Minthe

Remembering Leuce.

He was truly a remarkable beauty. I can still see him clearly. Tall as a flagpole with exceptionally broad shoulders. His wheat-colored skin, washed by sea foam, always remained fresh. 

His eyes, a mixture of green and blue, changed colors like the surface of the sea or river at different times. And that hair. His hair was so black it gleamed blue when it caught the light. 

When he let it down, it flowed all the way to his thighs. He was a young man who exuded the aura of a lost wild horse. His untamed wildness proved his purity.

Was he one of the sons of the ocean? Being a descendant of the former Titans who had lost their power, he was born mortal. Ironically, I think that very fate was what made Leuce beautiful. 

Someone destined to die and disappear. There was no one the god of death would treat more generously.

Leuce was very similar to him. In terms of falling for her. But he knew his place, knew his lifespan, and was less brazen and less arrogant than him. 

He didn’t dare hope for his affection to be returned. He knew he was merely an insignificant creature compared to the ruler of the underworld.

I find it natural that she pitied Leuce. I wasn’t jealous or envious at all. 

I think it’s also natural that she kissed Leuce, who eventually died of lovesickness, and transformed him into a white poplar to keep by her side. He knew his place. He deserves that much reward.

But Demeter’s son?

He isn’t even destined to die. He’s not some faded old god but the child of Zeus who sits on the throne now and Demeter who grips the earth. 

Though raised as a girl in his mother’s embrace, he will someday choose his divine powers and take his place among the gods. Understanding his place? That’s precisely the problem. 

Without taking excessive pride in his birth, how would he dare trouble the ruler of the underworld with his inappropriate courtship?

One night, just one night.

It was merely like drinking bitter medicine or lancing a boil. That’s all. Just, just that one night. It means nothing. If anything, the kiss she gave to Leuce was far more noble and much more tender.

She doesn’t love him.

She doesn’t love anyone.

That alone is the doctrine and faith I’ve believed and followed. It’s the truth proven throughout countless ages.

“I should have prevented him from entering her chambers.”

The white poplar remained silent. I didn’t expect an answer either.

Only darkness and stillness surged through the great hall. Even the sobs of the dead had long since departed. It was clear she wasn’t present.

So I too should rightfully leave. I must offer the bouquet and palm leaves I’m holding to her. But it wasn’t urgent. Or perhaps I just made that excuse because I wanted to see the white poplar alone.

I moved out of habit. I laid out the things I had gathered at the foot of the throne. I don’t know what’s happening on the surface. But it doesn’t seem like there’s a festival going on. 

There was no flour, honey, or animal sacrifices at all, and even the plants offered as sacrifices had withered. Father said the rivers on the surface had dried up, making it quite difficult to bring offerings to the underworld. 

What could be happening? Father remained silent about the reason, but I’m not a fool. How could I not know that a goddess who lost her child has gone mad?

“No matter how immature and foolish, to behave like a cat in heat. It’s my negligence.”

I gaze at the silent throne. I gaze at the white poplar embracing the throne.

I remember how Leuce looked at me. He knew. That even after he died and disappeared, I would always be here, protecting her. 

He didn’t envy me because he didn’t even have enough time to adore her. Perhaps he couldn’t. To her, he was just a pitiful sea man, but I was her most faithful attendant. 

Then and now, always. Forever.

How can it be so unfair?

That each has been given their measure, and can never exceed it. How must I confirm so tragically that this too is fate, just like the love branded on my heart? Why does he naturally possess what I couldn’t wish for even in my dreams?

He doesn’t care or appreciate what he has. He just complains and grumbles that his mother raised him as a daughter. If only my mother could be Demeter and my father Zeus, I would have followed obediently even if I was raised as a dog, not a daughter. 

What does it matter? Clothes can be changed and names can be replaced, but one’s birth cannot. What matters?

Why can’t he be satisfied? Why does he endlessly whine and want more? This noble one who already has everything, why, why does he want her too?

“Leuce, do you blame me?”

The white poplar didn’t answer. I swallowed my next words.

What could I have done? What power does a mere son of a river have to stand against Demeter’s son? 

Yes, I insulted and mocked him. That was my only weapon. I just hoped he would tremble with shame and burn himself with anger. I prayed he would be unable to control his rage and leave the underworld on his own, returning to his mother who would take his side. 

But he didn’t. Despite being called a girl, he knew no shame and dared to invade her bedroom.

Leuce, do you know? What I was thinking? What I saw when I went to mix the coals in the brazier? 

Morpheus stopped me just then. What did he think of me? Did he think I would kick down the door to my master’s chamber? 

That’s a wrong judgment. I would never have done that. Even though I was sickeningly certain that he was inside the door, inside the room.

“Because I…”

I heard the sound of a door opening.

I wiped away the tears that were freezing my eyes. I won’t leave any trace. Because I am a son of the river. 

Who would dare enter the great hall, cold as a tombstone, so freely? Who could be so arrogant and confident? I turned around.

I had nothing more to lose.