerful king of Olympus, Zeus. It was by far the largest statue in the temple, standing at almost 450 feet. Placed at the very back it encompassed an entire circular stage— his legs were outstretched, arms flexed as though he were to throw a javelin, replaced instead however was a singe rod of lightning.
It was as the statue of Zeus that Perseus found his mother prostrating before, with the elder Amon indeed leading the procession. He approached carefully and paused when he saw a smaller figure, join her. Clymene often joined her mother in the morning prayers. She handed her mother a small bundle of oak branches. Danae responded by tapping the end of the bundle over Clymene's dark hair as she muttered her prayers and then continued over to the feet of Zeus.
His mother, Perseus did not want to disturb, but Clymene was fair game. The young lad came behind her and tapped her shoulder. "Uncle is looking for you," he whispered to her and waited for her shocked and frightened reaction when it dawned on her. "Apparently you're late."
"Crap…okay fine!" she seethed. "We got distracted in the morning. Stay with mother for me, please!" she picked up her basket and ran back out of the temple complex in haste.
Fairly amused, Perseus chuckled at her but kept his word and stayed a few steps behind his mother. Amon definitely noticed and ceremoniously coughed under his breath.
"Glorious Zeus, king of the starry heavens, master of thunderstorms, swift-striking hurler in torrents of rain, in winds that tear men, women and children from Mother Gaia's embrace. The Summer showers are yours," her prayers came in whispers, genuine, intimate, holding out a small bouquet of oak branches that was set fire to. She held it before the giant statue of the Sky-Father. "O Zeus, that bring the Earth to life each year; yours too is the storms of all seasons, who chooses a season cruel or mild. I call to you this day, if ever we have honoured you…" Danae closed her eyes tight and her voice began to waver. "…Please, I ask that you grant now your blessings with a bountiful season of sea-life and riches from the mines. If I have pleased and honoured you…grant my beloved son Perseus a wife so as to bless me with grandchildren—"
"Mother!"
Danae pretends not to notice him, instead continued with her prayers, finishing off her venerations in silence. "Praise be to you." She finished and rose to her feet. "Oh, hello, my dear, beloved son." She shone him an innocent smirk and embraced him warmly. "Nice of you to join me for prayers for a change."
"Oh, of course, ma. I've always been a devoted worshipper of the gods." He said in mock offence.
"You jest, Perseus but if only you knew just what we owe to the gods of Olympus."
Perseus stared at her slowly turning serious face. A humble, sympathetic half-smile appeared on his own face as he drew her in closer and the two started walking down the trail of the hill.
On their way down, Danae asked about his journey with his father. He didn't want to trouble her too much so decided to hold back on the detail about the nesting fury; but he did relay their earlier concern about not catching enough fish. "I shall make an offering and a prayer to Poseidon for some bounty then," his mother replied, causing Perseus to titter under his breath. The young man had his mother rest her head on his shoulder as they walked back into town.
—O—
The rest of the day came about smoothly. Perseus and Ixas came back to the harbour and as Leander had done for him, Perseus helped the crew of the Little Ikaros unload their haul ashore. They're catch mirrored his own, meagre, unimpressive— and though he was not surprised, he would be lying if he wasn't completely disappointed. The meek Little Ikaros was by far the best fishing vessel in Greece, modified for ease of use, speed and manoeuvrability as well as capacity, if with these advantages, the best fishermen came back practically empty, then there was indeed a big problem. The only upside to the venture was that their ship hadn't had a run-in with the nesting fury.
In fact, according to Elpenor, if there was indeed a rogue fury then it had already departed of its own volition. The sea ruins were empty, nothing there but silent winds and maybe a smallest indication of a nest among the rocks. Perseus was relieved to hear this, making a mental not to inform both Polydectes and his own father.
After processing whatever was given to them, the men headed straight to the tavern, predictably. Such were the young men of the island to find joy in such ways. Outside on the porch of the tavern, Perseus, Ixas and Eusabios sat and waited for their mutual friend. As the sun began to set, they saw the miners begin to ascend from the quarries— pick-axe and shovel in their hands as they made their way to them.
