Prophet Seeking Pt. 01

Author's Note- Sorry for the wait. Life after 2020 got pretty hard. To reward the patience of my dear readers, I will be releasing a new piece every few weeks. The stories can be read stand-alone or as a whole. Thanks for your continued love and support! Hope you enjoy them!

~A Walk on the Wild Side~

"Did you know that this spot was once a center of worship for the god Pan?" Claire recited from a guidebook to her uninterested companions as they strolled amongst the sundrenched ruins. "The ancient Greeks came here to make offerings to find love. Maidens from all over the land would travel here to seek guidance from a famous love prophet."

"That's fascinating." Jess replied, though her bored tone suggested it was anything but.

"Enough with the studying. We're supposed to be on spring break! Put down that damn book and enjoy the scenery." Lana, the blunter of Claire's two roommates snatched the book from her fingers.

"It is beautiful." Claire conceded, craning her neck in all directions to truly take in the majesty of the location. The lush rolling hills of Arcadia dotted with terra cotta topped cottages were a world away from the stark industrial skyline of Boston.

"I wasn't talking about that scenery." Lana sneered. She seized Claire's chin turning her head towards a group of Greek guys standing across the meadow, part of the spattering of tourists and locals wandering around the spot. One of them returned Lana's gaze with a wink. Another called out something in his native tongue. None of them spoke the language but the gist of his words was rather obvious. Lana and Jess giggled in return. Claire quickly turned away.

Truthfully the three girls couldn't have been more different. Jess had the effortlessly easygoing, bleach blonde vibe of a California Gurl. Lana, with her raven hair and kohl-rimmed cat eyes, had a darkly exotic charm and a fiery temperament that turned the men folk into slobbering idiots. In comparison Claire's pale complexion, short mousey hair and even mousier disposition made her feel pretty much invisible next to the glamour pair. Not that she really cared. To her the attention of men was pointless at best. The dirty-minded duo was another story. They could be relied upon to bring up men and sex approximately every five minutes. Claire glanced at her watch. Three, two...

"I heard European guys are dynamite in the sack." Jess tittered.

Right on time. Claire's eyes rolled as the conversation took its predictable turn towards the gutter. She had been pleasantly surprised how much she got along these ladies who were friends by sheer luck of rooming assignment at their college dorm. With their more extraverted dispositions they were good at dragging her away from her studies once in a while and kept her from taking herself too seriously. Claire even found she enjoyed a little girl talk. The only problem was that the discussion always seemed to return to the same subject, like a never-ending Sex and the City marathon with no clicker in sight. "Really, do you ever think of anything else?"

"Spoken like a true virgin." Lana snorted. "I don't know about you, but I didn't come here for the ouzo and the crumbling landmarks. If I don't have a Greek god between my legs before the week is through I'll consider this vacation a total bust."

"If anyone needs the attention of a Greek god it's Claire. Nearly 22 and still a virgin. It's a travesty." Jess joined in, unhelpfully.

"Practically a Greek Tragedy." Lana made an exaggerated pout with her wine dark lips.

"You're the classicist, Claire. What do you think your precious ancient Greeks would say about your prudish ways?"

Claire felt her pale cheeks flush with heat just thinking of the many X-rated tales she had come across in her studies. For fictional characters, the gods sure did get up to some real mischief. "That was a long time ago. Times change, you have to account for cultural mores and historical contex-"

"Oh Claire. Some things never change." Lana interrupted, her dark almond eyes lit with amusement and something Claire strongly suspected was pity. "I mean this in the nicest possible way but hunnycakes you need to get laid before your snatch closes up tighter than a clam on chowder Tuesday."

Claire was thankfully spared an embarrassing rebuttal when Jess stumbled on a rock and proceeded to launch into a string of highly inventive expletives. "Holy mother of Gronk. My feet are killing me." She grumbled, raising one leg to grab her 3-inch, bright pink platform heel.

"Well if you didn't insist on wearing circus stilts on a hike." Claire grumbled back. She gestured to her own sensible running sneakers. Why any female would subject herself to uncomfortable footwear and constricting clothing just to impress dim-witted, knuckle-dragging bros who learned their manners in a frat house was beyond her. "Never mind, we're almost there." She assured her impatient friends, picking up her pace towards the top of a wooded plateau.

