"The Internal Gates"

“CRACK,” The rock hit the ground, “ CRAACCKK”, another rock hit the flat bed of gravel in the dusk, splitting in two as a pair of birds flew to escape the debris. Throwing rocks across the hillside was the only thing left for Iris to find his way back to the Godsland.

As he cracked the rocks in half he could remember for a split second his father Dimities, and mother Melees as they taught him how to start earthquakes, and mudslides across the earth. Waving their hands, as mountains started to crumble, and people ran for their lives while boulders hurtled their way. “Beautiful brushstrokes on a canvas”, his mother used to say. “Yeah, except that could be us down there”, Iris said, paving his way towards a path that would in the end lead to his banishment from home.

Nobody else in Greece dared to stand atop the hillside at dusk with wolves and snakes abound, it was just foolish. But Iris felt at home with his mortality at risk, and that made him feel something, not happiness but something close to it. If they had the word in Godsland it would be called “empathy”.

His banishment from the gods had begun long before his arrival in Greece. It all started when at the age of 200 (14 in human years) he started realizing how many people were being killed because of the actions of his parents. Everyday people were tortured as natural disasters started and diseases spread. There was nothing about this “work” that punished the immoral or shined a light on the actions of the righteous. Everything about it just came from boredom, and the need to entertain each other.

When it came time for Iris to start his first natural disaster he froze, only drying out a few ponds in an isolated part of Africa, which only resulted in the death of a few rhinos on the savannah. To his father he became a failure. When the Elder Gods found out what he had done, they were sickened by this pathetic display of power.

“You are a son of Dimities and this is what you offer?” His father shook his head, as they sat in the Garden of Hestia, which they called their home. Endless miles of anything you could imagine...literally. And this is what Iris liked to do; walk around until he found the edge of their “world” and create more and more land for people to travel that had anything he wanted; lizards, dragons, palm trees, and of course tigers.

This was his creative outlet, and this is what he had spent most of his young life doing. He called it the art of Topo. This all came crashing down though when he was pulled aside for his test of deification. He had to transform into this person he never wanted to be. Fearing the wrath of his elders, he fled from Godsland multiple times. Iris would run through the forest closing his eyes as the earth came to life around him. But he could never save what he created in Topo, it always disappeared before the morning bells chimed. A cruel trick the Elder Gods pulled.

On the day of his test for deification, Dimities and his mother Melees pulled him out of Deity School. They showed him the tornado they had created, which had hit Malta. It had been weeks of planning, to create the perfect scenario, where the island would be hit on all sides in the middle of the night. Malta the gods thought was full of disbelievers, who disrespected the teachings of the Greek gods, for their own pantheistic legion of deities.

“See this? This is pure beauty; this is what happens when they reject the idea of our previous warnings. Maybe now they’ll take notice.” Melees hugged Iris’s father as they looked onto their fountain with pride. The fountain revealed to the viewer any and all events that were happening on Earth. It should be said that Earth at this point is still only a 33000 BCE year old creation. Iris saw people flying across streets, and giant pieces of debris batter past houses, as smoke and dirt created a giant grey cloud, and families huddled together.

“What am I supposed to think of this?” Iris said.

“We are fulfilling the duties of our great ancestors, to alert the disbelievers. You should be happy, we have accomplished something here” yelled Dimities.

“You are killing the ignorant, and destroying the land in which you created”, screamed Iris, much to his and his parents’ surprise, they withdrew from hitting him. Dimities instead ripped the fountain from the ground and threw it down, hard, cracking immediately.

They both stared at each other for a while. No one had ever touched the great fountain with such anger before. Iris looked at him, terrified of the man who raised him. Terrified that he felt the same anger and strength course through his own blood, and wanted to retaliate. The next day he was banished.

The dishonor he was given was immense and although he hated himself for leaving, he loved his newfound freedom; one that had given him a reason, and an opportunity to help others. He was sentenced to 5 years in Greece as a 14 year old beggar. He spent his days observing people. From the streets you see much more than from when you look down from the clouds he thought. You notice people's flaws, their routes. You notice that you are a nuisance to many and a ghost to others. Eventually after 2 years in the streets, a man took pity on the poor boy, who would sort through his bins for bread every night.

This man was named Aros. He was a stocky, short man of generous spirit, but a tendency to move with great stress wherever he went. He reminded Iris of the giant frogs he once made during Topo. The ones he would ride through the reeds.

“This here is a spatula”, grumbled Aros “and over there, well that’s your oven.”

