Acerca de

321 BC

Somewhere in the forests of northwestern Greece, a young girl wandered underneath an indigo sky. She didn’t know how she got there, nor where she was going. No one had seen her leave, she was certain. All she had done was wake up and swing her legs off the edge of her cot, then her toes were sinking into plush grass.

The girl didn’t dwell on the fact that she was beneath the looming full moon and towering trees in her nightgown; she simply began to walk until she came upon a clearing with a small lake. It was still, eerily so, glittering like a mirror holding the reflection of the stars. She sat beside it and scooped palmfuls of water to her lips, soothing her dry throat. Wind caressed the meadow around her, dancing within it like waves, yet there was no sound. Not even the chittering of bugs reached her ears.

Then the air began to hum.

Across the lake, a white doe slid from the tree line. The girl had never seen such a creature; it was dazzling, but its fierce presence was that of a wolf. She shivered as it approached her, rounding the lake gracefully. Its coat glowed as if it took the stars out of the sky and hid them within its fine hairs.

The doe stopped a short distance away from her. The girl did not move, pinned within its presence.

“Moonchild,” the doe said. Its mouth didn’t move, yet the voice of a young woman sounded within the girl’s mind. Somehow, she found it natural, as if all animals had always spoken with echoing voices, silky as birdsong. She dared to speak back to it.

“Iokaste is my name. What do I call you?”

“Parthéna fýsi,” it said. The title resonated with finality, seeping into her skin.

Wilderness.

It caused Iokaste’s breath to catch. Her hands clenched in the fabric of her billowy dress, hair floating softly in the creeping wind.

“Sit with me,” the doe said and lied in the grass, eyes on the lake of glass. Iokaste thought she would have to force herself closer, but her body moved of its own volition. She settled carefully by its shoulders. The proximity was thrilling, as if she could get burned being so close. “What do you wish for?”

Iokaste was briefly perplexed. No one had ever asked her that. Her eyes fixed on the doe’s back as she thought. Friends? No, she didn’t prefer those; they only cared for her status. Her mother’s attention? Not that either, she gave up on that years ago. Peace? Maybe, though she felt like that was too big to ask. She realized the doe’s form was still. It wasn’t breathing. This being was not what it seemed.

Iokaste decided not to say any half-truth to this creature, feeling as if it would see right through her straight to her darkest parts. She desired nothing on the earth.

“I want to meet the stars,” Iokaste whispered like a secret. The doe craned its neck to look at her, and Iokaste felt raw as she met its ancient eyes.

“What trade have you in the land of the Gods?” The question wasn’t demeaning nor amused; it was full of intrigue.

“None. The Gods are prideful,” she said, then felt a flush of embarrassment. It felt like a foolish thing to say. Iokaste lifted her chin. “This I know well. I have lived all my life within seas of pride. I only want to be free of it all.”

“Who taught you this?”
“My mother.”

The doe considered her. “Yes. Deidamia II, Queen of Epirus. I presume she has educated you in loneliness and anger as well.”

Iokaste said nothing, stunned silent. The doe stood, then, and stepped onto the lake, dainty hooves cracking the sapphire surface into ripples. It didn’t sink. Iokaste watched in wonder as it crossed to the other side. When it stepped onto soft earth, it turned back to her.

“The hunt calls your name, Moonchild, for a wild heart beats within you. By the will of the Fates, our paths will meet again. Find me in the future after blood stains my halls, when mankind earns vengeance from me. I will wait for you within the silence.”

Something bloomed in Iokaste’s chest. The words sounded like promise. Like reckoning. It turned and went into the shadows it came from, taking the light of the moon with it. Her chest tightened as its presence retreated. She felt like a precious thing had slipped through her grasp.

The clearing was dark, the lake disappeared. Her shoulders were shaking as if she was crying, but when she reached to touch her cheeks, she found no tears there. A sudden flash of warm, dancing light, then her whole body wrenched violently forward, and she shouted in fear.

“Iokaste!” a distant voice yelled.

