Sanctuary

Penelope

Now surrounded by strangers and completely alone, she muttered to herself, "Once again, I find that the darkness clings to me. I spent so long reaching for the light, but now it's gone out. I feel a chill deep in my bones no fire could banish." 

Penelope needed help. Xanthos, her eldest son, had gone to his new room to rest up for his next shift, a thought that made her shudder. Kicked out of the inn for giving birth too loudly, she was left wandering the streets. As she ambled, her mind became lost in questions. Will I have to beg on these streets? Sit with these filthy people and ask for charity? Where will my baby and I sleep tonight? Concerns plagued her as she scurried from one street to another, searching for a warm smile in the bustling crowds, but finding none. She wandered down a vast network of streets and alleyways, where each stranger she happened upon seemed in ever worse condition. It became so each face looked more sallow and wary than the last and ever more haggard. Her hope felt as hollow as the cheeks of these beggars.

Mnemosyne, goddess of memory, why do your gifts bring such bittersweet joy? I can almost see my home, see our dear farm in my mind's eye, but it's a world away. I long for a past I cannot get back. Is this to be my future? 

She was lost.

Distraught and alone, Penelope’s resolve dissolved before her as she looked around at her options for the night. A dark corner in some alleyway would suffice, but this was not the place to hunker down and try to settle in for the night. Pray for safety. 

She turned one more corner, just looking for a less menacing place, further from the bustle of the city, when she saw it flash across her path. A dark shadow. 

As she followed the dark blur with her eyes, it hopped atop a long wall. Then she recognized what it was. A little black cat with golden eyes, just like the one Hekateus had taken with him on their journey here. She cautiously approached the cat with a gentle “Pspsps,” and while clutching her babe with one arm she cautiously reached out her free hand.

The cat looked at her with curiosity, her tail high in the air. Penelope even heard it purr, but when she moved to touch the cat, it swatted her hand away with its paws. It was a halfhearted attempt, no claws were used, but she dropped her hand and let it be. She gently rocked her baby, now fussing again. He must be hungry. I’ve got to find somewhere to rest and try to get him to latch.

“You’re a very pretty cat,” she said, cooing on her son as much as the cat across from her. “I’m impressed by your lovely, sleek fur. You know, you remind me of a cat I met recently, with shining black fur and gorgeous gold eyes just like yours.”

The black cat redoubled its purring, and Penelope watched as its eyes slowly closed, a feeling of safety and calm hanging in the air.

“Mr-roww!” And the cat was off, now walking along the wall. 

“Huh…” She hesitated. 

Should I follow? I supposed there’s nothing else for me to do. Perhaps it's a sign from Hekate…

The cat called to her once more, much further down the wall. 

She followed along until, suddenly, the cat jumped down on the other side of the wall she’d been following. She stopped, confused, and looked around. Just ahead, she noticed an opening. A rather lovely archway, she realized, as she walked towards it.

Before her stood a secluded courtyard. Peering inside she could see it was filled with elegant statues and gorgeous trees of Yew and Cypress, among others. Surely she could find a safe place to rest within. 

Upon entering the naos, a sanctuary finally in her grasp, her baby boy quieted down. Peace washed over her weary bones, and she sighed with relief. This refuge made her feel safe in a way she hadn’t felt in some time. Upon inspection, the beautiful statues of maiden, mother, and crone along with the labyrinth in the center meant this place was dedicated to Hekate, the goddess of the crossroads: Her youngest—no, middle—son’s namesake. Hekate would protect them while they stayed here, of that she was sure.

Soft sunlight filtered through silver-leafed olive trees, old as the ancient goddess of magic herself, casting dappled shadows on the stone walls surrounding the courtyard. There was a serene atmosphere. It almost felt like home.

Placed at the feet of the various statues could be found offerings left by devotees, including flowers, herbs, ash where incense had been burned, recently by the lingering aromas in the air, as well as various tokens of gratitude, and even some parchments containing petitions. Moved by the muses, she felt compelled to rummage through her bag of belongings until she found it—her crossroads pendant. It was the only fine jewelry left from her wealthy days growing up, and it had been foolish to hold onto it all these years, but still, she knew she had to keep it. Until now. Here, in this place, she could feel it pulling towards Her. She looked up lovingly at the statue before her. Of course, it was Hers. It always has been. She gently placed it at Her feet along with the other offerings, a soft smile on her lips and a happy, suckling babe at her breast. 

