Out of Maron, Leneus and Silenus, Silenus was the only one who remained the reluctant, stubborn old goat that they were even though we had a good point. But when Sophia finally decided to let me “talk” to the fat satyr, he came around in less than minute.
He waddled over to Zephyrus Creek on his furry hindquarters and hesitantly muttered an incantation. A golden vapour bridge materialized connecting over the water to the Elder Tree.
“Alright, Movie it” he grumbled “before you get us all in trouble” we walked across the bridge without hesitation. As soon as my foot touched the vibrant green grass I felt stronger, wiser, like I could take on anyone or anything.
Silenus looked at my expression and huffed indignantly “That would be the spirit of Melody seeping through the roots of the Elder Tree. She acts like the Golden Fleece, in case you haven’t realized.” That stopped me dead in my tracks.
“The Golden Fleece? You’re kidding me?” the others looked at me with confused expressions. “You’re saying if Melody is released, the tree will die?” I asked Silenus. The satyr’s voice lowered to a whisper “Might. Know one knows what the tree will be like. Melody’s spirit and body has been encased in it for so long, everyone’s forgotten and we doubt Dionysus will be of any service to help make sure the tree thrives without Melody. He couldn’t care less about the Elder Tree and without the Elder Tree…”
Silenus didn’t need to finish the thought. But even we could see what would happen. Melody’s release comes with a price. A deadly price. “Isn’t there any other god who could help? Like a god of trees or something?” asked Flare, Silenus shook his head morosely. “What about a goddess of agriculture?” I asked.
Silenus looked at me. “Why would she help? The last thing anyone has ever heard her say was that she would never forgive or speak another living thing again and this was at Melody’s concealment, over 1000 years ago. She hasn’t even attended any of the councils onOlympussince. Neither Hermes or Persephone have been able to find her or speak to her.”
“Maybe that is because I am in a state of depression. Loosing another daughter of mine is unbearable.” We all turned and walking over the vapour bridge was none other the than the goddess of agriculture herself, Demeter.
Demeter was beautiful. She had silky golden blonde hair that was gathered back in a bun and decorated with wildflowers and her vibrant, multicoloured eyes reminded me of the first blooming flowers of spring. She was wearing a Greek chiton, the colour of wheat, which fell to her ankles and her arms were bedecked with delicate golden jewellery. She was holding an ear of wheat between her arms. A golden key hung from the strings that bound them.
Demeter waved her hand sadly over the key and it glowed before hovering a few feet in front of me. “Place the key in the heart of the tree to release her.” Demeter gestured to the barely recognizable opening in the trees centre.
I took the key out of the air and turned to look at Silenus. “We have no choice.” I said. The fat satyr nodded and I turned towards the tree.