MEDEA

02

02|dragon's lullaby

I returned to Colchis a woman, not the scab kneed child I had been sent to Aeaea as.

After training under Circe for eight long years, she deemed me fit to be a priestess to lady Hecate, capable of darker deeds than her. With my knowledge and abilities, I would be an asset to my kingdom.

Yet my age of sixteen worried my father. My younger sister had already been married off; only my twelve year old half brother Abysirtus remained. An unwed girl was both an embarrassment and a sign that her father could not find a suitable alliance. Nothing could humiliate Aeetus more.

No man would willingly volunteer to marry Circe's right hand pupil, no matter how large the dowry.

So he stowed me away until he could find me a husband, refusing to let visitors see me, only consulting me to the war room when he needed my skills to conquer another kingdom to fuel his insatiable greed.

My only saving grace was the temple for Hecate, built on the cliffs bordering Colchis. A small gift from Aeetus and a show of kindness to convince the people of his non-existent compassion. It was not far from the palace and I was the only one who visited it. Beyond it, apple orchards covered the land.

It was a small building made of black obsidian. The stone was weathered from winds that carried salt water and the inside was a dimly lit space that smelt of incense and wood. The restless Black sea stretched out below, wave after wave swelling up and crashing down, an endless rhythm of chaos.

I spent most of my time there, at the foot of the statue of Hecate. Carved from black marble, it held a flaming ternal torch in each hand. I practiced my witchcraft and potion making there, away from the prying eyes of people, for Circe's reputation was not the only thing that had followed me.

Whispers once about how I was cursed changed to talks about the bastard witch that lived on the cliff.

But none of that bothered me.

My daily life had taken on a constant routine. Early mornings were spent in the temple, where I would lay hew flowers on the altar and leave offerings of fresh fruit and candles. Then I would attend to my father and his various orders. Aeetus was a vile being and I hated those times in particular.

Finally, I would try to spend time with my brother. Both of us had lost our mothers and I desperate to connect with him, to stop him from becoming like his father, but he remained cold and sneering.  Aeetus disapproved of us spending time together, naming me to be a bad influence but I chose to ignore him.

Absyrtus was young, not yet a man but he was as tall as our father and strong as an experienced soldier. However, he struggled in all the basic lessons that required him to use his mind and was quite backwards. I tried to help but the slow boy often irritated me.

After all this, I would be free to do as I wished. I would go back to the cliff until the sun was low but given a chance, I would sneak into the sacred juniper grove of Ares.

A single, sturdy oak tree stood in the center of the grove. On its branches hung my father's most prized possession. But my reason for being there was the giant serpent coiled around the tree's base, protecting the invaluable treasure.

The dragon was a gift from the war god Ares, who favored my father, both sharing many similar traits.

The beast's hind limbs and wings had been hacked off, preventing it from leaving, binding it to the grove forever. People mistook it as a giant snake often. It lay twisted, never sleeping, never moving, forever on guard.

I had a secret though.

With a little aid from the goddess of sorcery, I sang lullabies to the dragon, my soft voice laden with sleeping charm. It's eyes would droop slowly and soon, the dragon would drift into a blissful sleep.

I sang to him about the starry night skies, the color of blood, his beautiful scales and my frustrations about my mundane life.

If Aeetus discovered this little time pass of mine, his rage would know no bounds.

And thus a year passed. The first day of autumn once again arrived with a fiery explosion of hues.

It was also my birthday. Staying away from the family had isolated me and I didn't expect anyone to remember it. So I preoccupied myself with making various potions in the temple, brews that restored health and vitality, tonics that infused extraordinary strength in the drinker. The preparations were difficult and my arms ached after hours of stirring thick liquids.

In the evening, as I left the shrine, two servants girls crossed my path, heading towards the apple orchard. They were giggling loudly and didn't notice my presence, sending a stab of annoyance through me. After all, I was royalty.

"What is it that you find so amusing?" I asked, stepping in front of them.

They flinched, wilting like flowers in the blazing mid noon sun.

The girls could not have been older than me, yet fear filled their eyes. I had been told I was pretty, in an intimidating way. My blue-green eyes and pale hair did not do me any favors. Light colored features were uncommon in the Mediterranean and considered a bad omen.

"Men from Greece have arrived in the docks, your highness," said one girl. Her name was Kleonis, I think. The other's I could not remember.

I frowned. "More Greek scum?"

They nodded, their heads bobbing up and down.

The only Greek I knew well was Phrixus. His father remarried after his nymph wife left him but the jealous step mother wanted her children on the throne someday and convinced the king to sacrifice his first born children. Chrysomallos, a golden ram, saved Phrixus and brought him to Colchis, where my father recieved him with open arms. He wed my sister Chalciope but soon passed away in battle, abandoning her with children and forcing her to remarry

None of this raised my opinion of Greeks.

"They claim to be heroes and that the King has something that belongs to them and would like to wager peacefully for it," Kleonis told me.

I waved the girls away and they hurried off, glad to be freed.

The golden fleece.

My mind was racing. I knew they were here for that and only that.

My feet reflexively took me on to the path that lead to the edge of the cliff.

The wool of Chrysomallos the ram had been sheared off and made into a fleece upon Phrixus' arrival. The ram himself had been killed but the fleece was considered to bring luck and prosperity to the owner and his lands.

My father kept it safely guarded in grove and very few dared to approach it.

Now the Greeks had come, claiming it to be theirs.

I laughed inside. My father would rather see his son dead than give them the fleece. I could already see his cunning mind at work, setting a death trap for his visitors.

My toes hit the tip of the cliff and a few loose rocks tumbled down the sheer drop, snapping me back to reality.

From my vantage point, I could see a part of the sea port but the Greek vessel remained hidden. I had to climb down the steep cliff side if I wanted a better view without having to go down there.

"Well, this is going to be interesting," I told myself, tying my skirt into a tight knot.