Aros pointed to the big open fire where some dough danced up and down, growing in the heat. “It’s pretty simple, you mix the yeast and the flour together, and then put them in there.” Iris stared at him, blinking. He often forgot how hard it was for humans to communicate. Back in Godsland people would just walk by each other and transmit thoughts, talking was childish as creating clouds. “Alright...moving on” Aros said as he kept on touring the kitchen.

“I’m sorry sir. I will grant you the best bread you will ever see from this oven.”

“Okay. Don’t get ahead of yourself boy”. Aros walked off, handing Iris a baker's smock as he left. Iris put on the dirty ensemble, with pride, even smelling the dough remnants.

Iris got to work. Everyday he would combine new salts, and spices in his dough, constantly refining this mixture until all his recipes were the perfect combination of savory and sweet. The other bakers didn’t understand how a poor beggar, who used to steal bread, had all of a sudden shown so much energy and discipline.

“I don’t get it...it’s like all those years in the bin he was studying us or something” Darius said as he watched Iris measuring out cups of fennel as he carefully poured it into the dough he was kneading.

Argus shrugged, and got back to mopping the floors. Argus and Darius were the two other bakers on the floor. Argus was the son of Aros. He was a mute, with an incredible talent for the lyre, although he was shy about it (unless he was drunk). Darius was the senior baker there and a best friend to Argus. He was a stern man who wasn’t too keen on some beggar boy intruding in on his hard-earned recipes. Iris was too focused to be bothered by it all.

As time went on, Iris and Aros collaborated a lot, until his little shop was earning credibility outside of the small island of Crete. Tradesmen and sellers soon got word of it, and the years to come would pick up bread for their voyages. At the time it was probably the best outpost in all of Greece, but Iris was not very happy, for he was evading his primary mission.

The secret he held onto, and the key rules of his probation on Crete was to make a choice: to either make himself be respected as a God or to send a mortal up to be deified in Godsland. He had the power to use himself as a portal for one person to ascend to the higher realm, but this would sacrifice himself in the process.

It had been over 4 years now and he had yet to select an ascendant. The Gods were growing angry with him. He thought as a beggar he would find someone, but it was hard when he felt empathy for every crying, sick or confused soul that came his way. He knew that if the 5 years ended and he hadn’t yet been elevated to a god by the locals or chosen someone as his ascendent, the Gods and in turn the portal he carried would decide his fate for him.

On a quiet day in the Spring, a young woman walked into the bakery. She carried two wicker bags and seemed to glide across the floor as she approached the counter. Her eyes were a spectacle of colors that you’d find in coral reefs. When she approached the counter, the ever-confident Iris became lanky, and aloof as she asked him a question.

“Hi. Is Darius in today?” she said.

“Hi, no, I mean I don’t think...” Iris turned around to the kitchen. “Darius!” There was no response. “I think he’s on break at the moment”. He paused for a few seconds. When his eyes met hers he couldn’t help but dart his back to the ground. ‘What is happening?’ He thought. This nervous energy was a new, ungodly feeling for him.

“Are you...okay?”

“Yes, I can actually help you though. If you want...?”

“ Great, I would like one loaf of Psomi, please,” she replied.

“ Yes, right away” he walked back to where Aros was, and asked “Where is the psomi?''. He stared at him befuddled, “I thought you made it this morning?” Aros pointed over to the top shelf where the bread was. “Of course,” he said, grinning. Iris grabbed the bread and retreated back to the counter, a bit embarrassed as he carried the still-warm loaf.

“Here you are,” he said, as he placed it on the counter.

“Thank you.” she said sweetly. She dropped the exact amount of coins on the counter. “See you around”. Iris grinned nervously, as he watched her exit out the door. There wasn’t just a beauty to her, he thought, but an effervescent quality. She looked like she had stories to tell and those stories lived in a book that few could read and even fewer could properly cherish.

As she walked into the afternoon sun, he also noticed a small white rose in her bag. She seemed to see him notice this, as she slid it back inside the bag as she rounded the corner.

From that day on, each day she would walk in, he would make sure he was working the counter and that her Psomi was prepared. Darius took notice that Iris had usurped what used to be his favorite customer, but he kept his head down, muttering away as he worked the kitchen. He knew that Iris would learn his lesson, someday, when he was off the clock.

Every Wednesday the girl would come into the shop asking for the same order. After a few weeks, a conversation between them that wasn’t about bread started to seem possible. But always she was quick to leave, before they could discuss anything too personal; before the book opened up that was bound tight behind her eyes. This, he thought, would make him feel the sense of connection he was looking for. To read the girl whose name he learned was Lantha.

