#phaeacia

She sits atop a marble bench, brought from some faraway kingdom, working on her intricate needlework. Around the benches were curling hyacinths and creeping vines. It was Nausicaa’s favorite place. On fair days, like today, she could stay there for hours, working on handicrafts with her servants. 

From up here, she can see nearly every part of the island, and across the sea to the horizon. 

In the distance, but growing steadily closer, was a ship. Just a few days ago it had been sent out, laden with treasures and gifts, to drop off the shipwrecked Odysseus on his home island of Ithaca. It was still far off when it did something odd. 

It stopped. 

“That’s funny,” one of her handmaidens said offhandedly, and, thinking nothing more of it, she turned back to her needlework. The others shrugged, and continued their work as well.

Little did any of the girls know, the city below was in complete chaos. People were sprinting to the temples, sacrificing their most prized possessions. King Alcinous –her father– and all his advisors were gathered in the Temple of Poseidon, slitting the throats of a dozen of the best cows they owned. 

Nausicaa’s mother joined the king at the temple, but not before dispatching one of her handmaidens to sprint up the mountain to gather Nausicaa and her girls. 

Her name was Ophelia. She was close in age with Nausicaa, if a little older. That did not hinder their friendship. They confided in each other and used to play together when they were younger. Because of this, Ophelia knew the secret path up the mountain to the grove.

Normally, it would take thirty minutes to walk the whole way up. Ophelia ran it in ten. She reached the secret entrance, and pushed her way unceremoniously through the vines draped across it. 

Falling to her knees before Nausicaa, half from respect and half to catch her breath, she spoke.

“Princess Nausicaa,” she said breathlessly, “Your parents… They want you to go to the temple, Poseidon's Temple, and help with the ceremony. Something terrible has happened.” 

Nausicaa nodded, and said, “Tell us about it while we gather our things.”

“All due respect, Princess,” Ophelia looked up at her, “But there’s no time.”

And so they all ran down the trail as fast as they could manage. Soon, they were at the temple doors. The girls burst inside, and were dismayed at the sight that met them. 

Instead of the air ringing with praise of Poseidon, silence reigned. The room was filled with forlorn faces staring blankly ahead or else crying with their heads in their hands. The king and queen were a prime example of this duality. 

Queen Arete had a faraway look in her eyes, and Alcinous leaned against her shoulder, crying silent tears. Normally, he was as strong and stoic as they come, but whatever happened had shaken him to his core. 

“Father!” Nausicaa said. 

Alcinous stood, and embraced her like it was their last day on earth. 

“Oh, sweet daughter,” the king said, yes scouring her face as though he was trying to memorize every inch of it. 

“How lucky your two brothers are, married in some far off lands. They have escaped the fate we are sealed in.

“You see, my father prophesied long ago that Poseidon was angered by our helping travelers to reach home, and it seems aiding Odysseys was the straw that broke the camel’s back. We tried sacrificing many animals; bulls, cows, sheep, I even hear a family tossed their child to the waves. Sadly none of it has worked.”

“Father,” Nausicaa said, “You’re scaring me. Please, tell me what our fate is.”

“We–” He began, only to be interrupted by Arete, who had snapped back to reality the moment before.

“The Earth Shaker will enclose our city with mountains,” she said, “There will be no more trade, no more importing, no more assisting those who wash up on our shores. I fear some may die in the earthquakes that come with creating mountains. More will perish before we can grow enough food to feed the whole island. Phaeacia is doomed.” 

With that, the ground shook beneath their feet. Fear coursed through Nausicaa. She reached out for her parents, but a column crashed down between them, separating the family. Nausicaa was tossed backwards through the still open door by the next quake. Sharp pain radiated from her head as it whacked against the floor.

She could see the shore.

The edges of the island rose upwards, and, like the corners of a cloth being tied around a lunch, folded inwards till they met. Everything darkened as the sheets of rock blocked out the sun. A cavern formed over the city. Loose boulders crashed down around her as Nausicaa curled into herself, arms above her head with the hope it would protect her, and the knowledge that it wouldn’t. If a single stone landed on her, that would be the end.

Her ears rang, even after the cacophony stopped. 

The world was pitch black. Once her eyes adjusted slightly, Nausicaa could just barely see others covered in dust and rubble strewn around her. Some were still living. Many were not.

She recognized someone a few feet away.

“Ophelia?” She called, her voice sounding distorted, far away, and all too much like a scared child’s. 

She crawled towards her friend. Shards of pottery sliced her palms, but she brushed the pain aside. 

“Ophelia…?” Nausicaa said again as she reached her side. She grabbed her shoulder to roll her over.

“Are you alri…?” She began to ask, but upon seeing her friend’s expressionless face, unseeing eyes, and feeling how cold Ophelia was, she stopped. 

“Oh… Ophelia! No!” She sobbed. Nausicaa’s head bowed down against her friend’s body as tears ran down her cheeks.

She stayed like that for what felt like forever, although it was no more than a few minutes.  She was finally pulled out of her tears by the area slowly becoming illuminated. Coming towards her was a blond man carrying a flaming torch.

“My princess,” he said once he was close enough to be heard, “Please, where is your father? What has hap–”

“Give me your torch,” she interrupted, with such authority that the man obliged. Every trace of the crying teenager he’d seen just moments ago was replaced by a stoic leader. She ordered him to stay outside Poseidon’s Temple, and not to let anyone in, then she proceeded back into the great marble structure. 