Penelope spent some time walking the labyrinth within the courtyard, soaking in this serene environment, and inside she discovered a few adequate places for her and her baby to rest after the sun sets. She felt called to a particular secluded bench surrounded by shrubs, where she discovered a lovely spot behind said shrubs in the folds of a yew tree. She and her baby could nestle in and be completely hidden. If she was going to survive, for now she would have to be invisible. 

She meandered back to her favorite statue, a tall stone monolith of the goddess, proudly lifting a torch as she is so often portrayed, lighting the way through Hades. There, knelt in front of Her with her sweet baby at her breast, Penelope prayed to Hekate for protection both for her and for her children. She also prayed that should Her devotees of this place find her hiding, that they show her kindness rather than the cruelty life has dealt her. This place was nothing short of a miracle to her, and tears of gratitude flowed as her baby, who’d been struggling to latch, finally found purchase. Her nourishment flowed along with the tears now streaming down her face. She looked to Her visage, etched in stone, and felt in that moment Hekate was shining her torch just for her and her son, a beacon of hope and solace in these walls.

Together, they fell into a deep slumber.

Galanthis

After her ward’s mother, Penelope, got settled in with her newborn they fell fast asleep in the warm embrace of Hekate's naos. Galanthis caught a familiar scent as she felt the wind stir around her whiskers and then felt the utter stillness that followed, a sudden hush that fell over the world around them. It was time to meet in the center of the labyrinth.

She padded silently through the naos, her paws making no sound on the cool stone floor. Her Mistress was now waiting, and she didn’t enjoy waiting long. The familiar sight of an old woman, bent but standing firmly in the center of the labyrinth, came into view. All was silent, save for the soft breathing of Galanthis and the stirring tattered folds of the old woman’s garment.

As Galanthis approached, the old woman’s eyes glinted with a knowing light. The faint torchlight cast eerie shadows across her face as they flickered. The air was thick with the scent of incense and ancient stone, an aura of mystery surrounding them.

The old woman’s voice, though soft, carried an undeniable power. “Galanthis,” she began, her tone cryptic yet affectionate, “you have done well to bring Penelope and the child here. The threads of the Fates are weaving tightly around them, and I won’t allow that imbecile Dionysus to thwart my plans, regardless of their heritage. I’m the one who saw the potential in my namesake, not Him.”

Galanthis responded with a low, rumbling purr, her eyes reflecting the torchlight as she circled the old woman, rubbing against her legs.

Hekate continued, her gaze distant as if seeing far beyond the labyrinth walls. “Hekateus is a child of great promise. Unaware of his destiny, he walks a path that will lead him to glory, but also great peril. His family is his anchor, his reason to endure the trials ahead.”

The cat meowed softly, her ears twitching forward as if in agreement, her tail flicking with anticipation.

The old woman smiled faintly, a look of both pride and sadness crossing her features. “Penelope’s strength and perseverance will be tested. She must guide her sons through darkness, but she will not be alone. My watchful eye will be upon them, as will yours.”

Galanthis stretched out, her claws extending briefly before she settled at Hekate’s feet, her body a sleek shadow against the stone.

“Hekateus must be prepared,” Hekate continued, her voice growing more intense. “He will face many temptations and dangers in Athens. The city is a place of both enlightenment and deceit. He must learn to see through the illusions and remain true to his purpose.”

The cat’s eyes narrowed, a silent acknowledgment of the gravity of the situation. She purred softly, her body coiling with a readiness to act when necessary.

Hekate’s gaze softened as she looked down at Galanthis. “You, my faithful Galanthis, are more than a guardian. You are a guide, a protector. Stay close to them, my dear.” She reached down to give her a chin scratch, then added, “Whisper my will in their dreams and watch over their every step.”

Galanthis responded with a gentle nudge against Hekate’s leg, her purrs growing louder, a sign of her unwavering loyalty and understanding.

The old woman’s expression grew cryptic once more. “The time will come when Hekateus must choose his path. He will need your guidance then more than ever. Ensure he remains on the path we have set for him.”

With a final meow, Galanthis acknowledged her Mistress’s words. She turned and padded back through the labyrinth, her senses alert, ready to continue her silent vigil over Hekateus and his family. The sanctuary’s shadows embraced her, the weight of her divine duty heavy but dutifully carried.

