127. As We Got Closer, Atlas Turned to Look at Us
As We Got Closer, Atlas Turned to Look at Us
‘Young Zephyrus,’ Atlas, the giant
in the middle of this strange
orchard of light and darkness, acknowledged.
Zephyrus bowed ridiculously low
and said, ‘I bring you visitors, uncle.’
Zephyrus’s cloud dissipated
as we landed on the azure top
of the skies. We stood there,
unable to understand how
we could stand in such a place.
‘It’s the stars.’ Atlas read our minds.
His voice was a gentle rumble.
Kind-eyed with silver curls,
Atlas was known for his placid ways.
To nurture stars awake,
one must know how to sing
lullabies, and lullabies are not loud.
They are a soft hum in the dark.
A hum that Atlas sang to us.
‘The stars’ energy built this orchard.
That’s why Gods can stand here.
If every star left this place,
we would fall into the oceans below.’
Asteria stepped forward,
her eyes shining bright.
Asteria was the Goddess
of Falling Stars. Atlas made them.
‘I have always wanted to meet you,’
she told him with awe. Atlas extended
a large hand and gently placed it
on Asteria’s shoulder.
‘You have been kind to my stars, niece,’
he said tenderly. ‘They told me
you have guided their siblings
to their endings well.’
Asteria’s eyes shone and I could not
help but smile too. To be told
you did your loving work well
was a gift not many younger Gods
received from older deities.
She took a moment to compose
herself and asked softly,
‘Uncle, did our sister Metis
come here to you?’
Atlas moved his hand to his chin
as though in deep thought.
‘She did. She was looking for
the seed of a stardust tree.’
I stared at him.
Why would she need this?
It dawned on me in that moment.
Metis was collecting ingredients.
Asteria and I stared at each other.
Wordlessly, language became realization.
Metis was making a spell.