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[#3WR3NGEL8]

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The Amaranth Series — is a series I made that narrates the life of an immortal woman. The concept of eternal life has always intrigued me so, at a very young age, I was able to write my first story ever... One. Ironically, it is the ending of this series. Enjoy.

List of stories in the Amaranth Series:
—Apathy
—The Harlot Queen
—One

13-Aug-2011 14:28:31 - Last edited on 14-Aug-2011 03:19:52 by [#3WR3NGEL8]

[#3WR3NGEL8]

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Apathy

1180 B.C.
Ancient Greece

Hebe stood straight and still, with her long brown hair combed and loosely pinned back, and her hands hanging at her sides, as she attentively listened to Mother’s lecture of good and evil, of redemption and eternal punishment. She was six then and did not understand most of it, but in the later years she would come to know the words, concepts, and bleak truths by heart.

“Humanity is a wretched lot and utterly insignificant to the gods' magnificent life. We are innately evil and have no right to exist in their world. The only way to salvation is selfless sacrifice, yet many of our fellowmen desire to be rich and, instead of putting their efforts to the betterment of mankind, use what they have to achieve what they want. Our doctors, soldiers and researchers say they do it for the citizens of Corinth, but why are they enjoying the spoils of their work when there are people out there starving? The hypocrisy of it all! I don’t understand why such evil persons get to be respected when there are none to the unfortunate. You must learn, Hebe, that the only way to prove your value, to achieve eternal bliss in the afterlife, is helping others not yourself.”

Hebe volunteered the very next day to distribute bread to the needy, because she wanted to impress Mother—and the gods, of course. Her mother made her wear a freshly washed dress, not as a gift for at last doing good, but to make her uncomfortable. So, carrying a big basket full of bread, Hebe was sent into the destitute parts of the city and began handing out the loaves. Most took it without a smile or any cordial response, but at least there were a few who sincerely thanked her. She meticulously avoided the decrepit buildings and dark alleyways filled with mounds of offal. Mother said that it was where unfortunate thieves lived, and many a woman who went near to those places regretted it because they were full of themselves.

13-Aug-2011 14:28:33 - Last edited on 14-Aug-2011 03:20:16 by [#3WR3NGEL8]

[#3WR3NGEL8]

Posts: 1,412 Mithril Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

Continuation:

Mother said that Hebe would serve the needs of those poor men someday, when she was old and dedicated enough. As she walked down the street with a big smile on her face, Hebe encountered a gaggle of filthy women and children. For some reason, they began quarreling over who will get the basket.

Hebe humbly spoke up. “Excuse me, I’m giving these for everyo—“

A squat woman with gapped teeth slapped her hard. Hebe gasped as she crashed to heaps of refuse and, unable to bear the now close stench any longer, retched into the oily water running down the road. She was dimly aware of the filthy fingers probing her body for coins as she lifted herself up on trembling arms. Some of the children kicked her—for fun. Some became practical and took her shoes, the frills of her dress and even her silver armbands. It was only when they were gone that Hebe found the strength to stand up. Panting, and with tears stinging her eyes, Hebe walked towards home. Her knees were bleeding. Her tattered dress was splattered with abominable filths.

When she returned home, sobbing, Mother smiled wistfully. “Their plight brings me into tears, too.”

Hebe shook her head, telling Mother what they did to her. “T-they were m-mean to me, Mother…v-very, very mean.”

Mother smacked her mouth. Stopped cold, Hebe could only stare up in terror. “Don’t you dare judge them! How can you be so evil at such a young age, Hebe?”

“One of them slapped me, Mother! All of them touched me—“

Mother smacked her a second time, tears now streaming down her face. “How dare you judge them for their actions! You don’t know what life has burdened those women! Perhaps they have sick husbands back at their homes. Here they see a spoiled brat, and they finally can not stand it. You cheated them out of the fine things of life! Your duty as an evil person is to give what they can’t earn, since only you can earn it! You are rich, and they are poor! Can you not see the disparity!"

13-Aug-2011 14:28:35 - Last edited on 14-Aug-2011 03:20:31 by [#3WR3NGEL8]

[#3WR3NGEL8]

Posts: 1,412 Mithril Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

Continuation:

Hebe never complained again.

Hebe never really thought they were rich. Father, a handsome figure with a proud bearing, was a merchant who often traveled for months to distant places and returned with little or no profit at all. Sometimes, Father would return home with several stashes of gold coins and the finest dolls and dresses for Hebe. During those moments, Mother would be angry at Father and berate him for spoiling their child and not helping the needy. Father would let out a weary sigh and said in a firm voice, “Selfless sacrifice is the obscene act of utter slavery.”

Mother would gape at him and call him a cruel demon.

“It’s cruel to say that I would not willingly sacrifice my earnings to those thugs I meet in my journey? It’s cruel to say that I won’t surrender my life to some smirking wretches who lust to possess the unearned, even at the cost of their victims’ blood?”

