Divinity Absconding

Author’s note:

If you enjoyed my short story, Wives from Among Women, I believe you’ll like this one too! We’re heading back to Ancient Greece, where Cy must choose tradition, or lose any potential inheritance from his devout father. This story explores the themes of tradition, divinity and the true meaning of home.

Cy stumbled through the dense throng of celebrants, who filled his family’s streets with cheers and shouts and abrasive smells that the freedmen were often shrouded in. He ducked into the temple and clutched his tunic tighter against the crowd, a thick wall of wine vapors washing over him. The celebrants had found their way, even here, and were pouring libations among themselves while huddled around the pooled torch lights.

A cup was offered by a generous hand but he refused, slipping into the open courtyard of the Acropolis, where the celebrations had not yet penetrated.

Cy could breathe better here, under the rich spring foliage.

He looked up at the stars, wondering. Even his father was adamant the gods existed. How could he not be? Proud Apollo stood watch at their gates, his cold marble eyes threatening to pierce the passerby with deadly arrows.

When the celebrations commenced come morning, the city would be calm again.

But not for Cy. He had to decide, and soon.

He pivoted on his sandals in a slow rotation, studying each face of the pantheon in turn. Twelve stared down at him, and if he squinted just so, he could trick himself into thinking the marble flesh might move. Zeus, Poseidon, Hera, Demeter, Dionysus, and the rest stood vigil over him. Beautiful Aphrodite held his attention the longest. He wondered what it would be like to commit to her, and laughed aloud.

She was beautiful, yes. And extraordinarily petty.

The quandary left him ill. He tore his gaze from the statues to pace through the abandoned hall of Hephaistos. Beyond the pillars was the forest in which he intended to make his escape. He’d have to decide but not tonight.

Cy shook his head. Certainly not tonight.

The dark woods welcomed him, the canopy not thick enough to block out moon’s light. Here, he could almost imagine the gods existed, so far removed from the cool marble enclosures.

There were no demanding priests pressuring him to accept a patron god. Many chose to commit themselves to none but not the sons of the Athens. It was expected, in the quiet tradition, and if he couldn’t choose, he would be cast out by his twentieth birthday, stripped of all claim to his inheritance and any titles that it implied.

Cy would become little more than a freedman.

A fresh wind swept through his tunic from the north, chilling him to the bone. Surely, it was a simple thing, to choose the ease of his life over the struggles of the lower class. It’s not as if the gods existed. So, he didn’t understand why he hesitated.

The leaves rustled around him. A breeze tugged on his cloak.

Frisson passed over him, sending his hair on end with the excitement. The air seemed charged for a storm, and it made Cy feel truly alive.

And then the lights came, pale blue specs dancing aimlessly around him.

He didn’t have time to marvel when he saw her, dashing through the trees which yielded in silent devotion. She was massively tall, nearly twice his height, and entirely nude. Her skin made the soft lights flare when they came near her and he could feel the weight of her sobs in his own chest.

She paid him no mind at all, passing within a handspan.

Cy could not keep his eyes off her as she flitted into the darkness, hands concealing her face as she wept. Her long dark tresses cut through the night behind her. His nose burned like he’d come too close to flames, and he wavered on his feet. Very soon, she was out of sight, a trail of confused illumination drifting in her wake, and where she had stepped, grape leaves sprouted.

He realized he’d forgotten to breathe.

There were no words to contain his awe.

Was she a spirit? A nymph? He’d never heard of a nymph so large. A titan, perhaps? But most of their lot was ensnared, if the literature held any truth.

Cy followed the impressive path she’d left behind. Even as the lights dimmed, he found it effortless to follow the new growth. He wasn’t sure what he’d find, at the end of it but his curiosity left all else behind.

Over hillocks and under fallen trees did he navigate, his decorated sandals not up for the task. He considered tearing them off when he found her, quite asleep, and quite normally sized, in a bed of freshly sprouted grape leaves.

She could have passed as mortal but he was not deceived.

He recognized the soft curves of her hips and the gentle slope of her shoulders. It was the very same woman who had taken his breath away. He had never met a goddess before but had the sense that if the gods did exist, she must be one of them.

But her countenance, when he approached to study it, was not familiar.

She had donned a precious pout before curling into the growth, a slender arm thrown over her eyes as if the world offended her. Her breasts, he tried not to stare too long at but he had caught the supple shape of her, and knew this was a goddess he could pledge himself to.

