Divinity Absconding

When she was near, he could not take his gaze off her. When she was gone, he wondered if she were only a dream, and he'd wake in his residence, still undecided.

"Will it harm you?" he asked her of the sun.

She danced well clear of the sun-soaked tiles. "Of course not. At least, not directly," she said, her midnight hair twirling around her form as she spun back to Cy, leaning breathlessly into him. "My cousin sees all things in its light, and he will tell my father where to find me. I'm certain of it."

Cy ran his fingers through her roots, awestruck again at her beauty. "Then we will wait for night."

Her lips turned up. "Selene will not betray us."

*

Cy didn't count the days they spent in the abandoned house, making love when the sun rose and exploring further every evening. Afterward, they would lay in the grass together before dawn, speaking of inconsequential things.

Rarely, did the beautiful Teletê divulge of her life in Olympus, dismissing inquiries with a laugh or distraction. There was no reason for Cy to trouble himself over it. The gods were an overinflated lot anyhow, she assured him.

"And besides-" Her fingers traced the strong line of his neck as she nestled against his naked form. "-it's not as if I intend to return."

Cy marveled over her alabaster flesh, though trouble didn't sit far below the surface. "At least we've had no visits from- your family."

"Not that we are aware of." Her brow crumpled as she glanced out across the field. "You never know with them, or how they'll come to you. Sometimes, it's through the hand of a stranger. Others- might become bothersome little gnats to spy! I saw a doe in the field yesterday morning, watching the house with marked interest. How can we be sure it was not Artemis, at the behest of my father?"

"Who is your father?" Cy might have guessed but he wanted to hear it from her. "You've never said."

Her lips pursed, and then her eyes went dark, like they did when she was thinking up a distraction for him. She settled on a sigh and her gaze scoured his face. "What does it matter?"

Cy laughed before he could master himself. "I only wish to know how I'll die. Will it be from lightning? Or drowning? A deadly arrow, perhaps?"

She watched his mouth move. "So, this is what mortals busy their minds with."

"I don't know about the others," he said, brushing his lips against hers. "But when I find myself enchanted by a runaway goddess, I do have to wonder. And as you said, it never ends well."

Teletê hoisted herself atop him. "Fair enough." Her warm breath passed over the cleft of his chest before she kissed it. Sweet distractions. "Enough about them. Make love to me again. We still have time before Helios begins his journey across the sky."

Cy received the sensuous Teletê, obeying her every whim.

*

The wisps danced around Teletê as she flitted through the trees. Cy was hard-pressed to keep up with her inexhaustible endurance but he followed. He would not lose her, this goddess absconded from Olympus, who made love to mortal men.

That thought sat poorly in his gut.

Were there others? Did he have the authority to ask?

He, himself, had known other women. But they were not goddesses. He feared the stunning Teletê would grow bored of his mortal being as the gods were known to do. Perhaps, she was searching for another to take his place. To better protect her.

But when her eyes met his, and undiluted joy broke over her features, he knew peace.

She caught his hand and dragged him along, even as he was out of breath. "Come, we don't have all night! I want to visit the grotto before sunrise."

"The grotto?"

"Yes, it is supposed to be a wondrous place." Teletê's strength flooded into him, and the trek became tolerable. "I have heard the nymphs whisper of its beauty."

His voice grew cautionary, like his father's when Cy dared speak over him. "What will you do, Teletê, when you find this grotto?"

"Why, make love to you, of course." Golden eyes flitted back to appraise him. "Eat the grapes that grow from the vines. Summon the satyrs to play their melodies. Dance until the moon sets and make love again, for good measure."

Cy managed to smother a grin. "Surely, that's not all there is to life as a goddess."

"If there is any more, I want none of it," she said matter-of-factly, that shapely mouth turning down as she tugged him along. "Work is for mortals, I say."

A grin stretched his cheeks. "I will be sure to remember that."

The woods grew thicker around them. Truly, no mortal had ever set foot here besides himself. If Cy were to find his way back, he couldn't use the stars, concealed behind the heavy canopy. Only Teletê's light guided him through the shadows. Her hand slipped from his as they progressed, and she led ahead, her perfect sight clear on the path.

Without her strength, Cy faltered.

