Plight Of Olympus

THREE: WEIRD WEATHER (II).

After Helen ordered milkshakes for both of us, and we sat comfortably in one of the empty booths, I started repeating my dream to her.

  “It was really eerie and weird. I saw a huge black owl, and the creature looked almost human… kind of, in some way. It gave me human vibes, anyway and it kept staring at me, its head rotating…”

“Was it good looking?” Helen interrupted me, jokingly.

    “Be serious Helen. The thing actually spoke to me. The words were quite incomprehensible, but it kept repeating ‘come to me, come to me’. And when the image faded away, I saw a girl. Her eyes were blazing pits of fire, and she was motioning me with her hands to come. It was like she wanted to say something to me, but her lips were sealed shut.” I explained, and she listened to me carefully.

   After a few moments of thought, she looked up at me. “In the ancient arts, a black owl signified a bad omen… and only witches beckoned people in dreams.”

 I stared at her in disbelief, before sighing. “Helen, this isn’t a joke. I wasn’t able to sleep yesterday after I had this… nightmare. If you’re trying to scare me further, please stop. It won’t work.” I pleaded, letting my voice drop down to quiet tone for more effect. Helen sometimes just couldn’t take a hint. Right now, my eyes were sunken and I was in a bad shape. I already hadn’t caught up with missed slumber due to my late night shifts before the earthquake happened.

   The raven haired girl took a deep breath and studied me for a moment.

  “Calista, I swear on my dead mother’s grave, I’m not lying, or trying to scare you. I've been researching more on the ancient arts and I stumbled upon something. I think you need to see it for yourself.” She explained seriously.

My hands suddenly felt clammy and sweaty. For the whole years I had known Helen, her mother’s death was a sensitive topic which she never wanted to address. But she had sworn on her grave right now just to make me believe what she said.

   What did she want me to see?

  The air around her had changed and turned somewhat mysterious. There was worry, and something else which I couldn’t understand written all over her face. She seemed tensed.

  “What is it that you wanted me to see?” I managed out, and her shoulders relaxed, which made me more uneasy.

  What is so important that she didn’t want me to brush off?

     We silently walked together as she led me to our town’s old library that was always open. I had wondered most times why the place was never really closed. Even when it was hours past midnight, you’d find its flickering lights still on. Helen had been silent for the whole trek.

After a few knocks on the door, it swung ajar and an old man’s face, along with the glorious smell of books greeted us. He briefly glanced at me before his eyes shifted and focused on Helen. His face lit up like a Christmas tree.

   “Helena! How are you?” he asked, as he ushered us in.

“I’m alright uncle Ed.” she replied.

   “This is my friend, Calista.” she introduced with a smile before she stole away deeper into the huge library. I had figured out that what she wanted to show me was a book. Else, why would she bring me to this timeworn library?

The old man beamed as he shook my hand. “Calista, you have a very unique name. It reminds me of my wife, Medea. She was named after a goddess. The most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Oh, how I miss you my dear…” he explained in a shaky voice, and seemed to be lost in memories of the past.

    Before I could say anything, Helen appeared out of one of the shelves holding a gigantic book; it looked old, and beaten down with time.

   “We’ll be on our way now, Uncle Ed. I’ll return the book tomorrow. Tell Raven I said hi when she comes.” Helen conveyed, as she held my hand, gliding towards the door. I heard the old man hum a response before she closed the door.

   We sat on the cobblestones near the library and she navigated the book to a particular page. “Take a look at this...” she breathed out, giving me the book.

“Oh, my, God…”

*****     *****     *****

     *****     *****

When the close blood is shed,

In her dreams will she see her;

The midnight owl,

And the eyes of fire.

One event that will alter history,

Five of them will journey.

To destroy the mother-killer,

And restore peace to Olympus.

     My eyes went wide as I stared at the picture attached to the words. It was a very old painting, and you had to look closer to see. But I could clearly recognize the face anywhere. Why wouldn’t I? She was me.

    “I've been trying to ignore the feeling in my gut, but when you told me about your dream, I had to show you. The prophecy speaks of a midnight owl, and eyes of fire… isn’t that a reference to your dream? And the woman in the painting looks exactly like you…” Helen, who was sitting beside me, theorized. My eyes kept staring at the picture for a very long time.

And then I laughed.

This all had to be a joke. Maybe Helen quickly told Torren about my dream somehow, and he wrote down the words, fixing along a painting of me. I couldn’t explain how ancient the whole book and painting was, but Helen must have pulled off this joke somehow.

I turned to see her looking at me quizzically. I laughed even harder. She is such a good actress.

“Okay, Helen. You really got me there. Prophecy? Really? Who did you asked to write it? Torren? Or was it Uncle Ed?” I cackled.

“This isn’t a joke!” she defended, her voice shrill and angry.

   “Yeah, well you can tell whoever played this trick with you that I’m done. This is a very good painting, but the prophecy sucks. Goodbye Helen.” I retorted, and bounced off the cobblestones, stomping away.

  “I swore on my deceased mother!” she screamed, also getting up. But I ignored her and increased my pace, heading home.