A Swallow in the North (Greek Mythology) - Chapter 2

The moment Yan Beibei opened her eyes, she knew something was wrong.

Even if she had been severely overworked and sleep-deprived to the point of waking up with slight numbness in her limbs, it would never feel like this a total loss of control over her hands and feet.

No, rather than “losing the ability to move,” it was more accurate to say that while her mind was crystal clear, not a single part of her body followed the commands of her brain.

What on earth was happening?

Just as she was spiralling into a panic, completely bewildered and unsure of what to do, a pair of warm, soft hands picked her up. Delicate silk, carrying a slight chill, brushed against her tender skin. Suddenly, a wave of lethargy washed over her like a tide, drowning her senses.

She struggled to lift her eyelids, only to discover that her body had undergone a drastic “downsizing.” The skin on her arms and torso was so soft and smooth that pores were nearly invisible. Compared to the person holding her, the difference was staggering.

The woman holding her was clearly a person of leisure and high status; the skin on her hands was refined and entirely free of callouses. Even so, her skin looked considerably “older” than Yan Beibei’s.

After all, is there anything in the world softer or more delicate than the skin of a newborn?

This explained why the woman’s movements were so cautious and full of maternal love, yet strangely clumsy. Having lived in a high position for a long time, she rarely had prolonged contact with her own children. Such mundane tasks were usually handled by specialized servants to ensure the noble woman didn’t have to expend a drop of her own energy. Even with a heart full of motherly affection, she had to yield to the constraints of her image and status.

O Queen, someone nearby whispered a reminder. You are the Queen of Thebes, of such noble standing. Why deign to perform such tasks? As is the custom, let us handle it.

Yan Beibei could hardly believe her ears. In the next second, the woman’s response shattered any lingering hope of a mistake:

“Amphion is about to return from the Muses. I shall take Philomela to welcome him.”

If that weren’t enough, only someone like Yan Beibei—who had read Greek mythology extensively and even conducted research on it would recognize the gravity of this story. The Queen’s next sentence made it blindingly obvious:

“Where are my seven brave and handsome sons? Where are my six beautiful and gentle daughters? Summon them all to welcome their father back from his campaign.”

Yan Beibei wished she could just close her eyes and faint. At least if she were unconscious, she wouldn’t have to face this. This story was legendary; anyone who had read a complete volume of Greek mythology knew it well.

Niobe, the Queen of Thebes, married Amphion (who possessed a lyre gifted by the Muses) and bore him seven sons and seven daughters.

She could have lived a life of perfect bliss. However, she committed the ultimate hubris by insulting Leto the mother of Apollo God of the Sun and Prophecy and Artemis Goddess of the Moon and the Hunt. Consequently, her fourteen children were all struck down by the arrows of the two enraged deities. Not even the youngest daughter, whom Niobe shielded desperately in her arms, was spared. Niobe herself was consumed by such grief that she turned into stone.

In short, if Yan Beibei didn’t do something, she the child known in the annals of Greek mythology only by the title “Niobe’s youngest daughter” was destined to die. She wouldn’t even live to grow up; she would perish right there in her mother’s arms.

But Yan Beibei was powerless. Currently, she was just an infant who couldn’t even speak. She could only watch, filled with anxiety and dread, as her seven brothers and six sisters surrounded Niobe to go and greet their father, Amphion of Thebes.

“Look, my child,” Niobe whispered, holding her. She had wrapped Yan Beibei in an expensive, magnificent swaddle made of thick, soft fur and silk. Taking the babbling infant up to the high walls of Thebes, she pointed at the bustling crowds below and the formidable stone fortifications.

“This is our country. This is Thebes. This kingdom will one day be placed in the hands of your brothers, and it shall be your greatest protection in the future.”

Yan Beibei forced her eyes open and saw the mixture of pride and self-satisfaction on Niobe’s face. To be fair, Niobe had the pedigree to back up her ego.

Niobe’s father, Tantalus, was once the only mortal invited to feast at the banquet of the gods. Her husband, Amphion, had received an exquisite lyre from the Muses; when he played it, massive stones moved on their own to form the walls of Thebes. Amphion had used this city as his dowry to marry Niobe, the daughter of Tantalus and Dione the sister of the Pleiades.

Furthermore, she was a direct descendant of Zeus, the Father of Gods. Genuine divine blood flowed through her veins. This gave her arrogance a foundation; in all of Thebes, no one possessed a lineage noble enough to contradict or suppress her.

Because of these links between the mortal and divine, the Queen of Thebes grew increasingly convinced that her life was flawless and worth boasting about. Even when speaking to her youngest daughter, she maintained a tone of high-born majesty.

Logically, Philomela as Yan Beibei was now called shouldn’t have been able to understand her. Niobe could have dropped the unnecessary flowery language and the regal airs, but she didn’t. When one wears a mask for too long, it becomes difficult to take off.

“When you grow up, you shall be the little princess of Thebes. All the heroes of the world will hack through thorns and cross mountains just to wed you.”

Yan Beibei: No thanks. I just want to survive. Can you at least let me live long enough to learn how to talk?

Unfortunately, she was still mute.

Even though her mind was filled with a thousand words each capable of hitting the mark regarding her fate and the future of Thebes she could say nothing. Since she had no knowledge of the script of this era, the young Yan Beibei could only make meaningless baby noises in Niobe’s arms. After welcoming Amphion home, she was handed over to attendants and followed behind the arrogant Queen, who was draped in fine silks and gold, as they moved through the crowded streets.

Often, when we pray with all our hearts for something bad not to happen, it only seems to accelerate its arrival.

The Fates, who love to play tricks on mortals, must have a twisted sense of humour. They seem determined to deliver bad news right to the doorsteps of those who least want to hear it.

Take right now, for instance: their procession was blocked by a massive crowd of women.

“What is the meaning of this?” Niobe was livid. She had assumed these people were there to welcome their King, but to her shock, every woman in the crowd wore a sacrificial garland on her head and held unlit cedar wood in her hands. Not far away, clean offerings had already been placed upon an altar.

Clearly, this lively crowd and their festive spirit were not for the “King’s Return.” It was a festival for a goddess. This infuriated Niobe, who was famous for her vanity and beauty. She snapped at an attendant standing nearby:

“Go and see! Come back and tell me whose altar that is!”

The trembling servant soon returned with the news:

“Noble Queen, it is Manto, the daughter of the prophet Tiresias. She means no offence today, nor did she intend to block your carriage. She is performing the monthly rite, calling upon all the women of Thebes to worship Leto and her twin children—Apollo, God of the Sun and Prophecy, and Artemis, Goddess of the Moon and the Hunt.”

This answer did nothing to quell Niobe’s rage. On the contrary, hearing Leto’s name made her look even more haughty and condescending.

“Mere Leto? The unknown daughter of an old Titan? She even has to share her divine power over the night with her sister Asteria. She has but one son and one daughter! How dare her insignificant followers block the carriage of the Queen of Thebes?”

Stop the carriage. I shall go and meet her.

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