Page 8 of Orpheus
A young boy there was with no sound dream.
He stared every night at the moon’s gleam.
Thoughts of success, thoughts of fame,
Thoughts of wealth, nothing that would shame.
A Prince of Thrace held in the highest regard
Meant to be a warrior, not a bard.
But he longed for music, poetry and art,
Never a sword, for that was never in his heart.
But this boy held on to faith and to hope,
With the support from his aunts, and his mother, Calliope.
He knew he was destined for greatness, such greatness to achieve.
And he would easily get there, as long as he believed.
I repeated the verses two more times after the first, adding more depth and volume to each chord, until the song ended with such an intricate blast of style and rave. My aulos practically screeched at the very end with how long I held the final note for. Once my performance had ended, I emerged myself from my temporary trance and glanced over my muses and the rest of my audience, bowing to them.
Graciously, they all stood and cheered, calling my name for such a profound song I had played. It was more than I had anticipated. But I overlooked the clapping and the chants, hoping to see Apollo somewhere out there. Much to my dismay, he was nowhere to be found. Doubt sank into my head, wondering if something came up and he had to miss this glorious performance of mine that I had put my blood, sweat, and tears into.
As the standing ovation died down and everyone returned to taking their seats, that was my cue to exit the platform and return to the tent where I waited earlier, before stepping out to showcase my music.
My mother came up from behind me, squeezing my shoulders delicately. “A marvelous performance, my son. You should have heard the gossip and whispers in the crowd. Everyone was asking for your name and who you were. They were beyond impressed. Even Apollo too.”
“Apollo!? Apollo was there? Where was he? I looked everywhere and could not seem to find him.”
“He remained hidden from the audience, not wanting to steal the spotlight away from you. But he spoke with me just before I came over here to search for you. He requests a private audience with you when you have a moment,” my mother revealed.
I was beside myself. Panic creeped up my spine and overtook my entire body. “He really wants to speak to me alone?” I asked, needing further confirmation of this, since I could not believe this was actually happening.
“Yes, Orpheus. And you should meet with him sooner rather than later. It is not wise to keep a god waiting. Patience is not their strong suit.”
“Well, where is he? Where am I to go to find him?” I inquired.
My mother reached for my hand, holding it firmly. “Come. I will take you to him. But remember all that we discussed about Apollo. And above all else, just remember to be yourself. He will enjoy you all the more. You already put on a phenomenal performance for him. No need to change your attitude and personality in order to put on another performance. He will adore you just the way you are.”
Chapter 4
My mother pointed ahead to one of the tallest hills on the Parnassus Mountains at Delphi. I squinted my eyes to barely see a white marble edifice that stood out upon it. “That’s Apollo’s Temple. He will meet you there,” she informed me. “Oh. And please refrain from discussing our conversation in the carriage last night. Thalia was completely out of line, but she was also not her normal self throughout the trip. If Apollo were to learn of her insults towards him, he may take it out on our entire family. Do you understand?”
I firmly nodded. “Yes, mother. I promise I will never bring it up to Apollo or anyone else.”
She patted me on the back. “Good. Now run along. Don’t keep him waiting.”
I turned to give her a hug. “Wish me luck,” I replied before running ahead of her, ascending the slope.
“Oh, and Orpheus!” she called out to me. “Do not forget who you are. You are the son of a king and a muse. Make sure you hold that confidence.”
Her words rang in my ears as I continued pressing on towards Apollo’s Temple. This was it. The moment was finally arriving and I could not contain myself. My heart was performing backflips in my chest. My feet felt light as if I was gliding on air instead of this luscious grass beneath me.
Entering the temple, I was surprised to see that all the vastly different sized candles and torches were ablaze, yet there was no trace of anyone’s presence besides me. I knew these grounds were sacred, and only a handful of people were allowed to walk them regularly. In this sanctuary of Apollo’s, I expected to see at least some priestess or oracle, or even a temple servant, but there was no one.
