Shattered

Waiting

Long after night had settled into the air and the moon had gone down over the houses and the horizon, Medea sat up waiting for her father to come home. Hours past overdue, a tension had descended upon the house that silently whispered the King's absence. When he had not shown up for the evening meal, no one had worried, because sometimes he would stay out past nightfall, relieving the stress of the day down by the water. However, hours after that, Medea's family started to distress.

In an old, worn armchair by the hearth sat Medea. This chair was her favorite place in the house. In her younger years, it had been there that her father would sit with her for hours, telling her stories of his childhood. It had been a place of great comfort, but it provided no rest that night.

The door flew open and Medea sat up with a start. She groaned with a building worry as she recognized her brother Absyrtus walking in. 7 years older than Medea, he was tall and intimidating. She had never been as close to him as he was to Chalciope, because both of them played the role of obedient oldest children. Medea, however, had always been more defiant and independent.

"No sign of him. I'm afraid something happened to him."

"You did your best, Ab. Thank you for looking. Have some dinner now, and you can stay here in the extra bedroom until we find father."

With a sigh, the siblings sat down.

"I checked all over the town for him. I checked at his very favorite harbor spot, and at the small cottage by the marina that he goes to when he needs to unwind. He is not in his throne room, or at Phrixus and Chalcie's home. They had not heard from him."

An hour later the King had still not shown up. Medea and Absyrtus had just resolved to rest and figure he'd appear in the morning. Then the door once again flew open.

"Father," cried Medea, relief strong in her voice, "where have you been? We were so worried!"

The king, normally upright, confident, and powerful now looked worried and intimidated. Fear could be glimpsed in his stormy grey eyes. He sat down before giving an answer. "Foreigners," he rasped gravely, "and they wish to negotiate for the fleece. No! I swore the prophecy would not stop me. It can not. This usurper will not rob me of my throne."

"Father," Absyrtus spoke, "Why have you not simply killed the man who wishes to take the fleece, as has always been the custom with strangers in the past?"

Conflict stirred deep in Medea's heart. Upon hearing of the invasion, emotions awakened within her that she had dreamed of so many times before. Years had passed since that dreadful argument in the throne room, but Medea would not soon forget the harsh words of her father. "You are a disgrace...leave my presence at once..." she shook off the bad memory. They had patched the relationship since, but it had never quite been the same and a cold, clear flame still rekindled in her soul when the thought of escaping entered her mind. Running away, with someone who loved her, leaving a city that had been labeled barbaric. She longed to feel honored, loved, thrilled. A ship full of newcomers could be the way out. No, she said inwardly, My loyalty has to be to my father. Bitterness crept over her heart.

The king spoke in reply to his son. "There are many heroes. They are close to invincible individually, but together, they would be unbeatable. I have even heard rumors that Heracles is among them. We would lose far too many soldiers trying to get rid of them all. My conscience will not allow me to make a sacrifice of that many lives. No, this will take planning, scheming. But to make it worse, my very own grandsons, Argus and Phrontis, are among the crew of the Argo. Argus built the ship himself, which I admit, is a grand accomplishment. This is devastating, but I will not let them overthrow me. I can not let them succeed. I shall defy prophecy, and the world will hail me, King of Colchis, as mighty and exalted."

And with that, he retired to his bedroom, sighing as he went.

Medea, distressed though she was at seeing her unbreakable father and king so weak, was bursting with excitement. The thrill, the adventure of meeting a fresh soul. The night seemed to stretch before her like miles of unending black water. She finally slept, dreaming of what the morrow would bring...