Mother‘s face would be red in cold fury and she would slap him. “Self-sacrifice is the only way to grasp Zeus' hand.”

Father’s mouth would close, as if he mightily resisted the urge to continue the argument. Without a word he would escort Hebe to her room and would narrate his journeys. Hebe would only half-listen, because she would be so enthralled by his marvelous blue eyes. They were her eyes—at least they had been for two decades.

One day, when Hebe was eleven and just finished her duty in teaching the poor about the wickedness of the wheel of mankind, she came home to find a woman who looked to be in her forties with Mother in the sitting room. There was something about her proud demeanor that made Hebe miss half a step as she approached. Both women rose to their feet as Hebe straightened her hair and dress.

“Hebe, this is Mistress Circe. Surely you have heard of her.”

Of course, Hebe had. Mistress Circe was said to be the most powerful sorceress ever to walk the lands of Greece, a mysterious figure of another mysterious legend.

13-Aug-2011 14:30:31 - Last edited on 14-Aug-2011 03:20:43 by [#3WR3NGEL8]

[#3WR3NGEL8]

Posts: 1,412 Mithril Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

Continuation:

She had brought cities down with withering plagues, her neighbors would say, and cure the worst of all illnesses. She was said to be three centuries old. With her rather prominent nose and steady, calculating gaze, she seemed to be a woman who used a wide variety of whips to teach children. But she didn't look that old and feeble. However, looking up at the stranger’s dark eyes—oh, those flatly glimmering river-stones worn out by ages past—that met hers, Hebe knew without a doubt that the rumors were true.

“Was it a long journey, Mistress Circe,” Hebe asked after she curtsied deferentially, “from your island, Aeaea?”

“Two weeks is it all,” Circe replied. A warm smile spread across her face, completely masking the chilling aura the woman emanated. It was a somewhat disorienting transformation, making her look like two different persons sharing one face. Or, Hebe thought in the deepest recesses of her mind, a person with two faces. When her eyes caught the empty basket of bread she carried, the smile turned into a pleasant grin. “My, such good works for a child to handle. If you can handle those kinds of things, then I’m now quite sure that you must be offered a higher calling.”

“Alright. I’ll wake up earlier tomorrow morning. I’m sorry, Mistress Circe. I must go now," Hebe sighed. “There are people out there who need my help.”

Mistress Circe smiled in a long-suffering manner. “What I meant by a higher calling, Hebe, is that I would bring you to Aeaea. There you can continue your duty, and even learn the ways of medicine.”

Hebe panicked. She wasn’t ready. She forced back the tears. “I can’t leave, Mistress Circe. There are a lot of people who need me.” For some reason, she needed to stay, to see her father’s blue eyes. She was being silly and selfish, she knew, but she needed Father.

At the exact same instant, Father entered the room. He froze, his blue eyes taking in Mistress Circe. “What’s this?”

13-Aug-2011 14:30:33 - Last edited on 14-Aug-2011 03:20:58 by [#3WR3NGEL8]

[#3WR3NGEL8]

Posts: 1,412 Mithril Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

Continuation:

“Mistress Circe, here, would be taking our daughter to her home in Aeaea so she would be her apprenti—“

“No!" Father reached out for Hebe’s outstretched hands. “She’s my daughter!”

Mother intercepted him as Mistress Circe snatched Hebe’s arm so she couldn’t escape. Mother said through gritted teeth, “Nicholas, when our marriage was arranged, you promised me I would handle the child’s life as I saw it fit. I believe this is the right thing to do, what the Fates want. Under Mistress Circe’s instructions, Hebe would learn medicine and use that knowledge to help people. I trust your word in this, so don’t disappoint me.”

Mother somehow held Father back, despite her frail frame. At last, Father stopped and let his hands drop to his sides. His head bent down, he walked slowly out of the room and, before he closed the door, looked at Hebe in the eyes. Those blue eyes lost the spark of...something that had so riveted Hebe. It was as if he wanted to tell her thing, but it was gone and he no longer had the strength to regain his proud bearing.

Mistress Circe said it was best if they would leave at once, and if Hebe did*’t see her father right now. She promised that, if Hebe followed her instructions, became settled with her profession as an apprentice, and did her duty to the good people living in Aeaea, she would see him again.

Hebe learned everything there was supposed to learn. She memorized every esoteric incantation and the rarest of herbs that gave her temporary gifts, such as the ability to talk and mesmerize animals to do her bidding. She mastered the ways of medicine, curing many a sick child in the village near the mansion in which she lived. Whenever she did her moral duty, serving others, she never complained. She felt nothing at all, just the forlorn emptiness that began to eat away her humanity. In short, she did everything expected of her. Her life under the tutelage of Mistress Circe was numbingly selfless.

