The Last Blue Sky

Today, the sky was blue and Hyacinthius was smiling.

              Thamyras was pleasantly surprised to see this. For years, Hyacinthius had snuck out to the   valley. He wasn’t supposed to leave the borders of the village now that he was ‘the chosen one’ and being trained to be the next shaman. But he still managed to slip away on occasion while those at the temple thought he was locked in his room to meditate.

For years, Hyacinthius would come out to the valley to watch the sheep with Thamyras, even as he was increasingly tormented with terrible headaches and reoccurring nightmares. For years, Thamyras had watched his best friend slowly drowning beneath the responsibilities and expectations of the village. Too often, he had held Hyacinthius as he cried. So, to see Hyacinthius smiling, Thamyras’ heart skipped a beat and he dared to imagine the world was righting itself at last.

              “You seem happy this morning, Hya,” Thamyras chirped.

              Hyacinthius nodded. “I had a dream.”

              Usually, Hyacinthius’ dreams were filled with metal horses, screams, and fire – nightmares which Shaman Appolleon pressed were the gods trying to speak to their chosen one. Around his eyes were always dark from lack of sleep. With his head clean-shaven, as a shaman’s always was, it made him look constantly ill. It was Thamyras’ opinion that the gods should be able to see that all their ‘messages’ were doing nothing but tormenting Hyacinthius.

              “I had a dream, not a nightmare,” Hyacinthius reiterated, as he took a seat on the grassy slope.

              “What sort of dream was it?” Thamyras asked, still skeptical of the light he saw in his friend’s eyes. They had become so painfully dim and distant over the past years, he didn’t think that this amount of joy was possible anymore, at least, not so suddenly.

              “I was on a hill that was covered in white lilies. An old man was there. He was wearing the robe of a shaman, but it wasn’t Appolleon. For a while, I just watched him wander around… not looking for something, but taking time to look at everything. In the dream, I knew where we were and what he was looking at. Finally he came to sit against this tree… and he was crying, but he wasn’t sad… watching him, I could feel just how deeply happy he was… just such an overwhelming feeling of relief and peace. I watched him cry like that for a long time, until he slumped back against the tree and I felt Soliel’s light fade from his body.”

              “Watching an old man die… that was your good dream?” Thamyras asked, concernedly. He saw tears in Hyacinthius’ eyes, so he scooted closer in order to rub his friend’s back.

              “I think this man is me… he was a shaman after all and even though in the dream I was watching him, I understood what he was feeling,” Hyacinthius breathed. “Maybe it sounds disturbing to watch yourself die, but it was so peaceful… after all the nightmares… after worrying about all the things that might go horribly wrong and not knowing how to stop it…”

              Hyacinthius wiped the tears from his cheeks. Thamyras paused the back rub to hug Hyacinthius to him.

              “I think the gods were just trying to show me that everything is going to be okay,” Hyacinthius choked.

              “You must be nervous,” Thamyras offered, gently. “Especially with your Ritual of Passage tomorrow.”

              “I was,” He agreed, and with a deep breath he managed to smile again. “But I’m feeling better… I don’t think the gods ever intended to present me with a burden I cannot handle. They warned me, to prepare me… But in the end, everything is going to be fine.”

              “In this ritual, you’re supposed to go to the top of the mountain to talk with the gods, right? Maybe you can finally ask them outright what they’re trying to accomplish with all of those nightmares and everything.” Thamyras meant this to be light-hearted, but he could feel Hyacinthius’ body tense beneath his arm as the smile melted away again.

              “It’s a little more complicated than that,” He muttered.

              “That’s right, we’ve had this conversation before. Can’t you tell me what is a little more complicated about it?”

              Hyacinthius nuzzled into his shoulder, as usual, refusing to engage him on the topic. “Remember that the gods live outside of time, so things that we feel like we endure for a long time, it’s just a little flicker to the gods.”

              “Then they should be more cautious about choosing to torment people,” Thamyras scoffed.

              “But they can see the way that everything is woven together, it only seems cruel to us because where we stand… where the flow of time feels so long… we can’t see the ways in which our own fates are significant.”

              Thamyras sighed, there was nothing he hated more than hearing Hyacinthius justifying his own suffering. But he felt cruel trying to argue against it, telling him he should be angrier or feel more miserable or at least admit that maybe what the gods and village wanted from him was an unfair burden.

              “I know, I know,” Hyacinthius said, as if reading his mind. “If the gods can tell me the purpose, I’ll be sure to share it with you. But right now, I only have a little time before Shaman Appolleon starts wondering where I am. Would you sing for me?”

              Thamyras planted a kiss on the top of Hyacinthius’ bald head. “Of course. I’ll start with your favorite.”

