The Last Prophetess

Part 5

I hungrily consume my surroundings, alive with colors and sounds that revive my dull senses. I cannot stop drinking in the sparkling flowers; the deep purple irises are waving in the gentle breeze and the apple blossoms' sweet fragrance floats over the air. Smells of warm foods and spices envelop me and I want to follow them wherever they lead. Cerulean skies stretch out over me and the vivid grass tickles my feet, opening my eyes to an undiscovered world.

Most of all, I cherish the people. They don't look as young as I remember, but I wish to make new memories. Laughter peals through the gleaming streets, for mighty Troy is saved! My own laughter bubbles up inside me as I follow the crowd toward the gates of the city. I am tempted to forget the past, to crow in Apollo's face because my city stands strong.

Reaching the gates, I hear the people murmuring with uncertainty. "What's wrong?" I whisper to the man next to me. "Look up," he replies. I crane my neck to look at the endless sky but instead I am surprised by a colossal horse made entirely of wood towering above us.

A tingling sensation creeps onto my legs and up my spine as I suddenly realize I cannot move my body or cry out for help. The tingling gives way to the feeling of ice cold fingers walking up my back; they push into my brain and seem to pluck out my eyes and ears, because the world suddenly goes black and my hearing becomes muffled. I am slowly suffocating, as if I am submerged in the darkest depths of the sea.

An image sears into my mind leaving a sharp pang of agony: the great horse I just saw, except it is in the heart of the city and out of its mouth it spews the same fire of desolation that Helen brought with her. Shadows writhe and swirl inside, seeping out slowly and laying waste to everything in their path. I fight to breathe and escape the horrible vision gripping me in its clutches.

Relief floods through me when I feel my muscles loosen up and the darkness disperses, but now I hear the people asking to take the horse inside. "A trap!" I gasp in alarm. The same man turns to face me and frowns in confusion. "What did you say?" I push past him to the front of the crowd, standing before the wicked statue. Troy is my only home and I would die to save it.

"Trojans!" I cry desperately. "Listen to me! Do not bring that horse into our city! Would you have your homes destroyed and your children burned? Instead, raze this awful horse with me!"

Rather than moving, the people stand there stupidly, blinking at me. Some begin to complain, "Why is she back?" and "I thought that madwoman was long gone!" Others proclaimed, "The horse is a gift of peace from the Greeks!" I groan inwardly. They will never learn.

I am about to destroy the horse myself when a voice makes me stop in my tracks. "She is right," it says. I whip around, my eyes searching for the one who said those precious words. A bearded man steps forward with his two sons trailing behind him. "I am Laocȯȯn, a priest," he explains. "And I agree with this woman. We must destroy this horse, for I fear the Greeks even when they bear gifts."