The view of the island from the top of the fallen in temple roof was just a bit different. From this perched position one could see much farther, across the old temple, over the hills and to the very horizon where the storm barrier lay hidden behind an illusion of eternal blue. Silvery eyes saw beyond the illusion and found only fog and darkness. Not even the gods themselves could see beyond this intricate veil. Sarpedon was isolated. Abandoned. Dead.
The small owl stretched its wings and made a low noise. It had heard the footsteps of the approaching girl and was twisting its head farther than any human could. An owl’s neck was a curious thing, so flexible. The tensed up muscles revealed the owl’s trepidation, but once it laid eyes on the slightly dirty clothes of a human girl, it relaxed. It was the priestess.
“Athenai, are you there?” She called out with a slightly listless voice.
The owl scurried to the edge of its roof nest to make itself noticeable. The girl may have been blind, but the scratching of talons on old stone reached her ears quickly. She raised her head in response and almost too accurately faced the owl. With a slow motion she raised her arm and waited patiently. Eventually Athenai jumped down and flapped its wings lightly to sail onto the girl’s shoulder. The claws were only pushed down lightly, so as not to stab the human’s flesh.
“Are you one of Lady Athena’s messengers after all?” The girl laughed faintly as she stroked the owl’s plumage. In depictions of the goddess her owls would all too often rest on her shoulders too. It was an accurate image as the silvery eyes penetrating out from within the owl’s skull knew well.
The girl wandered the island in her worn sandals and seemed to have no particular destination in mind. For many days now she seemed restless, sleepless, tethering between the worlds of dream and waking. The owl was her only companion during those walks. The only other sapient being on this small island was nowhere to be seen or heard. The snake had buried itself inside its lair and not shown her wretched face.
An air of friction and regret loomed over the island of Sarpedon once again. This time it did not exude from the hundreds of mortified stone statues, but from the two women themselves. They had an altercation that could not be so easily forgotten or mended. The Gorgon’s words had been most unkind, but the girl’s inability to stand up before her and strike back had left them at an impasse.
The owl, so ironically dubbed Athenai, had watched on stoically. Watched as the girl reveled in her gloom and as the snake below ground dug her claws into ancient stone. The foolishness of their emotions was the source of the tension, but it also gave her a short reprieve. A final reprieve before the end of this foolish tale.
“Are you hungry?” The girl suddenly asked, stopping in the middle of the old courtyard. There was no particular trigger for her question, no deeper meaning. Just another distraction from her melancholy.
Eugenia had fed her visitor plenty with bugs and sometimes better meat. Athenai often refused the disgusting feed and hunted her own meals, each time leaving behind a devastated priestess. She truly wore her emotions on her torn sleeve. Bothersome.
This time Eugenia had taken her to the Greenhouse, that special garden devised by the genius of a goddess. The morning light shone through the glass ceiling and warmed the plant life in its hue. A miraculous place like this had survived the destruction and wear of age. Was it a blessing or mere luck? Most things in this world were simply fate woven into its folds without discernable purpose. The things that truly mattered had a more elegant pattern to it, surely.
“If we had mice here I could feed you properly. I know you don’t like insects too much.”
At least she had noticed over time what her visitor preferred. Or rather the things she despised. The owl hardly ever gave a thankful or affectionate reaction to anything the priestess did for her. She was not aware that mice also belonged to that list of things the silvery eyes would detest. Now that the Gorgon was no longer shadowing them, the owl’s true yellow eyes often took their place during the feeding times.
“But rodents would ruin the garden, so maybe it’s better that we don’t have them.” She mused as she used a stick to loosen up the dirt and pull out crooked vines and weeds.
The daily chores never seemed to end with a garden this old and wild. She planted new special seeds, but she also took care of old square patches of the existing plant life every day, in a certain order and rhythm that was rather organized. Such a mathematical approach and order were expected of a priestess of Athena.
“It feels like I can tell you anything, Athenai. You always listen so diligently without a fuss. Unlike her…” She didn’t quite manage to suppress a smidgen of bile there. It seemed that despite her guilt and melancholy she was not entirely blaming herself. The monster below was at fault too, this was obvious to the owl at least. “How did it come to this?” The girl lamented.
It was the nature of all things. A human and a monster could not coexist. Something was inherently wrong about it. The sooner this naive girl learned that truth, the sooner the bet would be decided for good. The priestess had to remember her place, her fate, her nature.
