Odes and Accolades

"Do you want to hear the one about why there’s a moon, next?" I stared at the round, silvery orb in the sky as I waited for my little sister's response. It was my favorite story, and anticipation bubbled up inside me at the prospect of telling it.

Again.

Epona giggled next to me, knowing exactly which tale I was going to tell. Her head was resting on my shoulder, so I felt it when she nodded her head in reply. I could hardly contain my enthusiasm and licked my lips as I began to recall the details of my fondest bedtime tale.

"Before man, there were only Gods; mighty, fearsome, and arrogant. From the Sun God Sol, who ruled over all, to Flora, the Goddess of Spring. For ages they reigned in their ancient sky; Othaeon, a divine kingdom of gold and white, where the Gods displayed their magnificence. But like anyone stuck in the same routine, they got bored and descended from their majestic heaven, leaving the astral plane. Little did they know that in doing so, they would be barred from ever returning. It was a minor concern at the time, for they were curious, and so with powers beyond our grasp, joined forces to create our world. From mountains to the seas, bugs to trees, nothing in their wildest dreams was excluded, yet it was the mortals they prized the most. They demanded our obedience by demonstrating their power and prestige. We were without any defense, and so we bowed our heads in compliance. For a thousand years, we served these Gods, until one day, out of sheer spite, a mortal woman took a stand. With motives unpure, she approached Sol, praising his feats and grandeur. He quickly made her his paramour, unbeknownst that this would soon doom them all. She learned his secrets beneath his sheets, plotting and biding her time for retribution. After she uncovered their vulnerability, she crafted lies with finesse and expertise, causing the Gods to quarrel amongst each other; one after another. Hell unleashed and the Gods fell, destroyed by their own vanity. Enfeebled, they were banished to the depths of the Earth, where their broken forms could not be healed by the sun's ethereal rays. The mortal woman was praised and celebrated for her bravery and wit. In reward for her heroic deeds, she was transformed into the Moon Goddess, becoming a guardian so that she could forever watch over the world. Many know her as God Slayer, but her true name was Dea, and she swore to ensure the Gods of Old would never again see the light of day."

The recollection provoked a flood of nostalgia, making me miss the way our father used to narrate it to us before bed, back when he was still here. Had he been the one to tell it, he'd have changed his voice to those of the characters, making us laugh as he tried to sound like a woman.

I sighed quietly, not wanting Epona to hear. He'd been away for a long time now, fighting in the King's war, and it made me sad that he wasn't around to share his stories with her. I was the oldest by three years, so I felt it was my job to pass them on to her so she would be able to have a piece of him with her at all times. Just like I did.

"Is that true?" She asked me, shifting so she could see my face. I tore my gaze away from the moon and smiled at her. Her brown eyes were bright and curious, and her golden brown hair fell around her face in a messy mass of curls. She was a lot like him, and whenever I looked at her, I missed him more than I could have ever imagined. But she was also different from him. From us. She loved the myths and tales as much as I did, but rather than letting herself imagine and dream of the possibilities, she questioned them, trying to find the truth behind them. I wasn't like that. Whenever Dad told a story, I'd let my mind wander to the fantasy of it. Of the heroes and monsters and other mythical creatures that came with each one. Epona picked at them like they were a scab, making it less fun for me to tell them. Maybe she wouldn't question them so much if Dad were the one telling her instead of me. But he wasn't here, so it was up to me to keep the stories alive.

I blinked back the tears that were threatening to spill over and shrugged. "Daddy said it was true."

"He also said there's such a thing as horses with wings, and they can fly. But I've never seen one," she countered, her voice sounding more like a challenge than a fascination. I didn't like that tone, and I felt a hard lump form in my throat.

Pegasus. I thought to myself. I'd never seen one either, yet that didn't stop me from picturing them in my head. I imagined they were all white, and had wings the size of their bodies that were covered in thick, silky feathers.

"You've never seen our grandparents either, yet they're real," I said to her, though my argument was more for me than her. I needed to believe that things could exist even though I'd never seen them. I needed to believe that there were places such as Mount Othaeon, the Netherworld, and Dea's Starlands. I needed to believe that there was magic in the world. Because if I didn't, then what was the point of anything? What was the point of being alive? Without these things to believe in, my spirit would shrivel up and die.

Another giggle escaped her. "Mommy says they’re her parents and that without them she wouldn't be here. Just like we need mommy and daddy to be here. She also says Daddy likes to tell stories to make us happy. She calls them 'fables', and that they aren't real."

She told me that too, but it hadn't stopped me from believing in them.

"Alcmene! Epona! Time to come inside. It's past your bedtime!"

My little sister shot to her feet at the sound of our mom's voice, a wild smile spreading across her face. I lay on the grassy field a little longer, staring at the moon as I replayed the story in my head. The image of Dea that I held in my imagination was that she was a gorgeous woman who had a strong aura of elegance that she wielded like a weapon. I picture her having beautiful, long golden locks, ivory skin, and eyes as turquoise as the sea.

I frowned and looked down at my tangled dark hair, at my warm skin that seemed to have gotten a shade darker after spending all day out in the sun. I thought of my eyes, which were green, rather than brown, like my father's and sister's. I didn't see my features as pretty, not when compared to this woman I had invented.

There'd been nights where I'd pretend I was in Dea's position, and I used my beauty to trick the malicious Sun God into turning on his kin. But I was gangly and awkward, with long skinny legs, and eyes too big for my face. Dad assured me I was beautiful, and Mom said I had a few more years before I'd be a woman, and to not cry about my appearance because I'd grow into it. Only a few years was a long time to wait.

"Alcmene!"

My mom's shout cut through the air, startling me out of my thoughts. With a final look at the moon, I rose and aimed in the direction of our home, trudging slowly along the path. As I walked, my mind stayed on my dad's Moonlit Legend, wishing with every fiber of my being that the accolade was real and that maybe, someday, I too, could be remembered as someone extraordinary.