Although she never

13-Aug-2011 14:30:33 - Last edited on 14-Aug-2011 03:21:14 by [#3WR3NGEL8]

[#3WR3NGEL8]

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Continuation:

dared to ask, she always wondered what the disturbing rituals they performed yearly was all about. In every ceremony, disembodied voices would fill her head to the point that she doubted they would be gone the next day. Mistress Circe would sigh in a relieved sort of way, as if she was glad that she lived through the ordeal. It was as if the healer expected her to die.

Mistress Circe forgot her promise. She wasn’t pleased to be reminded of it, and so found more work for Hebe to do. Mistress made sure she had no time for indulgences such as going home for a visit. Eight years after being taken away to the splendor of Mistress Circe’s home, still an apprentice, Hebe saw her father again.

It was at his funeral.

Mother had sent a letter for Hebe. It said that Father was dying. Hebe and Mistress Circe rushed home, hoping they would be able to use their talents to cure him and reverse his journey towards death. By the time they arrived, Father was already dead for an hour. Mother admitted that for several weeks he had been begging her to bring his daughter back. Mother said she put if off her mind, thinking he would get better. Besides, Hebe had important things to do that were meant not to be disturbed especially by this trivial issue. She said he had been asking for one thing: to see Hebe. Mother thought it was ridiculous, since Father was an evil person and did*’t care for anyone but himself. Mother said it was right for him to die alone, while Hebe was out there helping the needy.

Hebe was eighteen then and considered by many as the most beautiful woman one could ever lay eyes upon, so Mother made her wear an extravagant, brightly colored dress. It wasn’t a sad occasion, after all. An evil person died, so what was the purpose of mourning? Mother asked innocently.

Hebe stood near Father’s corpse for a long time. Her chance to see his blue, blue eyes was forever gone. For the first time in eight years, she felt pain reach down to the cold,

13-Aug-2011 14:30:35 - Last edited on 14-Aug-2011 03:21:26 by [#3WR3NGEL8]

[#3WR3NGEL8]

Posts: 1,412 Mithril Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

Continuation:

dead thing that was her life. It made her feel something, human perhaps. It felt good to feel something again, even if it was pain.

Hebe returned to Aeaea two days after Father’s burial. She continued to do well, but she was no longer sure if she would have her reward in the afterlife because she felt no inspiration or sincerity. Still, she continued.

It was when she was twenty-two did she discover the reason behind the ceremonies. Mistress Circe, looking the same as she was eight years ago, died. Ever since the last rite, Hebe never grew a day older. She did not complain. Her life was merely a stepping stone of Mistress Circe to end her agony of a life. Ever since that day, Hebe’s blue eyes became a blanched blue with violet flecks, like sapphires washed-out by the endless currents of both waters and time.

Hebe remained on the island, incessantly in the streets, handing out the stored riches she’d inherited from her predecessor. Mother wrote her joyful letters, telling how much she’d done after Father’s death. Hebe would reply in kind, but Mother would always say in her next letter that she did not do enough. Mother told her that the duke gave her awards and medals for her selfless works. Mother admonished her for not putting all her efforts, and that she surely would go to the darkest depths of the underworld should she fail to change. So Hebe doubled her efforts.

Seventeen years later, Mother died. When she reached Corinth, Hebe went straight to the oligarch's official tailor and uncomplicatedly told him that she wanted the finest black dress he had ever made in his entire life. He gave her the price. Hebe said that she didn't have the money, since she’d given them all, but she needed it anyway. The tailor, a man with cracked lips, unusually sharp teeth, welts all over his face, and a lewd smirk enduringly fixed across his face, said that he needed things, too.

13-Aug-2011 14:33:33 - Last edited on 14-Aug-2011 03:21:38 by [#3WR3NGEL8]

[#3WR3NGEL8]

Posts: 1,412 Mithril Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

Continuation:

He leaned closer, lightly resting one of his wrinkled hands on her shoulder, and whispered that if she took care of his needs, he would take care of hers.

Hebe wore the grandest black dress to her mother’s funeral.

Mother had been a woman who devoted all her life serving others’ needs. Hebe could never match the virtue Mother unfailingly had. Unlike Father, Mother deserved to have her daughter mourn for her death. Yet, for some reason, she felt no longing, no pain reaching down to the empty core inside her. Hebe was aware that she was an evil person.

Hebe wore only black dresses from that day on.

Because she realized then that she simply no longer cared.

End of Apathy

13-Aug-2011 14:33:35 - Last edited on 14-Aug-2011 03:21:59 by [#3WR3NGEL8]

[#3WR3NGEL8]

Posts: 1,412 Mithril Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

Extra Notes: The values instilled into her by her mother have made her an uncaring person to the point that she gave up her purity for a woman she never loved. Just telling it if it isn't obvious.

This is also my entry to the Emotion Anthology.

13-Aug-2011 14:33:35 - Last edited on 14-Aug-2011 03:22:21 by [#3WR3NGEL8]

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