Athenai hooted regally and landed on a tree branch above the hunched over Eugenia. From afar it would have resembled a picture of myth, the priestess bowing to the messenger of her goddess. Only Eugenia was not fully aware of this, nor intent on acting subservient. Instead she turned very red as she pulled on a buried root with all her meager strength. When it loosened she unceremoniously crashed against the tree and shook its branch enough for Athenai to almost lose her balance.
Angry hooting joined the girl’s pained yelp.
Eugenia sank against the tree and let go of the incredibly long root, carelessly letting if fall back into the dirt. She had lost her motivation as quickly as her cheer.
“I am useless, aren’t I?” She muttered. “Lady Medusa despises me. Typhos abandoned me as well. I have nobody left.”
The owl did not look at the girl as she wiped a tear with her sleeve. She would only look ahead, for her role in this was mere observation. To do anything beyond that would be beneath her. It would be a violation of her agreement. That was all there had to be said.
Eugenia gave up on wiping her tears and just let out her sadness with a long suffering sigh.
“Ouch!” She exclaimed as she was hit by a fruit. It had fallen from the tree above and bounced off her head. Then it landed in her lap, stayed in place and presented itself alluringly. She felt it up with her slim hands and found no bad spots. This was a wonderful specimen.
When she perked up her ears she could only hear the flapping of wings. Athenai landed on her shoulder again and started cleaning herself with her beak, decidedly disinterested in Eugenia’s presence.
“Thank you.” The smallest smile crept unto her features and she took a bite from the ripe fruit. The taste seemed to lift her spirits considerably. “Do you think I am foolish too? Like Medusa does?”
Athenai hooted disparagingly in response. That made Eugenia smile wryly.
“It feels like I can almost understand you. But can you understand me? Owls are known to be wise, but we are so far away from Lady Athena and all civilization now. Over here nothing makes sense.” She spoke with a riddling tone of voice. “You would not know it, but I was actually always like this. Maybe it is not this isle that is wrong, it’s me.”
A blessed devout follower of Athena showing so much doubt and self-loathing was nearly an insult to her mistress as well. The owl showed its displeasure by pecking the girl’s ear.
“Ow! That smarts!” She rubbed her ear. “But it’s true, I always caused trouble for everyone. Before Lady Medusa, before this. Typhos abandoned me, but perhaps he was just disappointed in me, like everyone else is. I wish I could talk to him just one more time.” She bit her lower lip.
Athenai thought of the scholar in distant Athens. The man who had been the cause of all this by hunting for the glory of the Gorgon’s head. Was he just another foolish adventurer driven by greed and hubris? He had left behind a priestess in his cowardice, but he seemed intent on undoing his blunder. It took a certain kind of man to admit a mistake and climb to the mountain top once again.
Though to an owl that courage was as trifling as that of a rodent trying to run up a tree.
“I admired him, I truly did… and still do.” She whispered with a heavy heart. “Back in Athens I thought he was the wisest man in the world.” Fondness mixed with embarrassment as the girl seemed to recollect a distant memory. “He is a reasonable sort. If we talked it out I am certain I could have convinced him that there was no need for bloodshed back when the expedition started. I would just like to make him understand.”
The owl was sitting still on the girl’s shoulder. What lay beyond those milky eyes? What was plaguing the girl’s tormented mind? If the silvery eyes peered long enough, they eventually may have pried the memories from the girl’s shining soul. That flame of remembrance was a beacon to the world of the past.
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Some summers ago in Athens a priestess in training was sent to the grand temple of Athena to study and strengthen her faith. She was hardly more than a child, but she was also not so young that she would be excused from the long journey and its potential perils. While she had experienced the city life in Lamia, she could not possibly have predicted the vastness of both scope and culture that bloomed in Athens. The head priestess of Lamia had called this city the greatest achievement of mankind and the cradle of wisdom that their mistress Athena had granted them. No words would ever be enough to elucidate its splendor.
And surely words were all the girl could absorb as her blindness bereft her of all the beauty she was meant to perceive. Rather her good ears and developed sense of smell gave her the less favorable impressions right away. Athens was loud; so loud in fact that she had to cover her ears when the wagon first passed the gates. Rattling of carts, screaming of merchants and the cries of animals all combined into a bloated storm of noise that threatened to overwhelm the girl’s mind completely. Her inability to see the causes of all these sounds made her inherently anxious and disoriented, leaving her curled up inside the back of the wagon hoping to be inside the quiet confines of the city’s temple soon.
