Quest for the Lyre of Orphaeo

[Philomel]

“May the goddess flourish …”

She set out, following the eastward stars. By the light of the moon a path was laid out for her, for it lit up the white-stone path like an eager beacon. Galloping on the back of her mighty beast - the leviathan of all travellers, the yak-like tera’k - Philomel girded her loins and prepared for a long night of steady journeying.

“Go meet the archivist Melena,” the voice in her dreams had said, “go speak to her and seek the lyre of Orphaeo. It must be found before our enemies find it first, thou must bring it to me in the forest before dark claws snake their way around its power.”

Miss Melena had been a good woman, a worthy rare human worshipper, a child of woodsmen who had somehow come to worship the tree-mother. Once the connection had been made between her and Philomel there had been little to stop them becoming best friends for life and automatically trusting each other with their lives. With the directions folded delicately and pushed into the folds of her belt, Philomel used nowt but her wits to keep her going for now.

Raiaera. They needed to get to Raiaera. First they would get to the harbour, and after the Fiesty Fox had set sail with its captain on board and a limited crew, they would come to the shore of the high elven homeland, ready there to gain what had to be gained before other dark masters came to steal it. The tera’k was fast and beautiful - he would carry Philomel successfully towards where she needed to go. Him, and only him alone, would carry her there.

For though there were other lovers of Drys, such as her brother and her mother, Philomel knew that this task was made for her and her alone. It had been clear from the time of the dream. The dream where the wild-winged and toe-rooted goddess had spoken the words that had caused this change in destiny.

Thump, thump, thump. His hooves made grooves and heavy holes in the path as it changed from stone to dirt. Soon enough there would be mud, for it rained often in the hills here, west of Concordia forest. It being night, there were very few others on the road, allowing the way to be clear. It avoided those who might berate the huge beast on the road, it left behind all those who might curse her as she tipped their cabbage carts.

“My cabbages!” they would cry, and cause horror. Philomel in any case would leave them in the dust, but at least night left all chance of it behind. Back in the realm of unreality.

____

The anchor laid with a splash into the Raiaeran harbour. From the ship strode the proud faun, with the fox quick at her hooves. Upon the ship, deep in its bowels, her tera'k beast lowed, eager to be away from the water.

Her heart hammered as she left her crew and army behind, striding by herself and her fellow earth-kin towards the land that would lead them to the pinnacle of their mission. Raising her chin to show her pride in this placement of her, going in the spirit of her goddess, for a mission of her goddess, she faced east and set off to meet the fated Breaker.