I was an object.

I was told this as a young girl, and these whispers still echo through my wandering soul, now residing in the lurid land of the breathless. I was an expendable entity, an item used only when required for household tasks, then placed back within the dusty cupboard, untouched and undesired until they saw fit. Who were they, you ask? They were my masters. They, the supreme and dominant sovereigns of the kingdom. Some of these leading matriarchs feigned worry and concern towards me, assuming the role of a motherly figure. These were fabricated acts, though, performances used to manipulate me, compelling me to obey their every command; however, there were others of royal descent who never even thought to consider my wishes and emotions. They seemingly believed I had no feelings, thoughts, or future, for I was an object. I was just a maid.

I was the daughter of Aigle, a young maid, and Argyris, a respected nobleman of the palace of Argos. Once my father had discovered I was truly his child, he resentfully rejected me, refusing to acknowledge me as his own. This lack of support and love from him forced me to grow up in the hands of my impoverished mother and to aspire to be nothing more than an insignificant servant.

I was, however, accepted by the father of my elder siblings, Chariton. He recognized me as his daughter and aided Aigle in caring for and raising me. I spent much of my childhood playing alongside my elder half-siblings, Melanthios and Melantho. Melantho and I were swiftly prepared for the duties of a royal maid and were taught to silently obey our master's wishes. We soon became the favored servants of the kingdom, gaining the titles “Melantho of the Pretty Cheeks” and “Astraia of the Radiant Eyes”; however, life was no simpler for us, for our kind and submissive character compelled the sovereigns to manipulate and control us, forcing us to labor from dawn to dusk.

I grew accustomed to the bleak ways of palace life, to the shadowy corridors of whispers, whispers of forlorn, despairing young individuals, and of secretive, disreputable regals. The kingdom was a place of the hidden and unrevealed, acting as a sanctuary for secrets. It was not an area of warmth, but of furtive citizens who created barriers between themselves and the destitute, consulting us only when they needed to be served and when guests needed to be accommodated. I grew wistfully familiar with this residence, finding consolation only in my dreams.

I found relief from the duties of a young maid with my family, this alleviation always reviving my childish spirits. I spent many of my days by my mother's side, escaping the infuriated voices of the the queen and her companions. Aigle taught me how to weave and cook, her nimble fingers creating a masterpiece no matter what the task. My mother was my blood and, despite the belief that blood is thicker than water, water always washes away blood.

It was a shadowy, somber day when the queen ordered my mother to venture into the city to retrieve several baskets of figs and dates from a farmer to prepare for the feast that evening. The king would be holding a grand banquet for the noblemen of the city, for there would soon be a contest for the princess' hand in marriage. She sent Melantho and I to accompany Aigle, for we would be of great help in fetching the bountiful baskets necessary to satisfy the hunger of the numerous aristocrats attending the feast. We swiftly strode along the stone pathways, traipsing through murky alleyways in order to avoid the commotion of the crowded streets of the kingdom. As we gradually made our way through the misty path, bloodcurdling screams for help began to echo against the smooth, damp stone walls. My mother promptly spun around, silently signaling to us to run in the opposite direction of the shouts. Evil was lurking much too closely.

Melantho and I obeyed, quickly scampering along behind Aigle with our petite, childish legs, our hearts racing rapidly. The screams ceased. Our running shifted to a silent trot in an attempt to escape the dark pathway, unnoticed by whoever lay around the sharp corner of the building beside us. Then the dragging began. It was a heavy, struggled dragging, the dragging of a very unwieldy object.
We continued to run along the stone path, our young legs growing tired from the great expanse we had traveled in such a short length of time. The sound of hauling drew closer, and the heavy breathing and panting of a man became audible. Melantho paused, gasping for air due to the great amount of time we had been running. The length of the alleyway was immense, for it ran behind the palace, as well as numerous large, stone houses belonging to noblemen. Tears began to well in her eyes. She had forgotten her beloved doll. Melantho had been given this by Chariton when she was just a baby and had not parted with it since. She began to run. Being only young child, she believed she could swiftly run in the opposite direction, retrieve her doll, and return to our mother in only a matter of seconds. Our mother did not immediately notice Melantho had halted, not until she realized that she could now only hear her soft footsteps, for I, too, had paused, not wishing to leave my dear sister behind. Aigle turned around, realizing Melantho had began to run towards the danger which we had been attempting to escape. She began to run toward us, frantically attempting to reach us. The noises made by the mysterious man grew dangerously close. My mother began to sprint, unwilling to leave her precious, sweet daughter to face the danger lurking ahead. She was slower, however, for her legs had grown heavy from the swift running her body had endured for the past several moments. Although still quite far from Melantho, she was determined to reach her, despite the great distance and peril which lay ahead. She was intensely determined, until she tripped.

