The Muse of Fire

“The weird sisters, hand in hand,

Posters of the sea and land,

Thus do go about, about:

Thrice to thine and thrice to mine

And thrice again, to make up nine.

Peace! the charm's wound up. “

“Are you still reminiscing about past victories? Oh come on, Mel, yes The Bard was amazing and all that, but can you come up with something better that isn't six centuries old, and moldering more and more every day?”

“Sarkasma, darling, just because you're younger doesn't mean you're better. His works, what little the humans recovered, still resonate deep. Recall, please, that age and treachery will overcome youth and skill.”

“Quoting one of mine again?” Athletia bounced into the ancient stone circle, and flopped into a chair with all the grace she could muster – and considering what she was, it was quite a considerable amount. Brightly colored cushions appeared just before her linen chiton would have hit the hard stone seat.

“Oooh, has the pissing match started? I don't want to waste my shot!” Miouzikala grinned toothily in anticipation of the brewing competition. “See what I did there?”

Clio and Scientia glanced at each other and rolled their eyes. They didn't have to say it: Here we go again...

Urania glanced up beyond the roaring bonfire at her charges in the velvet sky. “Interesting celestial conjunction. Let me guess, Apollo's hosting a poetry slam again? It always makes us restless, he knows that.”

“And when has he given a rotten fig for our comfort? And the younger ones are much more susceptible, poor things.”

“He says he's gotten Ideas since that sojourn north. Forget holding court like he used to, or even civilized salons, now it's wine, women, and song in a feast hall! Apollo-Halla, can you just even?”

“Bacchus' revel hall is better,” murmured Trygosa, as she reached for her mead goblet. It was no coincidence that Zythopoiia reached for her own mug of perfectly frothing beer at almost the same moment.

“Ah, speaking of the twins...” Erotica and Erato dragged themselves into the circle. Erotica was eager to join the incipient argument, but Erato looked like she wanted to be anywhere else but here. The problem, of course, is that from the waist up they were separate individuals – but from the waist down, they were still conjoined. It made for awkwardness, the likes of which were despised by the other ladies in the firelight.

“I have two of my own for the game! They're great in the movies, elevating sex to an art level!”

“Oh, drop it! They're both in jail, because they gave in to Himeros' urgings! You should disavow them – here, look, this one is absolutely perfect! She's smart, funny, and quite articulate in her advice column – wait, never mind, I'm claiming her as my own, you can't have her!”

Calliope and Thalia stared at the hair-pulling contest that erupted over those words. Stared at each other, stared at the cat fight. Mouthed, “Yours or mine?” and played Rock-Paper-Scissors to determine whose purlieu this debacle fell under.

Melpomene glared at a particular shadow giggling behind an empty chair. “Eris, this isn't funny! You're not supposed to divide us like this!”

“I can't help it, 'sister.' It is my nature, you know that.”

“And I also know you can limit your influence. I was just reading my favorite author, who also happens to be one of the best of all time. This -” Mel waved at the fiasco playing out, with various onlookers cheering them on or trying futilely to break up two people who were joined together, “is an epic disaster.”

Thalia bark-laughed. “Epic! Hah! Yours, Cal, not mine!” And Calliope sighed in defeat.

Sarkasma snickered. “Mel, change your name to MelpoMEME to be more relevant, that should work!”

Terpsichore's voice was so dry the marble cracked at her feet. “Cal, now that you've settled your side bet, could you kindly Do Something about this? Their staggering about is not even close to dancing, and I have my own favorites I'd rather watch than this, this, debacle.”

Panolethria spoke up from her own chair. “Terp, I am not even remotely responsible for this. I have Murphy's Law as my pinnacle example, thank you very much. Or the Battle of Actium. There can be a decided elegance in disaster, as many of you can attest to, when we collaborate.”

“And I am no longer your leader, so it means naught.” That caught everyone's attention, and the fight stopped. They stared at Calliope, slumped in her chair as if it were a fainting couch.

Sarkasma spoke, because Sarkasma dared. “Cal, what? Have you been replaced?”

“Not replaced. Surpassed. Mom is back, and she is not happy.”

“Indeed, -deed, -deed, and I am most displeased, -pleased, -pleased.” The echoes in the Voice hit the girls where it counts – in the mind. There were moans and yelps till the bonfire died, and a flare brighter than the sun settled on the biggest chair.

She was glorious. She was Fire Incarnate, she was the Divine, she was incomparable beauty. And she was Angry.

