8 Years Ago: Orestes

For the past two weeks, spending time helping Pylades recover actually wasn’t as bad as I thought. Although I originally insisted on this duty partially out of honor, and partially out of the want to make friends with the only person her my own age, I thought that King Strophius would actually take my words at face value and make me do work. I was wrong, and most of the actual work was delegated to servants, which left me nothing to do but to sit beside and talk with Pylades. Although at first he looks like a brash and insensitive kid, I have come to learn that he has a vulnerable side. It seemed that he doesn’t get to hang out with kids his own age often, and that his royal status has often prevented him from making friends. I guess I would have had the same problem except for the presence of my sister Electra, the thought of whom makes my heart ache.

“You know,” Pylades started, “the medicine man said I could probably start walking again today if I feel comfortable, and I am tired of being stuck inside, I need fresh air and exercise.”

“I can wheel you outside,” I said, and hold you while you work out.”

Pylades made a face, “Nah I am good, let’s go.” He stood up but as I rushed to help him, he held out a hand and stopped me. We walked side by side into the courtyard, I could notice that he had a slight limp, but otherwise had no difficulty walking. I hoped that he would recover completely soon.

“You’ve been a real hero the past two weeks,” Pylades said.

“Me? I am no hero, I simply make amends for my mistakes, heroes do great deeds that benefit mankind,” I said, more sheepishly than I intended.

Pylades laughed, it was a full, hearty laugh. Not the kinds that adults give when sipping wine at tables out of politeness, this laugh was real, filled with mirth. “Jason never did anything that benefitted mankind,” he responded, “Perseus slayed the Medusa, Bellerophon the Chimera, Oedipus the Sphinx, Theseus the Minotaur, and Hercules did his twelve labors. Yet all Jason did was sail away with the Argonauts and retrieve the golden fleece.”

I paused a second, then amended my answer, “so perhaps being a hero isn’t about benefitting others, it is instead about demonstrating certain characteristics, like strength, courage, and honor.”

“What about kindness, empathy, and loyalty?”

“Well, those seem like more womanly traits.”

“You do not believe a just man needs to be kind, empathetic, and loyal? And what is honor but to be just?”

I didn’t like the fact that I was being outsmarted by this big muscle boy. “But the primary qualities of men are not those such as kindness but is instead courage and the like,” I said.

“Perhaps, but can a man be courageous if he is not first loyal to his ideals?”

“Let us simply agree that it is best for a person to have both the masculine as well as the feminine traits?” I conceded.

“Yes we can agree on that, but that doesn’t answer the question…”

“Hey what’s your favorite hero?” I asked, wanting to deviate from the philosophical.

He paused, as if considering whether to entertain my motion to change the subject of our conversation. “Heracles,” he said.

“For his strength?”

“No, but for his purity of soul.”

“What do you mean? He once went mad and killed his family!”

“But that was Hera’s doing, not Heracles’. Listen, just think about it. Heracles was so strong and mighty that no king could have told him what to do or what not to do, this is unlike every other hero who was physically exceptionally but nowhere near the power of Heracles. Yet every time Heracles has sinned, he subjects himself to great penance. It takes great restraint and personal conviction to do that, for the mighty to subject themselves to the rule of others, only for the sake of the right. And that is what I mean, he may have strength of body, but it is his purity of soul that I admire.”

“I see,” I said, “speaking of using power with restraint, you know who that reminds me of?”

Pylades gave me a blank expression.

“You,” I said, “when the guards arrested me at the gate the first day we met, you told them to go easy, although you could have had them rough me up.”

Pylades chuckled, “Stop flattering me. I half wanted to have you flogged that day, but you were nice enough to come running after I fell that I changed my mind. Now, that’s enough about me, who’s your favorite hero?”

I thought for a second, and then gave the answer that I knew to be true in my heart. “Prometheus,” I said quietly. Pylades grimaced.

“That is a name to anger the gods,” he commented, “you do well to keep quiet, but why him? He is not even one that we sing songs about.”

