21 #2
I just blink. This sentence reminds me why I’m here, and when I ask the question, it’s not just for myself.
I want to know.
“And do you truly see it this way? A mistake?” I whisper.
“Do you find joy in life? Have you ever?” Pandora asks, her tone turning sadder. I want to give an honest answer, but they are two separate questions.
“Not now,” I begin, “but there used to be a lot.”
She nods.
“Then I wasn’t mistaken.”
Her delicate hands play a soft melody on the thick strings.
“Have you ever experienced sorrow in life?” she asks.
Suddenly, everything comes to mind. The dreams that wouldn’t let me sleep. The medication’s side effects, which broke my body during the day but still became the driving force of my life.
My parents’ tired care. My hatred towards them. Their hatred towards me. My brother’s illness causing the collapse, and my mistake creating an indelible black hole.
I simply nod.
Pandora does the same.
“Then I was in the wrong,” she adds, smiling faintly.
“Help me!” I plead. “I need to know why I’m here! I need to know what you’ve done! I need to know what will happen!”
Pandora looks at me, her dark-brown eyes piercing my cold, light blue gaze.
“I can help you,” she says. “But as for what will happen, I have no knowledge.”
Her hands stop plucking the delicate melody, and silence falls over the garden. The absence of music is quickly filled by the babbling of the stream and the chirping of birds. Pandora stands up. She walks towards a temple. I follow.
We enter a chapel. In the middle, on a waist-high column, rests the urn from the demon book. Its lid is open. My eyes widen as I look inside.
The box has no bottom; only darkness swirls within.
“Did the demons come out of here?”
Pandora nods slowly.
“What happened?” I ask.
She sighs. Her voice resembles the melody of the harp.
“Long ago, sometime during the Age of Constellations, humans lived in peace with the Gods. They worshipped someone they called Cosmos. He created them, and through them, we came into being. Humans were good; they didn’t know how to be bad.
They didn’t ask, they only gave. Even when they did ask, they only wanted what they needed.
They considered death natural; they thanked life and rejoiced in daily wonders. ”
Pandora’s face wrinkles.
“But that wasn’t enough for the gods, and many rebelled because of humans having no choice.
But if the humans were given it, they wouldn’t be so happy – so eager to help, so friendly.
They believed evil had its place, and without it, true good couldn’t exist. They deliberated for centuries, taking their time to decide.
Generations turned to dust and were reborn.
Until the gods agreed that humans needed a choice.
But they didn’t want to start big. They found a jewelry box at the bottom of the Thalassa sea – an old world’s ocean not known to you.
They didn’t know how it got there, but they felt the evil spirits in it – the exciting experiment of destruction. ”
Pandora’s gaze darkens, as does mine. If the story is true, we’re merely victims of bored gods.
“As I said, they didn’t want to start big,” the girl continues. “First, they created a woman whom neither man nor woman could resist. Whose beauty no one could compete with, whose voice conjures melodies, and whose existence is paired with a sense of peace. That woman is me.”
I swallow hard because every word she says is true. I could never harm this woman. She seems so young, just like me, yet her gaze reaches back thousands of years. Her hand trembles as she places it on the jewelry box. Instead of her eyes, her voice is crying.
“They said it was mine, but I can’t open it.
I came into the world like any other human, not even imagining the smallest part of evil.
I didn’t understand why it was forbidden, why it wasn’t allowed.
For a while, I followed the instruction, but the urn spoke to me every day.
It wooed me with words I didn’t know, but that I understood nonetheless.
I lived in this garden with the god I loved, and he loved me in return.
But it wasn’t enough for me. The box called, and the prohibition hurt.
The incomprehension crept under my skin. ”
Pandora takes a deep breath. Now comes the punchline, from which even she won’t learn.
“And one day, I opened it. I remember the terror. I’ve never been so scared before, and haven’t been since. I screamed and immediately slammed the lid shut. But by then, it was too late. Horror covered the human world.”
Her eyes well up with tears. I know this feeling, the gnawing guilt. If she couldn’t forgive herself over millennia, how could I forget?
“You feel your grief because of me,” she says from behind teary eyes. “It’s my fault you suffer. It’s my fault the whole world is in torment.”
“No!” I say, putting my hand on her arm. “You were meant to do this! If they hadn’t chosen you, they would have found someone else! It’s their fault, not yours.”
Pandora shakes her head.
“They didn’t want this. Not like this. They didn’t know what was in the box. They warned me that it was something bad. They felt the leaking darkness too, but they didn’t expect the everlasting night.”
Pandora’s pain permeates me. I try to find a way out of her suffering.
“It won’t last forever,” I whisper. “There are happy people. It’s not your fault…”
Pandora nods and shakes my hand off her arm.
“I believe there are chosen ones. You are one, Lotte.”
I’m not surprised she knows my name, but her statement surprises me.
“Why would I be anything?”
“The ‘why’ is less important. But if you want to know, it’s because you have everything in you to change everything. You have a choice, just like I did once. You can open the door to either Hell or Heaven. It’s your decision which flood will engulf humanity. You could be the next Pandora.”
I’m stunned by what I’ve heard. The next Pandora?
“What do you mean by it engulfing humanity?”
“When you open one door,” Pandora says seriously, “it determines how life continues among humans. Either Hell embraces them, or Heaven will.”
I’m chilled by her words and the responsibility hidden within them.
“But why would I want to open the Gates of Hell?” I ask too loudly, thinking of the horrors Darya would unleash upon humanity.
“What does the Mirror of Predestination show?” Pandora inquires.
“Two doors,” I reply, to which she nods.
“So, you still haven’t decided. You still have a choice.”
I can only repeat my question.
“But why… why do you think that I would I open the Gates of Hell?”
Pandora shrugs.
“There could be a thousand reasons. Maybe you’ll find that life as a demon comes with less trouble than as an angel. Maybe you’ll choose the easier path, but maybe it will be the harder one. Who knows…?”
“Are you seriously suggesting,” I begin, continuing to speak loudly, “that it’s actually possible for me to open the Gates of Hell? I would never do such a thing!”
Pandora’s gaze turns cold.
“I’m just saying I understand if you choose to.”
“Because you did?!” I snap, but immediately regret it. There’s no need to inflict more wounds on her.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt out. “I just don’t understand why I would choose them – the monsters. If you could see what they do…”
“We’re done for today,” says Pandora, pain and coldness crossing her gaze.
“No!” I plead. “Please don’t leave yet! I still need to know what to do, why I’m here!”
“I’ve answered your questions. I’ve told you why you’re here. The demon and angel blood pulsing through your veins must tell you what to do. I can’t tell you that. No one told me either.”
“And if they had?” I ask, only because I don’t want to leave this warm garden. “If you knew in advance what would happen, what would you do now?”
Pandora ponders. Too long, considering the answer is clear to me. Why doesn’t she say it? She regrets it! She said she made a mistake, that the suffering of humanity is because of her!
As she speaks, her voice is soft but sad.
“But no one did.”
With that, she pushes me out of the mirror.