Ruins and ruminations

Eone’s phone buzzed in her left pocket. Startled, she looked around to see if anyone had noticed. No one had. She slowly drew the phone out of her left pocket, glancing around once more to make sure nobody was watching her. Eone unlocked her phone and brought up her latest message.

I think I may have found something – K

Eone left her tools and carefully walked over to where Kress was working, minding her step to avoid treading on unseen treasures. She crouched alongside Kress and put her hand on his shoulder.

‘‘Kress,’’ she whispered softly. ‘‘What is it?’’

‘‘It looks like another fresco of the Grey Lady,’’ referring to the goddess by one of her many titles. ‘‘One moment.’’

Kress gently brushed away the last of the rocks and debris to reveal a lady wearing grey, flowing robes and a grey hood. It was the goddess Eone, the goddess after whom she was named. The goddess’s right arm, outstretched, beckoned to its beholders to come closer. There was an absence where her left arm should have been: the ash-coloured robe cascading over her left shoulder flowed down to her feet. In the left hand corner of the fresco, a dove flies over the Grey Lady’s heading, carrying the sprig of a plant in its beak.

‘‘Kress, is that silphium?’’ Silphium was a plant used as an abortifacient by the ancient Arkantines, a decadent, pleasure-loving people who once lived in the area. Use and overused, the plant became extinct a long time ago.

‘‘It certainly looks like it. But what need would a holy figure renowned for her chastity have for an abortifacient?’’

‘‘No time to ponder that now,’’ Eone said as she pulled out her mobile phone. She quickly snapped half a dozen photos of the fresco, turned off the phone, then slid it gently into her bra. Startled, Kress, who had been watching Eone up until this point, blushed and turned his head away. Eone and Kress then brandished the large, Ministry-issued cameras hanging around their necks and took a flurry of shots. As they did this, Kress noticed a man in a dark red coat walking towards them.

‘‘Commissar Ferez is coming this way,’’ Kress warned.

Eone and Kress put down their cameras and turn to greet him.

‘‘Good afternoon Eiza, Kress,’’ exclaimed Commissar Ferez, official from Ymira’s Ministry of Culture. ‘‘What have you found for us today?’’

‘‘A fresco, sir,’’ Eone replied flatly. ‘‘Depicting the Matron of Eonike.’’

‘‘Careful, Eiza,’’ Ferez warned, calling Eone by her Ymiran name. ‘‘I could have you arrested for that. It’s Murderess of Ennik now. Always has been.’’

‘‘I’m sorry, sir,’’ said Eone, her tone suggesting she wasn’t sorry at all. ‘‘I was mistaken. Please forgive me.’’

‘‘It’s all right, Eiza. You are one of our best archaeologists. The Ministry can forgive a momentary lapse in judgment. What can you tell me about the structure the fresco was found in?’’

‘‘Looks like it was only a small shrine, sir,’’ Kress replied. ‘‘A place for the Eon…for those harlot-worshipping heathens to offer prayers during their travels.’’

‘‘A small shrine, you say? Good, then I guess we won’t need many explosives.’’

‘‘No, sir,’’ Eone replied.

‘‘Thank you both for your assistance,’’ said Commissar Ferez. ‘‘You are excused.’’

Eone, Kress and the rest of the archaeological team made their way towards the bus, while Ministry officials prepared the site for the next phase. The team lined up at a checkpoint a short distance from the bus, where they handed back their cameras to the Ministry. The Ministry’s enforcers inspected each person’s phone for any unauthorised images taken of the site. When it was time for Eone’s phone to be inspected, she took out a mobile phone from her right pocket and handed it over. The enforcer examined it, then her, looking her up and down in a manner that made her skin crawl, before handing her phone back with a grunt.

Once they got through the checkpoint, Eone and Kress boarded the bus and found seats towards the back. Kress tried to make conversation, asking her about her plans for the weekend. Eone did not respond: she looked straight ahead, dreading the sound of what was to come. The bus roared to life like a lumbering steel beast, before driving away into the warm, shimmering dusk. A few minutes after departure, the passengers heard a large bang. Everyone went quiet for a moment, then resumed their conversations as if nothing had happened.

Everyone except Eone. Kress, feeling Eone flinch, put his arm around her shoulder. ‘‘You okay?’’ he asked.

She nodded, her gaze fixed straight ahead. A single tear rolled silently down her cheek.

***

After parting ways with Kress at the bus depot, Eone climbed the steep stairs to her apartment. She let herself into her apartment and immediately sat down at her desk to record the day’s discovery.