“We have no songs written about him because he defied Zeus,” I said, “but that is the only reason. Prometheus is the one who gave mankind fire, and brought us out of the caves.”

“But in doing so he disobeyed the divine laws of the gods!”

“Yes, he defied the gods and their laws, but I would not call them divine. Look at Zeus who raped Europa, was that act divine? I think not. The gods did not create this world, but they were rather born into it. Their might makes right in our realm, but beyond the reach of the gods there is a law of justice which is eternal and unchanging, which exists independent of us or the gods. It is this law of justice that Prometheus followed when he gave mankind fire.”

Pylades was silent for a second, and for a second I was afraid that I had offended his pious sensibilities. Then he smiled, “if courage was the primary trait of a hero, then you definitely have an abundance of it,” he said. I felt my face flushing for some reason, but then quickly turned away. Just then, Queen Anaxibia showed up.

“Hello boys,” She said. We greeted him.

“I want to have a talk with my son if that’s possible,” She asked, not really asking.

I nodded, and took my leave. However, there wasn’t anywhere to go so I returned to find Pylades and his mother talking in a room. I know that eavesdropping was wrong but I was so curious about what their conversation was that I pressed my ear against the wall anyway.

‘…I really like him mother,” Pylades’ voice said, with heavy frustration, “I don’t understand why you keep trying to convince me that I shouldn’t get too close with him. Plus, we are just friends, and even if we were more that isn’t unusual at this age!”

“Listen, Pylades,” his mother said, “I am just saying…”

“You are not being honest with me are you? There is another reason, not something petty or stupid like how he might be leaving so I shouldn’t get attached. What is the real reason mother?”

My heart skipped a bit. I had no idea what in the name of the gods was going on!

“If you must know, Pylades, then I will tell you. But I didn’t want to since the true reason is so terrible. In fact, I am not sure if Orestes’ family has even made him aware of this. Are you really sure that…”

“Yes mom, tell me. I am ready for whatever.”

I was frozen still next to the wall now out of trepidation, a mixture of fear and curiosity. I wasn’t aware that I had some terrible secret that would keep Pylades from being my friend, and had no idea what his mother could possibly be talking about.

“So the truth, is that Orestes’ family, the house of Atreus, is cursed. Now shut your mouth and wait until I am finished. The great-great-grandfather of Orestes, his name was Tantalus, was the son of Zeus. At the time he was honored by the gods beyond all Zeus’ other moral children. The gods allowed Tantalus to eat at their table on Olympus, to taste nectar and ambrosia. In fact, they did more, they came to a banquet hosted by him; they condescended to dine with him. In return, he committed an act so atrocious that no poet ever tried to explain his conduct. You see, he was a jealous man and he had a deep hatred of the gods for their power. So he murdered his own son, Pelops, boiled him in a great cauldron, and served him up at the banquet. The banquet was hosted in honor of Demeter, the goddess of plenty, and so she took the first bite. But immediately she realized what she ate, and with that realization came the fury of all the gods. The gods decided on a punishment for Tantalus in Hades. He was to be in a pool of wine near a tree of fruits, yet when he tries to drink the water the pool would drain, and when he tries to catch the fruits the tree would stretch. Forever he is to be in hunger and thirst, with food and wine just out of hand’s reach.”

There was a heavy silence that filled the air.

“Umm…but that’s just one person, that’s not his whole house!” I heard Pylades say.

“But it is the whole house,” I heard his mother say, “after the god’s set the punishment for Tantalus, they reassembled Pelops and brought him back to life, and fashioned one of his shoulders out of ivory for Demeter has bitten that off. Pelops lived happily ever after, but he was the only decedent of Tantalus whose life was not marked by blood and grief.

Pelops’ sister, Niobe, married Amphion who was the king of Thebes. There he and Niobe ruled in content until she showed that the arrogance of her father lived in her. She had seven handsome sons and seven beautiful daughters, and she was queen, so she thought herself better than some of the gods. ‘You burn incense to Leto,’ she told her people, ‘and what is she when compared to me? She has but two children, Apollo and Artemis, and yet I have seven times as many. She was a homeless wanderer until of all places, tiny Delos received her, yet I am the queen of Thebes. From now on, make your sacrifices at Leto’s temple for me, not her!’