How to go about it, though?

Cy reeled with the possibilities, falling upon the most rational. He tore free his cloak and approached as one would a wild animal, fully alert. It helped that the lights had abated, and she appeared, for all intents and purposes, mortal.

At any moment, she could rise and smite him. He was certain of it.

But her breathing was slow and even, and if she did feel the coarse fabric of his cloak against her flesh, she did not show it. Her grief must have been great for her to slumber so deeply. And Cy watched her lids flutter as stone could not.

This was real.

Not the sacrifices by knife and fire, not the chaste words of the priests, not the quiet statues in the Acropolis, staring with unseeing eyes.

This.

Though the night was growing colder, so far from the lively city streets, he folded his legs underneath himself and waited for her to rouse. He’d be an incredible fool to leave her alone. What if stray partygoers ambled through the woods and found her? Could she defend herself in such a state? It didn’t seem so. Cy considered that he might be presuming too much, and she knew all the things that transpired around her.

When she began to rouse, he could sense it before she ever moved. The very air could sense it too, because the little dancing lights returned to hover around her, formless blue wisps that gravitated to her great presence. This time, when her lids fluttered, they opened to wide and apprehensive golden eyes. Her lips quivered as if she were a mute on the verge of speech.

Cy shied from her scrutiny, hands open to show he meant to harm. “You are safe.”

Tears sprang to her eyes and she sat up, the cloak falling around her waist. She had no sense of modesty at all, it seemed, but she clenched the hem with restless fingers. “You are a mortal.”

He issued a little smile. “I suppose I am. My name is Cy. What is yours?”

“Teletê,” she said without hesitation, pressing the tears away with the heel of her palm. “Are these your woods?”

His smile grew. “No. Not mine.

“Not anyone’s but the gods.”

When he said the word ‘gods’, she flinched.

Cy was afraid that he might have offended her, and he picked his next words with care. “I- found you naked in the woods and couldn’t leave you so. I thought you might want to be warm.”

She glanced down at the wine dark cloak, still fussing with the hem. “Thank you for this.”

“Do you need help?” Cy asked, wanting to draw closer to her radiance. He stopped short. “You were running from something, weren’t you?”

When her eyes turned up to him again, they were heavy with misery. She bit her trembling lip before throwing herself against him, linking her slender arms around his neck. Stunned, Cy merely held her in return, marveling at the velvet flesh of her back.

She buried her face in his shoulder like a child, afraid. “I can’t go back- I can’t-”

“You don’t have to,” he said with a laugh, the closeness bringing him nearer to bliss than any embrace before. “You can stay with me, if you want.” What was he saying? “I can protect you.”

Something in her form stiffened, and she pulled back to look at him. Her expression was open, that sorrow only accentuating her charming features. “You will?”

He nodded without thinking. “My father will surely help-”

“No,” she said straightaway. “It is terrible enough that you have seen me. I cannot allow another mortal to lay witness, nor can the accursed sun lay its rays on me, or my cousin will surely-” She stopped herself, going all but blank. “No mortals, I beg you.”

Cy did not know what it meant to give a goddess his word but he did not hesitate. “I will keep you safe, Teletê. From man and the sun and the stars, if you require it.” He dared capture her cheek with a cautious hand. “I will keep you safe.”

For the first time, a smile graced her features, and he felt his whole world shift. She stroked his bottom lip, alighting something magnificent inside of him. “Thank you, Cy.”

 

*

 

Cy did well to sober his expression.

He had little trouble carrying her through the woods, her form solid and airy all at once, impossibly weightless yet still tangible and real. They were headed towards one of his father’s properties that had been recently vacated. It would be the perfect place to keep her hidden.

Her voice was a gentle thing when she whispered, “You are not pledged.”

Cy did all he could not to stumble. “I am not.”

“Perhaps,” she said slowly, guiltily, “that is why you are so willing to aid me. If you only knew…”

He observed her with new eyes. She was still as radiant as the moment he first laid eyes on her. “I cannot imagine you would do anything so terrible that I would not wish to aid you.”

Her smile held no enthusiasm.

“Are you cold,” he asked, shifting so the cloak covered her bare shoulder. “Do you feel the chill?”

