The Colossus of Love and Rhodes

“Tell me, oh great Chares of Lindos,” Zortexion chuckled, “you can assemble great statues but you can’t find a snippy haired woman from Rhodes?”

Chares of Lindos didn’t respond. Instead he stared at the green clay model’s feet. It was a three foot model of the Godly statue Alexander the Great had bargained with him to build.

“Make it notable and shine like the god Helios.” Alexander had said.

The statue was to be assembled exactly like the god Helios, but secretly he had sculptured the mini statue’s feet to be like his love, Anothia. Short, stubby toes, imperfection made them beautiful. He had kissed them a thousand times. They were rooted in his mind.

“She isn’t from Rhodes.” Chares finally replied. “You know she belongs to Demetrius, and back to Demetrius is where she went.”

Zortexion decided the violent sensitivity of the subject was too much to respond and left to gather more bronze from the fallen war machines Demetrius had abandoned.

It was only two weeks ago that Anothia had pleaded with her dear Chares not to participate in the battle of Rhodes and Demetrius.

“It is more than a battle of saving this precious land called Rhodes,” whispered Chares. “But a mere battle of saving the one I love.”

“You cannot overpower him,” begged Anothia. “He is too powerful. He has men of many. I beg you to run away with me.”

But Chares, being the relentless man that he was and clouded in his heart with love of a woman, opposed her. So Anothia was to leave the land of Rhodes, going back to her land of Demetrius. Back to the crying and name calling and back to the evil, empty world Demetrius had set for her. Maybe this, just maybe this would stop Chares from making a suicide attempt foolishly blinded by love.

“The Earth will tremble and shake with my love for you when we shall cross paths again.” Chares swept his hand across her cheek, kissing her forehead and letting her go.

But Chares, being the relentless man that he was, stood and fought against Demetrius and his men. The battle was fierce, long and gruesomely bloody. Day after day, he watched his fellow Rhodians fall, blood pools of mess caked their hairs and stomachs. He still fought on, with the image of her burned into his mind.

Eight years and three days had passed from the day Demetrius withdrew from the endless war. So many years have gone by, sobbed Chares to himself, and yet she does not come still.

He could imagine her so clearly that he sometimes imagined a vision of her in the corner of his dark room. She would be chained to a wall, always in a worst scenario, in a punishment for disobeying the great Demetrius. She was being punished for love.

It’s all my fault. It’s all my fault.

Groans escaped from her weakened mouth, sloping herself over from dehydration.

I bet he is making her pay for what I have done. I should have never asked her to come to Rhodes. I should have never confessed my love. It is all my fault.

Formation of the wonderful god Helios was about two thirds complete. It stood proud on the edge of the Asia Minor, holding a cloak on its left hand. An empty mass of air hung where the spiked crown and the face were to be placed.

Chares had oared a wooden raft quietly into the waters, where the Aegean Sea kissed the Mediterranean. The colossus looked even more beautiful at night; small eerie orange glow beamed unto the bronze from the moon above it from shoulders to feet……

her
her
her

It is all my fault….

Foot by foot Chares climbed his colossus artwork. Eight years of Anothia thoughts gathered him enough strength to climb the one hundred feet of bronze that towered above him. It is all my fault…A few more feet and he would be standing atop of his own artistry.

There was Chares of Lindos, convicted insane by his own thoughts, standing atop of this statue of the god Helios, peering into its hollow shell.

jump…..

He eagle stretched his arms, and listened to his maddened mind for the last time. Seven seconds of free fall. Seven seconds of Anothia thoughts. Then a vicious thud echoed in the empty shell of the colossus statue of Helios.

The sun rose in a quiet thunder, lighting up the statue like a shiny penny. Construction continued as the townspeople interrogated the absentness of Chares of Lindos. As four years passed, the questions simmered to silence and the final bronze piece was put into place.

Fifty and six years had passed and the beautiful Anothia had aged eighty eight years. Demetrius had passed (much older then she was) and crossed over in spirit to the land of spirits, probably the land of evil spirits, she thought. She was finally freed; free from his unjust convictions.

A tiny boat broke into the horizon of the Asia Minor. Anothia had wondered for quite some years if Chares had moved on, if he had left Rhodes, or if he even was still alive. Proof of his existence fascinated her eyes as she caught sight of the colossus he had constructed. It was indeed beautiful; nude, wearing a spiked crown and shielding its eyes from the sun. She gasped from its magnificence as her boat began to pass and rise towards the shores of Rhodes. It was then that the earth began to tremble and shake like and angry horde.

CRAAAACK

A split crawled up the side of the colossus, forcing its way to the crown. Anothia huddled herself against the side of the boat, waiting for the tremors to cease.

CRAACRRRRRRK

The colossus’s head began to break at the neck until the crown was sloping oddly in a horizontal manner, finally crashing, rolling unto the banks of Rhodes and coming to a rest upon its cheek.

The Earth will tremble and shake with my love for you when we shall cross paths again….

And indeed it did…..