Diantha

Did he miss on purpose? Or was my pointing off in such a way that he could take advantage of it? The questions kept on flooding my brain as I placed the cocoon in my bedroom. Cradling it in my arms I let it rest on my bed. It would be our bed.

The thing you need to know about tricking a god into granting your wish is that they will grit their teeth, dig their heels in, and find the worst possible way to interpret your wish. Eros must have missed on purpose. I have never wanted to harm a baby more than I did now, despite the fact that the baby was an immortal god.

I tucked the cocoon into my bed. It was the size of a toddler now, much bigger than it was this morning. The thought of punching that smug face did cross my mind but it would be futile. If I spent my whole life stewing and scheming, I could hope to shave a minor inconvenience out of Eros’ days. But that would be as futile as the punch to the face and perhaps less viscerally satisfying. Besides, I had someone special to take care of now.

I lay down in the bed beside the cocoon and allowed the event of the morning to replay in my head.

The tale of how Elias Chasm obtained an immutable favor from the god Eros is a great tale but not one to relive now. I think now of this morning on the day I had told him to meet me at the park. She was there: Elle-? Elai-?; the woman who was my former soon-to-be companion. I cannot even remember her name. I greeted Eros with a banal greeting which I enjoyed immensely. My favor was worded without flaws in my own mind as I drafted and rehearsed it. I knew the wily tricks of the gods, but I could not guess as to their depths. On that sunny hill as the former light of my life walked among the laurel trees, I pointed her out, fixing her as the target of Eros’ dart. “Her, the woman at who I point is your target. The victim of your dart- and I-” (here I remembered his lead darts which he could prick me with) “we shall fall unfailingly and endlessly in love, passion, romance, desire. You shall not miss your target”

YOU shall not miss your target. You SHALL not miss your target. You shall NOT miss your target. You shall not MISS your target. You shall not miss YOUR target. You shall not miss your TARGET. Was one of these words the trigger for Eros’ wiggle room?

Whatever his rationale, he had the last laugh. The golden arrow went past the head of my intended target.

“You missed! I clearly commanded you not to miss and you missed! It sailed right by her head, you didn’t hit El-, Et- Er-”

“I didn’t hit who?” Eros asked. The grin on his face was as golden as his arrow. Laughter pealed out as he continued “Walk with me. We shall find the object of your new affections.” I stumbled and walked as though in a dream. “My golden arrows’ spell is so strong an affection that all other longing can be erased. Were it my desire my targets would gaze on a lovely face while flames licked their body. You did request to be under a spell of ‘love, passion, romance, desire.’ Here we are.”

I looked at the surroundings that had been behind my former beloved’s head. A tree. A rock. Some bushes. “What trick is this? I see no one! Is there a spy hidden in the bush? Should I prepare to wed a rock? Speak! I beg you! What have you done to me?”

I looked at him and saw a silent smirk and a pointing arm. I followed arm, hand, and finger to the rock and saw the golden arrow. It was lodged inside the rock (rock lady Beryl was already taking shape in my mind) when I noticed a black speck on the arrowhead. I wiped it off the dart and examined the smear on my fingertip.

“What does this mean?” I turned to angrily round on the god, but he was gone. I tried to shake the dead ant off my finger with a shake. I examined my fingertip to ensure all the mess was off me. The black spot was no longer black and no longer a spot. It was slightly bigger, longer than it was wide, and it appeared white and fuzzy. If I didn’t know any better (and I was ready to claim that I knew nothing) I would have called it a cocoon.

I had to ensure the safety of this cocoon. I started back towards my house with the cocoon already double its previous size. Soon it would be so large that I would be carrying it in my arms.

I drifted off to sleep remembering walking in the door, placing the cocoon on my bed, and getting under the covers.

During sleep our brains process everything that has happened to us, creating dreams. I dreamt of the cocoon hatching; of the emotions I would have and the different ways it could happen. I woke up to a slender arm on my chest. It was connected to an arm connected to the body of a woman lying in the remains of a cocoon. It felt like we had been living together for twenty years.

I know how many guys would talk about waking up in bed to some unknown broad. This is not that and I will not talk about her like that. Let me not bury the lede: some things I will share and some things I will not. It may not make good reading, but I am just sharing my story, my facts, my truth; I’m not here to entertain you. I asked her name, and she replied that her name is Diantha. I do not know if that is an ant name (if they have individual names) or was given to her by Eros. She didn’t have any horns, or antennae, or mandibles (I was dreading mandibles). The only out of place feature was her eyes. Her pupils were darker than any other I could recall; mine were shoddily lit tunnels in comparison. And her pupils took up most of her eye with only a thin, iridescent iris. I tried to write down more of her physical features, but I can’t get it to come out right. Diantha is beautiful, simply put.

Soon after I decided to take Diantha out on our first date. I felt a wave of relief wash over me as I realized I wasn’t taking this woman on a date to pursue her and convince her to stay with me. I was taking my partner on a date so we could spend time together. Diantha had many questions as we walked to a cozy restaurant I frequented.

“Elias, you said we are walking to go get food?”

“Yes, but not really. We are going on a date and eating food will be part of the date”

“Whose pheromone trail are we following?”

“Nobod- well, I guess mine although there aren’t any actual pheromones.”

“Another ‘yes but not really answer’ from you Elias. You say that a lot.”

Watching what I said in this new context was a challenge. “I suppose it comes from years of seeking acceptance in public school. Every sentence had to be either a witticism or a criticism.”

“That makes you sound really mean.”

“Absolutely. I would have been horrible to someone like you who was just acclimating to our culture. In fact, I was horrible, and I deeply regret it. That attitude always hangs around me, sometimes I reach out for it instinctively, but it always led me the wrong way.”

“Instinctively? That means something like the pheromone trails from my old life, right? I cannot imagine surviving with my lifeline leading me astray”

“Well said Di.”

Diantha loved the restaurant. I wondered if that was part of Eros’ spell. My mind wandered briefly back to Eros. He had told me how his victims could be so consumed with his spells that they would pay no attention to flames destroying their bodies. I spent all my mental energy thinking of my beloved Diantha. Being tormented by my punishment never crossed my mind. I wondered if Eros was consumed by burning fire. I wonder if he took any satisfaction in his harmless revenge. Or perhaps I was most miserable of all men. I did not know. I did not feel the need to figure it out. I had a wife and a life to attend to.