The List:
Names: Archimedes, Ashuria
Places: Athens, Acropolis
Time: Afternoon
Objects: Arches, Apricots, Almonds
The Result:
"Answers in the Arches"
The bright afternoon sun glinted off the white walls of the
Acropolis crowning the highest point in Athens. Blue stenciling along the edges
provided a pleasing visual for the eyes, while absorbing some of the glare that
would otherwise blind its citizens.
Under an arch at the edge of an apricot grove, a young girl
munched on a handful of almonds as she stared out over the Aegean Sea. So
intent was her focus, that she almost missed the approach of an elderly man in
a grey toga.
“A pretty aster clings to the wall, growing taller and more
beautiful every day!” he mused.
The young girl glanced up and smiled. “Oh, hello, Master
Archimedes.”
The old man stroked his bushy white beard. “Ashuria, my
dear, what’s the problem?”
Ashuria sighed and tapped the heels of her sandals against
the wall. “I have a dilemma that I am not sure how to answer,” she confessed.
Archimedes took a seat next to the girl. He gave a low
chuckle. “So you would seek out a Sicilian astronomer for advice, as if I could
read the answers you seek, hidden among the stars?” He shook his head. “Why not
turn to your mother instead?”
Ashuria rubbed the hem of her mauve-colored dress. “My
mother and father are in accord.”
Archimedes frowned. “And this does not satisfy you, to see
your parents agree on a matter?”
Ashuria shook her head. “Not if the thing they agree on is
wrong!”
The old man leaned out to pluck a ripe fruit from a
low-hanging branch. “How is it wrong? Does your father intend to break the
law?”
“Not the law of the land,” Ashuria admitted, “but is there
not also a moral law that people must follow?”
Archimedes nodded. “So the philosophers would say—and each
would have a different theory about the parameters and implication of this moral law.”
Ashuria moaned and covered her head. “Then I am afraid the
moral law of my parents is different than the one I hold—so what am I to do?”
“Tell me, child,” Archimedes offered her an apricot, “would
great harm come to anyone if you simply laid aside your misgivings and followed
your parents in whatever they have asked you to do?”
Ashuria’s lips twitched. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “I
am very afraid because no one else has ever done this thing before, so I do not
know what harm will come of it.”
Archimedes wiped his hand on the loose fold of his toga.
“It could be that no harm may come at all... yet you are still too much afraid of it. Why can you not find peace in minding
your elders like so many others?”
Ashuria drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around her
legs, hugging them to her chest. “Something still stops me, Master Archimedes.
What they want to do is wrong, and nothing I can think of can change that
sentiment in me.”
Archimedes shrugged. “Well then, my dear Ashuria, if nothing
can change that, then there won’t be any need to worry. Your conscience is
clear enough to prevent you from violating this moral law of yours.”
Ashuria tilted her head, letting her pale hair drape across
her face. “What does that mean?” she asked.
Archimedes patted her on the shoulder. “It means, dear
child, that you only need to go as far as you feel you may safely do so. Your
own spirit will guide you in doing what you think is right.”
He squinted up at the sun, noting the angle of the shadows
cutting under the arches. “I must meet with the Assembly,” he explained. “Is
there anything else you wished to discuss?”
Ashuria shook her head. “No,” she said. “Thank you for your
wise words.”
Archimedes shrugged. “It is only in application that we
discover how vital the advice of another really is.” He trudged further up the
road, while Ashuria scurried back home.
“Ashuria!” her mother met her at the door, her head wrapped
in a large cloth that hid all of her hair. “Come quickly! Preparations are
underway. Where have you been?” The tall woman’s firm hand swept the young girl
into the room.
Ashuria stopped short when she saw her father in his white
tunic and purple sash. “Father!” she cried. “Your hair! What happened?”
The entire top of his head matched the color of his sash.
Ashuria’s father smiled at her, beckoning her forward. “It’s going to be the
new fashion when we get to Natalys!”
Ashuria frowned. “But… why?”
Her mother entered, pulling the cloth off her head. Her hair
tumbled down over her shoulders and back in luxurious waves—that same unnatural
violet color. How many pounds of dye had been wasted on this frivolous fashion
statement? “Because we are going to lead
the new colony, Ashuria, dear! As its leaders, we needed some way to stand
out—and purple being the herald of royalty, we decided that purple hair would
signify our rank among the citadel!” She stroked Ashuria’s pale golden curls.
“Your hair would look so lovely—“
“No!” Ashuria felt the tightness in her stomach, the ache
that spread through her whole body at the overwhelming wrongness of the whole situation. “I will not be going with
you!”
Her mother’s face fell. “But Ashuria,” she pressed, “you must
come with us!”
Her father nodded. “Yes, the Assembly has decided that
everyone who has drunk of the Fountain must return to Natalys and live there
permanently.”
Ashuria felt her back press against the wall behind her. She
was still within reach of her mother’s long arms. “But that was one drink!” She said, the tears climbing into her eyes.
“I didn’t know!”
Her mother smiled, gliding ever closer. “One drink is all it
takes.”
Ashuria clapped her hands to her mouth. What would happen to
her now? Her whole body trembled. “No! I don’t want it!” she cried.
“Oh, darling!” Her mother pulled her close into a tight
embrace. “Come, relax with me. You’re just tired, and the thought of such a long
journey frightens you. It will be all right,
I promise.”
Ashuria wanted it to be all right. She prayed for it harder
than she had ever prayed for anything else in her life. One drink is all it
takes. She had drunk once, and would serve
that punishment forever.
“One drink, one forfeit,” she whispered. It was a fitting
consequence, and that made it just.
Ashuria looked up at her mother. “For my trespass of
drinking from the Fountain, I will allow the servants to dye my hair.” She
cringed inwardly at the way her mother sat up with wide, hungering eyes. “But,”
she forced herself to finish, “I will never drink of that fountain again!”
Her mother huffed. “Oh, Ashuria, how can you say that? Why,
in Natalys, the very ground is saturated
by water from the Fountain of Youth! Crops are irrigated by it, food and
clothing is washed in it, the wines are made with it, and it is the only
thing to drink there!” She patted Ashuria’s
head. “I understand how you would like to keep your principles, but the fact
is, dear, you won’t be able to resist for long.”
Sitting at the edge of the pool, watching her reflection as
the servant spread the heinous purple paste over her wet locks, Ashuria felt
her conscience harden within her. They think I will eventually approve of
what they have done, she thought. They
have no idea how strong I really am. Someday, I will find the chance to stand up for what I believe in. I will show them what I am made of, she promised herself. Someday.
*******
To find out what happens in Natalys, and Ashuria's ultimate choice, Click >HERE<
Also in the A-to-Z Challenge Series: ( * Continuations of Suggestion Box installments)
-Letter I* ] [-Letter S*
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