As she slipped back into the sanctuary where Penelope and the newborn slept, Galanthis knew that the trials ahead would be many, but with Hekate’s guidance, she knew they would endure. She curled up beside them, one eye closing, her ears ever vigilant, claws at the ready to protect, and heart prepared to guide as her Mistress had commanded.

Penelope

She and her third son, her new gift from the gods, spent their first night together cocooned by the low branches of the Yew. In the morning she awoke to find her baby alive and warm, nestled between herself and the black cat, surely the same one from yesterday, curled up around him. Purring.

The cat hopped away when Penelope stirred, and with some care she was able to crawl out of the brush with her newborn and into the light of day. For that, she was grateful.

Her stomach grumbled angrily. Determined to make it through this day, she cautiously exited the naos and eventually found a busy enough street corner on which to beg. It was not an easy thing to contemplate, let alone lower oneself to actually do, but this was the reality of her situation, and she had to face it. 

She sat there for some time, two hours or more, but the cry of her newborn pulled her mind away from the lackluster alms and towards the needs of her son. He must be getting hungry, she thought. 

This shouldn’t have been a problem, as she’d had no issues feeding her first two boys, but for some reason, out here away from the naos her breasts were being stubborn. They were ever so tender and hurt to be touched, yet they seemed to produce very little for her boy. She could feel every crack in her sore nipples as he tried to suckle necessary sustenance, but she persisted in trying. He whined for more, but she had none to give him. Panic like hot coals burned through her as she realized she couldn't keep this up for long. She looked about, searching for someone, any face that would look her way. She had wanted to be invisible, but now it felt too real. Could anyone see her pain? Her frustration? Why do I feel so completely alone in this city so filled with people? 

She felt a pang of guilt, the kind that settled heavy in her chest like a stone, as she watched her newborn struggle. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. She had anticipated the gentle warmth of motherhood enveloping her again, the effortless bond of nourishing her child. But here she was, feeling alone and inadequate and lost in a sea of doubts.

The tears welled up in her eyes as she cradled her son close, trying to soothe both his cries and her own overwhelming emotions. She wondered if anyone else had ever felt this way, if anyone understood the silent agony of failing at something so fundamental, so primal.

A fleeting thought crossed her mind, a whisper of doubt that she quickly pushed away. She couldn't afford to doubt herself now, not when her baby needed her most. But the ache persisted, not just in her breasts but in her heart, a deep ache of longing for the ease and joy she had experienced with her older children.

As the minutes ticked by, she felt the weight of exhaustion settling in. She had been there for hours now, trying to coax her body into producing enough milk, but she needed nourishment herself, and these people didn’t even look her way. They just wouldn’t see her. In truth, she doubted many of them were better off than herself. She continued trying to ease her son's hunger and discomfort. She wanted to scream, to cry out for help, but the words stuck in her throat, trapped by the suffocating sense of failure.

In that moment of despair, she longed for someone to see beyond the facade she wore, to see the raw vulnerability beneath. She wanted someone to tell her that it was okay to struggle, that she wasn't alone on this journey of motherhood. But the bustle around her, voices everywhere, only echoed her own doubts and fears. Loud, impending in its looming, overwhelming nature, but impossible to reach.

With a heavy sigh, she wiped away her tears and focused on her son once more. She whispered words of love and reassurance, trying to convey all the strength and determination she could muster. She may feel invisible, but in her son's eyes, she was still everything.

Just then, her darting eyes found in the crowd just what she’d been hoping to see, even if she hadn’t allowed herself the thought. Ambrosios, her estranged brother, was making his way hurriedly through the bustling street before her, headed for the intersection at which she was sitting. She reached out to him when he approached, and he nearly backhanded her when he felt her hand on him–just a dirty peasant to him, she realized–groping for drachmae. But he held his hand when he saw her face, and the dismal desperation written all over her. His own face drained of all its color as he recognized her, leaving him pale and slack-jawed.

“Have you just seen Thanatos with a soul in tow?” Penelope attempted a jest, but Ambrosios didn't find it funny. 

“What in the worlds is happening here, dear sister?” He knelt beside her and put his forehead to hers, then said, “No, sweet sister. This will not do. Not for you. You are coming home with me, and I won’t have a single word otherwise. Is that clear?”

Penelope looked down at her baby, then back up at her brother, and all over again she burst into tears, wracked with loud sobs as she cried into her brother’s arms. He whisked her away straight to his home. She was so grateful for her answered prayers, and that she would be reunited with her dear Hekateus. The Fates had intervened on her behalf.