“I do but I am not wanting,” she said in turn, sighing against him. Her fingers traced the strong ridges of his knuckles. “It has been a long day.”

Cy kept a distant focus on his feet but it felt as if the whole world was in his arms, and little was left for the journey. He did not want to urge her to speak if she were not willing, so he remained silent in the cacophony of night creatures. Where they touched, she filled him with warmth that manifested into desire.

He pushed it deep down so it would not leak into his actions.

Cy wouldn’t dare to become one of the unfortunate mortals of the stories. No good came from falling in love with the divine. That much, he knew.

“Am I keeping you from your family, Cy?”

His name on her lips was a pleasure. “They will not miss me, tonight.”

“Tomorrow, though, they will.” She said it as a matter of fact, her handsome brow furrowing. “And the day after and the day after that and, oh, you must not squander your time with me!” Teletê’s gaze scoured his face. “You are so young.”

“And you are not?” His lips turned up. “We will see what the future holds but tonight, I will make good on my promise. Do not take that from me, beautiful Teletê.”

She observed him with more wisdom than her face or form let on. “It never ends well.”

With that, his joy evaporated. “No, it doesn’t seem to.”

She gave a little ‘hmph’ and settled against him. After a time, she spoke again. “You are so kind, fair Cy. It is only fair that you receive an explanation.”

Cy remained silent.

She continued as if she already had his permission. “I was made to usher followers to my father’s worship, and nothing else. I didn’t even choose to be born the way some gods are.”

It surprised him. “You can choose to be born?”

“Not me,” she said, pouting. “My mother didn’t choose me, either. She was asleep when my father came to her, and when she woke, she was pregnant. But she was only a nymph, and no one can deny a god when they desire someone. That is the trouble of it all.

“We can not truly know love without devotion.”

Cy thought on it. “It must be an incredibly lonely affair.”

She only shrugged.

The trees broke to reveal a modest dwelling of wood and stone on an untilled field. The lamps inside were dark, the home appearing hollow. When they entered, a fine layer of dust had already accumulated on vases and decorations the previous tenant had not taken with them.

He let her down on the tile, fighting his instincts to keep her close. “We should not expect visitors for some time.” He searched the space for flint and tinder, finding what he needed to start a fire in the hearth. “Do you hunger?”

Teletê drifted through the old building, her midnight hair sweeping the floor behind her, though it caught no dust. She fell languorously into a low divan, watching his movements in a muted fashion. “You’ve not studied under the priests, have you?”

“I’m afraid I haven’t,” he said, striking the white stone against an iron poker. The sudden ignition bloomed into a searing warmth before settling to something tame.

“That is why you have not chosen a deity?”

“No.” He lingered on the thought, sifting the firestuffs until they burned on their own. Cy still couldn’t look at her, afraid of her sensuous draw. “Believe me, I would have been done with it years ago. It is in my best interest to choose one, and promptly.” He paused, battling that unwelcome fear, regrettably frozen with his gaze cast to the floor. “None of the gods ever called to me the way the priests described.

“They said I would know it when I cast my gaze upon their visage.”

Cy’s cheeks burned, realizing it had happened in those quiet woods, not an hour past. But this Teletê was entirely unknown to him.

“Look upon me, then, and tell me you feel nothing,” she said, rising from the divan.

Cy took a breath, then set his gaze on the cloak fallen around her feet. His mouth went dry as he panned up, over her perfect calves, and then stopped at her dimpled knees. “I am frightened.”

She drifted towards him, barely touching the floor. A hand rested upon his head, sending warmth like melted wax down his spine. “You were not afraid in those woods. Do not be now, for I need a friend, this night.”

Her words made him nearly prostrate himself at her feet.

And, as he feared, when he looked up into her golden eyes, he lost a little more resolve. “Beautiful Teletê,” he couldn’t help but say. “Whatever you wish, it’s yours.”

There was a sadness in her expression, and her internal light dimmed slightly. “There is the devotion I spoke of. Who are you, Cy, when divinity’s grip is gone?” She knelt and captured his face as if he were a delicate thing, blinding him with dreadful pleasure. Her lips closed in, hesitating in that brief space before contact. “You have so much love to give, and yet you horde it all to yourself. I can feel it aching to be released.”

