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Today marks the 97th summer solstice since the abductions began. While 96 winter solstices have passed.
No one knows why the maidens are taken by Apollo. But once selected, they are never seen again. Then at the next solstice, another maiden is stolen from our world.
Another maiden who isn’t able to live out her natural life.
Yet another horror inflicted by the damned Olympians.
The taking of our women is a reminder of those savage gods who treat us mortals as pawns in their game.
A soft breeze pulls me from my dark thoughts. As though the natural world is giving me a reminder to live in the now and the present.
After all, our lives can be cut short at any time. Living in fear of the unknown is a great waste of a precious life.
Around me, I take in the summer woods.
The forest has become a labyrinth of brush, flowers, and knotty roots. Taking our time at each patch, we harvest mint and pink cyclamen for Agatha’s shop. Agatha has always been kind to our family and would offer us extraordinary prices for the herbs Dad and I collect. Medicinal herbs aren't easy to find so we often get paid well for our efforts.
But even then, we were often paid too well.
I think Agatha takes pity on us though we aren't in a place to call her out for doing such. Instead, we smile.
When I spot the vivid golden petals of daffodils, I nearly skip to the patch. “Look Dad! Daffodils!”
A small smile crests his face. Perhaps with a bit more pity than I would’ve cared to recognize but I decided to ignore him.
“I'm bringing some back home,” I state while plucking the blossoms and collecting the seeds. Though I know we can’t dedicate too much time or energy to the flowers, a promise is a promise. Arista wants the flowers and so she'll get them.
Narcissus, also known as daffodils, has always been my favorite flower. Ari and I have long shared our love for all flowers, but daffodils hold a special place in Arista’s heart. Long ago she told me that they remind her of home. Therefore, today I'm determined to collect any seeds the patches of plants could offer. Perhaps like my old homes I'll be able to grow some right outside for us.
A memory of her home.
Wrapping the seeds in a large leaf, I tuck the bundle of seeds into my pocket before we move along through the woods.
These woods are as familiar to me as my garden. While being about as comforting. The serenity which the forest offers is unlike what our city has. The streets feel suffocating. Like everyone and everything is pushing in at me. As though I don’t have enough space to even breathe.
As we check our snares, worry becomes all consuming.
Unfortunately, the traps aren't doing so well. The woods are beautiful, but our traps are most certainly bare. Most look untouched since the day that we set them. With each barren trap, we reevaluate.
Pausing for several moments, we discuss the game trail lines in the clearing around us before coming to the same conclusion. Our traps appear to be in the optimal position, yet we’ve hardly anything. Only two small rabbits of our numerous traps. Not even a sighting of another animal.
Not even a damn squirrel.
While Dad leans down to harvest the herbs, I monitor the perimeter of the dewy grove with my bow ready. One can never be too sure or cautious when about in the woods. Hunger pushed us further into the forest, deeper than normally wise.
Guiltily, I debate on if I should even tell him. Should I come back in the morning?
“Pandy, I know that look. Memorized it early on with you because it’s never good. How far is the next trap?” His voice was full of concern. Gripping the arch of his nose, he looks like he is trying to stave off a migraine.
Turning, I look off toward my distant traps, gesturing toward the north.
Muttering under his breath, “We weren’t even supposed to be this far.”
Weren’t supposed to be this far.
But no risk means no more rabbits.
“Yes, but those two small rabbits won’t be able to hold us over for long. I'm not sure if it will even feed the five of us.” His eyes look down on me with trepidation. My eyes survey the mushroom boundary marking a barrier between our worlds.