As promised the site could be seen from the hilltop. Nestled just below, in a sheltered valley, a row of half toppled pillars seemed to grow out of the sunbaked earth. They were interspersed with olive trees whose curvaceous branches cast dappled patches of much-needed shade on the thirsty ground. At the end of the corridor of trees and columns stood a lone statue, the main reason for Claire's interest in the location.

Claire practically raced down the hill, quickly covering the short distance between her and the marble figure. She had read up enough on the site to know that this was an unusual portrayal of the rustic deity. Most depictions of Pan showed him to have animalistic qualities; the hooves and furry haunches of a goat, a goatish beard and, most notably, the inhumanly proportioned genitalia expected of a fertility god.

But the statue before her had none of those qualities. Apart from small horns budding from his forehead and a slightly wolfish grin about his marble mouth, the statue depicted a classically beautiful young man. He had one humanlike leg raised and his head thrown back, forever frozen in an ecstatic moment of dance. The erect member jutting out from between his powerful legs was definitely of pornstarlike proportions but not outside the realm of the anatomically possible, Claire presumed.

She stared into his face, her mind filling with thoughts of what it would be like to run her fingers through his messy curls. To feel the rise and fall of his firm chest and find it, not cool stone, but warm flesh. To slide her hands lower still, past his rippling abs to-

"Damn, what a stud!" Lana interrupted her unwelcome tangent, casting an appreciative glace over the statue and elbowing Claire playfully. "Maybe your interest in this place isn't so academic after all."

Claire laughed away the idea. She would never understand how Mankind had risen above the beast only to cast themselves back down to the level of drooling, panting animals the instant a member of the opposite sex turns their heads. It was weak, and what's worse, illogical. Yet something about the way Pan's intense eyes staring out from the delicately carved facade made her feel a bit more sympathetic towards mankind's animal weaknesses. Not that she would ever admit to the same weakness.

At least not out loud.

≈

"This can't be the place." Jess cast a dubious glance at where the tour bus had deposited the trio moments before.

At the end of a winding drive, perched along the side of a cliff, stood their destination. Even in the fading twilight of evening it was clear the little inn had seen better days. Its crumbling stucco façade, nearly swallowed up by weeds, stretched the term 'rustic charm' to the outer limits. The sign out front read The Horned Gate with two curved horns coming together to form an archway around the name.

"C'mon guys its authentic. You don't find an old-world gem like this in some touristy guidebook." Claire tried to lift the mood.

What she neglected to mention was that she had found the place in a book. Not a glossy, new travel guide, mind you, but an old yellowed edition of The Odyssey that she had found in the deepest dustiest bowels of a research library. There in the margin of one of the pages she noticed an address for the inn had been scrawled next to the carefully underlined verse gates of polished horn. According to Homer it was where true dreams come from. Sounded like as good a place as any to spend the night.

"It just better have wifi." Lana whined as they made their way up the rocky path.

Despite the ancient look of the exterior, the inn lobby was vaguely modern and unexceptional though the woman behind the check-in desk was anything but. She couldn't be a day under 80 or an inch above 5 feet and her uniform was... unusual, to say the least. Victorian broach, 80s style neon bangles, all thrown on top of what appeared to be a prohibition era flapper dress. A tiny pillbox hat sat on a head of long white hair. It was as if she wandered into a thrift shop and said 'gimme one of everything'.

The eccentrically dressed octogenarian smiled as they approached, causing deep, soulful wrinkles to collect at the corners of her eyes. The milky white orbs shifted in their general direction but seemed to look straight through them. Ah, she's blind. That might account for the questionable fashion. Either that or it was laundry day.

Jess tried some phrasebook Greek before the old woman broke in- "Hiya dolls."

"You speak English?" Jess's tone reflected her surprise.

"I speak many languages. Spanish, Japanese, Klingon, jive." As she went she counted on thin pale fingers. "No telling who might drop in." A beatnik Klingon maybe?

"Great! Well, we'd like two rooms."

"Yes. Yes, I've had them all made up for your arrival."

"But we didn't make a reservation."