She blinked. Her eyes met torchlight and her handmaid’s wrinkled face. Iokaste whipped her head around, but the forest had already melted away in the orange glow of fires. She was in her chambers inside the palace.

“Princess, there’s been another attack, you are to flee with your mother to safety. Come, now!” Iokaste didn’t have time to process what was happening; her handmaid pulled her over to the small door in the back of her chambers and pushed her inside. It led to a secret passageway underneath the palace, an escape route for her and her mother should anything happen.

Deidamia II, Queen of Epirus, did not meet her outside the city as had once been promised. And where were the guards that were supposed to escort them to safety? Her handmaid said the queen must have gone ahead without them. Iokaste expected no more from her mother.

Together, they ran into the woods in the dead of night. They evaded roads and skirted worn pathways in the tall grass. Iokaste’s adrenaline faded after a few hours, and she was left with only a chilly sense of dread and exhaustion. From what she could see between the tangled branches above her, the moon shone low in the sky. As they ascended the base of the limestone mountains she grew up admiring, she suddenly knew where they were going.

Artemis Hegemone, the temple on the mountainside.

When they left the last of the thick tree line, the temple came into view before them, massive and carved out of the same white stone beneath their feet. A screeching owl drew Iokaste’s attention, and she searched for it along the expanse of shadowy trees behind her. She remembered the strange, silent place she was in earlier—or was she not there? Was it a vision? She didn’t know what it meant. She was only thirteen. Young and afraid and angry. Her handmaid tugged on her arm.

“Keep up,” her handmaid said. “We’re exposed here. Dawn is coming.”

They stumbled to the base of the temple steps and climbed. Iokaste’s chest heaved, her limbs burned like they could no longer carry her weight. She was barely up the steps and weaving between towering pillars before she was yanked to the side, back shoved against one of the temple’s outside columns. She didn’t even shout. Her handmaid’s body blocked her view of the mountains. She was staring at Iokaste with a look in her eyes that sent fresh pangs of terror through her.

“Krývo,” her handmaid frantically whispered. Hide.

Iokaste held in a gasp. That’s when she noticed the sounds echoing from deeper in the temple. Approaching footsteps, low laughter, voices of men. Her handmaid stepped around the column and into the holy place of the Goddess.

“ὁ μητροφόντης ἐπὶ φόνῳ πράσσει φόνον,” a woman said. It was resigned, yet full of spite. It was her mother. The queen was inside. Iokaste slid to her knees, her filthy nightgown provided no cushion against the stone. She did not attempt to peer into the heart of the temple.

A man laughed. Her mother shouted. A horrible gurgling noise followed. Her handmaid wailed from somewhere within the columns, but the sound was cut short after a flurry of footsteps and a whisper of metal slicing through air. Iokaste covered her mouth.

She knew what had happened, knew it in her bones, but she didn’t think of it, willing her mind to have more force than her heart. There were more hushed voices, then the sounds of retreat. The men left without looking for her. Part of her wished they had. Her mind only wandered to simple things: the sweet smell of night, the sparkling smoothness of the stone she pressed up against. Dawn spilled over the peaks of the mountains. Iokaste stayed plastered to the base of the column until shouts ripped her out of her thoughts.

The priestesses arrived and found the bodies. Women surrounded her, touched her face, wept, but she didn’t pay attention. She felt hollow. Iokaste couldn’t look when they took her into
the temple, wouldn’t open her eyes until they assured her the bodies were removed. When she finally glanced at where her mother and handmaid once lay, she saw only thick pools of blood.

Find me in the future, after blood stains my halls…

The words echoed in her head. She did not hear what the priestesses were saying to her. When Iokaste manage to turn away, she stood before a statue of Artemis. Illuminated in the soft glow of morning sunbeams, its visage was powerful and sharp. Iokaste took in the carved images throughout the chamber: wild chases, hunts amidst tremendous forests, many featuring a large doe standing beside the Goddess.

She understood. Something cloudy settled heavily within her. The Fates had come for her.

 

Artemis was waiting.