Melantho turned around at the great clamor created by Aigle's fall. “Mother!” she exclaimed.
Salty tears began to roll down my mother's face, staining her pretty cheeks, as she watched the dangerous man appear from the shadows. “Theoklymenos?” she inquired. “What are you doing?”

Theoklymenos was the respected town prophet, whom the king always relied on to predict future wars and to help him decide which war strategies to take in order to conquer other empires. He slowly hauled the dark object towards my mother, a sly grin upon his face. “I, Aigle,” he replied, “have avenged my father.” Theoklymenos finally arrived at the area at which my injured mother lay, dropping the object before her.

My mother gasped. “Theoklymenos, how could you do such a thing?!” Before her lay a limp, cold Chariton, his eyes empty with death.

She began to weep uncontrollably, begging the gods to return his soul to his icy body.

Theoklymenos strode towards Melantho and me, a wicked sparkle in his eye. “It will not do that you have seen this occur, will it? You mustn't tell the king of this, or else I will be punished, although I was simply avenging my father. Chariton stole the flock of my father, and this act could not be dismissed. I suppose I must take care of this little problem of mine, as well,” he said, reaching to grasp Melantho's arm.

My mother looked up, peering into the evil, malevolent eyes of the man before her. “Run,” she whispered. “Run Melantho, run Astraia. Run!”

We regretfully did as she commanded, terrified of the scene which lay before our eyes. Our tiny legs carried us to the palace fast with the adrenaline which accompanies fear, allowing us to escape the malicious man who murdered our father, seeking revenge for the two sheep Chariton stole in order to provide us with food. We escaped the secretive kingdom and the infuriated shouts of Theoklymenos, never to hear the soothing voice of our mother again.

Melantho blamed herself for the tragic accident. She, Melanthios, and I refused to obey our masters, too stricken with grief to cook, clean, or labor. We never told our masters the identity of the murderer, for he had threatened to murder us as well if we revealed this information. The king grew angry with us and did not consider the fact that both our mother and father were murdered, for they were just servants. They were just objects.

He made the decision to send us to a foreign kingdom, for we were of no use to him or his palace any longer. This new beginning came as somewhat of a relief, as we would be able to escape the murky shadows of the palace, and the notion that Theoklymenos still lurked within the alleyways of the vast kingdom.

We were swiftly placed upon a boat with numerous other servants and were transported to the kingdom of Ithaka.

Ithaka was a dismal, dreary kingdom, for it rained often in this region. Its palace was not nearly as grand or elaborate as that of Argos, though its people were equally as demanding in their orders and commands as Argivian noblemen. Servants and maids were treated with the same degree of disrespect here as in our old kingdom, yet some masters in this palace feigned concern for our well-being; however, it was quite evident that this concern was untrue, for our masters still ordered us to labor strenuously from sunrise to sunset, regardless of our mental or physical condition.

When my siblings and I first arrived, the kingdom was lacking a ruler. Penelope, the queen, was still present, yet her husband, Odysseus, had been absent ever since he departed to battle the Trojans in the Trojan War nearly twenty years prior. Penelope called Melantho, ten other maids, and I to her side often, requiring consolation due to the loss she had suffered. There had been no word of Odysseus' condition, and she refused to believe he had been murdered in war or lost at sea. We were her only source of comfort. We, the objects, her only relief from sorrow.

We endured many years at the palace, the objects and I. Many days were spent cooking grand feasts, cleaning the nooks and crannies of the manor, and tending to the needs of the hundreds of suitors who would come to win Penelope's hand in marriage, consuming all her flock and herds, devouring the inheritance of her son, Telemakhos. She did nothing to prevent this from occurring, but rather sat within her room each day, weeping for her lost husband and sending maids to retrieve information pertaining to the suitors.

