The Island

10,000 words of centaurs and mythology and romance and happily-ever-after sex. Enjoy!

* * *

The waves settled down near the island, which Henry was happy to see as the boat pulled up to the dock. He didn't appreciate the rocking; he was built for land, and the ginger tablets he'd taken before getting on the small charter boat had barely settled his unease. The sky was gray-blue, and the water away from shore looked dark and menacing as he clambered off the boat and onto the stability of a well-anchored wooden surface.

But it was worth it. He'd arrived. She was here.

How a remote Greek island had a solid Internet connection he had no idea, but this was her home, and finally, finally, he was going to see her in person. Cameras were fine. Microphones were fine. But after nearly a year of dating her and never once touching her, they were finally going to be together.

Or at least closer. After all, they were well past "Hi, how are you." He grimaced nervously, wondering what would happen now that he was here. Technically, they'd done far more than just see each other half-naked over the camera. Lots of times. But still, it wasn't the same. She was gorgeous -- and standing here in real life, he felt wholly inadequate to be with a girl that pretty. Or smart. Or funny. Or simply flat-out amazing. He'd needed purpose in life, and he'd found it in the most perfect girl he could imagine, but being with her online definitely wasn't the same as almost being with her in person.

He stared up at the hillside from the dock. There were a few old ruins of Greek temples on the island, their crumbling stone columns edging above the green hills. Nearby, a small, pretty fishing village lay nestled up against the rocky shore, with a modern-looking squat glass hotel perched just behind it. She lived in the village of Auros, past here, up in the hills near the old ruins. She'd shown him the view of the Mediterranean out her window a few times, and he recognized this fishing village from behind.

The captain loosed the lines from the dock, hopped back on board, tipped his hat to Henry, and the boat shoved off. It hadn't been easy to get this far into the Mediterranean, well over the horizon line from anything resembling civilization. There were no ferries, no planes, and now the only boat captain that was willing to come out here was leaving without so much as a glance into his rear-view mirror. Henry swallowed, watching the little charter boat pull away and shrink into the distance, its motors revving up as it entered open waters. There was a worrying feeling of finality as it grew too small to see: There was no going back now.

But Melissa was waiting.

* * *

She'd said that Auros wasn't that far from the dock, a quick one-hour jaunt, but two hours up into the hills, Henry had only reached the edge of her tiny village. A dozen wooden houses, small and neat, with red-tile roofs, were scattered around the main road and a single dirt cross-street. They looked well-kept, although several had vines or ivy climbing their walls. A little white stone fountain quietly frothed in the square in the middle of the village, fed from some unseen spring.

No-one was here.

The windows were dark or shuttered, and the brown wooden doors were closed, and no-one was walking on the narrow cobblestone streets or in the village square. A fruit-and-vegetable cart loitered at one side of the square, piled high with fresh fruits and vegetables, but no-one stood behind it: Anyone could have scooted off with breakfast if they were inclined to thievery. Henry wasn't sure what had happened, but it seemed like everyone had disappeared just before he arrived. He shrugged. Maybe the villagers here were just insular, like those of the fishing village too. He hadn't seen anyone since disembarking, after all. Maybe they just didn't go out much.

He continued past the square on the street north, and saw the sign for house #12. This was Melissa's house --

-- and the small shuttered window was open. And she was standing in it.

Without a shirt.

She was naked.

She didn't seem perturbed by it. He couldn't fathom why. She stood silently, biting her lip over a nervous smile, her hands and breasts resting comfortably on the wooden windowsill. He stared, trying not to boggle at her breasts, but they weren't small, and her pink nipples had perked up in the cool air, and as he approached, she smiled wider and they jiggled a little. He'd seen her without a shirt before -- but that was on a camera, which didn't do justice to how gorgeous she looked in person. She was wearing a little makeup, too: Had she done herself up to meet him? Her wavy hair, brown with reddish highlights in the sun, looped around behind her head to form a ponytail that danced over her left shoulder and down her chest, stopping just shy of her nipple. Her brown eyes, bright and shining, seemed like the deepest pools he'd ever stared into, and her lips were red and full.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi -- " The word was almost a choke. He couldn't imagine ever seeing her in a camera again after seeing her like this.

