The Scholar, the Sphinx, and the Threads of Fate

Chapter 2-2

As Acacia thought about it, she wondered why Nyx hadn’t forced another Shade down her throat to t*****e her or implanted one in her mind to make her concede to becoming his missionary. Why merely taunt her with the sight of them? She cringed to think what Nyx had done with Tyr—being a god-warrior from his realm of Asgard, Tyr may have been more threatening to Nyx, and the night god might have done something truly awful to dispose of him.

But there was something that writhed in Acacia’s soul even more than that, more than what would become of herself, Tyr, Hypnos, or her dear friends Gullin and Tanuki who had been left stranded back in the human world. It was that Nyx had taken something from her. Something important. Something she cared for. The worst of it was, she couldn’t remember what it was he had taken.

In a way, it was silly to feel such grief when she did not even know what it was. But it felt like a limb had been torn from her, as if an integral part of her was severed. The loss was so great that tears would tumble down her face in her most lonesome moments, and she would irritably wipe them away with her paws, not knowing what she was crying over. Whatever it was, Nyx had taken it, she just knew it. She had questioned the birds about it, but none of them had any idea what she was talking about. The sphinx vowed that once she was out of this cage, she would tear Nyx’s entire adyton apart to recover her stolen…blast it to Hades, what was it?

She caught a sudden scent. She turned her head towards the corner of her cage, where a dish of beef and barley soup had appeared. It no longer caught her by surprise when meals popped into existence in her cage; this was Nyx’s realm, after all, and anything he willed could generate from the all-encompassing night. But Acacia turned away from it, even though her stomach growled fiercely. Better to waste away than accept anything from that coldhearted thief.

“Don’t be a child,” the Night told her, his voice the very essence of winter.

The sphinx didn’t lift her head from her paws, but a snarl escaped her lips.

“It does me no good to have an acolyte who won’t eat.”

Acacia clenched her feline teeth. “I’m not your acolyte, Nyx.”

She could sense him walking around her cage, drumming his pale fingers against the bars. “You know it doesn’t have to be like this. I can force you to succumb to me, but it would be much more rewarding for the both of us if you would come to me willingly. I can be kind to my acolytes, Acacia, if they accept me and do my work.”

“Why bother with kindness? Why not have one of your Shades infest my mind and cloud my judgment to listen to you?”

The room became instantly colder. “That is the one flaw about faith. It needs to be earned through free will—the eternal problem we gods have with gaining followers. I could make you my slave whenever I wish. But your gift, your talent to persuade others with your silver tongue, will be of far more use to me than to make you my personal pet. And for you to garner more followers for me, you must be truly devoted, heart and soul and mind, to me. Hearts and souls are the two things my Shades cannot infect. Yet, I grow stronger every day, so if you continue to defy me long enough, you might find out just how wretched your fate could become.”

Acacia sat up, throwing back her mane of mahogany hair. “I’m sure you will have no issue garnering followers to you if you threaten them with the destruction of their world, once you have Fenrir’s power…” She glanced sideways at the Night. “Speaking of which, for someone who claimed it would take a few days for your Shades to drain the Great Wolf of all of his abilities, you are taking your sweet time with it.”

The moon-silver face of Nyx grimaced, the empty black orbs of his eyes narrowing. “The wolf has proven to be more uncooperative than I thought, despite how you and your friends weakened him.”

“My friends…why will you not tell me where Tyr is? Surely you don’t think a warrior like him will agree to be your acolyte as well—”

Nyx held up a hand to quiet her. “You should be less concerned with the warrior and the wolf and think more about what is best for you. Perhaps I should appeal more to your sphinx nature for your compliance.”

Acacia was disoriented for a moment as the space around her shifted. She now sat upon a great marble throne, the arms carved to imitate two winged lions with open jaws, and before her stretched the gathering room of a grand temple. It reminded her of the Temple of Apollo in

Greece from centuries ago, when she had visited the Oracle of Delphi once for a prophecy. White columns lined each side of the room, and the sight of it tugged at her heart, aching for the grandeur of her mother’s homeland from so long ago. She jumped, startled, at the sight of the whole floor teeming with people dressed in violet-black garments, on their knees, and their heads bowed towards her. She realized they were all droning some kind of mantra—she could make out the words “wisest,” “most divine,” “mistress of riddles,” and the most repetitious, “Great Sphinx.”