Teletê didn't seem to notice, pressing ahead, and soon, she had vanished from sight. The silence was heavy around him, thick with that midnight magic, where all things were possible. He didn't want to speak too loudly but had no other recourse. "Teletê.

"You have left me behind. Where are you?"

Foreboding washed over him, but soon he caught the glimmer of her light again, and pursued.

"Thank the gods," he began, pushing vines aside. "I nearly-"

They opened to a sunny clearing, not night at all. There were creatures so bizarre, small and large, flying and hooved, he couldn't begin to classify them. Some laid wide-pupiled eyes on him, others flitted by, ignoring his presence. But they all gravitated around an unavoidable figure in the center, waited on by adoring creatures and dressed in the finest blood-red robes.

Soft golden eyes fell upon him. A thick hand summoned, while another stroked the tips of an impressive pale beard. "Cy," said the man, his voice deep and resonating. "I have been waiting for you to visit me."

Cy stared in awe, his vision filled with the breadth of the god's form.

He knelt immediately on the moss.

"Away with the formalities," the god said on a laugh. "Such grimness has no place in my grove."

He dared look up, his skin growing chill. "Lyaios."

"Dionysus will do." There was an effort to his rise, and several fawn assisted him with strained calves and flicking ears. But when he was upright, he seemed steady. "You met my daughter, Teletê."

Cy's face flushed, recalling more than just their introduction. "I did not know-"

"You knew she was a goddess." The great god had no trouble in the lines of his wide face, only mirth. "A minor one, with at least a single divine parent. She is mine, and truly, the most wayward of the lot. How do you fancy her?"

He reddened further. "She is- incredible. Beautiful beyond words."

Dionysus gave a stiff nod, then stroked his beard again. "As are all my children." Cy believed him earnest until a jovial grin came over him. Then, he opened his arms wide. "Ah, leave the caution behind. You are welcome here, Cy of Athens.

"I have a task that needs doing, and only you can mete it out."

*

Hours seemed to pass in this warm, bright place as they spoke.

"Do you remember the freedman in the temple who offered you wine?" asked Dionysus, the sound of his voice leaving no room for Cy's answer. He filled a horn with deep red liquid. "That was me, and I find it quite rude for a mortal to refuse my offer.

"Though, this time, I don't think you will."

The god offered Cy the horn, which he accepted. "I meant no disrespect."

"No, certainly not." A pretty fawn draped against Dionysus' wide form, and he accepted her closeness with a friendly squeeze. "Drink, my boy, and be merry."

Cy took an eager drought, a familiar warmth spreading over his tongue. "I cannot, when I worry that Teletê is alone in those woods. I promised I would protect her."

"And you will," he said in turn, twin trails of red leaking down his pristine beard when he drank. A satyr rectified the spill with haste. Dionysus had not a care in the world, his magnetism so great, even Cy became entranced. "Teletê is young. She does not know that by attempting to evade her duty, she has, in fact, fulfilled it.

"Or else, why are you here?"

Cy blinked in surprise.

The god's rosy lips turned up. "You cannot witness a god if you are not a believer, and when this tale is through, your family will rejoice at the return of their son, who has chosen his patron deity."

"Forgive my candor," Cy said with caution. "But I do not wish to return home. I know..." He slowed and considered his words, though his tongue raced on. "I am only a mortal with no business in your affairs. Or hers. But I feel as if she is not through with me. Oh," he said, throwing his head in a hand. "What would the priests say to all this?"

There was a false sternness in Dionysus' brow that dissipated before it solidified. "The priests, he says! What do they do but riddle and gripe? By whose authority are they holding their stations? I will give you some advice." He leaned in intimately, his inebriate breath washing over Cy and making him drunker. "Avoid the quibbling priests. They only muddy our messages, take your money, and keep the best wines for themselves."

Cy laughed at this. His own father's hair would go white at the audacity.

But he sobered too soon. Perhaps, his thoughts were outside this timeless grove, where the very air threatened to drug him into an apathetic stupor. "I must go back to her. Once more, at least. If you do not want me to mingle with her, I understand but I must see Teletê one last time."

Confusion broke over Dionysus' generous countenance. "I did not summon you here to drive you from her. Quite the opposite."

A dryad, her leafy flesh transparent against the grove, took Cy's horn with whispering cold fingers. He did not fight it. "I don't understand."