"You made it," she said.

"Um -- yeah -- "

She glanced down at herself and grinned. "It may -- take a little getting used to, but people here don't always wear clothing. We're not 'nudists.' We just -- we often don't wear anything. It makes more -- sense. It's -- appropriate. In this, uh, environment. Weather. Climate. I figured throwing you into the deep end was the best way to introduce you to it."

"You could've warned me," he said, his face pink.

She laughed softly. "Well, it's not like you haven't seen my tits before."

He swallowed hard at the word, failing not to stare. "Yeah."

She grinned wider, recognizing his stare. "I'm super-flattered, Henry. Tonight, after we share a lovely dinner on the balcony at sunset, you'll get to do a lot more than just look at them. And you're gorgeous and handsome too -- " She breathed deeply. "Gods alive, you're amazingly hot in person. I'm going to wine you and dine you, and I swear to you that I'm going to make tonight the best night of your life."

She paused.

"But -- but right now, there's something important you need to do. Something you have to do before we can do anything else."

Henry paused. "Uh, what's that?"

"I can't tell you exactly," she said. "You need to trust me and just do what I tell you to. I promise it's not a bad thing, and it won't take long, but it's -- important."

"I trust you." Henry reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring box.

Melissa took a deep breath, her hand over her chest. "Oh --!" She gasped. "That's -- that's -- is that -- that --?"

"I asked to marry you," said Henry. "I still want to."

"So amazing," she breathed. "Henry, I want to say yes so much. I do I do I do I do! I would take forever in a heartbeat. But -- you have to -- to do the other thing first. I -- it's really important. If you ask me after that, I promise on every religion ever that I'll say yes -- and then -- you can forget waiting until after dinner, I'll put that ring on my finger and make every sex message we ever sent to each other come true."

He turned a little pink. "I, uh -- um. All right, what's the thing?" he said.

She took a deep breath and bit her lip. Slowly, she pointed out the north end of town, up into the hill. "There's -- an old ruined temple up there. To the Greek goddess Hyla."

"Hyla?"

"You need -- to go up and into it. And then -- "

"Hm?"

" -- then just say aloud -- that -- that you want to stay here. On the island." She let out a long, deep breath.

Henry paused. "That's it?"

She nodded, swallowing hard.

"That doesn't sound very hard," he said.

"Henry -- "

"Hm?"

Her lip quivered. "If -- if you decide to leave after you go there -- and you might -- I promise I'll understand. But -- I hope you decide to stay. With me."

"Melissa -- " he said, taking a step forward.

She shied back a little. "No -- up to the temple first," she said, pulling one of the shutters closed. "And then -- say you want to stay."

"I want to stay."

She shook her head. "You have to do it there. Please, I know it sounds crazy, and I know I sound crazy and this all looks crazy -- but -- trust me. Just go up there, and do the thing, and then you can come in here and I promise you -- when you come back -- I swear to everything holy that I'll make today the best day of your life." She gently squeezed her breast with her hand, just in case he had any doubt about what she meant. "Please just trust me and visit there first."

He took a very deep breath, and nodded. "I trust you."

* * *

The road north of town continued up into the hills, small rocky hills covered in waving yellowy-green grasses. He didn't get very far before the road changed from stone to dirt, and then it narrowed to just a thin sliver of sand beating its way through the grass. Twenty minutes of steady climb later, the ruins of a temple, backed by a dense thicket of overgrown cypress trees, loomed high on the right side of a hill, and another, thinner path continued up toward it.

Henry turned up the hill and worked his way up to the temple. Crumbled chunks of marble and granite lay strewn about, forgotten by time. It was once a thing of beauty, but now, not much of it was left: a chunk of a column here, a bit of wall there, all scattered over a ruined white stone floor with ugly brown weeds growing in the cracks. There might have once been decorative tiles in places, but it was hard to pick out any mosaics they might have once depicted. He looked back out off the hillside, at the amazing view out over the sea, and marveled that even from this height he couldn't see any of the other Greek islands. A fresh breeze of cool and salty Mediterranean air blew past.

