A Hoplite No More

Arcturus made his way up the mountainside, following along a series of paths that had been cut into the ground by the movement of a thousand such pilgrims over just as many years. Below him was the city of Thebes and above was a structure as old as the gods themselves.

It was a lonely journey today as many in the town below were busying themselves with the coming war. The men were preparing for battle, the smiths were forging armour and spears, and the markets were preparing the rations necessary for the long military campaign ahead.

He should’ve been back in the city, doing his part and readying himself for combat. He was a man of fighting age and more than capable of standing his ground within a phalanx. And he would most certainly be conscripted into their ranks once he returned from this voyage.

The thought filled him with a mix of emotions though mostly it was dread that came forward to fill his mind. A dread so pure that it dumped pure ice into his veins. Their commander was no Athena, the warriors were not favoured by Ares, and it seemed that only Hades alone would be there to welcome them in this fruitless crusade.

One foot went in front of the other as one sharp bend gave way to another. Slowly, he ventured higher and higher still. Until finally, he stood before the temple. It was old, older than any other structure in Thebes below.

It was a structure that probably looked pristine back in its days though the marble had tarnished with age as cracks began to form in the material. Vines clung to every surface and spiralled along the many mighty columns that supported the roof.

Still, there were signs of life as there was a garden out front, its harvest bountiful. Impressive considering this was probably the only crop in the land that had not faced hardship this year. Yet, here on what should’ve been a barren mountaintop, there were fruits, grapes, vegetables, and grains growing with such raw abundance.

It was incredible what the gods could bestow upon a favoured few.

Arcturus passed by the garden and made his way towards the entrance, stepping inside.

The interior was dimly lit with only a few kindling flames providing any illumination. The air smelled heavy of flowery fragrances and there was a smoky quality to it as well. It helped put the young hoplite at ease as he ventured deeper inside.

He entered a chamber where an impressive fire crackled away with three women around it. The women seemed at peace, chatting amongst themselves and enjoying a meal with wine. They were almost completely naked though they didn’t seem to mind this in the slightest.

One of them noticed Arcturus and smiled.

“So, a hoplite wishes to speak with Thebe’s seers?” she asked.

Arcturus’ eyes widened. “You know me?”

“Not you exactly but on the eve of war it would be strange for a smith or a farmer to come to our chambers,” a second woman said, flashing an equally welcoming smile. “Plus, we’ve been seeing nothing but hoplites for a fortnight now.”

Arcturus couldn’t help but let out a tense note of amusement. These seers were nothing if not astute.

“I hope the adventure wasn’t a long one?” a third woman asked, standing up and approaching him. “I know the city has done a poor job of maintaining the paths leading towards our abode.”

As the women came closer, Arcturus got a better look at them.

The first women to speak bore a full-bodied figure with tanned skin that looked like it was more appropriate on a Persian woman than a Greek. Her hair was long and a rich brown in colour. The second woman was thin but tall with the pale skin and red hair that seemed more appropriate for a Gaul. The third seemed local with an earthen skin-tone and short black hair with a body that was an average of the other two.

“I am Persephone,” the first woman said.

The second advanced, holding a hand to her naked chest. “And I am Theodora.”

And finally, the third laid a hand upon him, reaching for the knot that kept his garb tied together. “And I am Helen though I can promise you that I am not from Troy.”

Arcturus drew in a breath and smiled. “I am Arcturus, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“That is a mighty name,” Persephone said. “One that has been borne by many legendary warriors throughout the Peloponnese.”

Arcturus looked at her. “Does that bode well for me?”

“Possibly,” Helen said, shrugging. “Though names alone are not an indicator of bravery or fate. We once met a Hercules who was trampled to death by a herd of cattle on his way to the markets one Sunday morning.”

“And don’t forget about the Achilles who was slain by a beggar bearing nothing more than a rusty sickle,” Theodora added as she scoffed at the memory.

“But I guess we won’t really know much about your fate until you participate in one of our rituals,” Helen offered, winking at him. “It is hard to divinate without divinations, you know?”

Arcturus reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bag containing coinage, freshly minted from the silver of Athens. This was his portion of the accursed bullion that had so eagerly brought Thebes to war. It was a mercenary’s sum.