"She trusts you, dear boy." He laid a heavy hand on his shoulder. His grip was powerful, flaming a strange resolve in his chest. "She listens to you, where she battles me at every opportunity. You are her first success, and there will be many more like you, drawn into our service." He seemed to notice Cy's deep dismay. "She has a great purpose, mortal, and you are but a branch on a tree. You cannot know what the heartwood murmurs."

Shame coursed through him, the wine in his blood doing little to dull the rejection. "I am no one."

Dionysus scoffed. "A tree cannot survive without its leaves.

"You will bring the sun into her and nourish her. She will grow stronger because of your devotion, and become all that she is meant to be. Without you, she could fade into nothing at all." Dionysus stroked the cheek of his beloved fawn. "Less than nothing."

"I do not want that for her," Cy said, desperation leaking into his next words. "What can I do, Dionysus? I would keep her alive with my own breath if you asked."

"How romantic." The god settled against his mossy throne with a crooked smile. "Things are not so dire as all that. But she cannot run from her destiny. If she does, she will fade, and I worry for her as any parent would."

"What would you have me do?" Cy asked again.

"Love her." Dionysus' expression was uncharacteristically grim. "Show her what devotion--true devotion--feels like. When her heart opens to yours, she will finally understand the importance of her work."

A tremulous breath escaped him. "She will leave."

"Distance is a mortal phenomenon."

Cy screwed his lips shut in consternation.

"She will not forget you so easily, boy. That, I can guarantee." Dionysus sighed, rising again with the help of his creatures, ushering Cy to do the same. "It is time you got to the task. I cannot hold Chronos' will back for much longer, or we may get a visit from below."

A thick arm was thrown over his shoulders and he was led from the grove.

The god's next words weighed like stones on his soul. "You have my blessing, mortal."

When he was released into the darkness of the forest, Cy pivoted on his heel. "But how do I-"

The grove was gone, and with it, the god and all his devoted followers. A wind swept through the clattering branches above. But the exhaustion that gripped him in their trek had evaporated, and his eyesight was heightened to the wisps so dim, they would have evaded him before.

The deeper he went, the closer he got to her. He could sense it.

"Cy," Teletê's bright, sweet voice called out. "Where are you, my love?"

He'd nearly forgotten Dionysus' instruction in that moment, stumbling after her glow. When he cleared the thickest of it, she ducked out from around a tree, her golden eyes full of relief.

"I thought I'd lost you!"

Cy smiled, taking her outstretched hand. "You could never lose me," he said, troubling himself over her inevitable departure. It will be I who loses you.

She folded her arms around him without a care, nuzzling against him. "Only a little further now, and we'll have the whole evening to ourselves."

"We must not forget the satyrs."

"Of course," she said on a simper, closing in for a kiss. "Music is an imperative."

Cy softened to her advance, inhaling the gentle scent of her skin. But as their lips closed in, she froze, going rigid before withdrawing. A shadow came over her. "You have met with my father."

He licked his lips to explain. "No- Teletê... I mean, I did but-"

Teletê tore from his arms as if he'd stung her, shaking her head. "I should have known," she said, her eyes filling with tears. "You are a traitor like all the rest!"

Cy's chest ached to watch her scramble from his presence, dashing off into the darkness. "Teletê!" he cried as he pursued, I am not like them. He could taste her on the air, the lights fading in her wake. If she grew to her full size, he'd never keep up.

His heart broke upon hearing her distant sobs.

"Dionysus, give me strength," he said under his breath, calling with all his being to find Teletê and assure her he only meant to keep her safe. To love her.

The trees shuddered around him and parted, folding open to reveal a narrow path, and a light beyond. Teletê's light. Could she be so near?

Cy pushed hard in pursuit, throwing himself into a charming midnight grotto. The moonlight flooded the soft grass under a waterfall, where a goddess lay curled up, weeping. She'd grabbed fistfuls of her tangled dark hair with her face to the ground, trembling.

He was frightened to see her this vulnerable again.

Cy fell to his knees and crawled to her. "Teletê. Teletê. I've never felt a love so powerful. You must believe me, Teletê."

Her body jolted with a sob, and she shook her head as if to bury it in the ground. "You do not know what the word means, you horrible little mortal!"