He turned back toward the temple and noticed a small white stone altar standing on a chunk of a dais at the far end. The dais itself was badly crumbled, but the altar strangely seemed fresh and new, or at least undamaged by the centuries. Henry walked up to it and stopped in front of it. He ran his hand gently over its pristine edges, which seemed sharp enough to cut him. He wasn't sure if the altar had been newly-placed here, or if it had somehow survived while the rest of the temple had crumbled. Surely it had to be the former: The temple was thousands of years old, and even if the altar had lasted as long, it ought to show some signs of wear and tear.

He took a step back, glancing around. There didn't seem to be any obvious reason he was here, but Melissa had insisted on it, so he was going to do it. He cleared his throat.

"Hello?"

There was no answer. He shrugged, and turned, looking out toward the sea again.

"I -- uh -- my name is Henry, and I'm new to the island," he said to no-one, feeling silly. Another sea breeze bustled past him, and he pulled his jacket tighter for a moment. "I came here for a girl named Melissa, who lives here. We talked online a lot for the last year, and we're in love, and I want to marry her. But she said I need to come here and -- to ask to stay, so, uh -- if anybody's listening, I want to stay."

Nothing seemed to happen.

Henry sighed. He wasn't sure what kind of game Melissa was playing. Was this a game? Was "playing" even the right word? She'd always been so open and honest in all their chats, so direct and straightforward. She'd poured out her heart to him, telling him everything about her life and her family and herself and her hopes and her dreams and fears, and he'd shared the same. They'd spoken for hours every day, argued over life and love and the world and politics and art and music, group-watched movies together, and texted until the darkest hours of the morning in both their time zones. But now, in person, she seemed strangely guarded -- despite being naked. -- Which was also strange for her.

He shook his head and turned around to bid the temple ruins farewell.

A woman was sitting on the altar.

She was clad in fine white linen robes that draped from her shoulders to her bare feet. The robes were the purest white he'd ever seen, and they waved gently in the wind coming up from the shore. Her dark hair was tied with a golden thread in bunches like grapes trailing from her head over her shoulder. Henry looked closer, and he wasn't certain if she didn't have a few actual grapes growing on a rich green vine that looped through her hair. She had dark eyes darker than her hair, and a pale complexion that almost seemed to glow --

-- no, she was -- actually glowing.

The glowing woman sat with her legs crossed, the left one gently dangling over the edge of the altar, and braced against her hand. She wore a smile but didn't seem to be doing anything else except waiting for him to react.

"Who -- are you?" said Henry.

"So you'd like to stay with Melissa, hmm?" she said.

Henry took a step closer. "Who are you?" he repeated.

"The goddess Hyla, dear," she said. "You ought to know, since you're standing in my temple and you summoned me."

Henry frowned. "Uh -- right." he said. "With all due respect, the Greek gods don't exist."

She shook her head. "Mortals," she said. She snapped her fingers.

All at once the stones littering the ground leapt into the air, whirling and swirling on invisible winds, soaring past Henry's head and nearly striking him. They grew and filled out and settled above and beside and all around him, fusing together into solid massive blocks as if they'd never crumbled, and in a matter of seconds, he was standing inside a temple, a real marble temple, with tall columns and a sturdy sloped roof. The white floor was clean and clear. Detailed mosaics lined the walls in brilliant colors, each depicting battles and victories and Greek monsters and creatures, an entire mythology storybook looping fully around him.

The woman snapped her fingers again, and torches lit up on bronze mounts on the columns, each one at a time, but in rapid succession until the whole interior glowed a healthy yellow-orange, the light of the sun restricted to the grand arched entrance behind him.

"There, that's better," she said. She inched off the altar to stand on the stone dais, now smooth white marble that looped in a semicircle along the back wall, raised two steps from the pristine floor.

"Who -- how -- " Henry looked all about, stammering at the impossible sight that had bloomed around him.

"So you'd like to stay, hmm?" she said, ambling over to him. She grabbed his chin and stared at his face, examining each side of it. "Good cheekbones. I like those angles on you. A little underwhelming in the pecs and belly, but we can fix that. I daresay you probably sit too much." She let go and circled back toward the altar.