The ride would go on for much longer than expected with the driver pressing out half-swallowed curses. The only reason he bothered to contain them in his gruff face, poor as those efforts turned out to be, was the fact that he was delivering a handful of young girls of a holy profession in the back. Even the everyman respected priestesshood enough to defy their innate character.
Yes, priestesses were important in this world, even more so those who would study at the central temple of worship for the city named after their patron goddess herself. Here the girls would learn to become full-fledged priestesses that could eventually spread out over whatever temples they were needed across the entire world. For those lucky enough to be approved by the grand priestess a stable future awaited without a doubt.
The girls spoke little on their travels as was expected of terrified children. An older Lamian priestess had accompanied them as their overseer, but she was a woman of even fewer words who would not like to be spoken to similarly. The first time she raised her voice was to tell the girls that they had arrived. The wagon had been pulled uphill for a while and now stopped in front of a gate that was loudly pulled open. Later the young girls would find out that this gate tended to be open for daily supply flow in and out, but was closed due to special circumstances. Their arrival was ill-timed.
Nonetheless they made it inside and were delivered to the front of the temple where they had been expected. The driver was paid with a small pouch of clinking contents and then the girls stepped off to be instructed by the experienced priestess.
“Do only speak when spoken to. Only answer direct questions and make no mention of things that are not relevant to your duties.” The old Lamian priestess glared down each girl individually, something the youngest of them could feel despite her blindness.
They could not have known why these rules were imposed on them, but they had learned to be obedient from an early age. It was the code of the sisters to serve and support whoever required their services, but the priestesses of Lamia had particular views that they were not comfortable to share with the other temples. Mortal politics had no place in religion and yet…
“These are the new girls?” A deep voice that could only belong to a most regal woman pushed itself into the entrance hall. Her presence immediately overwrote all other voices and emotions and only left her discerning attention in its wake.
“Greetings, grand priestess.” The old woman bowed and signaled the girls to do the same. “I hail from Lamia and bring you the new acolytes eager to learn and serve.”
“Scrawny and dirty girls again I see.” The regal woman spoke with slight mockery. Nobody could have disagreed with her assessment, as it was simply the truth. These girls were not from noble families like those in Athens and the temple hardly afforded them more than the scraps of clothing they had piled up in the temple’s moldy chests. Before a girl became a full-fledged priestess she was no more than another mouth to feed as far as most remote temples were concerned. They had the potential to become something, but until then they were merely an investment.
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“The journey was long, so we had no opportunity for baths and did not wish to damage their fine ceremonial garments by undue wear.” The old priestess spoke unabashed. Her words sounded sensible if not put under scrutiny.
“Wash them and feed them, so they may become presentable enough for proper introductions.” The grand priestess ordered with a dismissive tone and returned into the depth of the temple. The sound of her footsteps was even until a single moment where she turned back. Her piercing gaze was on one girl which clenched her hands together with a sheepish expression. The girl could sense the gaze and had heard the interruption of the rhythmic steps, but could not have known why this transpired.
The moment lasted no longer than a few heartbeats, but it was an omen of things to come.
Just as they were ordered, the girls moved to the spacious baths that existed within the temple’s side-building itself (something they were amazed to witness). Attending priestesses provided them with frugal, but still much higher quality clothes to wear. Chitons that reached down to their ankles to guarantee a strong appearance of modesty were standard among the sisterhood. If they were too long the girls were shown how to fold them and roll them up till they fit.
Next the acolytes received cheap bread and an assortment of fruits, but to them it tasted like the most delicious banquet befitting of the kings of the isles. It was not uncommon for them to only receive scraps back in Lamia, which was still a better fate than most children of the lowest workers and slaves could claim, especially during a long winter.
The mood had considerably improved, despite the judgmental expression on the old overseer’s face. The girls had long since known her tendency to see all happiness as indulgence unbefitting of their duty. What they could not understand with their young minds was the intricate game of smoke and mirrors the branches tended to play. To the children this was the warmest welcome they could have possibly dreamed of. And they still had barely seen any of the temple’s wonders.
“You will sleep in the common room with the other acolytes and begin your lessons at the crack of dawn. Delays will be punished harshly, quick learning will be rewarded. The guiding sister will educate you, but your duties will also include cleaning, cooking and eventually preparation for rituals and more involved communes.” A tall, experienced priestesses instructed them curtly. “Any questions?”