After many minutes, she emerged, eyes slightly puffy. 

“My father is indisposed. My mother is dead.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you, but this is not the time. We have work to do,” she said, passing the torch back to the man. 

“What’s your name?”

“Xanthi,” he replied.

“Xanthi, we must save as many of our fellow Phaeacians as we can.” 

And so, Nausicaa and Xanthi gathered the able-bodied survivors and organized rescue efforts. Before, the royal family was somewhat distant from the everyday people, but now, as Nausicaa was hands-on bandaging wounds and giving orders, the people had never felt more connected to their leadership. 

Well, most of them. There was a small but vocal group that grumbled at taking orders from a woman – no, a girl. 

“She’s a child,” they said.

“Where is our king?”

“Who gave her this authority?”

“Must we listen?”

“Is King Alcinous safe?”

Nausicaa was close enough to overhear these mutterings, and after hearing one too many, she stood atop a ruined statue to address them.

“People of Phaeacia!” She called, her voice ringing throughout the cavern, “I hear your complaints, and I simply wish to assure you that the title of ‘ruler’ still firmly sits with my father. I am simply his liaison.”

“I still won’t take orders from a girl!” One man shouted. His remark was followed by a scattering of agreement. 

“If you wish, you may take your complaints up with my father directly. He’s just over in the Temple of the Earth Shaker.” 

The man started towards the temple.

“I would advise against it, though,” Nausicaa said, “Seeing as he’s constantly praying and bargaining with Poseidon, he may well be our best hope at being freed. I doubt he would enjoy an unnecessary interruption.” 

The man slowed his pace.

“He has not found any luck,” she continued, “Not even sacrificing a dozen bulls was enough. Perhaps my father believes Poseidon requires something more valuable. Maybe even a human.

“But by all means, if you think your concerns are worth rolling the dice, go right on ahead.”

The combined fear of human sacrifice, and the reassurance that King Alcinous was still governing was enough to soothe any feathers that Nausicaa had ruffled.

A few days passed. The rubble had stopped shifting, and all who could be saved were. No one had a good sense of day or night, so to standardize meal times, Xanthi suggested the survivors all eat together. This also helped to lessen the stress on the waning food supplies.

There were stores of grain on the island, and everything from fruits to exotic meats down by the ports, but the whole layout of the island was messed up when it was turned into a cavern, so no one knew where they were. Nausicaa organized parties to scout out areas to collect food and supplies. She even took part in expeditions, when she could.

Currently, Nausicaa and a few others were mapping out the area to the south of the town. This is where her father’s house had once stood, in Athena’s grove. Nausicaa had many fond memories of playing in the grass and trees there. What she most remembered, and hoped was still there, was the spring. 

Having a secure source of fresh water would open so many new opportunities for the Phaeacians. No longer would they have to set up buckets to catch what few, stale drops fell from stalagmites. 

When they entered the grove, Nausicaa saw a woman, easily twenty feet tall, decked out in full battle gear. Her eyes glowed. No other members of Nausicaa’s group seemed to notice the goddess standing before them. 

She maintained eye contact with Nausicaa and pointed her towards a thick tangle of plants with the bronze tipped spear she wielded.

Nausicaa pushed apart the bushes and found the spring, tucked away from view behind the brambles. A wave of celebration ran through the little group, but Nausicaa remained entranced. She saw the figure – who she guessed was Athena – beckoning her to look deeper into the waters. 

Nausicaa knelt by the spring’s edge, and looked in. A strange tangle of vines lay at the bottom, with a glowing center. She delved her hand into the water. After fishing around for a few moments, her hand closed around the light source. The moment she did, Athena smiled and vanished into a cloud of mist.

She pulled out the bright ball, and saw it was a fruit, of all things! It looked like a pomegranate, only orange and glowing enough to light up a room.

There were more, deeper in the depths, so she ordered Xanthi to dive in and retrieve a few. 

“The gods have blessed us,” she said, staring at the fruit in wonder, “Athena must have taken pity on us, entombed while still breathing, and placed this beacon of hope in her spring to give us a fighting chance.”

Silence fell as they all marveled at the fruit. It was only broken by the splashing behind them as Xanthi went into the depths again and again. He hauled himself onto the grass.

“I think that’s all we can carry,” he said. “It’s almost uncanny. I dove down again and again, each time taking an armful of fruits, and yet the number of them at the bottom seems to stay the same. Princess, what exactly are these?”

“This,” Nausicaa said, looking up at the others and finally cracking a smile, “Is the solution to our problems.” 

Mere weeks later, the dismal damp cave had turned into a wonderland of ethereal lights and abundant food. The fruits thrived in water, and multiplied quickly. They were delicious, and the overwhelming amounts of them led to creative uses. 

Farmers strung them high on poles above their plots, to provide light for their crops in lieu of the sun’s rays. They were non-flammable, so there was no danger in leaving them unattended.  Long strings of them were stretched between buildings and across streets. These served as lighting, and a place to dry them. After a few days, they would lose their glow, but that was fine since they tasted better that way.

Artists, yes this inverted island still had artists, figured out that they could be ground into a fine paste and used as a glowing paint. This light lasted much longer than the whole fruit, but was fainter. 

Because she was the one to discover the fruit, Nausicaa was given the epithet ‘Bringer of Light.’ Her rule was not questioned again, even when she held a funeral for her father soon after she came to power. She reigned with a fair and just hand, until her natural death, decades later.

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