Thank you to
Meg McNulty for hosting this fabulous contest. Click
HERE to see the rest of the entries. Following is the basis for the contest:
Twelfth night. The last day of Christmas, the end of the pagan winter festival, the night when the Lord of Misrule takes centre stage, lords become servants and servants become lords. Twelfth night, the start of the Carnival season. For the classicists amongst you, think of Janus, the two faced god whose festival heralds the start of the new year.
Entrants are charged with writing a poem or flash fiction of up to 500 words that involves masks or masquerades.
And here is my entry:
Prior to Eos’ flight, Jason traveled by moonlight
and crept close to the palace. The hero hid in the shadows, eyes keen, muscles
stiff. He relaxed as a female form approached. A hooded cloak draped her frame.
Soft dawn light broke the horizon suddenly, drawn forth as if summoned from the
dark shadows at the world’s edge. The warm rays illuminated the mask that hid
the woman’s face.
Behind
the mask, her eyes glimmered in the dim light. Their beauty struck him with the
power of Hephaestus’ hammer smashing against his ashen anvil. She removed her
hood and slowly dragged her fingers through her long hair. Gentle tresses
cascaded over her shoulders.
Her
honeyed voice floated over the distance between them and into his ears, “Καλημέρα. Good morning, brave
Jason. Are you certain you wish to accept my father’s challenges? Are you truly the man to face down these tasks,
cross my father, and place your crew in grave danger... or worse?”
“Did
you not witness my earlier display in the palace?”
She
smiled. “I did indeed.” Her hazel eyes sparkled with the memory of how her dark
arts had saved him from a spear intent on impaling her new love. “But, what
else do you have in that tunic of yours? You’ll need more than fancy acrobatics
to complete these labors.”
She
produced a phial from inside her chiton. “Take this. It contains an oil you
must apply to your entire body, shield, cuirass, and helm prior to the first
task, else your death will be slow and painful.”
He
would have asked why she thought he needed
her help. After all, he hadn’t needed her aid in any of the previous trials
he’d faced. But then, Eros’ arrow lodged a bit deeper, love filling Jason’s
chest cavity. Jason’s heart quickened, drumming a passionate cadence against
his chest. A smile crept across his face. “Σας ευχαριστώ. Thank you. But why are you helping me, may I ask?”
“You
are the first person to come for the golden fleece that I believe can actually
succeed... with my help of course,” she purred and caressed his muscular arms
from forearm to bicep. “You’re either favored by the gods as you say, or
foolish to a fault. Either way, I’m drawn to you. I cannot say why the passion
burns so strongly after one meeting, but it does.”
Jason
crossed his arms. “I’ll not believe that you’d willingly betray your father’s volatile
temper. Hera warned me as much. And I certainly witnessed it yesterday.”
She
placed Jason’s hand over her heart. “Eros’ shafts do not strike in varying
degrees. Their impact is full and deep, blossoming unrestrained like flowers in
spring.”
“I
too felt the bite of Eros’ arrows, but a growing affection is no reason to
incur your father’s wrath.”
“An
ordinary love is not,” she countered.
“Yet, the gods have cast their eyes upon us both. It is their will not ours.”
Hope you enjoyed.
