Jason stepped with infinite care. He had waited at the threshold of the tomb, hoping his eyes would adapt to the darkness. But in vain: he could make out nothing. Only the sensation from the tentative sliding of his bare feet revealed anything about his surroundings. Sand, no obstacles; his outstretched hands encountered only air.
This was where Elysus dwelled. His tribe forbad entry to this portal of the god. Those who entered never returned, the sages taught. Yet here he was, entering this forbidden space, driven by an imperative to know. Elysus, surely, could help him. Or kill him. It was a risk he must take. His hesitant progress continued unhindered.
Suddenly a flash blinded him. He fell to the ground, stunned. A harsh drumming sound burst around him, almost deafening him, and he could just make out a voice: commanding, insistent, in the cacophony that now filled the cave. ‘Mortals may not enter this place. Why do you break the taboo?’
Jason attempted to speak, but his throat seemed closed, and how would he be heard, even if he could utter a sound?
The voice came again, louder now, ‘Speak mortal, speak! I am Elysus, why do you presume to enter my domain? Do you count your life for nothing?’
Recovering his voice and struggling to a supplicant position, sand clinging to his clothes, he answered. ‘Great Elysus, I have no right to be here, that I know. But I must have your counsel. Only you can see and command the future. The future of my tribe, which worships you, seems bleak. I have been chosen to speak with you and seek…’ His voice trailed off as the din ceased as abruptly as it had begun, replaced by a profound silence, into which the god spoke again.
‘You are Jason, and I know of your election to speak for your tribe. You have done wrong to enter here. Yet speak more, and I may listen.’
Jason lifted his eyes and looked around. The stunning flash had been momentary, and all was blackness again. In quavering tones he spoke into the space. ‘Great Elysus, we are challenged by the Wilubrie tribe, who say we must give them the grain we have just harvested or they will do battle with us. They are much greater than we are and any battle would surely end in our defeat. They would kill us to the last man, woman and child. What should we do?’
Silence. Then the drumming returned, quieter now. Jason’s heartbeats added their own insistent drumming in his head. Slowly the drumming in the cave ebbed into silence. A silence that was more unsettling than the drumming. Finally, Elysus spoke. ‘You need have no fear of the Wilubries. I will send a pestilence. They will not fight you. Now go, and never presume to enter here again. Speak no more. Go.’ Jason stood, turned, and found his way lit by a faint glimmer on the sand. He hastened to the opening of the tomb and was gone
Burnside Writers Group 