"How can you say such a thing?" He drew closer, near enough to touch, his heart splitting wide open. "Since the first moment I saw you, I could think of nothing and no one else."

"That is devotion! You cannot help it."

"It is more than that," he said, mourning her tangled tresses and her shivering form. "You are the most magnificent creature I have ever laid eyes on. Ask me to tear out my wretched heart and I'd do it. For if you are without, I have no need of it."

Her sobbing stilled but she did not look at him.

"Open your heart to mine, Teletê, and you'll know it's true." Cy dared sweep a hand down her back, closing over her, clutching her tightly. His lips were to her ear. "Do not close yourself off to me. Yes, I spoke with your father. How could I defy him? But I was only thinking of you."

She shifted beneath him slightly. "What did he tell you?"

"He said- that without my love for you, you could fade into nothing."

There was a great sigh in her form, then she shot him an accusing glance, her cheeks wet with tears.

"He said also that you will be loved by many more like me." Cy swallowed down the pain as he stroked her. "That I am just the first branch of a great tree that will nourish you.

"If that is all I am, I accept it."

Teletê scrubbed her eyes before rising. He yielded to her, still stroking her low back. Another sigh escaped her as she stared at her hands. "I do not want to be a scion of my father. I have already driven you to his worship. I could taste his wine on your lips."

"I do not love him like I love you," he said in turn.

"You called his name, rather than mine."

"Because when I called your name, beautiful Teletê, you fled." His laugh was soft and airy. "You can call it devotion but I've never known a love so great as what I feel for you."

She finally looked up at him without the veil of distrust, despair seeping in to her precious features. Cy fell over himself to gather her up, pressing her tightly against his chest. Could she feel it, that well overflowing inside him?

Teletê caught his shoulders, pressing her miserable face into his chest. Then, something changed. He felt it bloom in every facet of his being, soak into his fingers and toes and the root of each hair. His body sang in time with her vibration.

Her skin was glowing, and so was his.

The little motes danced merrily around them as they clasped each other, heart-to-heart. The grotto came to life around them with mythical creatures.

He kissed her tears away, cherishing her sweet face.

When her eyes opened, they were brighter than the sun, though they did not blind him. A small smile broke over her features. "You do love me."

"I have said as much." Cy's face was wet with his own tears. "How could I not?"

Her lips trembled and opened as if the words evaded her.

Cy didn't hesitate to claim her mouth, showing her just how deeply she'd changed him. Some distant melody began, softly, at first, then rising with the celebration. Many eyes were watching. Let them witness how he loved his Goddess.

Teletê surged in his arms until she was seated atop him and captured his face. Her malleable form pressed against his as he gathered her closer. Their passion overflowed, blinding him again. But he knew her, without having to see, their fingers intertwined. There could be no better fit.

Cy kissed the soft underside of her jaw, tasting her moan.

Sweet lips found his ear. "Thank you, Cy."

He thumbed her throat, losing himself in that velvet flesh. "Thank you, Teletê, for falling into my life." He kissed it, then the crook of her shoulder. "I was lost before you."

Her dark hair veiled them both but her eyes were full of adoration.

They inhaled each other and exhaled each other. Their flesh collided in this perfect union, and he found himself already inside her.

All that I am is yours, he thought, letting her shape his very essence.

He didn't know if he was Cy, any longer, in the grip of the Goddess Teletê. They floated somewhere between the earth and the sky, tethered by her will, alone. Her nails raked over his glowing flesh, leaving lines of glorious fire as he pushed to her end.

She missed a breath, those perfect teeth nipping his flesh. They yielded before doing any harm, kissing the spot as a jubilant laugh grew in her chest. He couldn't help but join her, losing track of his body until they could have been two spots of light, conjoined.

In the luminance, he became.

What he became, he didn't quite know. But he was no longer just a mortal. His soul had come out from the dark recesses of his being and had grown to an enormous size. Their every touch created, their every caress brought life.

Cy felt himself fan out to receive her divine light. He could be this for all time. Teletê sensed him, he knew, and basked in his offering. When she touched him again, electricity bloomed. When they collided again, sparks burst.

She grew brighter in his arms, so distant from his focus, and he knew she was near her end. Sadness crept in. Not for her but for himself. This union had to end, and when it did, Teletê's work was complete, at least with Cy.