It was customary to not make a fuss or stand out in this moment. This was no more than an introduction and immature girls like them were in no place to actually question anything. That is how it was supposed to go. Yet one of the girls raised her small hand high above her head to get the priestess’ attention.
“When may we speak to Athena?” The girl asked curiously.
“Silence.” The old Lamian priestess hissed under her breath, but the question could not be taken back. The other girls backed away from her ever so slightly.
“You must remind yourself not to be too eager, child. Our goddess is not known to share her attention with those unworthy and of no consequence.” The guide spoke with an edge of frost in her voice, but made no more comments. Her stance was understandable. These girls had proven nothing yet and even the longest serving sisters may have never heard the mistress’ voice with their unworthy ears. The only one who was always granted that prerogative was the grand priestess.
“Quite right Hortensia. Which is why you will continue to tend to the garden instead of joining me in the ritual chamber.” The grand priestess had returned without anyone’s notice and was already behind the guide before she could turn around. The slick mockery in her voice was bringing great shame to the tall woman who audibly grinded her teeth. Flushed with ire and discontent she stepped aside and let the grand priestess face the girls. “What is your name?” Her words were directed at the girl who had asked the overeager question.
“I am Eugenia of Dan- of Lamia!” She had to catch herself inelegantly and straightened her back. Her mistake seemed to be common enough to give her little embarrassment already.
“Eugenia.” The woman repeated the name as if to dissect it entirely with her voice. There was a flicker of recognition in there, one that she carefully kept contained. “Have you heard our mistress’ voice before?” It was an unexpected question to everyone present. Nobody would even entertain such a notion.
“She has touched my mind, but I cannot say if it was a voice or not.” Eugenia replied earnestly as a thoughtful expression passed her face. Her milky eyes were pointed forward as if they could stare straight into a world nobody else could see. All the attention on her made her a bit nervous, but otherwise she did not seem to suffer from hysteria that would cause delusions.
“Well well, so you have finally brought me the blessed girl I heard so much about.” The grand priestess said with crossed arms and squinted eyes. Whether she was glad or disgruntled was especially hard to tell with her stoic face.
At the word ‘blessed’ most of the women and girls present took a step back and ogled Eugenia doubtfully. The only ones not impressed were the old Lamian woman and the grand priestess herself. In fact, the old eyes seemed to be filled with slight resentment when they focused on the girl.
“We have sent letters to, ah, inform you of her presence. She has reached the age where it became necessary to let her enjoy your wise guidance.” It was all but clear that she had no love for Eugenia and treated this as a way to pass her on to someone else.
“Indeed. To make everything quite clear child, we do not discriminate at this temple. All acolytes will be treated equally and receive the same education. Expect no special treatment from anyone in this city. The only one who can decide your role in the future is Athena herself, thus we humans must continue to remain neutral until judgement falls.” Her words carried no thorns, but also no warmth. The girl could not see her expression of course, so she was not aware of the barely hidden intensity directed at her.
“Yes grand priestess.” Eugenia nodded quickly. It surprisingly did not appear that she disagreed with anything said. For a blessed human to be humble was a rarity and could perhaps even be seen as insulting to the deity that had given them that privilege.
“I am Akacia, remember the name.” That was the last thing the grand priestess said to them. Although her words were technically directed at all the new students, it felt like she was addressing only Eugenia. Once again she left to take care of other matters, but she muttered one more thing to herself. It was so quiet that none could hear her, none but the one whose ears were exceptional beyond human ability. “She looks so much like you…” Her hand tightly clasped something hanging from her neck.
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Afterwards Eugenia was left in an awkward position. The other girls made their distance from her, not wanting to be seen as disrespectful to the special chosen one. The priestesses of the temple on the other hand were treating her coldly for entirely different reasons. In a short time she was almost entirely isolated in any situation outside of lessons and direct assignments. Even when the girls were required to work as a group, the blind girl was put into a lonely position of her own.
Despite such treatment she worked hard and studied intently. Her inability to read parchments quickly (as she needed to trace the indents of the letters with her fingers) combined with a seemingly natural clumsiness quickly shortened the patience of her guides. Willingness could not make up for lack of ability in many cases and caused her to become even more of an outcast.