“I have brought tribute,” he said.

Helen took the bag and opened it, peering inside. “This will do nicely. The traders who come up here prefer Athenian money to any other currency.”

“Shame that such currency will not hold much value after our next trade,” Theodora quipped, snorting. “Not that they need to know such things.”

Arcturus’ stomach dropped at such a statement. It was not reassuring to hear that your ally’s currency would lose all value in the near future. Why would Athenian bullion lose its worth? Were they really destined to lose against Sparta that quickly and to such an extent?

“Just because an Empire falls doesn’t mean that everyone is slated for equal destitution,” Persephone added, smiling at Arcturus as she took his hand. “In fact, there are many who would benefit from a shake up in the world order.”

She led him towards the fire in the centre of the room, moving him over to a fine rug that was positioned near a broiling cauldron.

“Is there anything special that needs to be done on my behalf?” Arcturus asked.

Helen smiled and moved towards a table that was set off to the side of the room. “If you’d please shed your attire.”

She then grabbed a mortar and pestle, grinding together some ingredients that were inside. Though she also added a couple more that were equally colourful and exotic in nature. They seemed to come from all over the known world and maybe even beyond.

“You commune naked?” Arcturus asked.

Helen shrugged. “I don’t question the will of the gods but they speak more clearly when there is no barrier between them and us.”

Arcturus nodded and accepted this answer. He reached for his garb, pulling the cheap and rough fabric away from his body. There was no ceremony to his actions as he quickly discarded his attire and folded it, placing it on the ground next to the rug. There was no shame to be had as the women were clearly the expert in this field and didn’t seem to mind nudity in the slightest.

He also knew that he was an attractive figure, cut from the stone of heroes with a body that had been toned through years of working in his family’s vineyard. It was the body of a freeman but not so free that it had become soft from wealth. His skin was left tanned, a brown that conflicted with the light shade of his hair.

“You are built like a hoplite,” Persephone chimed in, flashing a smile.

She was busy working on something else at another station, bundling together a collection of wood and fiber. If Arcturus had to guess, he’d assume it was for the fire in front of him.

“Feel free to sit,” Theodora offered, pointing to the rug.

Arcturus settled down upon the floor, feeling like a lost child who didn’t quite know what he was supposed to do. So, he opted to fold his hands within his lap and look around as he watched the women work.

Theodora wasn’t prepping something but was instead moving around the circle, placing down little bundles of flowers while also using a stick of charcoal to etch out creative symbols upon the stone. This was when Arcturus realized he was in the midst of an intricate piece of art, featuring all sorts of pictography that looked incredibly spiritual in nature.

“So…” Arcturus glanced down at his hands. “How does one find themselves becoming an oracle?”

“It’s usually by receiving a message from one of the gods,” Persephone replied.

Helen snorted. “Usually, it’s Athena though apparently Theodora was selected by Poseidon.”

“But we’re…” Arcturus began.

Theodora chuckled. “You aren’t the first person to point out that we’re nowhere near the coast. I’ll be the first to admit that he was a strange choice for this temple but…” She shrugged. “A god is a god regardless of their logic.”

“If you really think about it, anywhere in Greece is relatively close to a coast,” Helen added, pointing the mucked-up tip of pestle at her companion. “This isn’t Macedonia or any of those farther off and less civilized domains where the water is green.”

She placed the pestle down and brought the mortar over, kneeling down beside Arcturus. Inside the bowl was a purplish substance that sparkled slightly in the fire’s light. It seemed to be a mixture of lavender and some sort of metallic dust though it was moistened, looking quite sticky.

“What is that?” Arcturus asked.

“A little paint,” Helen explained, dipping her fingers into it. “The ways of the divine are mysterious but it helps us channel your fate into a more tangible reading if you are marked with their symbols during the divination.”

“The gods work in weird ways,” Arcturus murmured.

Helen snorted. “Just be thankful that you only require their services on occasion. Imagine having to fulfill their will for your entire lifetime.” She shook her head and sighed. “It isn’t easy work. I’ll tell you that much.”