“You don’t understand anything!” Acacia roared, and with a mighty swipe of her paw, she broke off one of the heads of the throne-lions and it rolled down into the throng of people. “What makes you think I want to be idolized? That’s your sick desire, Nyx! You don’t know what I want…what I want…” Her claws extended, her fangs bared, and her voice dropped into a deep, predatory rumble. “I want what you took from me.”

your The illusion around her dissipated, and she was in her cage again. Nyx was directly in front of her, his expression calm but stone.

“I have taken nothing from you,” he said.

“YES, YOU HAVE!” Acacia thundered, and she lunged at Nyx even though she knew she could not break through the bars. “I don’t know what it is, but I will get it back.” A thought struck her, and she knew what she was about to ask would be a gamble, but she wanted to see what Nyx would say. “You want me as your acolyte. Then I will pledge myself to you, heart, mind and soul, if you give back to me what you took. It’s that simple. And don’t try to trick me by handing me just any old thing. I’ll know what it is you took when I see it. We sphinxes have a way of knowing, you know.”

A tinge of fire smoldered in Nyx’s eyes, and his frown was so tight it could have cracked his skin. “What you seek does not exist. You have deluded yourself into thinking you are missing something. I can give you anything you want, if you pledge yourself to me and let go of this delusion of yours.”

“I want what you took. Even though I don’t remember what it is, I will not forget, any more than one could forget if they were missing an eye, or a tongue.” She spat the last word, a vengeful reminder of all the years she could not speak, lest the Shade that had been inside of her should more quickly drain her cunning and her life.

Wait…how had the Shade of Nyx been removed from her? She remembered a prophecy that someone would save her from the Shade. It must have come to pass. Who had done it? Someone in the caravan that she had protected? Wasn’t there a stone, a turquoise stone, and a song…such a gorgeous song.

Gullin. The name fell flat into her thoughts, a simple fact like saying rain was wet. It made complete sense. He had been her dearest companion through all her days of searching for release from the Shade. He had been her loyal protector, even surrendering his status as a Master Huntsman and relinquishing his vow to hunt and slay all “vermin” from the other side of the Curtain. The white lily on his tattoo matched the prophecy she had been given, about how her savior would bear a white flower. His copper-bearded face molded into her memory, going off to seek the Singing Turquoise that would free her, bringing it back to her and unlocking its secrets to drive out the Shade and imprison it within the stone—

It wasn’t right. Even with Gullin’s façade being right there, rooted in her memory, she knew it wasn’t right. She couldn’t quite put her claw on it, but Gullin’s presence in those moments felt like hastily sewn patchwork; he was forced onto the recollection, masking over something else. She realized what it was that didn’t match Gullin—the song. The song that had freed her, it wasn’t like the rollicking Scottish folk songs that Gullin had always crooned about his homeland while traveling in the caravan. The song belonged to someone else. Its sweet viola voice, carrying with it promise and dreams and beauty, reflected the gentle heart it had spawned from. A heart she was positive did not belong to Gullin.

How had she never even thought about this revelation until now? Unless…

“You didn’t take something from me,” she hissed. “You took someone from me.”

thingone“What you want does not exist.” Nyx’s voice resounded like the infernal depths of Hades.

He dissipated into the surrounding darkness, leaving her alone again.

“GET BACK HERE!” Acacia felt a renewed energy, and she slammed against the bars.

She was on to something; Nyx had been shaken. “Who was it? What did you do??”

As quickly as hope had come to her, so did despair. If Nyx had taken someone from her, was that someone anyone she would ever see again? Was that someone even still alive? And if he, she, was dead, would there always be this bleeding wound in Acacia’s soul, that could never be mended again?