The longer she stayed at the temple without any miraculous events surrounding her, the fewer of the women and girls around her respected her special status. Although Eugenia had never wished to be treated differently in either way, she soon changed from being silently feared to openly mocked. Her fellow acolytes had become more vicious in their treatment of the girl that allegedly kept getting attention from higher places, whether she actually did or not. Their cruelty, which could only be born from a special manner of jealousy, soon forced the girl to break down.
In those days she would go to the priestesses to beg for guidance, but the women of the temple had little interest in a troublemaker’s woes. And that was indeed what she appeared to be to them; a troublemaker in all senses of the word. It was rare to find empathy from them on the best of days.
When the torment became too great and Eugenia cried to herself in the corner of the gardens, by pure chance Akacia had found her.
“You are a troublesome child.” She spoke frankly.
“I’m sorry.” Eugenia buried her face in her arms and attempted to hide her tears.
“It seems you aren’t anything like Kynthia after all, despite that familiar face.” She sighed and sat down on the nearby stone bench.
“What?” The girl’s ears perked up and her reddened face left the confines of her sleeves. “W-Why do you know my mother’s name?”
“Why do you think?” She asked dryly and shook her head. It seemed that even looking at Eugenia caused her a fair amount of pain.
“Lady Akacia, you are one of mother’s friends?” It finally dawned on the foolish girl’s face.
“Once upon a time.” The woman put a hand to her forehead and seemed lost in thought. Then her eyes and cheeks hardened. “I am bound by honor and tradition to make certain you are raised respectably. You may come to my chambers for private lessons so that you do not disgrace your family’s legacy.” It didn’t seem to come easy to her to speak those words.
“But you said none of us should receive special treatment.” Eugenia pointed out weakly.
“Must you be so determined to be an unpleasant eyesore?” Akacia replied sharply and raised her hand to smack the girl. With her last capacity of restraint she stopped the motion. She inhaled and exhaled a few times before finally regaining her composure. “You must work much harder than anyone else, so you will also receive more opportunity than anyone else. That is the wisdom of equivalent exchange.”
It sounded like a lesson from a clever merchant instead of a respectable priestess. And yet those were the first words from the woman that seemed to truly resonate with the child.
From that day onwards Eugenia would sometimes come to Akacia’s chambers for even more detailed lessons on subjects. The grand priestess was stricter than all other teachers combined and had very little patience for failure, but she was also far fairer in her assessment and attention to the girl’s strengths. Those visits were still far and few between, but they gave Eugenia a deeper appreciation of her mother’s old friend.
Sometimes when she was tormented by the other children too intensely she would come to Akacia’s chamber to find solace. The woman received her with silence, never with comfort and kind words. That was more than enough for the crying child however. It was a refuge in the center of a hostile world that she could never have been granted anywhere else. In a way she felt it was a gift from her mother raised up and blown over the fields of Elysium towards the living world.
All of it came to a painful crash when something unfortunate happened in the temple. The girls responsible for cleaning the ceremony room were heading out quickly with pale faces and rushed to other tasks with wild abandon. Left behind was the only girl who could not rush ahead carelessly. A blind girl that was not completely certain of what had transpired before it was too late.
She clasped the broken pieces of the urn in her small hands and began to breathe irregularly. Panic was clasping her heart and mind. Footsteps alarmed her of the impending arrival of the priestesses. Hiding all the pieces would have been impossible for her who had to feel around the ground to find them in the first place. Instead she gathered them on a pile (which gave her a nasty cut on her ring finger) and soaked up the milk that had been spilled from the former urn.
“What is the meaning of this?” The harsh voice sent a shiver down the girl’s spine. The women soon spotted the white puddle and pieces of the intricately painted clay urn. They did not even have to ask if she was responsible, they had already made up their minds. The blind girl clumsily pushed it over and left it in shambles, it was an obvious crime.
She was scolded and yelled at for a long time and then eventually brought before Akacia.
“This useless girl has destroyed the urn of spirit and mind.” The tall priestess named Hortensia pushed Eugenia’s shoulder down forcefully until she winced and kneeled before the grand priestess.
Akacia mustered the three arrivals and put down her feather which she had used to write on some parchments. The furious faces of the priestesses barely registered with her as she focused all her imposing attention on the acolyte below her.
“Did you break it?”
“Of course she did!” The priestesses protested.
“I didn’t.” Eugenia sniffed and grabbed her short hair in fear as she got smacked by her captors for ‘lying’.
“How dare you speak an untruth before Lady Akacia?!”