Penelope was rather consumed with her own worries, and very rarely did she spend time with her son, allowing Eurykleia, the loyal nurse maid of Odysseus, to tend to him daily. Telemakhos eventually grew apart from his mother, his emotional attachment to her deteriorating as he grew older, leaving them with no true, deep relationship. He, too, began to manipulate us, ordering us to obey his every word. Telemakhos was of our age, yet he was wiser, more knowledgable, and far more shrewd. He could control us, for he was our master, and we were his maids.

Many years passed, each day within the dismal palace more arduous and laborious as the previous. The impudent suitors continued to control and manipulate us, treating us as if we belonged to them, and as if we had no thoughts or emotions; however, these insolent individuals would never truly own us, for their lives would not continue long enough to earn Penelope's heart.

It was a somber, oppressive day when a peculiar, mysterious beggar arrived at the kingdom. He wore tattered clothing and spoke with the wisdom of a man who endured much hardship throughout his lifetime; however, the arrival of this man did not bring much joy to the palace, despite the great smile which appeared upon his face while spending time with Telemakhos. Once he had grown accustomed to the palace of Ithaka, he soon suggested Telemakhos allow his dearest friends to attend palace feasts along with the suitors, although this beggar truly had no authority within the kingdom. Telemakhos curiously agreed, inviting his beloved shipmate Peiraios to one of the grand banquets. Peiraios brought a guest to this feast as well. His guest informed us that he was known by the name Theoklymenos.

That evening, Melantho and I were forced to serve the malicious man who had stolen our comfort and joy long ago, despite our protest. We glared at him continuously, our fury seeping into his malignant soul. Evil emanated from within him, a repulsive smirk pasted upon his face.

Theoklymenos continued to attend the feasts, along with the mysterious beggar. We were forced to dwell within our enemy's presence, from dawn until dusk. He consumed Telemakhos' inheritance as well, behaving as if he were a suitor, yet he was accepted as a welcome guest. As revolting as he was, Theoklymenos even sat watching during the contest for Penelope's hand in marriage, peering through the crowd and cheering for those he believed deserved her most.

It was a grim, morose day on which Penelope decided to at last hold the contest which would determine which of the suitors she would marry. She declared that whomever was able to string the famed bow of Odysseus and release it through twelve axes would gain her hand in marriage. Exclamations of cheer surged through the gathering of suitors, for they had waited years for her to choose whom she would marry. The contest was swiftly initiated, yet it was soon apparent that it would not go as the suitors had anticipated; they soon came to the realization that the task of stringing Odysseus' bow was no task of ease, for it required the skill and wisdom which only Odysseus himself possessed. At this moment, the curious beggar spoke, inquiring if he might attempt to string the bow. The suitors grew furious at this request, for he was not one of the individuals worthy enough of becoming king of Ithaka and ruling over a vast empire; however, Telemakhos surprisingly approved of this and allowed the vagabond to proceed.

The strange man rose from his wooden stool, reaching for the bow. Gasps escaped from the mouths of the suitors, astonished by what the prince had just approved. The beggar, bow firmly grasped in one hand, strung the weapon with ease. He then turned it in the direction of Antinoos, a particularly impudent courter, and released the arrow. It was then announced that he was not the indignant vagabond we had initially supposed he was, but Odysseus, king of Ithaka returned.

Infuriated shouts arose from the gathering of suitors, each silenced by an arrow or spear of the king; however, I soon realized these enraged cries were tainted with unconfined, outrageous laughter. I swiftly spun around. It was the sly laughter of the soothsayer. The laughter of Theoklymenos.

“What on earth are you laughing at?” I exclaimed. “This is not a matter of laughing! There is a massacre before our eyes, and yet you laugh?”

“Oh, you would not understand, young maid,” he replied, an impish smirk upon his lips. “I knew this would occur. It is not something to despair. In fact, it will only benefit the kingdom.”

“How so?” I suspiciously inquired, unsure of the meaning of this vague, foreboding statement.

“Why,” he stated, chuckling, “it will allow me to claim my rightful position as king. With the suitors murdered, and Odysseus returned, I will be able to murder Odysseus and Telemakhos as well, allowing me to claim Penelope as my wife and Ithaka and all its treasures as my own. For, as you must know, I am a respected nobleman of Argos.”

I felt my face grow hot, my blood seemingly boiling. Swiftly I rushed into the maids quarters, for Telemakhos had already sent the maids away before the bloodshed began, yet I had not obeyed, wishing to view the contest. I soon caught sight of Melantho, and quickly pulled her from her work. “Melantho,” I said, my words rushed, “Theoklymenos is not merely a friend of the prince. He is just as evil as he was when residing in Argos. He just informed me of his plans to murder the prince and the returned King Odysseus! He mustn't have realized I am the daughter of Aigle, or else he would not have revealed this alarming information to me.”