In the Year of Our Lady 397.9.25

Year of the Fall 67.2.30

On this day, we found a roadside shrine dedicated to the Grey Lady approximately 60 kilometres outside Skamnys. The shrine was small and oval in shape. All that remained of the structure was a couple of collapsed columns. Inside the shrine we found a fresco depicting the Grey Lady in her classic pose. This is yet another fresco depicting a dove with silphium in its beak. Doves and silphium are both symbols associated with Silphia. It is unusual to see these symbols depicted in the same fresco as the Grey Lady. This is something that warrants further investigation.

Eone then printed the photos she had taken that afternoon and affixed them underneath her latest entry. Caked in dust, and too exhausted to cook, Eone went and showered. When she was refreshed, she decided to begin her mnemonic exercises. She went into her bedroom and slid her bed a few feet to the side. She grabbed a chisel from her bedside table and pried open a creaky floorboard. In the cavity under her bed were dozens of notebooks recording every single dig and every single discovery Eone had ever been involved in. She pulled out one of the newer-looking tomes and sat down on her bed, opening the journal to its first page.

In the Year of Our Lady 393.3.17

Year of the Fall 63.6.22

On this day, we found a temple on the outskirts of Eonike. The temple was dedicated to Silphia, the ancient Arkantine goddess of love. The temple was remarkably well-preserved, and we could readily discern its layout. The temple had two main areas: the front and the back area. The front area was a large hall where priestesses would court worshippers. Once the worshippers had made a sizable enough offering, the priestesses would lead them to the back area, consisting of a series of smaller chambers, where they would couple in honour of the goddess. The greatest find was a statue of the goddess of love herself. The marble statue depicts Silphia stark naked, her gown gathered around her feet. Her left arm is position to preserve her modesty, while her right arm beckons worshippers to come deeper into her temple.

Eone spent a moment gazing at the photos of the statues she had taken on that day, before turning to the next entry, and then the next. Before she knew it, Eone had spent almost three hours reading through her notebook, trying to commit as much as she could to memory. With her eyes screaming for rest, Eone pulled back her coverlet and placed the tome on her bedside table, before tucking herself in and lying down to sleep.

That night she dreamt of the Grey Lady. Her eyes were weeping blood.

***

The next morning, just as dawn’s rosy fingers reached over the clouds, Eone awoke, donned her hiking gear and readied her pack for her journey through the wilderness. After wolfing down a nectarine and half a dozen chocolate cookies, Eone gathered her things and headed for the bus depot. The bus she boarded was almost empty to begin with, but by the time it reached the outskirts of the city there was no one left but Eone and the driver. From there it was another two hours until the bus arrived at its final stop.

Eone bid the bus driver farewell and and set off down the hiking trail until she reached the marker: a boulder with a tunnel bored through the middle of it. On the other side of the trail, and opposite the boulder, was a leafy green bush. Eone looked around to make sure she hadn’t been followed. Satisfied that she was alone, she brushed the bush to one side, revealing a hidden trail that zig-zagged up a steep ravine. Undaunted, Eone pushed through the thick foliage and climbed the steep trail.

When she reached the top of the ravine, she looked out across the countryside. In the distance, she saw the remnants of the giant, collapsed cave that had once housed the village of Kaliterra, the village of her grandmother. Kaliterra had been one of the nation’s natural wonders. It was also the site of one of the Ymirans’ greatest cruelties. During the Fall, Ymiran death squads surrounded the town, blocking off all means of escape. The Ymirans planted explosives all around the mouth of the cave before detonating them, causing the mouth of the cave to close on the village, and burying its inhabitants, including her grandmother’s entire family. The Ymirans denied their role in the atrocity: official reports state that it was the villagers themselves who blew up the cave rather than surrender. Eone knew better than to trust official Ymiran reports.

Eone’s grandmother was one of the few surviving inhabitants of Kaliterra, having married a Ymiran army officer, Eone’s grandfather, several years before the disaster. But her grandmother never forgot the village of her birth. ‘‘We live where we live,’’ her grandmother would sigh wistfully, ‘‘but the mind is often elsewhere.’’

When her husband passed away, Eone’s grandmother sold their home and left to be near Kaliterra, taking up residence in an abandoned shepherd’s cottage near the ruined village. This cottage is what awaited Eone at the end of her hike.

As she approached the cottage, the trees grew more and more sparse, giving way to rolling green hills. Eone traipsed through a lush meadow carpeted with scorpion grass, its five-fingered flowers of blue, pink and white reaching out to her. Eone finally came to a stop outside her grandmother’s door. Puffing hard, she set down her pack and took a few moments to compose herself, before rapping gently on the cottage door.