"That doesn't mean you weren't expected." Despite her lack of sight, the innkeeper turned smoothly to face the row of keys hanging behind the check-in desk. Within moments deft hands had plucked one from the multitude and placed it on the counter.

"Woah, I wish I could find my keys that fast." Jess joked.

The ancient lady curled up her pruney brow and dropped her voice to a hush whisper. "Though my eyes do not work I can see which way the hep cat jumps. Which is why I'm more of a dog person. Fewer hairballs." She ended her peculiar speech with an off-kilter grin.

The three girls exchanged quizzical looks. Okey dokey. This lady is a few pillars short of a Parthenon.

"Anyway... I don't suppose you know where the nearest bar is?" Lana asked.

"Sure. There is a swell juice joint just down the road. Be sure to knock three times and give the doorman my name."

"What's your name?"

"Wouldn't you like to know." She shot Lana a finger gun in her general direction.

"Thanks for the hot tip... I think." Lana snatched up the key and quickly shifted gears away from Crazy Buchannan over there. "Jess and I will take the double. We're going to drop our bags in the room and then it's off to what very well may be a speakeasy for a drinkee-poo or seven. Why don't you come with us, Claire?"

"Not tonight. I'm exhausted. I think I'm gonna hit the sack. You two have fun though."

"Oh, that's the plan." Lana called out as they dashed off down the hall.

Claire jumped when boney fingers suddenly wrapped around her wrists. She turned her head to meet the innkeeper-turned-flapper-turned-mental-patient face to face. Her sightless eyes narrowed as if examining her. Was she really being sized up by a blind lady? Rude. The seconds ticked by as she appeared to be weighing something. Finally her face screwed up into a wrinkly lopsided smile and she pronounced, "I have just the room for you, jitterbug."

Before Claire could blink a room key to a "special suite" was enthusiastically pressed into her hand. She was ushered down a narrow corridor and after a few twists and turns they eventually arrived at a brick red door with a silver plaque inscribed Themis Suite. She was ushered into a room that was sparingly decorated in cream and light blue tones. A gust from the open bay window made the white curtains wave gently, adding to the light inviting feel. Considering the run-down look of the outside, she was pleasantly surprisingly to find the inside so tidy and welcoming. Still Claire wondered what about the room made it worthy of the grand name of Themis, the goddess of divine order and prophecy.

And then she saw the reason- a magnificent bed, big enough to fit a whole rowing team (oars and all). The frame was solid and immovable as if it appeared to be built into the wall. Actually upon closer inspection she noticed it was rooted to the earth itself. The wooden flooring was cut around the legs as if it had been carved from a massive ancient tree that once stood in that spot.

As Claire got closer, she could make out the intricate carvings that were all over the frame even down the legs and on the thick posts of the canopy. There were pictures of young, nude women dancing, mythical heroes pursuing fantastical creatures but mostly it was covered in depictions of lovers locked together in various sensual positions. In the center panel of the headboard was the bust of Themis. She was a beautiful woman with braids wrapping around her temples and a scale balancing above her head. Her serene face looked down over the sleeper with expressionless eyes.

"Nifty isn't it." The old women cooed from over her shoulder. Claire hadn't even heard her approach. Creepy.

"Oh yes," was all she could manage in her awestruck admiration.

The academic in Claire longed to study the glorious carvings further but her inner couch potato was demanding some rest. The rustling sheets seemed to be calling her name. Sheer curtains secured from each bedpost moved in and out like a living breathing thing beckoned her into its soft embrace.

Sunburnt and tired from a long day of sightseeing, she gladly answered its call, barely managing to kick off her sneakers before sinking into the plush white linen. The cool breeze and comfortable bedding were already beginning to lull her to sleep so that Claire barely even registered the eccentric old innkeeper's words as she slipped out the door.

"Sweet dreams" she whispered, winking one milky eye. "And watch your head."

Ω

"Wake up, wake up, you're missing all the fun." Said Jess in Claire's ear. Only it didn't really sound like Jess. It was another voice, higher and sweeter.

Claire sat up straight and met a tree branch head on. "Mother nature!" She grabbed her rattled noggin and waited for the ringing to stop before carefully peeling her eyes open. Trees, stars, hills. Not the sunlit hotel room that she had been expecting. The beautifully carved bed was gone too. In its place she found herself on a mound of cool, prickling grass. What the huh? Bewildered, she scrambled into all fours, her hands groping for the sheet that wasn't there.