Melantho's eyes grew wide, her pretty cheeks turning a shade of deep red. “What?” she exclaimed. “How could he do such a thing? He is just as malevolent and evil as he was when we were just mere children!” She sighed deeply, tears streaming down her face. “When did the king return?”

“He wore the ruse of the mysterious beggar and revealed himself after succeeding in stringing the bow of the king. Oh, if Theoklymenos truly carries out his plans, then he will eventually learn of our true identities! Who knows what punishments he will inflict upon us!”

Melantho's pretty cheeks were now stained with tears, and my radiant eyes now dulled by the sadness flowing from within my soul.

The screams of men in anguish ceased. A similar dragging sound to the one heard by Melantho and I the day our parents were mercilessly murdered became audible. It continued for quite a long while, until at last, this too, ceased, and Telemakhos came to fetch the maids from our quarters and to order us to begin to clean the bloody hall.

I wandered from our dim room, the shocking red now staining the walls blinding my dull eyes. I glanced across the hall, and caught sight of Theoklymenos. His malicious eyes sparkled, bringing back horrific memories of that dreadful day long ago. My heart beat rapidly, signaling to me to do as it told.

I slowly strode across the room, my legs becoming weak with anxiousness. I approached the long departed king. “Excuse me, my king. I...I have some essential and urgent news to deliver to you.”

He turned his body to face mine, his tall, kingly aura becoming overbearing. “Why, what must you bother me with? Shouldn't you be obeying my orders and cleansing my hall of the impudent souls of the courters? Oh, just be quick with it.”

“It...It is regarding one of our guests. Might I speak to you in private, King Odysseus?” I spoke, my voice quivering with fear.

“Oh, nonsense! You may speak to me here.” He replied sternly, leaving no possibility of negotiation.

“It is regarding...,” I paused, glancing towards the malevolent man leaning against one of the elaborate wooden chairs of the hall, examining a bloody sword used in the battle, turning it over within his rough hands, “it is regarding Theoklymenos.”

“Continue, young maidservant. Nothing regarding Theoklymenos can be that scandalous or shocking!”

“Well...earlier this afternoon, while you and your comrades took part in the battle against the impertinent suitors, Theoklymenos informed me that since the suitors were now deceased, he would make plans to murder you and your son, putting an end to your reign and claiming your throne as his own,” I spoke rather confidently, assured that the king would believe me, for I was one of his trusted maids.

Odysseus' face grew scarlet, his brows twisting into a tense knot. “What an outrageous accusation to make! Theoklymenos is our respected guest, and he shall not be accused of such things by a filthy maid! I demand your name!”

I paused, tears welling up in my radiant eyes, “My name is...Astraia.”

Theoklymenos looked up from the sword in his hands, eyes widened. “King Odysseus, master mariner, this maid here is a traitor! She accused me of such things in my home kingdom of Argos, as well. I demand, dismiss her, immediately!”

Odysseus grabbed hold of my arm firmly, grasping it as he pulled me towards the doorway. “We will have no such maids residing within my palace. You are an untrustworthy, filthy traitor!”

He continued to drag me out into the green fields, the rocky cliff by the seaside blurring out of my vision as tears streamed from my glassy eyes. “Please, my king, he is a murderer! He murdered my family long ago in Argos, and he plans to murder you!”

“I will believe no lies from a disloyal deceiver such as you! Your presence is no longer welcome in Ithaka!” Odysseus angrily replied, his grip on my arm tightening.

He proceeded to drag me towards Telemakhos, loosening his grip and handing me over to his son. Telemakhos then brought me to an area between two tall pillars, a rope strung between.

“Melantho!” I cried. “Tell them of Theoklymenos' evil doings! Tell them!”

Melantho came rushing from the great hall, hearing my frantic calls. But she was too late. My feet danced in the air, my radiant eyes dulled with the stain of death.

As for Theoklymenos, he did steal much of Odysseus' treasure over the following years, and ultimately attempted to murder dear Telemakhos.

But they did not believe the maids. The maids knew nothing, for they were filthy little traitors.

They did not believe me. I was a filthy little traitor. I was just an object.