‘‘Come in, Eone,’’ crowed an old woman inside the house.

The sound of someone calling her by her true name gave her goosebumps. Eone opened the door and went into her grandmother’s cottage.

‘‘Welcome home, child,’’ her grandmother said, walking towards her.

‘‘Hello, Ama. It’s so good to see you.’’

Eone hugged her grandmother tightly. Eone’s grandmother was a short yet slender woman with fierce grey eyes whose strength belied her small frame.

How did you know it was me?’’

‘‘You’re the only one who visits me. Tea? I’ve just put fresh water on,’’ asked her grandmother.

‘‘Yes, thank you.’’

Eone’s grandmother went to a cupboard and took out a tea cup and saucer, placing them alongside the one already sitting on a wooden bench.

‘‘Now, tell me. How is your work? How many notebooks are you up to?’’

Eone’s face lit up. She dared not discuss her secret project with anyone else, not even Kress. ‘’47. It is incredible, Ama. So many wonders hidden just below the surface. I have more photos to show you.’’

‘‘Let me see,’’ her grandmother exclaimed.

Eone stood beside her grandmother and showed her photos of the Grey Lady and discoveries from a dozen other recent dig sites. Her grandmother stares at them in wonder.

‘‘These are incredible photos, Eone. I am so proud of you. Proud, but… .’’

‘‘What is it, Ama?’’

‘‘Terribly afraid. If anyone else knew what you were up to, it would mean the end of you. As important as this work is, it means nothing next to your life. You are all I have left. Besides, our history is much more than photos or notebooks. As long as we have our memories, the history of our people will live on.’’

‘‘I know, Ama,’’ Eone said knowingly.

‘‘I know it’s not what you want to hear, but I think it’s time for you to leave Ymira.’’

‘‘You know I can’t do that. I can’t leave you all alone. I love you, Ama.’’

‘‘Don’t take this the wrong way, but sometimes, when you leave, a little part of me hopes that it will be for the last time. I dream of you leaving this place behind. There is nothing for you here. Go and make a life for yourself somewhere else. The world is a big place, Eone.’’

‘‘I will, Ama. But not yet. There is still more work to do. Once I have scoured every square inch of this place, then I will go. But not before’’.

‘‘As you wish, dear one.’’ Eone’s grandmother sighed.

The kettle whistled as the water above the fire began to boil.

‘‘Enough talk,’’ Eone’s grandmother said as she stepped towards the hearth. ‘‘Time for tea.’’

***

A few weeks after her hike, Eone, Kress and the rest of their team found themselves at another ancient site. As they waited to collect their cameras, Kress scanned the faces of the Ministry officials at the site.

‘‘Where is Ferez?’’ Kress asked Eone.

‘‘I’m not sure,’’ Eone replied. ‘‘I wonder what has happened to him.’’

Eone caught the attention of a nearby sentinel.

‘‘Excuse me, sir. Where is Commissar Ferez?’’ she asked.

‘‘That is none of your concern, miss. Commissar Loleth is in charge here. That’s all you need to know.’’

Eone and Kress collected their cameras and waded into the ruins. It did not take long before Eone made a remarkable discovery: a mosaic of a naked youth brandishing a bow and arrow and chasing a doe. Eone was struck by the beauty of their forms, and the illusion of movement conveyed by their dynamic poses. She sent a message to Kress, snapped some photos with her phone, and quickly slid the phone into her bra. As she started taking pictures with her Ministry-issued camera, she heard several footsteps crunching on the nearby gravel. Expecting to see Kress, Eone was shocked to come face to face with a short-haired, platinum-blonde woman dressed in red from head to toe. Eone assumed that this woman was Commissar Loleth. The commissar was flanked by two enforcers. One of the enforcers was the man who had made Eone’s skin crawl.

‘‘I’ve found something,’’ Eone announced calmly.

‘‘I’ve noticed. Not a complete waste of time then. What is it?’’

‘‘It’s a mosaic of a young man hunting a deer. Most likely the floor of an Arkantine temple or sanctuary.’’

Commissar Loleth looked at the mosaic and recoiled. ‘‘Ugh, how disgusting. I have no time for such obscenities’’.

‘‘Yes, ma’am.’’

‘‘Have you taken photographs?’’

‘‘Yes, ma’am.’’

‘‘Good,’’ the woman exclaimed. She turned to the skin crawler. ‘‘Destroy it’’.

