Eurydice

1

I  stood at the edge of the pulsing crowd, listening to their murmurs and laughter. Peasants stood with hardly any space to breathe, yet a large gap stood between them and the herd of nymphs. The she-creatures preened their hair and smoothed down their dark, tight chitons. The humans never glanced at them; the men afraid of falling into a trance at the sight of their beauty, and the women disgusted by their immodesty. The nymphs wiggled their fingers and winked at husbands and bachelors alike, while I stood between the crowds, joining neither.

The breeze returned, colder this time, and I buried my smarting fingers into my threadbare shawl. If my father had been kind, or perhaps thought about someone other than his glorious self, I might have had a new one, but he only spoke with me yesterday to tell me of my new husband.

Apollo had offended the muse Calliope, and they decided to give me to her son, Orpheus. Tonight he would be playing his legendary music, and I had to wait for my betrothed to appear, and see what the young man was like.

I pulled my shawl closer around me, and heard my name whispered. "Eurydice? Eurdice?" I turned to look, but then the crowd started to cheer. Everyone clapped wildly as Orpheus stepped onto the low platform, a gleaming lyre in hand.

The first thing that caught my attention was the way he stood. His scrawny shoulders were kept back and he had a posture that screamed confidence. Orpheus' dark, stringy hair barely reached past his soft jaw, and his brown eyes swept over the crowd as he smiled. I found myself smiling back.

When the crowd finally calmed down, he said, "Thank you, everyone, for coming. I know many of you have followed me from my last concert to here, and I appreciate your dedication. I will now play Girl in Artemis' Light."

A popular folk song in this part of Greece. I saw the nymphs giggle and bat their lashes, as if Orpheus could see them through the crowd. Yes, I was half-nymph, but I did not understand their wild, flirty nature. I had even heard a few stories of Neieds kidnapping mortals they found attractive and accidentally drowning them in their rivers.

Orpheus played the first note on his lyre, and my head whipped towards the sound. I felt my lungs grow warm as he played, long nimble fingers plucking at the strings. His eyes were closed, and every word he sang felt like sunshine and spring in my chest. I fixed only on his voice and the lyre, his words a roar in my ears. It was a song of love and yearning, and Orpheus sang of a girl who danced at night. Her movements were graceful and lithe, and I could practically see her twirling before the stage. She was a blur, sweeping one leg before spinning on her toes again.

My whole body lost feeling, and not even the cold wind stirred me from my trance. Orpheus sang louder at the parts of agony, where he could never have such a girl, how she would dance away if he came too close. Tears burned in my eyes and I knew that I would never hurt him, never cause him such suffering. Women and men alike sniffled around me, as if remembering the same pain they've had in the past, the people who never returned their love.

Then before I knew it, Orpheus was done. I blinked, confused at the tears running down my cheeks. Everyone around me came into focus, and the icy wind burned my ears and wet face.

Soon the crowd came to their senses, and deafening applause broke out. People sobbed while giving their loudest cheers, and I clapped as best as I could manage with numb hands. Orpheus grinned, and a strange, unknown heat flew to my cheeks. Perhaps my father had made a good match after all.