Such insolent words of course drew the ire of the gods, and so Apollo and Artemis descended from Olympus and killed all of Niobe’s children in front of her eyes, then they turned her into stone while she sat weeping, her eyes forever wet with tears.”

Another stretch of heavy silence came.

“And what about the sons of Pelops?” Pylades asked, strain in his voice.

“To Pelops, two sons were born,” Anaxibia continued, “Atreus and Thyestes. The inheritance of evil descended upon them in full force. Thyestes fell in love with his brother’s wife and succeeded in making her false in her vows. Atreus found out and killed his brother’s two little children at the time, cut them up, and had them served to their father at a banquet. And when Thyestes found out, there was naught he could do but to ask the gods to again curse his house, for Atreus was king.”

“And that brings us to the present…” Pylades said, voice weak. “For Thyestes was the father of Agamemnon, if I am correct.”

“Indeed you are, darling,” His mother continued, “The blood debt was not paid in Thyestes’ time, but it is being paid out now. You see, Atreus is the father of Aegisthus, the man who now lives with Clytemnestra, Orestes’ mother, at the palace of Argos. The gods have a wicked sense of humor, for infidelity is being repaid with infidelity a generation down.”

“And you are worried that blood will be repaid with blood as well,” Pylades said, “But Aegisthus doesn’t have children, maybe the cycle of hatred will end this generation? Maybe Clytemnestra will come to her sense and leave him?”

I could tell that he was pulling at straws, but even in my heart I wished too that mother could find sense and father forgiveness, and we can simply return to being a family again.

“Well, that seems unlikely,” Pylades’ mother said, “for blood was already spilled. This is not generally known, and I’d like you not to spread it. But when Clytemnestra left with Iphigenia, who was the eldest daughter of Agamemnon, it was not to marry Achilles. Instead, as Clytemnestra found out in surprise, Agamemnon has decided to sacrifice his eldest daughter. It is unsurprising that Clytemnestra did not take it well, and it has been prophesized that Agamemnon’s homecoming should be stained with blood.”

“You are not suggesting…”

“I am. I am suggesting that Clytemnestra will one day kill Agamemnon for his terrible crime. Then Orestes will be forced to kill his own mother. It would be a crime so abhorrent that the gods will…”

I sat down on the ground, not willing to listen more, and placed my face in my hands. That this was a lot to take in would have been an understatement. After a while, Pylades came out of the room and saw me. He rushed towards me, pulled me up, and we were out of sight as his mother exited the room. My mind focused on walking, not daring to think about the future. We later stopped under some trees, and although we were standing so close, we were separated by a silence that neither of us knew how to break. At last, I tried.

“I am sorry,” I said, “I really didn’t know. Please believe me Pylades, I would never wish to bring harm to you or your family, and I…”

I stopped because he pushed a finger onto my lips. “I believe you, Orestes.” He said. Those words calmed my churning stomach, but only for a brief moment.

“Well, now that you know, you probably want to stay as far away from me as possible,” I said.

He just looked at me, seeming to examine something about me. I in return stood uncomfortably, waiting for a cruel answer. “Remember what I said about Heracles’s purity of soul that I admired?” He asked.

I swallowed, and then answered “Yeah.”

“Well, it was not all talk,” he said. “I try to put such ideals in action too. Perhaps the reason of my mind tells me that I should keep away from you for my own safety, but the passion of my heart, my soul, tells me otherwise. It tells me that it would be better for me to keep you in my life, that you are the rare type of friend that does not come easily to anyone.” He forced a smile, and I tried to do the same.

“So, what do you say Orestes, best friends?”

“Yeah, and also, you can call me Ore.”

“Umm, Ore…that rolls off my tongue nicely,” he said, tasting the word in his mouth. “I don’t really have a pet name, but I guess you can call me Py.”

“Py.”

“Ore.”