By: Bryan Ricardo Marini Quintana
Before Prometheus seized Zeus’ furtive fire to awaken mankind from their slumbering shade, amidst the fabled lands of Hellas and Anatolia arose the mystifying isle of Menodora. Near the maiden’s waters wandered the magisterial vessel of Adamantios, ramming across her white shores in the Aegean Sea. Here dwelled a nymph who held dominion over her woodland realm, enticing a mariner with the mellow aroma of her plums to bind him under a spell. Whilst Adamantios delved ever deeper into the boughs of Menodora, she stretched her branches to and fro, wrapping him beneath her limbs. She then beheld the stout craft of his ship as he glimpsed the bewildering beauty of her magical domain. Thereupon, a spirit became smitten by the form when Menodora slept with Adamantios and conceived Diodorus.
After the moon’s fading and the sun’s rising, the father departed when he was mustered to resume his post. Without hesitation, he chose to abandon his beloved and child, sailing away with a promise to return when his task had been fulfilled. Alone, the mother sprang her seed, nurturing him within her woodland realm. She entwined her branches to cloud him with the gloom of Nyx and the paleness of Selene, bloating Helios’ chariot from fetching the light. Diodorus became shunned from the eternal flame that eclipsed every year, casting a shadow over the rotation of Adamantios’ sundial. Amidst the mystical isle of Menodora, ensnaring vines stretched to the east and west, where her son was confined to the borders of her magical domain under duress by the zealous nature of his mother.
Persistently, Diodorus wailed to be quelled by the breast of Menodora, latching onto her bosom to hide from mankind in seclusion. Amidst bountiful trees, the child was fenced from the seas, towered from the heavens, and prohibited from leaving his mother’s sight. Whilst he grew steadfast in stature, Menodora was reminded of her beloved and became haunted by the recollection of his departure. In his father’s absence, Diodorus lacked form and was cast from his mother’s spirit. She leashed him with slithering vines and forced him to remain at her side, fearful he’d forsake her as Adamantios had. Every day, she gathered the harvest and gifted the labor to him, robbing her child of freely snatching nourishment on his own. Everything Diodorus demanded, Menodora provided by merely mumbling and pointing at what he desired. Infancy bloomed into childhood and matured into adolescence, with the feeble boy now grown into a stout man who had been shielded from all he feared, incapable of uttering the tongue of mankind and picking himself up to tread in their footsteps. In time, the son became maimed whilst his nurturer spoiled him when she ceaselessly recited: “Come mine dear Diodorus and listen to thy mother, thou shall never be compelled to stretch thy feet or declare with thy tongue, for mine woodland realm will deliver thou with every fruit and need, as thy requests shall be satisfied with great haste and heed.”
Thence, Adamantios returned from his perilous journey to her ragged shores, longing to amend for his absence. After forsaking his duty, he sought the embrace of Menodora, haunted by a guilty conscience. However, when the father delved into her woodland realm, he became horrified by the sight of his son still clasped in the belly of the mother. There, Diodorus wriggled and whined, waiting to receive whatever was within Menodora’s grasp. In a flicker, Adamantios fumed with a fit of fury, flashing his saber to cut through the veins that wrapped his son whilst he gazed in revulsion at a man subjected to his mother’s breast. The boy collapsed at his father’s feet as he seized him to raise Diodorus into manhood. For the last time, the nymph and the mariner beheld one another as his craft repulsed her, and he became terrified of her charm. In piercing grief, Menodora wailed the loss of her son, struggling to catch Adamantios with the threads of her net. Desperately, she clung to her child’s numb feet from the tree’s brittle branches, but his father dragged him with the ship’s chains away from his mother in that cursed isle. Thereupon, the spirit split from the form when Adamantios robbed Diodorus of Menodora.
They set off aboard the father’s vessel, where his son tirelessly labored to earn rations of food and stood on his feet to maintain an admirable reputation. As the waves crashed to and fro, he became sick and barely fulfilled his tasks, failing to steer the ship. Once more, Adamantios’ temper was incited, and Diodorus turned his bitterness against him as their rivalry to claim mastery originated. A contemptuous struggle ensued between a father’s absent presence and his son’s boyish witlessness. In that ship, Diodorus toiled under the whip of Adamantios until he could go on no more, longing for the lodging of his mother. He failed to grasp the aptitude of speech and every errand assigned, only learning to imitate the ferocity of his father. In time, the son became maimed whilst his master flogged him when he ceaselessly shouted: “Come mine meek Diodorus and listen to thy father, thou must endeavor to gain sustenance and station, for mine vessel will test thy body and break thy soul, as thine every deed accomplished shall be rewarded with utter haste and heed!”
After arduous trials, Diodorus learned to speak the tongue of mankind and tread in their footsteps, but his deeds were driven by spite, craving to surpass Adamantios. When the boy mustered the mettle of a mariner, he unleashed his newfound potency to strike down his father. Immediately, Diodorus seized the saber and smote him, steering the ship back to the isle of his mother. Upon returning, he rammed the shattered vessel into Menodora’s colorless shores, where he burned Adamantios’ craft to sever his road to mankind. From afar, a mother witnessed the wickedness of her child, who slew his father in retribution. When he sought refuge, she disregarded his deed, wrapping him within the haven of her bosom, where he would never age in her woodland realm. Thus, Menodora’s spirit rotted to mold, and Adamantios’ form flickered into ashes, as their boy, who never grew, drowned amidst the waves of the sea, swallowing Diodorus in his youth.
The Western Voyager 