She started to spread the paint upon his chest, tracing some sort of crude picture upon it. Her presence was so close that Arcturus could feel the warmth of her body and could smell the rich scent of the perfume that she wore. It smelled floral and lovely, whatever it was.

He flushed as he realized that the presence of someone so beautiful was having a reaction upon his anatomy, causing it to stir and harden.

It didn’t seem like Helen noticed however as she continued to draw little patterns upon his flesh. By the time she was finished, there were a few symbols upon his chest and a few more that ventured down to his belly and out along his forearms.

Arcturus shuffled as she drew back, trying to hide his erection between his legs.

Though this only made Helen notice it as she let out an amused note of laughter. “You are not the first man to have such a reaction, young Arcturus, though I do appreciate your restraint. Not many men are quite so kind.”

“Did he pop a boner to seeing three beautiful women completely in the buff?” Persephone asked, shaking her head. “Who could possibly do such a thing?” Though there was no legitimate bite to her words.

Arcturus sucked in a breath and felt his cheeks burn even more. “I believe there is a spirit in control of my body.”

“The only spirit inside of you right now is the will of Aphrodite,” Helen teased.

With the empty bowl in hand, she returned to her spot and settled down upon a rug that was to the left of Arcturus. She placed the bowl aside and instead folded her own hands within her lap. It was also around this time that Persephone finished with her circle and Theodora had finished manufacturing her bundle of combustibles.

Arcturus watched as both of them occupied a spot around the cauldron as well, the four of them forming a loose circle around the bristling flames. It was hot to be this close to the fire and he couldn’t help but sweat, feeling moisture form against his brow.

“Are you ready to begin?” Theodora asked, holding up the bundle of wood and wagging it back and forth before his eyes.

Arcturus didn’t speak and instead simply nodded. This seemed to please the seer as she tossed the wood into the flames. Soon the reds and oranges erupted and grew in size, washing an even more intense heat across the room. The flames soon took on other colours as blues and greens were added into the mix as well. It was beautiful to watch, unnatural but impossible to look away from.

He instinctively sucked in a breath.

The paint upon his body started to glow, taking on an ethereal quality, seeming to absorb the very energy of the gods. Each of the seers closed their eyes and started to chant in an unfamiliar language that seemed older than the world itself.

Somehow even with the flames broiling with such vigour it seemed like the world was darkening as a strange mist crawled in, seemingly from the very walls themselves.

Arcturus’ heart was hammering inside of his chest and his breathing started to grow more frantic as the intensity of things took on a more fevered pitch. Soon the seers were having an energetic conversation amongst themselves, sharing information that he had no hope of being privy to. Their eyes were glassy and unfocused as they spoke. It was like their gaze was somewhere else, somewhere that only those graced with divinity could ever hope to see.

He closed his eyes, trying to block out the terror that he felt. At this moment, he realized why these witches were only visited on such rare occasions. Who would willingly subject themselves to this kind of treatment? It was loud and bright and hot and just an assault upon all of his senses, relentlessly grinding against them, all at once.

Then, just as he was about to scream, the fevered pitch faded and the voices fell away.

Arcturus opened his eyes and saw that the world had largely returned to normal. The flames were orange, the mist had dissipated, and the three seers seemed to have calmed.

The only thing that gave away that something terrifying had happened was his own hammering pulse and the frantic nature of his breathing.

“Sorry about that,” Helen quipped. “I know the first time can seem a little intense to those who are uninitiated.”

“Intense is one way of putting it,” Arcturus whispered. “D-did you learn anything?”

“Many things,” Persephone replied.

Theodora flashed a smile. “Let me be the first to congratulate you on your father’s survival.”

Arcturus’ eyes widened which made Theodora suck in a breath through her teeth. “I take it you were not aware of his illness.”

“I think that’s a few years down the road, Theodora,” Persephone quipped.

Helen shook her head and held up a hand. “Regardless, let's focus on the question you came here to ask.”

Arcturus nodded and looked between the three seers. “Am I going to survive the coming war?”

“Yes and no,” Helen answered.

Arcturus cocked a brow, hoping for something a little less cryptic than that.