Like the others, Nestor was covered in soot and dirt but was greeted warmly by his friends upon arrival.
"Let us celebrate your last night as a free man, Nes!" Perseus bellowed as he handed him a cup of cool wine. "We will mourn you, brother."
Nestor laughed as he grabbed the drink and pulled the fisherman in embrace. Then, as if on cue, several young women passed by them— elegantly dressed with their hair done up, adorned in simple golden broaches and necklaces. Even Perseus, whose heart was always fixed on the wellbeing of others, could not help but follow their sway. "You laugh now, Perseus, but my mother has been scheming with yours for some time now… not long to go before we lament your passing also."
"But until then…" Ixas cut in and gulped down yet another mug. So that night was mostly filled with more merrymaking.
Nestor received some more visitors and greetings from other men, meaning to wish him congratulations including Dictys. Their women would not have approved of the goings on that took place in the tavern, but it could not be helped. With many drinking, feasting and singing, Perseus became content.
Standing by a support beam, the young man laughed with the crowd. Ixas approached him with two more cups of alcohol, he gave Perseus a cup before clashing his own against it. "What a life we live, eh?" he said. "Low harvest on land and sea, yet we can never count the blessings bestowed upon us. May this never change."
"To Zeus then."
"To Zeus!"
—O—
The joys and pleasures extended into the late hours of the night, and most of the patrons of the tavern had either gone home or otherwise fallen victim to stupor. Perseus was left to help the husband-to-be back to his hut at the edge of town. It was only a few houses away from his own, which was fortunate and when he was able to pass the barely conscious form of Nestor back to his disapproving mother, left to return home.
Perseus' own abode was nothing to brag about— made of mud-brick and wooden beams, and hey, strewn together for his roof. They had previously extended the house for Clymene only a year ago which was a group effort with their neighbours.
It wasn't much but it suited them just fine.
When Perseus got home, his mother was on the porch with her daughter's head resting on her lap. As for his father, standing against a beam facing the moon bearing ocean, guardian to his beloved family. Dictys examined his son at a distance, making sure the boy still had his wits after his night at the alehouse.
"I'm fine, father. I only had, what, three cups of wine." Perseus assured him as he joined the older man, standing before the majesty of illuminate Selene, daughter of Hyperion.
As the silence of the night rang, only his mother could be heard. Humming a soft tune as she softly combed Clymene's tangled locks. Then, lyrics slowly joined the tune. She sang in the old Greek tongue that Perseus knew he had never heard before, yet was so familiar to him.
How I suffer,
O child of mine
But you sleep and slumber with heart's content
In this box of wood and joyless
Set adrift in the unlit night
The dark blue gloom.
…
Take no heed of the thick spray above your head
As the waves pass by.
Nor of the sound of wind, whistling as you lie.
In your violet cloak upon your beautiful face.
…
If this trouble was trouble for you,
Then you would let my words fall
upon your little ear.
Bid you,
O child of mine,
Sleep and let the sea sleep too.
…
There was quiet, carried to them in the cool wind. She sang as she threads her fingers through young Clymene's raven hair, then soften into humming its tune. She had a warm smile on her face as she looked down at her daughter's sleeping form. "I used to sing that to you when you were a baby and my father cast us out in that infernal coffin." She did not look up to see him but Perseus knew that tears were threatening their release. The mere memory no matter how distant, pained her. "Adrift at sea for countless days. It nearly drove me mad. Its why I devote so much of my time to the gods, Perseus. I prayed day and night for our immeasurable misfortune to cease. I said 'May some change of minds become manifest from you, father Zeus.'" Danae then leaned in and planted a soft kiss upon her daughter's temple. "Zeus sent me here, to Seriphos…to Dictys, to your father."
As though summoned, Dictys sat himself at her side, also planting a chaste kiss onto Clymene's head as well as one less so upon Danae's lips.
"And that is why I am grateful."
Perseus smiled contently at her… at them… at his family. There against the dark blue night, illuminated by the silver moon, he watched knowing only love and joy at the family that sourced him this. He prayed it never change, or that it would never change him. He looked out over the water once more and sighed. His thoughts once again fell to the fury among the rocks, and he became troubled once more.
—=O=—