The skin crawler nodded, turned and made his way back down the gravel path before disappearing from view. He returned a short time later brandishing a sledgehammer. Eone watched on helplessly as the enforcer took the sledgehammer to the mosaic with a savagery that made her shudder. The enforcer seemed to take perverse amount of pleasure in pummelling the young man’s naked body. Flecks of coloured glass and enamel were flicked up in the assault. Eone sensed a shard of stone approaching, and then felt a sting and wetness on her cheek. She touched her face and looked at her hand, noticing a red sheen on her fingers.

After about two minutes, the enforcer’s frenzied assault finally abated, and the mosaic was shattered beyond recognition. Satisfied, the Commissar and her cronies moved on to the next discovery. As rivulets of blood ran down her face, Eone grabbed her things and went to the checkpoint to receive medical attention. She remained at the checkpoint until it was time to leave, when she lined up with the rest of the team for processing. She handed back her Ministry-issued camera without incident, and then gave her phone to the enforcer on duty for inspection. As she handed over the phone, Eone noticed the commissar a short distance away, her ice-coloured eyes gazing at her intently.

‘‘This one seems to be in order,’’ the enforcer said, handing back Eone’s phone.

‘‘Good. Now ask her about her other phone,’’ the commissar exclaimed triumphantly.

Eone froze. ‘‘I’m sorry?’’

‘‘I saw you take a picture of that disgusting mosaic with an unauthorised device,’’ the commissar said matter-of-factly as she walked menacingly towards Eone. ‘‘If it’s not on that phone, then where is the device you saved it to?’’

‘‘I don’t have another device,’’ Eone protested.

The commissar strode forward and punched Eone hard in the face. The cut on her cheek began bleeding in earnest.

‘‘Shut your mouth,’’ the commissar spat. ‘‘Remember who you are talking to.’’ She turned to the skin crawler. ‘‘Search her!’’ the commissar cried.

The skin crawler undertook his task with relish. Eone stood, stone-faced, as the enforcer patted her down. The skin crawler was extremely thorough, and it wasn’t long before he found her secret phone. He held up the phone triumphantly, before handing it to the commissar.

‘‘Ah, that’s it. Now give me the password.’’

Eone meekly gave her the code. It was all she could do stop herself from vomiting on the commissar’s boots.

Commissar Loleth unlocked the phone and scrolled through Eone’s photos.

‘‘What exquisite photos. Still, you know the rules. Take her.’’

The skin crawler and the other enforcer grabbed Eone by her arms and dragged her down the gravel path towards a waiting truck. The skin crawler grabbed a black bag and forced it over Eone’s head, before shoving her into the back of the truck and slamming the door. The world went dark.

***

Eone woke up in a square, concrete cell. The cell was not long enough for her to lie down straight in, nor high enough for her to stand. All she could do was lie curled up in a ball and wait for death.

The iron door to her cell swung open with a loud thud. Two enforcers dressed in concrete-coloured uniforms dragged Eone into the corridor and hauled her to her feet. They escorted her through a maze of corridors until they reached what looked like an interrogation room. The interrogation room was empty except for a metal table and two metal chairs, one on either side. There were two doors leading into the room: the one that Eone had come through, and one on the other side of the room. The enforcers pushed her down into the nearest seat with a loud clang and chained her hands behind her back. Then the enforcers turned and left the room through the door they came in. As soon as they were gone, the other door to the interrogation room swung open, and in walking Commissar Ferez carrying a large envelope. Commissar Ferez sat down in the chair opposite Eone, and laid the envelope gently on the table.

‘‘Eiza, I am so disappointed in you,’’ the commissar said.

‘‘And I am so disappointed in you. Where were you?’’

‘‘Stomach trouble. Food poisoning, I suspect,’’ he smiled ruefully. ‘‘Now tell me why you felt the need to take your own photographs’’.

‘‘Why? So what we find isn’t lost to us forever. I cannot just stand by and watch our history being erased.’’

‘‘But it’s not being erased, Eiza. We are keeping meticulous records of every site, every discovery. Why else would the Ministry supply you all with cameras?’’

‘‘Our history doesn’t belong to the Ministry. It belongs to everyone. You can’t just lock it away. If people don’t know about it then it might as well not exist.’’

‘‘You keep saying our history. Those things we find out there, that is not our history. It is the history of barbarians. The history of the Other. If we are to build a better future, then you would do well not to dwell on the past, Eiza. To be strong we must be united, and to be united the country must be cleansed of everything that fosters division and discord.’’

‘‘Being united doesn’t mean we all have to be the same. Imagine if all the farmers in Ymira grew the same crop? Our differences are our greatest source of strength. Our different stories. We should be celebrating all of our histories, not seeking to hide them. You once thought as I do. How could you have strayed so far?’’