“This is the great temple of Athena Pallas! To lie on these grounds is an insult to the mistress herself, even if you are some god-touched whelp.”
Their indignation was genuine, albeit fueled by a deeper seated dislike for the girl in particular. The truth was that they had very little reason to investigate further as this outcome suited them just fine.
“Admit it!”
“If you stop lying your punishment will be less severe.”
“I... I…” Eugenia’s white eyes teared up and she pushed her head to the ground. “I’m sorry!”
“Good, finally she shows some sincerity.” Hortensia pulled away her foot from the girl’s back.
“If you bend to them I will not help you.” Akacia spoke callously.
“Pardon?” The other two looked confounded by their superior’s statement, but it didn’t seem like she was trying to oppose them.
Eugenia was sobbing quietly for a while before she shook her head. She didn’t wish to lie, but she could also not speak up, out of fear.
“The brat is wrought with guilt, it’s plain to see. Give her a fair punishment and we shall make sure she betters herself.” The other priestess spoke with feigned sympathy.
“Eugenia, you will be tasked with a delivery.” Akacia declared and pushed a sealed parchment into the girl’s hands. “This letter needs to be delivered to a scholar in the city. If you lose it you will not be fed today and tomorrow, do I make myself clear?”
“Akacia, is it wise to send a blind child to walk the city alone?” Even the two priestesses who had clamored for a punishment seemed taken aback.
“You may accompany her if you worry so dearly for her well-being.” The grand priestess said with an unamused glare. The women shrunk back and got out of her sight. “The man you seek is giving a speech in the agora. If he is already finished by the time you arrive he will most likely be debating some of his kind somewhere in the area.”
“Lady Akacia-”
“I do not care if you broke it or not. You missed your chance to defend yourself. Let that be a lesson to you.” She sat down on her chair and sighed with deep exhaustion. “Those who are blameless will not always be saved by others.”
“W-Who is this scholar?” Eugenia was still kneeling, but she had stopped crying.
“An acquaintance that is asking too many favors of me. You have a lot in common in that way.” She poured water from an urn and gave the girl an earthen mug. “His name is Typhos. Do not let him warm up for another speech or you will be stuck outside the Akropolis till the morrow.”
Eugenia hastily drank the water to the last drop and then clutched the letter to her chest. She knew not whether this was a punishment, a test or merely an expected duty. Regardless of which it was, she would fulfill her task to her mentor’s satisfaction. Her small heart beat painfully, but it beat yet.
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The owl opened its silvery eyes and returned to the present. The girl had rested long enough and resumed her garden work. The constant shaking of her shoulders sent the bird flying off with ruffled feathers and a dissatisfied hoot. She had been sitting there with closed eyes merely indulging in visions of the past, unaware of whether the girl had spoken to her at all.
The girl wiped the sweat off her brow and spread more dirt in the process, leaving her half brown and half pale, as if the very center of her face had been divided.
“Do you want to hear how I first met Typhos?”
The owl’s eyes widened for a fraction of a heartbeat. For just a moment it seemed the young woman was aware of the dreams the owl had sifted through and now wished to continue the tale they conveyed. It was impossible for a mere human to notice such deeply secret spiritual tethering and yet this could not be a coincidence.
The owl’s powerful eyes sharpened as they noted the tiniest movement in the shadows behind the entrance. It may have been the foot of a lost hare or something far viler. The presence was unnoticeable already, but there was no fooling these divine eyes. It had most certainly been there.
“I quite like this memory, so I wouldn’t mind.” The girl spoke with a slight flush on her cheeks. It was rare for her to speak of happy memories, so perhaps she felt ashamed to use the owl as an excuse to cheer herself up. The silvery eyes could see through such foolish human deception in an instant.
Athenai flapped her small wings regally until she was the size of a farm cat and made a demanding noise. Eugenia chuckled and let go of another root that didn’t wish to leave the dirt. She patted her hands on the grass and then crossed her legs.
“I wonder if owls ever debate amongst themselves.” She spoke with childish wonder. “Men always argue over the smallest and greatest matters in the same manner and intensity. That’s what my old mentor taught me.” She put a hand to her face and started recollecting. “I was tasked with a mission to deliver highly important information to a scholar, which I of course courageously accepted …”
The priestess raised her voice for another tale from the past, one that would shed light on matters past and present. Her audience consisted of two whose minds were at odds about every matter much like the scholars of Athens.