Cy was too frightened to close the distance but every fiber of his being demanded it. He didn’t know when but he’d caught her slender shoulders, an unforgivable offense to her delicate form. When a sliver of resolve returned, he took himself back. “The gods, they would-”

Lights bloomed in his sight when she captured his mouth with hers, her willowy strength overcoming him until his back was to the floor. His breath mingled with a goddess’, and he tasted the divine. Teletê’s light soaked into his flesh as she hovered over him, weightless.

She caught his jaw, her touch as gentle as her visage. “Do not fear their wrath, Cy of Athens, and be mine this night.”

Cy, summoned as he was, kissed her palm in reverence.

Her delicate fingers pushed his tunic open and chased fire to his core. Their eyes were locked together, redwood and gold. Their lips met again, and he inhaled her next breath, tasting life, itself. Somehow, he was naked beneath her, with her silk form sliding up his leg.

He was already hard, like the creature he was.

But she didn’t seem to mind. In fact, when she surged against him, she crooned at his length and beamed up at him. Her form was an untamed thing, the weight of her drifting in their shared fervor, her hair suspended as if in water.

Her perfect heels linked around his knees as she thrust against him, the tip of him pressing against the heat of her core. That, alone, could break a man. He clenched as if to urge himself inside her and her soft laugh flitted against his ear. “Patience, my love.”

My love.

How it set him to tremble. If she were not a goddess, he might have lost himself already in the throes of passion. As it were, he was at her mercy. The thought spurred his heart to race, and his hot lips found her cool ones once more.

Her kisses trailed to the stone at his neck, then down, to the hollow of his throat. He arched, realizing he no longer felt the floor beneath him. He did not sense the fire’s heat, either, only her ethereal warmth.

Teletê traced the lines of his chest, over his tight stomach and the crest of his hips, marveling at him with her golden gaze. How could she adore him this way when she was, in contrast, flawless?

That’s when the pressure of her became greater. Her heat melted over him, tightening around his girth so that his whole body became rigid in expectation. She must have seen the fright in his gaze, allaying it with a gentle laugh. She caught his rough hands and fitted them over her breasts, the pristine nipples already hard like a human’s. Like his.

“Do you not want this?”

His lips were parched again, without the softness of her lips, and he nodded feverishly. “I do.”

She teased, sliding further onto him before withdrawing slightly, the absence of pressure nearly making him weep. “Show me.”

Purpose flared and he barreled in with her permission. She arched with a jubilant cry, closing the distance between their hips. Anchored to her, Cy picked up pace to an even rhythm.

He swirled her pearled nipple around his tongue as he thrust.

Teletê kissed the top of his head in reverence, waking him to the miracle of her existence. He glanced up and pressed his lips to her soft neck, reaching her end before withdrawing. She was so tight, it made his toes curl and his breath ragged.

She laughed again, a bright, tinkling sound that was cut off by a sweet gasp.

This Teletê might be a goddess but Cy found himself reveling in the knowledge that he could still mold her to him. And how malleable she was, locked against him, urging him deeper, harder, until even she was breathless.

They spun in a slow rotation.

Sometimes she was beneath, other times, she rode him with the greatest fervor, neither losing pace in the open air. He dipped his head to her shoulder and let his lips linger in the hollow. Her wandering hands tightened around his thighs as if she was ready for him.

And his body responded in kind, as devoted as he.

Ecstasy tightened his core, causing him to shiver before releasing himself inside her. Cy went blind, again, tasting her soft skin. Her mewl was sweet in his ear as she clenched around him, taking all of him in before he softened.

They drifted for a long while after they’d finished, still fastened at the hips. His skin cooled and she rested her head against his chest, a smile playing about her soft mouth.

When his eyes cleared, he realized they were floating several hand-spans off the floor. Vertigo gripped him, and if it weren’t for her, he’d have fallen to the tiles. This Teletê was a marvel in and of herself, and he had barely begun to discover her.

Cy threw his head back in delight, clutching the sleeping goddess closer to his open heart.

 

*

 

Teletê skirted the cast rays of sun on tip-toes when she set to wander the house. Cy lay spent on the divan well into the afternoon, wishing he’d brought food, though he only craved the mouthfeel. In her presence, he wanted for nothing, not even water.

When she was near, he could not take his gaze off her. When she was gone, he wondered if she were only a dream, and he’d wake in his residence, still undecided.

“Will it harm you?” he asked her of the sun.

