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There is a girl today.
She has washed up on the beach. Her skin is not bronzed, like the others had been. Her sleep is raucous, and a layer of fat clings to her chin and her cheeks. I wonder how such a being can be a hero- for only heroes end up here. She does not look like a leader of armies. Even I could take her on.
—-
Today, the girl opened her eyes. Her skin was pink under the sun, flaking away. She was afraid. I miss those who had sprang to their feet, demanding answers, spears or fists as their leverage. Those that had proved themselves worthy of their place with me. This one requests comfort before they even sit up. Their hands are weak under my grasp. Not fine and soft, not tough and strong. Middling.
—-
The girl is never silent. I have not known a moment of peace since she came to my island. She sings during the day, bits and pieces of tunes half-remembered, and chatters to anything, or nothing at all. Even in her sleep she is raucous. She is loud when she is cheerful, she is loud when she is homesick. The only time she ever falls silent is when I turn harsh words against her. Then, you might think her a mute, with how well she can hold her tongue.
—-
She has built a fire on the beach tonight. When I told her that no ship ever appears on the horizon, she asked me how I got here. This girl has no tact. I did not tell her, of course. She is not my lover, she has no right to my past, nor to the vengeance the gods had enacted upon me.
—-
The fire, she told me, reminded her of the cold nights in the place she came from. There is frozen water there, which falls from the sky as gently as a wisp of hair. It blankets the ground, and the world sleeps until the coming spring. On the darkest night of every year- for the years pass, where she is from, and once each year the sky is darkest of all- they would built a grand fire, to invite back the sun.
I sat by the fire for a time. She can be silent, it seems, when she stares into the heart of the flames.
—
All I have are todays, and clouds, and sand, and endless waves. In past todays, I had seen those sent to me, and loved them before they had even opened their eyes. I will not love this one. It is bad enough that all of my todays are spent in semi-solitude. I will not lower my standards to the scraps the gods have seen fit to send me.
—-
The girl seemed surprised when I told her the gods had only seen fit to see me heros, in the past. She tells me there is no glory in war, anymore. There is only endless death, and greed. I ask her what heros exist, anymore, and she is silent for a long time. It seems I have found a third thing to provoke silence from her. It seems this sort of silence brings no relief.
—-
I apologized that she could not leave today, and she asked me how I would know if she cannot leave. I had not explained the details of my curse to her. I had hardly spoken to her. What sort of cruelty have I in me, to leave my fellow captive ignorant of our plight? I told it her all. I could hardly believe I had not told her before how the gods had banished me here, sending me only heros to steal my heart, just to rip it away again and again. Her hugs are warm, and firm. I had not expected her to hold me so tight.
—-
There is an answer to my question of heroes today. She speaks of idols and actors, of great leaders, of generals, of small children standing against the cruelty of the world. She talks about how it has all blended together in the drawl of fame.
Then she pauses, and speaks slowly, on the fight against plague, against Apollo. Of the constant examination of the enemy, of the lines of supplies. Of the fight to convince their soldiers not to turn against them. They have eradicated a disease, she tells me.
I tell her that the heros of my time fought rulers. The heroes of her time fight gods.
—-
She tells me she does not know if she can leave or not. When I ask her why, she tells me that she has never tried to leave me.
—-
The island is small, but it does not feel that way some days. When her idle chatter fades into the distance, and I remember what it is to be alone. The sea is vast, the horizon utterly unreachable. But upon the shore, there is a girl today. All I have is todays, and the love in my heart. Not even my island is my own.
—-
She is no hero of old, but her embrace is warm, and she has never yet tried to leave me.