Ancient Voices Paper

Adara’s Dilemma

When the winds of change blow fiercely, the loveliest lily wilts faster than the weed.

Adara squeezed her eyes tightly, as if this action alone could awaken her from the awful nightmare she had refused to admit was in fact real. When she ceased these naively futile attempts, the nauseating sloshing reminded her that she was at sea, far away from her familiar home of Ithaca. The putrid smell of rotting fish, mixed with the stale odor of masculine sweat, assaulted her nostrils as the loud rustling on the deck above indicated that morning had brought a new day. As she slowly awakened, Adara tried to piece together the horrific events that brought her to this miserable ship.
Adara remembered the belligerent men who, only days ago, decimated her city, killed her people, and captured her to give to the strongest warrior as a trophy. At a tender age of 17, Adara was beginning to blossom into one of the most beautiful young women in all of Greece, so naturally she was the perfect award for a war prize. With immense, wide set sky blue eyes and radiant golden ringlets that bounced down her pleasantly curvaceous body, Adara had always been the envy of every girl in Ithaca. Growing up among nobility, in a city whose natural beauty seemed to compete with her physical attractiveness, Adara had grown accustomed to being the center of attention. Throughout her childhood and adolescence, Adara’s confidence had developed into outright vanity, and she eventually stopped pursuing the enrichment of her inner beauty. Adara recalled that she had had everything she could have wanted: good looks, great fortune, and a promising future with the greatest Ithacan warrior of all time, young Darius. But all of these gifts were taken away the night the Spartans invaded her home and forcibly swept her away.
After unwillingly reliving the painful experiences of the nights before, Adara decided her need for sustenance prevailed over her need for comfort and understanding. She weakly arose from the foreign bed she shared with the beastly Eliud, and made her way to the ship’s kitchen. Passing by the lavishly elegant furnishings of the room, Adara winced with a sharp yearning to return to her own bedroom. Eliud’s armor lay heaped on the floor, stained with the blood of her relatives. On her way to the kitchen, Adara was forced to circumnavigate the hostile, lustful stares of the Spartan warriors, which eroded every last ounce of her self-confidence. When she arrived at the kitchen, Eliud, a massive warrior with a beak nose, leathery scar ridden skin, and a openly pompous attitude, beckoned to her and said, “My lovely, how wonderful of you to join us. Sit down, over here, where all the men can see what a beautiful trophy I have won.” Instantly repulsed by both his arrogant personality and unsightly looks, Adara fought to resist the urge to fling herself overboard and sink to the bottom of the azure ocean. Reluctantly, she took a seat and forced a contrived smile, the same grin she had learn to produce on command when she made public appearances with her father, the late King of Ithaca. A grubby servant boy scuttled over and served her cold fish with a handful of overripe grapes, and the savage looks of the other warriors made it clear that this meal must have been a delicacy aboard the ship. As she began to nibble at her breakfast, the boisterous Eliud decided the time was right to give a little speech to the battered fighters that had slowly congregated around the eating area:
“My courageous comrades: Our success in the defeat of the Ithacan army was by no means an easy achievement. We were forced to sacrifice our own men in the pursuit of victory, but the men that died will not be forgotten. I would like to recognize the accomplishments of my inferiors, and also point out that I took pleasure in personally slaying the commander of the Ithacan army. From this battle, we gained not only spoils of the Ithacan treasury, but also this magnificent prize to my left, Adara. Please welcome her.”
As Eliud concluded his victory speech, the men hooted and stomped their boots in satisfaction. But Adara had been driven to a state of deep melancholy, and a sense of hopelessness had overtaken her spirit. Realizing that the man Eliud had gleefully slain was her own true love Darius, Adara writhed with feelings of sadness and fury. Never had Adara’s aesthetic value brought such abhorrent consequences.
As the crowds of men settled down and Eliud reached out to stroke his new prize, Adara quietly excused herself and made a beeline to the ship’s stern. Looking out to the serene sea, Adara’s irrational thoughts of suicide once again surfaced. With her family and homeland destroyed, her lover slaughtered, and her future only promising dismal years with the disgusting Eliud, Adara felt she had nothing to live for. Cautiously, she walked to the edge of the ship, shut her eyes, and placed one foot overboard. Before she could take her last step, however, the radiant goddess Athena descended from the heavens and spoke to her:
“My poor Adara, why would you take your own life? Haven’t you been blessed with the fairest face in all of Ithaca? Do you not value your fortune?”
Adara, startled, replied, “If I could regain all that I have lost, then perhaps I would have a purpose. But I now realize that I am not strong on the inside, and cannot endure the suffering that awaits me in the future.”
Athena responded, “My child, I cannot bring your loved ones back, nor can I mend the wounds of your psyche. However, if you wish to evade a dismal future with Eliud, I can be of assistance.”
“Tell me more,” Adara pleaded.
“It is obvious that Eliud is attracted solely to your stunning beauty, and he will never let you go unless he comes upon another maiden of even greater aesthetic value. Therefore, if you wish to be set free, I can cast a spell that will disfigure your appearance and make you undesirable by all who look upon you.”
“What do you mean undesirable? Is that possible?”
Athena assured her, “Sweet Adara, I can transform you from a lily to a weed, so that any warrior would wish to expel you from his garden.”
Still thinking with her heart, Adara knew she wanted the spell. Anything to get away from her vile Spartan captor and the life of a showpiece. But before she agreed to undergo the transformation, a rare, unselfish thought sprang into Adara’s mind. Although she was far from wise, Adara had the ability to consider the implications and consequences of her decision. She knew that if Eliud got rid of her, his pride and honor would be severely damaged, and serious conflict could spring from his anger. A high ranking warrior deprived of his war prize was like a king stripped of his golden jeweled crown.
When forced to separate her heart from logic in making a choice, Adara faced a mental schism that led to noticeable discomfort. Even though her strong emotions clouded her reasoning, Adara’s conscience told her she must accept her fate and reject Athena’s help. When she turned to inform Athena, however, the goddess had already gone. Adara stepped away from the edge, and started walking back to the kitchen. With her back to the sea, Adara gained partial composure, attempted to suppress her anxiety, and reassured herself that although she was a prisoner of war, she would always have the freedom to choose how she viewed and fulfilled each life task that awaited her.