One hot Summer day, Iris left work after an extra long shift where Argus was sick so he had more work to do than ever. He followed a gravel road down to the edge of an inlet, where he often bathed in, or fished at night. He liked it here, because the large limestone rocks made him feel sheltered and free from others. He also liked it because he could take care of the grove of white roses that Lantha had been planting.

Iris found this by accident one day when Lantha left her bag in the bakery. He ran down to find her by the inlet with a rose in her hand, and a sorrowful look on her face. As he called for her, she turned around and burst out crying, running past him as she tossed the flowers into the water. Iris felt terrible, he never felt such sadness from another person so intensely. His portal started to glow, feeding off the weight of her energy. He took the rose and planted it on a small dune away from the water's edge...far enough away to not be hit by the tide, and with some rocks circling around it for protection.

Lantha, when she saw this shrine of sorts, continued the tradition that this "stranger" had started. Every Wednesday evening after her visit to the bakery, Iris would walk past the inlet and see a new flower nestled in the dune. Iris was not really sure why she did this originally, but he imagined it was some sign of grievance. A very human affliction. As much as he wanted to be there for her, when she planted the flower, he remembered her tears and the quietude some humans prefer in those moments of reflection.

One day, a few months after this tradition began, Iris was so tired from working, that he fell asleep near the rose grove at the dunes. It was the sound of the small waves that helped rock him to sleep. It reminded him of his mother. She would use the Great Fountain to go to the waves of some far off land like Tahiti, and use her powerful fingers to gesture towards the water. It responded to its master by lapping against the rocks like her mother was a conductor. This to Iris was the most soothing sound imaginable, so he couldn't help but rest when he heard it again.

“What are you doing here?” Lantha said. Peering over Iris in the evening light as he sat curled up by the rose grove.

He looked up surprised to see the sun staring at his face since he had fallen asleep around the same time just a day ago. He wiped his eyes as he put his hand on the crusted rock to prop himself up.

“I’m sorry. I must’ve gotten sleepy”.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Lantha said.

“Why? I mean I didn’t know—” Iris started to say.

Lantha looked down at the now crumpled white rose in her hand and started to walk away. Iris started after her, shaking the sand off himself.

“Wait, wait, wait! Please. I...I didn’t mean to disturb you. I just. This place is special to me too”. Iris said as he finally caught up to her.

“I don’t believe you”.

“It is...I...I wasn’t trying to stalk you, I just noticed you hear one day accidentally, because you forgot one of your bags. But, this place...the water, the sounds. It just, it reminded me of my home so I fell asleep”.

“Home? You mean...you aren’t from Greece?” Lantha said. Iris started to blush, he wasn’t prepared for an answer like this. His stomach portal started to glow blue again, as his hands dashed down to hide it.

“Look, it’s a long story. But I was sent here by the Gods. I know, It sounds ridiculous...but if I can just show you something. Please?”

Lantha stared back at him, confused. After a moment, Iris began to take off his shirt. To this, Lantha started to back up a bit.

“No, I know! It’s not that. Just trust me okay. Remember, Psomi?”

“Just show me already! It’s getting late” Lantha retorts.

Iris continued to take off his shirt until the source of the glowing light was finally revealed. On his stomach was a swirling blue ball. It’s color and texture like that of a swirling atmosphere of a distant planet, something humanity would not see until years later when high powered telescopes revealed the beauties beyond Earth and humbled us.

Lantha took this in, with equal confusion and entrancement. She stepped forward a bit, staring at it.

After a moment, Iris walked into the water, as the glowing light danced across the current. In the center of the inlet he extended his hand to hers. “Do you trust me?”

“Um…I usually don’t take up offers from strange men with stomach diseases”.

“Okay, first of all. I’m not a 'strange man'. You know me. And second of all, you’re gonna want to see this. Now, come on”.

After a moment, Lantha began to take off her white cotton dress and join Iris in the pool, wearing only her undergarments. Slowly they meet in the water, and after a moment they are both waist-deep.

All is quiet. As Iris takes a deep breath he slowly places her hand above the portal, the light bouncing through her skin and bone like a flashlight.

“Once I met you at the bakery, I knew your eyes carried a thousand stories. When I came to this place I realized that this is where you hid them”

“Why are you doing this?” she asked.

“I don’t want the life I used to have. Eternal power…it’s quite boring honestly. But for you, I want you to visit Godsland and see what it’s like...to be pain free, and truly powerful. I want you to go there because I sense in you a great heaviness that could be healed by your ascension”.

Lantha simply stared back at Iris, as her eyes darted to her glowing hand.

“You could not imagine what is out there if you just dream a little.” Iris said, his voice calm again in the slowly lapping water.