              He cleared his throat and began, “The same gods that made the stars and the sea, also chose to create both you and me…”

+ + +

              Today, the sky was clear, but gray as everything had become monochrome since the day Shaman Appolleon had carried Hyacinthius’ broken body back from the failed Ritual of Passage. Even with Soliel’s light gone, Thamyras had wanted to hold Hyacinthius and sing to him one final time. But the village wouldn’t allow him near the body. Even if some had suspicions, the village would never acknowledge that Thamyras was grieving for the one he loved.

              Thamyras knelt amongst the white lilies which now grew around Hyacinthius’ grave.

“…and the sea… also chose to create… both…” He tried to sing, but his voice kept cracking as his throat tightened and he fought to keep the tears at bay.

              “I’m sorry, Hya,” He sniffed. “One of these days I’ll be able to sing a song for you again without crying.”

              Hyacinthius’ place as ‘the chosen one’ had immediately been filled by his younger brother. He had managed to pass the Ritual of Passage, but his eyes had already become glazed and dim. Thamyras felt helpless, he could no more keep the boy from drowning than he had been able to save Hyacinthius.

              “I hope the gods have been kind to you… I hope, where you are now, you can see how your fate was significant… how it weaves into this great plan you always told me the gods have… because I can’t,” Thamyras croaked, for a moment he couldn’t speak as a strangled sob escaped his lungs. “I don’t understand why they would torment you and then take you away. I know you would tell me not to hate the gods, you would tell me that even this has some meaning… but I can’t see it, I can’t find it, Hya. I can’t help but think the gods have forsaken us… that maybe this is my fault… maybe they took you away, maybe they tormented you because… even though I knew it was wrong… I loved you.”

+ + +

              Thamyras tapped his cane against the familiar cobbled path. He could feel the heat of the sun on his back, so the sky might have been clear, but the world had been black since he had lost his eyesight years ago. Unable to care for the sheep or be of much use to anyone, he had never returned to the village. He still visited with Hyacinthius’ little brother on occasion. He was told the entire hillside of the graveyard was now covered in the white lilies they had planted at Hyacinthius’ grave. When he heard this, he remembered that dream that had made Hyacinthius so happy – the old man dying on the hill of white lilies.

              All these years later, as he reflected on his life, he finally accepted that maybe Hyacinthius had been right all along. Maybe the gods did have a plan and maybe humans were too overwhelmed by the experience of time to understand it. The metal horses and fire had come to the village, and his little brother had been able to save most from the calamity. But in the end had also exiled himself, not trusting himself as shaman and unable to face the death and damage he had failed to prevent. For years, Thamyras had listened to the boy’s struggles as he watched over their village from the shadows – too dutiful to leave it behind and yet too ridden with self-loathing to be a part of the community any longer.

Thamyras had again lamented the gods for tormenting people, especially the ones touted as being ‘chosen’. But now he could finally see the way that all the pieces were beginning to fall into place. Hyacinthius’ place in life had never been to be the protector of the village, or to be ruthlessly tormented before having his life taken as punishment. The gods had tried to show him what he would miss by leaving, what his people and especially his little brother would face after he left. But, as the horrible nightmares had become reality, Thamyras had to believe that his last dream would as well, that Hyacinthius’ brother would find that overwhelming sense joy and peace at the end of his life.

Hyacinthius’ life hadn’t been a waste nor a punishment, because the life that he lived affected the choices of everyone who had known him. His life held meaning in the way that it would ripple through lives and across time as actions and decisions built upon each other. He could see now that although the nightmares and the headaches had seemed so cruel, it had driven Hyacinthius into his arms despite knowing their love for each other was taboo. His life may have been crueler without that torment, without needing the songs and love to solace him - he really may have drowned in his position as the chosen one, too revered as a religious artifact to be allowed any meaningful relationship but not desperate enough or aware enough that it was slowly killing him in time to seek escape from it.

Although completely blind, Thamyras smiled affectionately up at the sky; he was sure that Hyacinthius could see him from the next realm. In accepting this intricately woven fate, he was also finally able to forgive himself. In all his life, he had never loved anyone but Hyacinthius. For most of his life he had hated that fact, tortured himself over having held onto something so taboo as though, if he had rejected those feelings, it would have somehow saved Hyacinthius.

But if the gods didn’t make mistakes, if all of this was a part of their plan, then their love was also a carefully woven part of fate. Knowing that, Thamyras was certain Hyacinthius was waiting for him so they could cross the gates to the next life together, as the gods permitted for all who loved each other.

The fragrance of flowers wafted upon Thamyras, and he was almost certain it was scent of lilies. Knowing that Hyacinthius was listening, Thamyras began to sing.

“The same gods that made the stars and the sea

Also chose to create both you and me…”