She danced well clear of the sun-soaked tiles. “Of course not. At least, not directly,” she said, her midnight hair twirling around her form as she spun back to Cy, leaning breathlessly into him. “My cousin sees all things in its light, and he will tell my father where to find me. I’m certain of it.”

Cy ran his fingers through her roots, awestruck again at her beauty. “Then we will wait for night.”

Her lips turned up. “Selene will not betray us.”

 

*

 

Cy didn’t count the days they spent in the abandoned house, making love when the sun rose and exploring further every evening. Afterward, they would lay in the grass together before dawn, speaking of inconsequential things.

Rarely, did the beautiful Teletê divulge of her life in Olympus, dismissing inquiries with a laugh or distraction. There was no reason for Cy to trouble himself over it. The gods were an overinflated lot anyhow, she assured him.

“And besides-” Her fingers traced the strong line of his neck as she nestled against his naked form. “-it’s not as if I intend to return.”

Cy marveled over her alabaster flesh, though trouble didn’t sit far below the surface. “At least we’ve had no visits from- your family.”

“Not that we are aware of.” Her brow crumpled as she glanced out across the field. “You never know with them, or how they’ll come to you. Sometimes, it’s through the hand of a stranger. Others- might become bothersome little gnats to spy! I saw a doe in the field yesterday morning, watching the house with marked interest. How can we be sure it was not Artemis, at the behest of my father?”

“Who is your father?” Cy might have guessed but he wanted to hear it from her. “You’ve never said.”

Her lips pursed, and then her eyes went dark, like they did when she was thinking up a distraction for him. She settled on a sigh and her gaze scoured his face. “What does it matter?”

Cy laughed before he could master himself. “I only wish to know how I’ll die. Will it be from lightning? Or drowning? A deadly arrow, perhaps?”

She watched his mouth move. “So, this is what mortals busy their minds with.”

“I don’t know about the others,” he said, brushing his lips against hers. “But when I find myself enchanted by a runaway goddess, I do have to wonder. And as you said, it never ends well.”

Teletê hoisted herself atop him. “Fair enough.” Her warm breath passed over the cleft of his chest before she kissed it. Sweet distractions. “Enough about them. Make love to me again. We still have time before Helios begins his journey across the sky.”

Cy received the sensuous Teletê, obeying her every whim.

 

*

 

The wisps danced around Teletê as she flitted through the trees. Cy was hard-pressed to keep up with her inexhaustible endurance but he followed. He would not lose her, this goddess absconded from Olympus, who made love to mortal men.

That thought sat poorly in his gut.

Were there others? Did he have the authority to ask?

He, himself, had known other women. But they were not goddesses. He feared the stunning Teletê would grow bored of his mortal being as the gods were known to do. Perhaps, she was searching for another to take his place. To better protect her.

But when her eyes met his, and undiluted joy broke over her features, he knew peace.

She caught his hand and dragged him along, even as he was out of breath. “Come, we don’t have all night! I want to visit the grotto before sunrise.”

“The grotto?”

“Yes, it is supposed to be a wondrous place.” Teletê’s strength flooded into him, and the trek became tolerable. “I have heard the nymphs whisper of its beauty.”

His voice grew cautionary, like his father’s when Cy dared speak over him. “What will you do, Teletê, when you find this grotto?”

“Why, make love to you, of course.” Golden eyes flitted back to appraise him. “Eat the grapes that grow from the vines. Summon the satyrs to play their melodies. Dance until the moon sets and make love again, for good measure.”

Cy managed to smother a grin. “Surely, that’s not all there is to life as a goddess.”

“If there is any more, I want none of it,” she said matter-of-factly, that shapely mouth turning down as she tugged him along. “Work is for mortals, I say.”

A grin stretched his cheeks. “I will be sure to remember that.”

The woods grew thicker around them. Truly, no mortal had ever set foot here besides himself. If Cy were to find his way back, he couldn’t use the stars, concealed behind the heavy canopy. Only Teletê’s light guided him through the shadows. Her hand slipped from his as they progressed, and she led ahead, her perfect sight clear on the path.

Without her strength, Cy faltered.

Teletê didn’t seem to notice, pressing ahead, and soon, she had vanished from sight. The silence was heavy around him, thick with that midnight magic, where all things were possible. He didn’t want to speak too loudly but had no other recourse. “Teletê.