With a downward glance Claire noticed she was no longer wearing the yoga pants and cotton tee that she had fallen asleep in. In their place was a thin flowing robe that gathered at the waist with a bright red sash.

Her brain immediately went to work searching for a logical explanation for all this. After all, there was always a logical explanation for everything. She had to be dreaming. Any minute now she'd find herself facing her whole chemistry class in her birthday suit. But this felt different than her usual stress dreams. The cool dewy grass between her toes, the soft rustle of fabric skimming the subtle curves of her trim body. It felt real.

"Well, come on then."

For the first time Claire looked up to search for the voice's owner. It came from a girl wearing a similar loose white tunic to her own. A crown of pink flowers rounded her head of bright red curls. Claire guessed the girl was probably a couple years younger than herself. Eighteen maybe. The sprinkling of freckles upon her cheeks and the lively smile across her lips gave her a pretty, fresh-faced look.

"Where am I?"

"You're not from around here, are you? That's alright, they've come from all over for tonight. Make haste or we'll be late for the festivities!" Before Claire could question her further she was being hauled to her feet by her eager companion and dragged towards a massive lilac bush.

"He favors lilacs." She explained as she plucked handfuls of the fragrant purple flowers.

"Who is he?"

"Don't you ask a lot of questions," was her only reply. The girl turned to her to weave a small sprig of lilacs into Claire's hair. "I'm Tessa, by the way."

"Claire."

"I know." Tessa said, grabbing her hand again. "Let's go!"

Their fingers entwined and before she knew it Claire was being pulled onward. As they made their way deeper into the forest Claire felt like she was getting further and further away from the world she knew. The woods leaned in to embrace her. The wind pulled at her short brown hair. Stray leaves brushed against her skin like stroking fingers.

They were picking up speed now, all the while following strange rustic music that seemed to both calm and excite. The terrain began to tug at Claire's memory like she'd been there before. Then suddenly she found herself amongst the pillars that had been ancient ruins earlier that day. Or was it centuries ago? Who can keep track? Only now they were whole and new, reaching towards the sky in their original splendor. Her thoughts raced. The line of a movie sprang to mind, you know the one about not being in Kansas anymore.

There was a reasonable explanation for what she was seeing, she assured herself. The unusual food, the stresses of traveling, all those hours of research with those dusty old books. It had to be a hallucination, simply a very surreal one. That's it! No more souvlaki and Sophocles before bed for this gal.

Yet there was little time to analyze when her senses were being engulfed in intoxicating sensations; the smell of lilacs in the air, the feel of the grass beneath her bare feet, the enchanting flute music that carried on the breeze from some unknown source. They worked together to cast a sensual spell that made little things like reason seem unimportant.

"Hurry, we're almost there." Tessa exclaimed, her voice rising a few notes in excitement.

Claire followed, no longer bothering to question the wheres or whatfors. It wouldn't do any good anyway.

Tessa eventually led her to a large clearing where a big bonfire cast dark silhouettes. A dozen young women swayed and twirled around it, their lithe bodies sending dancing shadows in every direction. The heap of empty wine amphora scattered around the fire suggested that the party had been going on for quite some time. Not to mention the slightly frenzied look in the girls' sparkling eyes. The scene reminded Claire a little too much of the end of The Wicker Man for comfort.

That got her thinking about just how well maidens like herself tended to fare in most of the myths she knew. Not great. Seemed like every toothy, scaly, slimy creature in creation had a hankerin' for virgin tartare.

"What kind of party did you say this was?" Claire ventured. "Because I'll tell you right now I don't do karaoke or human sacrifice."

Tessa giggled coyly in response. "I promise you won't be subject to anything as horrible as karaoke. As for sacrifice- you could say a kind of offering is required but it's nothing you're likely to miss."

Great. More fortune cookie speak. What's a girl gotta do to get a straight answer around here? But before she could find out the music suddenly stopped, abruptly ending their conversation.

"It's time! Those who have traveled the farthest get to go first." Tessa explained coaxing Claire forward. "That would be you."