Lantha flashed a smirk, almost believing him. As she took her hand away from the portal she began to lap away from him. Her eyes focused on the rose grove in the dunes.

“When my parents were killed in the great flood...I lost all faith. It was just me and my little brother. Now that he’s been taken up as a soldier, it’s just been me….I don’t think it’s nice for you to trick someone like this. Someone who’s really hurting, with no one to help”.

Lantha’s words cut Iris deep. He remembered the great flood, because his father started it. All because a group of herdsmen removed one of his statues to make way for a new trading road. Suddenly he felt like he was back in Godsland, and again the son of a sinner with no one to understand his plight.

“I’m sorry for your pain Lantha, but it’s not a trick….I can take you to a different world. Okay, yes, some of us Gods aren’t the kindest, but there are healers there. Hygieia is a good friend of mine. I can connect you...”

Lantha shook her head, as Iris' voice faded away. In her eyes carried tales of many men who’ve come along before her to try and save her. But in their way of saving there is little to offer except for deception and boyish desires hidden in their pockets.

“If you can’t bring them back to me, then I don’t want whatever magic you have to offer”. With this she started to place her feet back on the shoreline.

“But wait! I can...you have to trust me. Follow your eyes over here”

Lantha stopped at the edge of the water. Peering down she began to see the reflection of her parents, smiling as they sat along the coast together eating psomi. She leaned down further into the water, her eyes aglow with remembrance.

“They’re still there. Waiting for you”. Iris said calmly.

As she combed her hand through the water, the image rippled but did not fade. Iris walked over, knowing that now it was now or never.

“I know, it’s confusing, but I will show you. Take my hand and I can take you to a place where you will feel at peace with your pain. A place where you feel like none of those horrible things ever happened. And you’re together again.”

Iris had his hand outstretched to hers. Yet she continued to avoid his gaze. Her eyes wrapped up in her family.

“If I go...is there any coming back?”

“If you go, you become a God. The possibilities are endless”.

Her and Iris finally locked eyes. She saw in him, at that moment, the boyish nature of the many other men in her life, but underneath that sun-tanned facade…there was no deception in his eyes. No fingers crossed behind the back, or rage stirring. Just purity.

After a moment, Lantha finally took his hand. Slowly she started to turn blue and her form dissolved into water. Iris felt the the chill of her energy as it passed through his every cell.

The euphoric sensation of traveling to the Godsland madd Lantha feel so completely emptied of her grief. Like a feather rising towards the sky. As she traveled up to Godsland, angels lifted her arms, and whisper the sweetest of frequencies into her ears. She felt as if she were being hugged by all the kindest grandmothers in the world at the same time. But as she made her ascension, all of this stress and heartache that had been keeping her down before slowly fell back into Iris himself.

After what felt like an eternity, Lantha became fully absorbed into the portal. Iris opened his eyes to find himself floating deep inside the lake, his body heavy with grief. His portal now sealed up, like nothing ever happened. Feeling out of breath, Iris began swimming, but it took all his energy to finally breach the surface, like he was shackled by anchors of Lantha’s pain.

As he finally bursted out of the water, and laid on the beach, he was greeted by a pain in his chest, like an ice pick of ungodly pain drilling down. He winced, screaming in a most ungodly way.

As the angels continued to carry Lantha up, they finally reached the pearly gates. Here they had to pay off the Guards of Glory, since she is an exception to their usual devotees. As she made it inside the angels carefully placed Lantha down unto the Throne of Arrival (the space where all the gods say when they are about to be deified).

Before her there was an extensive banquet laid out of the finest drinks and offerings in all of Greece. Many she hadn’t seen since she was a kid. Everything was so specific to her liking...from the warm psomi, to the dark, plump olives, to the temperature of the Sardinian wine. It was all made to perfection and seemed endless.

All of this was of course no mistake. Iris’ parents had been expecting her, from watching life below in their newly restored fountain they determined she was the chosen one to ascend, and so they carefully studied what food and drink she liked best, even ones she had forgotten about. Iris had done well they thought...in giving them this new Ascendant, for they never stopped wanting a godly successor, even after all these years of reflection. Their desires for a succesor never changed. Lantha ate in quite euphoria, not ready to talk to anyone.

Back on Earth, Iris lay there crippled, he could only imagine the joy that Lantha was feeling, he couldn’t help but be envious of her, as he breathed heavily through his pain. The sun had fallen down, and the cold was starting to settle in. More than ever before he felt like a real human. There was something beautiful in knowing he could feel so much, he thought. Even if it was painful. This may have been his last thought on earth...dependending on how the gods favored his fortune.