“You have left me behind. Where are you?”

Foreboding washed over him, but soon he caught the glimmer of her light again, and pursued.

“Thank the gods,” he began, pushing vines aside. “I nearly-”

They opened to a sunny clearing, not night at all. There were creatures so bizarre, small and large, flying and hooved, he couldn’t begin to classify them. Some laid wide-pupiled eyes on him, others flitted by, ignoring his presence. But they all gravitated around an unavoidable figure in the center, waited on by adoring creatures and dressed in the finest blood-red robes.

Soft golden eyes fell upon him. A thick hand summoned, while another stroked the tips of an impressive pale beard. “Cy,” said the man, his voice deep and resonating. “I have been waiting for you to visit me.”

Cy stared in awe, his vision filled with the breadth of the god’s form.

He knelt immediately on the moss.

“Away with the formalities,” the god said on a laugh. “Such grimness has no place in my grove.”

He dared look up, his skin growing chill. “Lyaios.”

“Dionysus will do.” There was an effort to his rise, and several fawn assisted him with strained calves and flicking ears. But when he was upright, he seemed steady. “You met my daughter, Teletê.”

Cy’s face flushed, recalling more than just their introduction. “I did not know-”

“You knew she was a goddess.” The great god had no trouble in the lines of his wide face, only mirth. “A minor one, with at least a single divine parent. She is mine, and truly, the most wayward of the lot. How do you fancy her?”

He reddened further. “She is- incredible. Beautiful beyond words.”

Dionysus gave a stiff nod, then stroked his beard again. “As are all my children.” Cy believed him earnest until a jovial grin came over him. Then, he opened his arms wide. “Ah, leave the caution behind. You are welcome here, Cy of Athens.

“I have a task that needs doing, and only you can mete it out.”

 

*

 

Hours seemed to pass in this warm, bright place as they spoke.

“Do you remember the freedman in the temple who offered you wine?” asked Dionysus, the sound of his voice leaving no room for Cy’s answer. He filled a horn with deep red liquid. “That was me, and I find it quite rude for a mortal to refuse my offer.

“Though, this time, I don’t think you will.”

The god offered Cy the horn, which he accepted. “I meant no disrespect.”

“No, certainly not.” A pretty fawn draped against Dionysus’ wide form, and he accepted her closeness with a friendly squeeze. “Drink, my boy, and be merry.”

Cy took an eager drought, a familiar warmth spreading over his tongue. “I cannot, when I worry that Teletê is alone in those woods. I promised I would protect her.”

“And you will,” he said in turn, twin trails of red leaking down his pristine beard when he drank. A satyr rectified the spill with haste. Dionysus had not a care in the world, his magnetism so great, even Cy became entranced. “Teletê is young. She does not know that by attempting to evade her duty, she has, in fact, fulfilled it.

“Or else, why are you here?”

Cy blinked in surprise.

The god’s rosy lips turned up. “You cannot witness a god if you are not a believer, and when this tale is through, your family will rejoice at the return of their son, who has chosen his patron deity.”

“Forgive my candor,” Cy said with caution. “But I do not wish to return home. I know…” He slowed and considered his words, though his tongue raced on. “I am only a mortal with no business in your affairs. Or hers. But I feel as if she is not through with me. Oh,” he said, throwing his head in a hand. “What would the priests say to all this?”

There was a false sternness in Dionysus’ brow that dissipated before it solidified. “The priests, he says! What do they do but riddle and gripe? By whose authority are they holding their stations? I will give you some advice.” He leaned in intimately, his inebriate breath washing over Cy and making him drunker. “Avoid the quibbling priests. They only muddy our messages, take your money, and keep the best wines for themselves.”

Cy laughed at this. His own father’s hair would go white at the audacity.

But he sobered too soon. Perhaps, his thoughts were outside this timeless grove, where the very air threatened to drug him into an apathetic stupor. “I must go back to her. Once more, at least. If you do not want me to mingle with her, I understand but I must see Teletê one last time.”

Confusion broke over Dionysus’ generous countenance. “I did not summon you here to drive you from her. Quite the opposite.”

A dryad, her leafy flesh transparent against the grove, took Cy’s horn with whispering cold fingers. He did not fight it. “I don’t understand.”