“I know, I know, not exactly the most helpful answer in the world,” Helen admitted, sighing. “You will survive but the fates have informed me that you’ll go through many changes that…” She rolled her hand through the air, obviously trying to find a way to phrase this message. “Do you remember that riddle about the ship?”

“The one where you remove one plank and replace and then keep doing that until you have enough scrap timber to rebuild the ship or something like that?” Arcturus asked.

Persephone snapped her fingers and nodded. “Exactly! You’re like that ship. So, you survive but are you really still you at the end of it?”

Arcturus paused, trying to decipher what that could possibly mean.

“Though there is also an alternative path that you could take,” Theodora added. “One where you die fighting instead of being this ship.”

“A choice?” Arcturus asked.

Helen nodded. “The fates do provide them at times.”

Theodora suddenly got up and made her way over to another workstation where she busied herself with a pet project. Once more she started to grind together ingredients, mixing them into yet another concoction that seemed exotic and mystic in nature.

“The gods have informed us that we’ll be providing you a choice between these two paths today,” Helen stated, glancing at him. “You’ll be presented with a brew which if drunk will allow you to survive but be greatly changed. The option to consume it will be left up to you.”

Arcturus nodded, once more looking at his hands. It wasn’t exactly an easy choice to make, especially with imperfect information. Though he assumed these seers were not the kind of people who could offer easy alternatives and clear answers.

The options were life and death from the sound of it. Still, the fact that Arcturus would no longer be himself, if he chose life, bothered him immensely. The phrasing of that statement felt so woefully cryptic.

What could that possibly mean?

He pondered it for a moment before looking at Helen.

“Would my death in war be honourable?” he asked.

Helen hissed through her teeth. “I’m afraid that the fates have informed us that you’ll die of camp fever during a poorly planned siege.”

“Ah…” Arcturus pursed his lips together. “That’s a little grizzly.”

“Not ideal, no,” Persephone added. “But when it comes down to it, for every Achilles there are a thousand poor bastards who die shitting themselves to death outside of a city’s walls.”

“Persephone,” Helen hissed.

Persephone laughed and could only shrug in response. “What? Would you prefer that I lied?”

“There’s just a more polite way of phrasing it is all,” Helen grumbled. “It's called being the victim of attrition.”

Theodora approached and settled down beside Arcturus, holding out a cup with some sort of strong-smelling tea inside. It was greenish in colour with various kinds of pulp floating around within. She didn’t speak but simply smiled at him.

“So, this is the choice, huh?” Arcturus asked

The other women all studied him and their only response was to simply nod at his question.

Arcturus hummed and brought it to his lips. Though instead of taking a sip, he drew in a deep breath through his nose.

“Yep, smells… strong,” he murmured.

“Most mystical brews do,” Theodora said.

“Any hints about what this potion does?” Arcturus asked.

There was no response from the assembled seers. It would seem that this was something that the fates didn’t want him to be privy too.

“Nice temple, isn’t it?” Persephone asked, letting out a sigh. “Anybody would be lucky for a chance to live here.”

Helen glared at her and the other seer sealed her lips.

“Wait…” Arcturus began, realization dawning upon him. “Does this turn me into one of you?”

Helen huffed and glared at Persephone. “The fates did not want him knowing about that until after he drank the potion.”

“Why would they want that information to be hidden from me?” Arcturus asked, drawing the potion away from himself. He instead looked warily at the seers, suddenly feeling incredibly ill at ease. These women were up to something and he didn’t like it one bit.

“Because trying to convince people to join our ranks is a pain in the ass,” Theodora quipped as she also shot Persephone a sharp look. “Who wants to live on a mountainside in a decrepit temple for the rest of their life?”

“I mean it doesn’t seem all that bad,” Arcturus said.

Theodora snorted. “Wait until winter when you have the wind blowing right through the middle of this place. Then tell me how much you like the idea of living here.”

“How can I be sure that your prophecy is even true,” Arcturus replied, glaring at her. “Maybe you’re just scamming me. How do I know that you’re really even seers?”

Helen smirked. “Your favourite colour is evergreen.”

Then Theodora cut in. “When you were five, you shattered a wine vase and blamed it on a slave. The punishment he received still haunts you.”