The story of Lyra the Lyre was a strange, and different one. So misleading that no one really knew what to think of it. It wasn’t much to do with the Lyre itself, other than the instrument charmed many others. Orpheus was the main one in the story, and his love Eurydice. Anemone’s ears turned when she heard Rhaegal’s voice, a smirk crossing her face. “Well, lets see. Up the sloping path, Orpheus moved, through the mute silence they continued their journey up the steep dark track. They were wrapped in what seemed like impenetrable gloom, till they almost reached the surface of the earth. Here, anxious in case his wife’s strength be failing, and eager to see her, Orpheus looked behind him. And straightaway, Eurydice slipped back into the depths. He stretched out his arms, straining to clasp her arms, but the hapless man touched nothing but yielding air. Eurydice, now dying a second time, utter no complaint against her husband. What was there to complain of? That she had been loved? With a last farewell which scarcely reached his ears, she fell back into the same place from which he had tried to rescue her.” She paused, knowing that the end of the story wasn’t very pleasant to hear. “I don’t want to frighten you with this next part, it’s not the nicest of things to hear, so forgive me if it upsets you.” She sighs, looking up into the sky where she can spot Lyra from there, the horseshoe shaped harped instrument that had charmed so many in a short span.

“According to Ovid, not all believe this to be true, mind you. Orpheus was so heartbroken from loosing his love, not once, but twice. That he had begun to reject the company of all women in favor of that of small boys. The women of Thrace were infuriated and while, maddened during the Bacchic rites, hurled rocks at the bard. The rocks, tamed by the sound of Orpheus’ lyre, at first fell harmlessly at his feet, but the shrieks of the infuriated women soon drowned out the music. The women dismembered Orpheus, throwing his lyre and his head into the river Hebrus. The muses gathered up his limbs and buried them. And finally, Orpheus joined Eurydice in the underword to spend the rest of eternity with her. Jupiter himself cast the bard’s lyre into the sky, to forever remind those that music can charm, but it doesn’t change fate.” She sighed, her eyes looking back to Rhaegal, wondering what his mind would make of the mess that Orpheus had caused in the end. “do you think he made a wise decision looking back before they fully emerged from the underworld? Do you think he ever really forgave himself?”

eleven - by camelot out of laila - female - spirane