“She trusts you, dear boy.” He laid a heavy hand on his shoulder. His grip was powerful, flaming a strange resolve in his chest. “She listens to you, where she battles me at every opportunity. You are her first success, and there will be many more like you, drawn into our service.” He seemed to notice Cy’s deep dismay. “She has a great purpose, mortal, and you are but a branch on a tree. You cannot know what the heartwood murmurs.”

Shame coursed through him, the wine in his blood doing little to dull the rejection. “I am no one.”

Dionysus scoffed. “A tree cannot survive without its leaves.

“You will bring the sun into her and nourish her. She will grow stronger because of your devotion, and become all that she is meant to be. Without you, she could fade into nothing at all.” Dionysus stroked the cheek of his beloved fawn. “Less than nothing.”

“I do not want that for her,” Cy said, desperation leaking into his next words. “What can I do, Dionysus? I would keep her alive with my own breath if you asked.”

“How romantic.” The god settled against his mossy throne with a crooked smile. “Things are not so dire as all that. But she cannot run from her destiny. If she does, she will fade, and I worry for her as any parent would.”

“What would you have me do?” Cy asked again.

“Love her.” Dionysus’ expression was uncharacteristically grim. “Show her what devotion–true devotion–feels like. When her heart opens to yours, she will finally understand the importance of her work.”

A tremulous breath escaped him. “She will leave.”

“Distance is a mortal phenomenon.”

Cy screwed his lips shut in consternation.

“She will not forget you so easily, boy. That, I can guarantee.” Dionysus sighed, rising again with the help of his creatures, ushering Cy to do the same. “It is time you got to the task. I cannot hold Chronos’ will back for much longer, or we may get a visit from below.”

A thick arm was thrown over his shoulders and he was led from the grove.

The god’s next words weighed like stones on his soul. “You have my blessing, mortal.”

When he was released into the darkness of the forest, Cy pivoted on his heel. “But how do I-”

The grove was gone, and with it, the god and all his devoted followers. A wind swept through the clattering branches above. But the exhaustion that gripped him in their trek had evaporated, and his eyesight was heightened to the wisps so dim, they would have evaded him before.

The deeper he went, the closer he got to her. He could sense it.

“Cy,” Teletê’s bright, sweet voice called out. “Where are you, my love?”

He’d nearly forgotten Dionysus’ instruction in that moment, stumbling after her glow. When he cleared the thickest of it, she ducked out from around a tree, her golden eyes full of relief.

“I thought I’d lost you!”

Cy smiled, taking her outstretched hand. “You could never lose me,” he said, troubling himself over her inevitable departure. It will be I who loses you.

She folded her arms around him without a care, nuzzling against him. “Only a little further now, and we’ll have the whole evening to ourselves.”

“We must not forget the satyrs.”

“Of course,” she said on a simper, closing in for a kiss. “Music is an imperative.”

Cy softened to her advance, inhaling the gentle scent of her skin. But as their lips closed in, she froze, going rigid before withdrawing. A shadow came over her. “You have met with my father.”

He licked his lips to explain. “No- Teletê… I mean, I did but-”

Teletê tore from his arms as if he’d stung her, shaking her head. “I should have known,” she said, her eyes filling with tears. “You are a traitor like all the rest!”

Cy’s chest ached to watch her scramble from his presence, dashing off into the darkness. “Teletê!” he cried as he pursued, I am not like them. He could taste her on the air, the lights fading in her wake. If she grew to her full size, he’d never keep up.

His heart broke upon hearing her distant sobs.

“Dionysus, give me strength,” he said under his breath, calling with all his being to find Teletê and assure her he only meant to keep her safe. To love her.

The trees shuddered around him and parted, folding open to reveal a narrow path, and a light beyond. Teletê’s light. Could she be so near?

Cy pushed hard in pursuit, throwing himself into a charming midnight grotto. The moonlight flooded the soft grass under a waterfall, where a goddess lay curled up, weeping. She’d grabbed fistfuls of her tangled dark hair with her face to the ground, trembling.

He was frightened to see her this vulnerable again.

Cy fell to his knees and crawled to her. “Teletê. Teletê. I’ve never felt a love so powerful. You must believe me, Teletê.”

Her body jolted with a sob, and she shook her head as if to bury it in the ground. “You do not know what the word means, you horrible little mortal!”

