Of Waves and War

6: far away from those he loves

Eulises

This has been a not at all minor set back. I take brief comfort from my knowledge of herbs and potions. It may save my mouth yet. I have need of it. Eating and drinking for one, speaking for another. I am quite suffocating with my thoughts.

Calypso saw fit to release me to do my dark deeds in the forest where I'm not bothering her even if apparently I'm more pleasant silenced. I suppose she expects it to last till the evening when she'll have need of me again. So for now I am free to return to my occupation of escaping her clutches, just so soon as I free myself from her spell. I'm only consoled by my general surprise that this is the first time she's done this to me.

When I was a boy, my mother permitted me to hunt with her brothers and my cousins on Mount Parnassus, my grandfather's home estate. This was all together pleasing to me, but worried my father who feared I would do myself an injury or become more corrupted in their presence. My mother said it was worth the risk to get me out of the house.

Anyway. My cousins were skilled in various dark arts. When a great boar sliced my leg clean open, they stopped up the bleeding with just a few herbs and spells. Later, they would undo a spell cast on an unfortunate deer, and yet another on a hound. I was a quick study, more interested in undoing spells than casting them, for I knew myself well even then.

And what I gleamed from it was a few general herbs that when mixed properly can break or at least prevent a spell. I had occasion to use moly once before but then it was given to me by a god and I have no idea if he prepared it at all. I'm hoping on this enchanted island I can find it once more.

I find some, deep in a grove in the forest. Along with some good dry wood for the signal fire I shall prepare later. Just because my signal fires have been unsuccessful so far has not yet stopped me from trying.

I don't think cramming crumbled moly onto my cursed lips will work but it actually does, and soon I'm spitting out the horrible, deep grey, tar like substance she filled my mouth and throat with.

Once I'm through vomiting, I gasp for breath.

"Dearest one, please know that I am striving to return to you. That no spell will stop me and while the witch is holding me I am doing what I can with this situation. For I love you in your entirety, and always shall. Just as I promised you," I whisper, still breathing deeply after my mouth trapped as it was. "I do love you more than words can name."

Tears leak down my cheeks. Why does this get harder each day? Oh yes, because I lost weeks of work and nearly got suffocated today. That's why today is worse.

"Yet you are more perfect each day, sweet one," I say, picking mint to chew for the taste of the spell. I save some moly, lest she try the trick again, stuffing it into a pocket before carrying on.

I make my way down to the farthest beach, gathering fire wood as I do. This remote part of the island is where I write messages in the sand, using rocks. Usually 'help me' or 'stranded' or 'save me' or something clever to that effect. The nymphs check every other day so I usually go out each day and redo it. They admire my tenacity even if they hate the extra chore.

I make my way down to the shore, it's nearly dark by the time I get there and finish my stones. The signal fire is ready but of course no ship comes. I sit and watch, weary already though I doubt if I will get any sleep tonight. I blow a kiss across the ocean, brining my cupped, calloused palm to my lips for a long, sweet moment, pretending she is in front of me for me to press my hand to her cheek.

"Bet you I'll get home," I whisper, tears falling unbidden, pitiful as a child, as I pray for salvation.