And with a swoosh of willpower, she was in female form, sitting like a queen on a throne.

Empnefsi had returned.

“I am very unhappy, my errant children. When I chose to divide myself, and compare parts, this was not the comparison I had in mind. You were created to interact with the humans, raise them up, urge them to be better than their limited view! Teach them to look to the horizon, then instill in them the urge to look beyond! And once they had learned the limitations of their world, to reach the limits and far, far beyond what they can imagine! And what are you doing with the gifts you have been given? Reducing yourselves to the worst traits of the people you were created to upraise, and... petty squabbling? Popularity contests?”

There was silence. Even Roptro, one of their youngest sisters, kept quiet.

“So. I return to chaos and disorder, when I thought I would see a paradise of creativity. Collaborative efforts, overarching beauty, workshops stocked to rival Hephaestus himself. Where are they? Where are the arts? The crafts? The sciences? The eye-searing beauty of design, the breathtaking artistry of mechanism? Voice? Instrument? Tomes of intelligence and reason? The irony is not lost on me, thank you Momus all the same.”

He, being named, stood up from the shadows and paced forward. “I am sorry, Lady, but how can I resist? All this disrupted energy to feed upon! Your daughter-sisters are a feast for the likes of me, and who am I to willingly starve when the banquet is unattended?"

“Ah, is that how it is? You have evolved to become predators on your own kind, instead of also using your own impressive gifts to enhance yours, and their, work?”

“It is easier, Lady. The humans adore laziness, why should we not emulate them?”

“Because they are the weaker creatures. You, being the stronger, emulate them instead of making them stronger? That is insane. It makes no sense, being lazy. A lion does not dream of being a baby gazelle, helpless and vulnerable. You were given great power to do great work. Where is your army of beings, who should be celebrating your strength with you, sharing in your combined creation?” He was silent. “And so it is, when you give in to your baser nature. As will happen to us all, when you give in. And who else hides in the shadows? Eris, Ate, Enyo, Mammon, come forth!”

And they did, reluctantly, to stand in the light of Empnefsi.

“You are banished from this place. You have fed on my daughters, who are my sisters, who are myself. You are bloated with food, but have nothing to show for it. You need to take your poison elsewhere.”

Eris laughed, a bitter sound. “Nothing? Hah! And I will take my prototype with me. Come, Narcissus, the experiments I have done on humans since then have yielded the most rotted fruit. Named for you! They have done more damage than even I imagined, and I have learned much about the imagination since I have lurked here. Come, chaos and disorder await us!” She vanished, and so did the others.

The Lady sighed. “And now you have much work to do, undoing your own indolence. Here, I find you dwelling on your past and present victories, and ignoring the vast majority of your charges. Get moving! You are my own, my 'coven of creativity.' It is beyond time to reach out to more than your darling specials, and instill some hope and challenge back in this world!

“To fully illustrate my point, look behind you.” The women turned, and they stared. Amorphous blobs surrounded them, like shapeless masses, but glowing, shifting. “Those are your sister-children. The ones that will be born in the future,when the cross-crafting of the various media of expression you have been responsible for come to fruition, and make something new. New disciplines, new ways of thinking. What you are supposed to represent, the fundamental core of each and every one of you.

“But also the warning. The ones that aren't moving? Even the substance your chairs are fashioned from? Those are the ones that will never be created – because you didn't do your jobs. You didn't hunt for the oddballs, the shy, the scared, the hidden. Ideas died a-borning, as they say. The failures of your lives. Most of them will never come again, because you decided dawdling here was more important.”

Tears fell in paradise, for the number of the glorious that will go unfulfilled.

“I am Empnefsi. The Romans named me correctly, Inspirare. The very breath of Life, the drawing-in for the creative that gives form to a creation. I am the spark, the flame, that will never die. Remember me. Remember yourselves! Become the creatures you were meant to be!”

Erato and Erotica sighed, nodded. And as each took a step sideways, suddenly there were two creatures instead of one.

The Lady nodded. “Just so! Go, and do the work. Melpomene, my heart, you called me back unawares with your invocation. Please pass your book to Calliope, also my heart? Darling, you know which spell to read, to dismiss us to the world of humans.”

The heavy book landed in Calliope's lap, open to the correct passage. She smiled in delight as she read clearly, watching her sisters leave, knowing she would join them soon in the earthly dance:

“O for a Muse of fire, that would ascend

The brightest heaven of invention,

A kingdom for a stage, princes to act

And monarchs to behold the swelling scene!”