“How can you say such a thing?” He drew closer, near enough to touch, his heart splitting wide open. “Since the first moment I saw you, I could think of nothing and no one else.”

“That is devotion! You cannot help it.”

“It is more than that,” he said, mourning her tangled tresses and her shivering form. “You are the most magnificent creature I have ever laid eyes on. Ask me to tear out my wretched heart and I’d do it. For if you are without, I have no need of it.”

Her sobbing stilled but she did not look at him.

“Open your heart to mine, Teletê, and you’ll know it’s true.” Cy dared sweep a hand down her back, closing over her, clutching her tightly. His lips were to her ear. “Do not close yourself off to me. Yes, I spoke with your father. How could I defy him? But I was only thinking of you.”

She shifted beneath him slightly. “What did he tell you?”

“He said- that without my love for you, you could fade into nothing.”

There was a great sigh in her form, then she shot him an accusing glance, her cheeks wet with tears.

“He said also that you will be loved by many more like me.” Cy swallowed down the pain as he stroked her. “That I am just the first branch of a great tree that will nourish you.

“If that is all I am, I accept it.”

Teletê scrubbed her eyes before rising. He yielded to her, still stroking her low back. Another sigh escaped her as she stared at her hands. “I do not want to be a scion of my father. I have already driven you to his worship. I could taste his wine on your lips.”

“I do not love him like I love you,” he said in turn.

“You called his name, rather than mine.”

“Because when I called your name, beautiful Teletê, you fled.” His laugh was soft and airy. “You can call it devotion but I’ve never known a love so great as what I feel for you.”

She finally looked up at him without the veil of distrust, despair seeping in to her precious features. Cy fell over himself to gather her up, pressing her tightly against his chest. Could she feel it, that well overflowing inside him?

Teletê caught his shoulders, pressing her miserable face into his chest. Then, something changed. He felt it bloom in every facet of his being, soak into his fingers and toes and the root of each hair. His body sang in time with her vibration.

Her skin was glowing, and so was his.

The little motes danced merrily around them as they clasped each other, heart-to-heart. The grotto came to life around them with mythical creatures.

He kissed her tears away, cherishing her sweet face.

When her eyes opened, they were brighter than the sun, though they did not blind him. A small smile broke over her features. “You do love me.”

“I have said as much.” Cy’s face was wet with his own tears. “How could I not?”

Her lips trembled and opened as if the words evaded her.

Cy didn’t hesitate to claim her mouth, showing her just how deeply she’d changed him. Some distant melody began, softly, at first, then rising with the celebration. Many eyes were watching. Let them witness how he loved his Goddess.

Teletê surged in his arms until she was seated atop him and captured his face. Her malleable form pressed against his as he gathered her closer. Their passion overflowed, blinding him again. But he knew her, without having to see, their fingers intertwined. There could be no better fit.

Cy kissed the soft underside of her jaw, tasting her moan.

Sweet lips found his ear. “Thank you, Cy.”

He thumbed her throat, losing himself in that velvet flesh. “Thank you, Teletê, for falling into my life.” He kissed it, then the crook of her shoulder. “I was lost before you.”

Her dark hair veiled them both but her eyes were full of adoration.

They inhaled each other and exhaled each other. Their flesh collided in this perfect union, and he found himself already inside her.

All that I am is yours, he thought, letting her shape his very essence.

He didn’t know if he was Cy, any longer, in the grip of the Goddess Teletê. They floated somewhere between the earth and the sky, tethered by her will, alone. Her nails raked over his glowing flesh, leaving lines of glorious fire as he pushed to her end.

She missed a breath, those perfect teeth nipping his flesh. They yielded before doing any harm, kissing the spot as a jubilant laugh grew in her chest. He couldn’t help but join her, losing track of his body until they could have been two spots of light, conjoined.

In the luminance, he became.

What he became, he didn’t quite know. But he was no longer just a mortal. His soul had come out from the dark recesses of his being and had grown to an enormous size. Their every touch created, their every caress brought life.

Cy felt himself fan out to receive her divine light. He could be this for all time. Teletê sensed him, he knew, and basked in his offering. When she touched him again, electricity bloomed. When they collided again, sparks burst.

She grew brighter in his arms, so distant from his focus, and he knew she was near her end. Sadness crept in. Not for her but for himself. This union had to end, and when it did, Teletê’s work was complete, at least with Cy.