Ephemeral

Written by Rita Noor

Whenever my name comes up in Selene’s court, she giggles and lifts an ivory hand to barely obscure a waxing grin. “Muia, you ask?” she’ll muse coyly. “Why, I turned her into a fly. A wretched little girl, how irksome.”

My story is, at best, a minor flourishment to warn mortals, to bow their heads and retreat to the shadows when the gods visit the lands they manifested for our precarious existence. At worst, it’s that I’ve been forgotten. 

I met Endymion long before Selene laid eyes on him. A gift from Zeus’s tryst with a shepherd’s daughter, he was incapable of imperfection. Blessedly for the other boys in the village, he abstained from competitive pursuits. Instead of wrestling, Endymion climbed fruiting trees to find the juiciest bite. He pored over texts about taxonomy, foreign lands boasting fragrant spices, and the moon. On clear nights with his flock, Endymion would bring a telescope into the foothills that connected the clustering of our humble abodes to the sheer sides of the surrounding mountains, his shaggy white guard dogs trudging loyally behind.

“He’s no Hercules,” my elder sister would always say whenever she caught me watching him. Perhaps she’d heard that Selene’s interest had piqued in a young man scanning the night skies, that the goddess shone a bit brighter when he adjusted his telescope to focus on her luminous orb. 

“Precisely,” I’d reply. 

I truly was interested in the books and maps Endymion kept. Was the interest feigned in the beginning? Of course. But I was not nearly as obnoxious as Selene would have you think. If I was, he could have stopped sharing his astronomical charts and sketches with me. He could have easily loped ahead when I joined him and his flock, could have told me to leave him be. Rather than bat me away like the irksome fly I would become, he offered me his telescope and beamed when I gasped at how brilliant the stars looked. “Isn’t it glorious?” he murmured, his breath warm against my cheek. 

With a bit of time, we could have been lovers.

Selene came to me once before the curse. As dawn ascended in warm reds across the horizon, my sister burst into our room and shook me awake by the shoulders.

“She’s here,” she whispered, face blanched in panic. 

The goddess of the moon had plucked a plum from one of our trees when I stepped out, the winged steeds guiding her chariot standing still at the edge of our farm. Thick tresses of platinum hair hung down to her waist, pushed back with a thick golden crown. A crescent moon adorned the front, turned sideways to give the illusion of horns. The skirt of her long silver robe dragged on the grass, but none of the dew wet it. 

I approached cautiously. When she turned to face me, I bowed my head in deference. 

“You’re uglier up close,” Selene remarked. She wrinkled her nose. “Smellier too.”

“I…I apologize, goddess.”

She waved her free hand dismissively. “That’s the least of my concerns. I will make this quick and clear–leave Endymion alone. I’ve been speaking to Zeus, and he has assured me I can have the boy.”

My mouth went dry, and I tried not to cough as I swallowed. Risking a glance through my bangs at her divine features that glowed in the early morning rays, I whispered, “I…I don’t think I can do that.”

Selene dropped the plum and crossed her arms. “You don’t think you can leave him alone? You don’t think you can obey a goddess’s orders?”

“Goddess, I care very much for him…”

She grabbed me by the throat. Every part of her was an ethereal monochromatic silver, even down to her teeth, but her eyes were a bottomless black. My fingers jumped up to try and pull her hands off of me, but they were as unyielding and cold as marble.

“Sending you to the River Styx would be merciful compared to what alternatives I could conjure up,” she hissed over my pitiful wheezing. “The boy is mine.”

Spots rippled across my vision as she lifted me off the ground. I do not know how much longer Selene held me like this; there was an icy gust and I was suddenly able to draw in panicked gulps of air, spit and dirt streaking my chin as I lay face down in the grass. Bells tinkled softly before a deep whooshing noise marked Selene’s departure. 

Needless to say, I did not listen. I loved Endymion–adored him. Love is madness, and I could not help but seek his company. I joined him for an overnight trip to these caves that he had been reading about, and any apprehension twisting my stomach dissipated the moment he clapped me on the shoulder and began excitedly listing all of the creatures he hoped to find there.

It was a full moon that night. 

Like the first time Selene had come to confront me, she arrived at dawn. Endymion and I had set up camp on a hillside that overlooked the valley where the caves were below. The demigod slept on the other side of his flock from me, as deep in slumber and as beautiful as ever. 

I awoke to the sound of bells–jangling rather than tinkling, this time–and immediately was assaulted by a familiar cold wind blasting over my face. Goosebumps scrunched my skin as I attempted to yank the blanket over my head, but Selene ripped it entirely away with a sharp gust as she climbed out of her chariot. 

The sheep began to stir, their frightened bleats echoing out until the entire flock was up and trying to back away from the goddess and I. The dogs barked, teeth bared and hackles raised. Endymion continued to sleep. 

“How are you mortals so foolish?” Selene sighed as I trembled, struggling to my feet. She crushed the distance between us with a few graceful strides and grabbed me by the hair, forcing me to look her in the eye. I’d forgotten how tall she was. 

“Goddess, please!” My teeth chattered violently and I clasped my hands together. “Please, Selene!”

“Are you even sorry? I doubt it. You’re hardly capable of just a few menial thoughts anyways, before–” 

Selene shoved me back. I went sprawling, the back of my head slamming hard into the earth and stars whitening my vision. There was nothing I could do to stop her because I was but a fragile, wretched little girl. I wept in terror, begging brokenly, “Please! Have mercy, goddess. Please, please, please…”

“–your mind goes poof!”

Pain engulfed me, roaring white-hot. Like a hammer into glass, it felt like my bones had been shattered and sent scattering. Howls of pain were ripped from my lips as I transformed–shrank, stretched, split–and now I possessed an eternal form that would mark me a fool.

Dazed, I stumbled to find something familiar. Giant blades of grass gave way to soft hairs and smooth skin, and I–with my newfound wings–weaved up to Endymion’s cheek. I tried to speak, but all that vibrated out of my tiny body was a persistent buzzing. Groaning, he stirred and lifted a hand to swat at me. I managed to spiral away, and found purchase clinging onto his blanket. 

“As I said before, Zeus said I could have Endymion. I rather like the way he looks right now, so I think I’ll keep him as such.” Selene glided over to us. “He will wake as I wish, but otherwise this slumber preserves his youth.” She knelt to admire her handiwork. I could no longer see the details of her face, but I could detect her movements and crouched defensively. 

“Seeing as you could not stay away, I’ll allow you to remain with him,” Selene sneered. “You too will be everlasting like this.”

Oh, how I wish I could have killed her then. There were punishments for the gods and other non-mortals; I’d learned what had befallen Prometheus when he gave us fire. They too could suffer for millennia, for more.

But not Selene. To this day the moon hangs in the sky and commands the tides, oversees love spells, and gives nocturnal hunters a light to hunt by. She has had fifty daughters by Endymion. The goddess remains in the good graces of Zeus and Hera, and sacred to cultists who sustain her with routine worship. 

Let this be a warning.