Perseus: The Myth

Childhood

Perseus, at age six, was a peculiar child. For one, his apearence. Glossy black hair that was always ruffled and eyes that interchanged between a light blue and a stormy gray. He had the standard sun-kissed skin of the Persians, which matched his sun-kissed personality.

Despite being young, he was exceptionally wise for his age and often talked to the elder slaves. The women would coddle the child while the men would teach the youngster how to read and write, as they believing it important, seeing they were not born slaves. It brought joy in their hearts to have such a young child around, as though, through him, they too could enjoy the quirkiness of youth, again.

Perseus had been working for about a year now in King Gabriel's kitchens and as many would have already predicted, it was not pleasant. The work was long and grueling for a 20 year old to wash and scrub constantly twelve hours a day, much less a six year old. It did not help that the king was using up more plates everyday.

Perseus swore the man liked to see him suffer, especially.

You see, he didn't exactly have the best relationship with the ruler. King Gabriel wasn't actually a king. He was simply a noble that controlled around three small towns in Persia, but his ego proved different. He, in his younger years, had seized control over these towns from the main ruler of the area.

Now, he gorged himself on meals brought to him by slaves.

The woman who volunteered to raise him was a maiden by the name Sally. She was easily the most kind of the slaves and the best cook.
And, Perseus adored her. He strived to make her happy, make her proud. The world seemed to revolve around her and only her. He always tried to be her knight in shining armor as repayment for the kindness she showed him.

Most of all she was his mother.

Unfortunately, the young woman's life did not last long.

Perseus' day had started like any other. He was called awake at dawn by his mother in order to escape slave lashes (the guards did not grant leniency  to small children) and was bustled downstairs to have his watered down porridge and water. His mother explained the day's work.

"The King is in a bad mood this morning which means he will use more plates. You know he eats quite a bit when upset, dear."

Perseus nodded and bit back a groan.

"Quite a bit" was an enormous understatement. It was bad enough that the king seemed to eat 12 course meals three times a day, but in his "consumption moods" (as the slaves dubbed it) he ate a 26 course meals...Five times a day. And the dishes just seemed to pile up. . .

He shook himself from his thoughts. It would do no good just thinking about it. There was things to do and kings to please, and so he set about his work, scrubbing dishes, dunking them in the washing buckets, and handing them to an elderly slave by the name of Moris, to dry them.

Moris was a walnut of a man. His face was brown and leathery from working in the sun, his features looked like they were chiseled from rock, but the sculptor had left him outside for a few years. . Deep wrinkles lined his face and his once perfect nose was bent from the times he had broken it. His body was thin and frail, but his mind was not, for he, at 72, was the eldest and wisest man in the slave quarters.

At the moment he was drying the many dishes that were sent his way by Perseus, while telling him a story. This was not uncommon, as it was a way for the two slaves to keep working without stopping if they listened to a story while their hands automatically did their trade.

"Today I shall tell the story of Leilah and Majnun," started Morris.

Perseus smiled excitedly. He looked forward to these stories.

"Once there lived two children named Qays and Leilah-," he was interrupted by Perseus.

"What about Majnun?," he asked.

"I shall get to that, young one," said Morris patiently.

"Now, these two children were childhood friends for many years. Eventually the two fell in love with one another, but Leilah's father, a merchant, refused to allow them to wed. Qays was devastated and wandered the streets of the town writing and calling out poems about his love for Leilah, many that have been written down in a book. The towns people eventually called him Majnun, which means "possessed" or "madman". Later when Leilah was married off to a rich merchant, like her mother, Majnun's heart broke even more. He wandered the deserts, calling out for the love of his life. Leilah eventually died from not being able to see Majnun and when he came to her grave, he died too, but not without engraving one of his poems on her gravestone."

"What was the poem?" asked Perseus excitedly.

"The poem," said the old man before him, "goes:

I pass these walls, the walls of Leilah

And I kiss this wall and that wall

It is not the walls that enrapture my heart

But of the One who dwells within them"

Perseus opened his mouth to comment, but when he stepped forward, he tripped on the bucket of water and dropped the dish he was holding on the stone floor. The porcelain shattered under the watchful eye of the guard.

The guard grins menacingly at Perseus, his eyes beady.

"Now, now, slave, you've been a naughty boy," he sneered.

His hand reached for his whip and unsheathed it from its holder.

Perseus quaked with fear. He knew that there was a slight chance an adult could make it out alive, much less a six year old. He closed his eyes an waited for the pain.

"Noooo!"

The sudden scream made him open his eyes. Sally was writhing on the cold floor taking whip after whip. Her chest was heaving and her mouth was open in a scream. Perseus's blood ran cold at the sight of his mother. When the guard walked on, he crouched next to her.

"Mother, mother, wake up," he cried softly.

His mother reached up and brushed the tears from his face, before the light left her eyes.

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The world without someone you love is an odd thing. As though the color was leached from the world in your eyes and feel as though you shall never feel joy again. That was how Perseus felt.

That night he allowed himself to grieve. Then when the moon reached its highest point, Perseus acted. He grabbed his satchel, a gift from his mother and quietly snuck out of the slave quarters.

He slipped into his shoes and made his way past the various guards toward the window of the cellar, only a few inches off the ground. He slowly pried it open with his little hands and slipped inside.

He stuffed some of the guard's food inside his satchel, apples, celery, chicken, rice. His eyes widened at the last one. The king had declared it a gift from the gods. The grains were easy to prepare in boiling water and stew could be put on top. Even better, it did not rot easily, as the grains were dry.

Perseus also snagged a whip from the nearby hanger and a sword plus sheath from a table. He would need weapons. Then he spun on his heel and made his way to the wood.