The Last Ballad of Olympus: The Waltz of the Vulture and Owl

The Cryptic Passage

The stars were bright on that night. There was no moon, but the sadness was dispelled by some other force aside from the missing prowess of Selene—

The fair maiden, who forgot her name, was alone in a dim room but joyous as if some merry spirits danced along with her childish spree. Her voice was beautiful, her laughs were infectious—she was divine! She was the hidden gem buried in the deep soil. Oh, how perfect indeed she was, though her mind was as shallow as the early morning sea tide.

No more did her logic forbade her in her antics. No more did her wisdom take over her juvenile thoughts. Such a pity, but her soul was floating on cloud nine that no one could ever stop her from her new-found pleasure.

As she went on with her prancing and gliding—inadvertently, a secret door slid open. The door was camouflaged on the frescos that adorned the walls, making it invisible to the naked eye even with light.

She finally stopped, tilting her head in bewilderment at the magic that unraveled before her.

"What is that?" She wondered at the creaking sound the door made.

It was dark—pitch black as the dried well on eventide. But something was pulling her to go inside the uncharted territory.

"Should I—no." She faltered, reassessing her hunch.

But a whisper tingled her ear, forcing her with her decision to enter. "Enter—please." It told her.

"Enter. Enter? Should I be doing this?" She dithered once more.

"Please enter. Fair lady, you are most welcome here." The voice grew louder—compelling her again to step into the darkness.

The maiden paused, took a deep breath, and finally settled in with her decision. "So, it shall be." She bravely said, taking one step at a time towards the portal to uncertainty. So far, there was still little courage in her—latching to her core like the last virtue inside Pandora's jar.

As she reached the frame of the secret door, the opening grew wide—welcoming her as if it was some old friend who had waited for her return.

Once inside, it was ominous—more silent than in the previous room. Somehow, the maiden could see a faint outline of something illuminated by the light from the twinkling stars. She could make out of a table and nothing more.

"Is someone here?" She asked as she drew near to the object she just deciphered.

"Why—greetings, my beautiful one." A voice echoed, shaking her to her core. "Be not afraid. I am a friend."

"A—are you?" She doubted, shivering as the presence of the strange voice grew colossal—as if its hands stretched high, wanting to envelop her in a chamber of both mystery and haunting.

"Ha!" The voice laughed. "Of course I am. I am a friend. Oh, it is perfect to see your lovely face again. I hate to see those eyes drowsed in weakness and pain when I once gazed on it."

The lady swallowed a hard pit as she tried to fit in the scattered pieces of the puzzle in her head. She pondered what he said, wandering back into the misty past to see if such a voice rang some bells. But there was none. Not one of those blaring voices matched the baritone of her host. Did such an acquaintance ever happen? Was that presence her friend? If so, how come there were only images of fog and grays captured in her head? Not even a memory of family—if she had one.

"But how come I—I ca—cannot remember you?"

The voice sighed while eyes darted to her body that seemed to luster amidst the dimness. The voice chuckled, enjoying the sight of her as she stared blankly, waiting for a response.