"You -- you're really a goddess?" said Henry.

"Indeed," she grinned, leaning against the altar.

"But -- but -- gods aren't -- I mean -- I don't remember your name being in the old Greek myths. Who are you? How does no-one know about you?"

"I like to keep this place quiet," she said. "Otherwise, you get tourists, and you get gawkers, and you get witch-burnings, and I really don't like replacing my clothes when they get burned at the stake."

"You were burned at the stake?"

"Well, you mortals have tried a few times, but it really takes a bit more than fire to kill a god, you know? A hundred thousand years of you things walking on this world, and you still haven't figured out how to interact with us."

Henry bowed. "Please -- if it pleases your, uh, highness -- your majesty? -- Melissa said I need to ask to stay here, and I think -- I think she meant that I was supposed to ask your permission. So I'm sorry if I gave any offense, and if it pleases you, um, I would like to stay here -- if I could."

"Well, at least you're respectful," she said. "You might make a good addition to the place. We don't have enough young men here, and I rather enjoy having young men about." She blew him a kiss, winking at him. "You might belong to the girl, but I daresay you still might be good for my island. A good addition to the team, as it were. You'd really like to stay?"

He nodded. "Yes'm. I love Melissa."

She grinned. "She's a good catch. More-or-less. But there are consequences to staying," she said. "And you might not like them. So I'll give you a choice: You can stay, and pay my price. You might think the price high, though it is not. Or you can leave, and I'll strike all memory of this place from you; you'll be back on the mainland and forget everything you saw here, but otherwise no worse for the wear."

"I want to stay with Melissa," he said. "I love her."

The goddess frowned. "Think, boy. Your choice may not be what you expect. There is a cost. And that cost to stay may be higher than you are willing to pay. I ask you one last time: What would you choose?"

Henry reached into his pocket and pulled out the little box. He opened it and held it up. "This is a diamond ring," he said. "I bought it -- to ask for Melissa's hand -- in marriage. I've never met a girl like her. I want to be with her for the rest of my life. If I go back, I have nothing. I already quit my job. I don't have close family. She's the reason I'm here. I have a future with her. I have nothing back home. If not here, then -- I don't know where I'd go next."

Hyla nodded. "Well, it seems you've made your choice then. You want to stay on my island? You'll abide by my rules."

"I'll do whatever it takes to be with her," said Henry.

She eyed him, her eyes narrow slits, then stood up, shrugging. "So be it then. Here are my rules if you are to stay: First, you do not share what you learn of my island with outsiders. The girl wisely did not. And neither will you. Break that rule, and I will stomp you into sand and stomp the sand into dust and scatter your dust on the horse manure in the streets. No-one breaks that rule, ever. As far as outsiders know, this island is just a little remote dot of land, ordinary, unimportant, unremarkable -- not worth paying any attention to. No goddess, no nothing."

Henry choked a little, but nodded.

"Second, you do not disavow me or disobey me -- I won't ask much of you, but you will do this much: You don't need to worship me -- I don't want stupid mortals bowing to me, it's a complete waste of your limited lives -- but you will acknowledge that I exist and that I'm in charge of this place. I'm a goddess, and I expected to be treated with respect."

He nodded again.

"Good. Now, third, and final rule: -- but before I state it, let me ask you a question."

"Yes?"

"Have you ever seen Melissa?"

"Of course I have!"

"All of her?" said the goddess.

Henry paused. "Well, no, I mean -- we met on camera over the Internet. We've seen each other's faces. I've seen everything important."

The goddess chuckled. "Is that so? Then the third, and final rule: No complaining."

"Uh -- okay?"

"Your girl almost violated that one. She came here years ago, and she agreed to my rules and claimed she'd like the life I gave her here. But she grew lonely, and she came very close to breaking that rule a year ago. So I gave her an Internet connection so she could find you. But you? You will not complain about the circumstances under which you are allowed to stay, do you understand? You stay by my grace, and if you complain like she did, I swear I will turn you both into marble statues in the town square and birds will shit on your heads for a few centuries just to make my point."

Henry shuddered, and bowed deeply. "If I can be with Melissa, I will never complain to you no matter the circumstances. I promise."