Atryx and the Friar

He flung himself to the ground in a way that seemed to disregard his health and bones. His body trembling, I saw tears darken the dirt underneath his bowed bald head.

"Friar." I nudged his shoulder with my sandaled foot. "Friar, get up."

The man remained a shuddering heap on the ground. What a wreck, I thought to myself. I moved closer and placed a hand on his shiny head. As I did, he let out an exultant sob and clutched the hem of my robe tightly, his knuckles whitening on the cream-colored fabric.

Finally, he stood, though he refused still to meet his eyes with mine. "The Friar gives thanks," he whispered, his chin wobbling as he attempted to keep a flood of tears from spilling down his brown tunic. "The Friar gives so many thanks."

I sighed. All I had done was save his life. I guess for a friar scared sheet-white about the afterlife, that was rather important. Little did he know that the afterlife was nothing that he thought it was. There was no judgment day, no pure and mighty God on a throne, ready to cast a shivering soul into the depths of fire or the idyllic daydreams of Heaven. There was my uncle, Hades, who didn't even like to sit properly on his throne even though Persephone always chastised him for putting his legs up over the side. Not that the friar knew.

I began walking toward the harbor where I had intended to go originally before the friar's fear had created such a stench I was obliged to follow it into the woods. With a little puff, the friar gathered his robe and scurried up next to me, trying his best to keep up. He was an average-sized man, but shaped oddly, like Zeus had given him the shoulders of a man twice as large and the feet of a man twice as small. The friar no longer stunk of fear, of which I was glad. Fear always created such a horrible sensation in my nose: this off-putting mix of musty mushrooms and rancid milk. An acute fear of death also usually had a bit of a spicy smell and made me sneeze.

The friar continued to bow towards me. "The Friar gives so many thanks. But, to whom?" the friar prompted. I sighed. It was always difficult explaining exactly who I was. Though I was immediate family to all the Olympians, I had never belonged there. I had never wanted to be there, to get caught in all of Zeus's infidelity and Hera's drama, to play games with the mortals on Earth and their tragic heroes. I was, by blood, probably very entitled to power. Artemis and Apollo were triplets and I was the third. Atryx. Deity of emotion and perception, a tricky power to play with but ultimately an extremely dangerous one. I gave the Friar the same response I gave anybody who asked. "Ah, just a stranger passing through." I tried to plaster a comforting smile on my face.

The friar clearly still believed he was in the presence of someone godly. I took a deep breath in, trying not to roll my eyes. If he started spouting off lists of minor gods in the attempt at identifying me, he would be just like any other. Instead, he didn't. I could tell by the way his mouth slightly parted that he wanted to, but he refrained. Well, really there were so many signs. The way his eyebrows moved up a few millimeters, the way his jaw tensed almost imperceptibly, the way his shoulder blades started to draw together... Everyone was so easy to read once you knew the body's way of communicating emotion.

"The Friar thanks you for your answer." he bobbed his head, as if trying to convince himself he had gotten any answer at all. I gave him a curt nod and kept walking briskly to the harbor. The man still kept up. After a few moments of silence, the friar spoke again. "Is there any way the friar can thank you for your gracious deed?" I looked at him. "All I did was stop your fall into a not-so-deep well. You probably would have been found in a few hours at nightfall or in a few days at the most." I told him matter-of-factly. The friar waved his hand as if dismissing my assessment of the dangerous situation. In my opinion, it had certainly not merited the sobbing ritual of thanks he had given me earlier. "The friar gives so many thanks to you, stranger." I was starting to think 'the friar gives thanks' was the only phrase this man knew.

We had reached the harbor finally, and I started to bid the man farewell. "No," the friar said, interrupting my cheerful "Well, I'll see you on your way then!" with a forceful and emphatic "I pledge myself to you, stranger. A life for a life!" I sighed. This had happened before. Although, last time it had a been a tad more merited. I'd rescued a young maiden from the claws of a large man-eating bear somewhere near Thebes and she'd dramatically announced her design to remain my lifelong servant in return. Of course, she had no idea I was immortal, and that had screwed quite a bit with remaining my lifelong servant. Eventually, I convinced her that I would only accept that she spend five years at my side before wandering off to do whatever she wanted to do. It had been quite an enjoyable few years, but I'd felt destined to be alone and made it a self-fulfilling prophecy. Anyway, I found the friar's promise to be quite ridiculous.

"My good friar," I said, clapping him on the back, "this is no way to repay me for my kindness. Instead, find yourself an adventure and you will satisfy this stranger here." I gave an encouraging nod to the friar and began walking away to my boat. I grimaced as I heard the friar's footsteps behind me. It wasn't as though I didn't care for the friar at all. I could tell by the way his cheeks and edges of his eyes were formed that he was indeed a kind and loving person. He just wasn't the company I wanted. What I was looking for was a powerful witch to teach me some sorcery. A few extra skills never hurt a god, did they? I figured I would sail around to find Calypso or Circe and see what they would help me with. Either way, the journey was no place for a friar who had drenched the air with fear after only just falling backward into a well. As the friar passed me

(unfinished)