Shattered

Dreading.

5 Years past:

"For the last time, Medea! No, I refuse to open the kingdom gates. You know what this means to our family and the throne! It is sacred, and we will not fall, not on my reign!" Thundered King Aeëtes of Colchis, his face red with frustration and rage. Medea's face was downcast, but her voice was steely cold as she looked her father dead in the eyes. "You deserve to be overthrown. I pray someone does take the fleece." Even as she heard the words tumble out from her heart, Medea knew she had made a mistake. Her father's hand came down with anger on her face. Falling to the side because of the impact of his slap, Medea cowered in fear before the king. But his biting words hurt far worse than the hit of his hand. "You are a disgrace to the royal family. I have done this all for you, and you throw it all back in my face. Leave my presence at once." Medea turned and ran, tears blurring her vision. She ran until she was lost, and then broke down exhausted, her cries echoing through the dark forest...

Present day, Colchis.

"Hear me, O goddess of night and magic! Take this offering from me, your humble servant. Be pleased with my sacrifice, mighty Hecate!"

Medea's words reverberated hauntingly in the shrine around her, as she made her routine offering to the goddess. Her ritual garments shimmering, she slowly backed away from the altar, head bowed in quiet respect for Hecate and her temple.

Outside, thunder rumbled and roared. The rain came in a torrent, gushing over the dusty streets. Medea made her way slowly down the hill on top of which the temple was located, and down into the city.

Walking.

Regretting.

Regretting everything. The stubborn tyrant her father was.
The fact that she wasn't allowed to leave the island. The fact that she had never met a soul that hadn't known her since birth. That their city was regarded as barbaric. Enough, her mind screamed.

The crashing, flaming sky told her that on Olympus, something was brewing. Everything felt unsettled, but the cold that had seeped down into Medea's bones was all too familiar. Halfway to her home, Medea veered from the path and turned into the woods. Walking farther, she came to a clearing. In the center of the clearing there stood two large trees that had grown together at the base. She walked through a door-like opening between them, continuing into a narrow hall shrouded in greenish mist. "Are you home, Niera?" Medea called. A soft voice like the whispering of leaves responded from within. "Medea, is it you? Come on in, and sit down! It has been a long time!"

Medea's oldest friend, the dryad Niera lived isolated in the wood, but to Medea, her life seemed like a fairy tale. Far from the bustle and dust of the city, Niera's serene, vibrant way of life was like a breath of fresh air to her burdened friend. Niera's hair was a vibrant shade of spring green, and it cascaded down her small frame like the leaves of a willow tree. Her face was pale, and beautiful in an ethereal way. Her brown eyes glittered golden as she greeted her friend.

"How have you been, my dear Medea? Sit, and tell me about the days since I saw you last!"

In the sage-scented breaths that she took, Medea began to relax. "Nothing changes. I'm going to die here! An old maid! I still can not leave the island. My father grows still more stubborn. I miss the man of my childhood, who was carefree and happy. Ever since the prophecy revealed to him fifteen years ago, he has grown older, lined with worry, and uncaring. The seven years that I knew him to love and cherish me were the best of my life. Now I despise him, and our town's reputation. What he has done to it; to me. He guards his throne day and night, with no thought as to how it affects us all." Medea finished with a sigh. "My duties as a priestess and my visits with you are all I have to look forward to."

Niera's gaze on her friend was sympathetic, as she offered comfort given many times before. "Medea. You know how I long for that day when you will meet someone new and special, and I know that day will come. It may be sooner than you think! Your father loves you. He believes he is doing this for you. Think about it, but do not let your mind get carried away with you. You are clever - but you are angry. And for good reason. But the combination is dangerous."

She smiled with her next thought. "It is a shame that handsome man Bacchus did not stay long. You never tired of his company."

A wistful laugh escaped Medea's lips. "That was years ago. A young one's summer, nothing more. He always felt so...powerful. I knew he could not stay long."

"You never know," replied Niera with a gleam in her eye, "do not completely write him off just yet."

"Such a hopeless romantic you are, Naide. He was on to bigger and better things." A smile softened Medea's face as she recalled warm, breezy summer nights, memories shimmering in silken red, his lips close to hers. Shaking off the vision, Medea's gaze hardened once again. "I must be on my way. My mother will worry."

"How is Lydia, by the way?"

"Mother is well. She still dreams of a beach wedding for me as Chalciope had."

"We all do, Medea. And unlike you, we haven't given up on that dream. Run home, and give your parents my love."

"Thank you Niera. I have enjoyed our visit, and thank you for the encouragement."

And with a wave, Medea left and continued on towards home, dreading what awaited her there.