‘’I haven’t strayed. I have found my path. A better path. I am helping to build a new society. In order to build a new society, the old one must die. It’s no different from what the Eoneans did to the Arkantines.’’

‘‘That is not the same thing.’’

‘‘Isn’t it? How do you think the Eoneans took over from the Arkantines? By asking nicely? Do you think the Arkantines just abandoned their gods and started worshipping Eone because the Eoneans asked them to? You are dead wrong. What happened back then was not a quick and painless transfer of power. It was long and bloody, I guarantee it.’’

Commissar Ferez opened the envelope and pulled out two images, laying them on the table in front of Eone.

‘‘No doubt you recognise this first image: it’s a photograph of the fresco Kress found a few weeks ago. The second image is what happened when we scanned the image. We found a lot more than we bargained for. See for yourself.’’

The second image depicted the Grey Lady, but Eone immediately noticed another figure underneath. Unlike the robed and hooded Lady, the second figure was completely naked, with pink flesh, wide hips and sumptuous breasts. Her pose was as striking as it was familiar.

‘‘Blasphemy! You painted Silphia onto the fresco? You should be ashamed of yourself!’’ Eone’s eyes flashed with anger.

‘‘We had nothing to do with it. All we did was scan the fresco, and we found an image of Silphia underneath the Grey Lady. The only explanation is that the Grey Lady was painted over the top.’’

‘’You’re lying. This is a trick.’’

‘‘Eiza, be reasonable. Why would a fresco of the famously chaste Eone feature a dove with a sprig of silphium in its beak? This is not a trick, I promise you. This was an Arkantine fresco that was covered up by the Eoneans. Suppressed, if you will. The Eoneans tried to suppress worship of Silphia, just like the Ymirans suppress worship of Eone.’’

‘‘Oh I see, so because the Eoneans supposedly erased Arkantine history and culture, it’s okay for the Ymirans to do the same to the Eoneans?’’

‘‘It’s not about whether it is okay or not. It’s just the way the world works. What is happening now has happened before, and will continue to happen until the end of time. It is inevitable.’’

‘‘And what about me? What happens to me?’’ Eone asked, as Commissar Ferez carefully slid the images back into the envelope.

Commissar Ferez closed the envelope and sighed. ‘‘The Ministry is not interested in making you a martyr. You are hereby exiled from Ymira. Your apartment and all of your possessions have been forfeited to the State. If you ever return to Ymira, then you will forfeit your life as well.’’

With that final warning, Commissar Ferez opened the door and left the room. The next thing she knew, she felt hands gripping her firmly by her shoulders. An enforcer hauled Eone to her feet and escorted her to a room she did not recognise, where she found her clothes waiting for her. Eone quickly changed without complaint. When she was finished, the enforcer placed a bag over her head and led her through a maze of corridors. A door swung open, and Eone felt a cool breeze on her face. The world beyond the hood grew darker, and Eone knew that it was night. She felt herself being bundled into the back of a car. Doors opened and closed, an engine roared and tyres screeched as the car sped off into the darkness.

Fifteen minutes later, the car came to an abrupt halt. Eone’s escorts bundled her out of the car and guided her across a flat stretch of ground before leading her up a ramp. Feeling the ground beneath her bobbing from side to side, Eone knew that she was onboard the ship the commissar had spoken of. A strong hand yanked the hood from her head. Eone looked around, taking a moment to become acquainted with her surroundings. She then watched as the men who had escorted her to the ship disembarked, got into their black car, and drove off. A foghorn sounded, and the vessel heaved forward. At that moment, Eone was struck by the enormity of what had happened: she was gazing upon Ymira’s shores for what would likely be the last time.

Eone stood on the deck of the ship until the city she called Eonike became a glowing speck on the horizon. When the city finally disappeared over the horizon, she made her way down into the ship’s cabin. She saw a large wooden desk sitting in the middle of the room and looked through its drawers, finding a pen and notepad waiting for her. Eone picked up the pen, feeling its weight in her fingers. She may have lost her home, and her notebooks, but she had not lost her memories. Her memories would always be with her.

Eone closed her eyes and felt the dam she had built in her mind, the dam that held back her secrets from the world, finally burst. Her memories came flooding out like a torrent. She picked up her pen and began to write:

In the Year of Our Lady 397.9.25

Year of the Fall 67.2.30

On this day, we found a roadside shrine dedicated to the Grey Lady approximately 60 kilometres outside Skamnys…

Eone smiled. The task before her was enormous, but she had never been more prepared for anything in her life. The history of her people had been consigned to the shadows for too long. Now, with the stars as her witnesses, she would bring their stories to light.