“Lilith,” Thais said, barely moving her lips, unable to take her eyes off the painting.
“No,” Eris replied. “Lilith is kind. This one is death.”
The priestess raised her eyebrows when she heard them, and pointed at the right wall with agitation. The Athenian sighed in relief as she saw the embodiment of her dream.
The blue color scheme blended together the sea, the sky and the low horizon. Against this backdrop the goddess’ body assumed a pearly tinge of early dawn, when large stars still shone above and the opal sea splashed against rose-colored sand. Urania walked, barely touching the ground with her bare toes, reaching up to the morning sky, wind and clouds. The face of the goddess half-turned over her shoulder, looked both into the distance and at the viewer, promising comfort with the gaze of her eyes. These were gray, like Thais’. Light shone over her forehead and between her eyebrows, emphasizing, rather than competing with, the light in her eyes.
A time-blackened incense-burner fumed on a low altar before each painting.
“Were you told of the two faces of Ambologera?” the priestess asked.
“Yes,” Thais and Eris replied in unison, remembering their evening conversation with the temple’s philosopher.
“Neither the Olympian gods nor the Great Mother herself can avert the aging of a mortal body. All things in the world are subject to the flow of time. But there is a choice. It is before you. You may burn in the last fire of serving Aphrodite. Or you may transfer this fire to the all-encompassing love, leading toward heaven, serving Urania in tireless care about the happiness of those young and old. Place something that is not necessarily valuable but that is most precious to each of you before the goddess of your choice.”
Without hesitation Thais approached Urania, unclasped the chain sash with a single star given to her by Alexander and placed it on the altar.
Eris remained motionless. The priestess of Ambologera gazed at her in surprise.
“Is there no middle path?” Eris asked.
“There is,” the priestess said. She smiled and clapped her hands three times.
Heavy panes of the wall between the paintings opened slowly. A semicircular balcony overlooked a peaceful valley with vineyards, olive trees and a field of wheat. Men and women worked hard that cool morning, growing the fruits of Gaea-Demeter. There were quite a few elderly people, gray-haired men and women in heavy garments and dark head coverings.
“Peaceful labor in the quiet and serenity of the last years of life is a noble end of a farmer,” the priestess said.
“Then there is a fourth way,” Eris said.
“Why did you come to Ambologera?” the priestess asked, spreading her arms as if to stop Eris from going back to the sanctuary.
The black priestess, majestic, proud and solemn, appeared more imposing than ever to Thais. Her blue eyes gazed at the priestess with elevated confidence, but without daunting or mocking, and the priestess calmed down.
“Why do I need the insult of another faith?” Eris asked. “You showed three paths and all three are for lonely men and women. A person leaves the community of others only after death. There must be a way of serving people not just by means of personal perfection, but by direct action to their benefit.”
“Then you did not understand the depth of the symbols you saw. The middle path gives people food to sustain them, for a farmer always has more to feed an artist and a poet and thus increases the beauty of the world. The path of Urania is for a wise and gentle woman. It can only be expressed through love and care for others. That is what a woman must always do to achieve joy in her heart.
That is why Urania is an ideal woman and that is why Plato considered her to be the most important for the future of humankind.”
“And forgot about the perils and screams of slaves who give their lives to serve like beasts of burden so that Urania’s admirers could pour their love over their equally elevated fellows.” Eris replied angrily, causing the Athenian to stare at her friend in amazement.
“No!” Eris exclaimed, leaning forward like her statue of Acsiopena. “Heavenly Love and celestial peace are not possible over the corpses of the defeated or the backs of slaves. You, people of the west, who reached the heights of philosophy and flaunting your freedom, do not see the essential error in all your reasoning. You imagine power only through murder and sacrifice. Those who are more skilled in murder are stronger and, consequently, right. Such are your gods, your heroes and you. This is a curse of the Great Mother you shall bear to the end as long as the people of the west exist. That is why the second image of Ambologera, Urania, is a lie for poets and failed lovers.”
“What of the other image?” the stunned priestess asked hoarsely.
“The goddess of Dark Eros? There is truth in her, and I used to serve her with all the passion of youthful faith. It is a good path for those filled with animal power.”
“Or those who have yet to comprehend Urania,” Thais interjected.
“Thousands of years ago, the Great Mother appeared to people in the same two images — those of destruction and creation, death and eternity. Except eternity is not available to us, and we must not deceive ourselves and each other with that symbol of our heart’s yearning. It is but a way to conceal the cruel truth of the Great Mother. We all know, and this knowledge runs deep inside us, that eternal forces of nature are always ready to destroy. And we create in our dreams — exalted and pure, or lowly and dark — a multitude of gods and goddesses to protect us from the forces of the Great Mother, as one would try to hide from a storm behind a delicate curtain. The weak plead for miracles, like the beggars for money, instead of taking action and clearing their path by their own power and will. The burden of a free and fearless man is great and sad. And if he does not attempt to load it off onto a god or a mythical hero, but carries it himself, he becomes truly godlike, worthy of heaven and stars.”
The overwhelmed priestess of Ambologera covered her face with her hands.
“There is also eternal reincarnation,” Thais dared, uncovering the Orphic mystery.
“With the payment for the past when there is nothing you can do to correct it?” Eris continued. “I was taught the notion of Karma at Eridu and I came to believe in it. That is why the fourth path is so difficult for me. I could kill everyone who brings suffering to others, and who use falsehoods to lead people into the abyss of cruelty, and who teach them to kill and destroy supposedly for the benefit of humankind. I believe there will be time, when there are more people like me, and each would kill at least ten scoundrels. The river of human generations will become cleaner with each century until it turns unto a crystal clear stream. I am ready to devote my life to this, but I need a teacher. And not the kind of teacher that only gives orders. Then I would be a mere assassin, like all fanatics. I need a teacher to show me what is right and what is wrong, what is light and what is darkness, and leave the last decision to me. Can there not be a path like that? And I need a teacher who can tell a dead soul from a living one, and who knows who is unworthy of living on this earth another hour. In order for a human being to undertake the difficult duty of retribution, he must possess the divine precision of aim. Only the highest consciousness, reinforced by a wise teacher, can avoid that which always happens when force is used blindly. A healthy tree is cut, leaving a rotten one behind. Precious seedlings of future heroes are killed, allowing more room for human weeds to flourish.”
The priestess of Ambologera dared not look up under Eris’ burning gaze. Thais approached and embraced her friend, feeling each of her muscles trembling.