Temptation

Kallias Myron brushed aside the thick curtain of leaves that hung down from the lowest branch of the old, twisted oak. He gasped as his gaze fell on the apparently slumbering god. Ducking under the bough, he took another cautious step forward.

The brambles growing along the edge of the clearing caught at his toga, tearing the pure white fabric. Kallias barely noticed. A glance over his shoulder, and he saw the last few priests that made up the procession through the forest, disappear from view.

It wouldn’t be long before they reached the Goddess Artemis’ temple, before Kallias would be missed from among the initiates. There wasn’t another moment to waste. Kallias stepped into the clearing.

His feet were bare, as were those of all the men who’d been called to serve the goddess at the temple. His soles made no sound as he approached the sleeping figure. Kneeling as close as he dared to the god’s side, Kallias ran his eyes over the slumbering form, from his horns down to his toes and back again. Stretched out on the rocky outcrop, he was the most perfect thing Kallias had ever seen.

The pipes he’d so often heard being played as he made his daily trek from the initiates’ lodgings to the temple on the other side of the forest, lay silent at Pan’s side. Without thinking, Kallias reached and ran his fingertips along the instrument, stroking the same surface the god’s lips must have caressed hundreds of times.

Kallias’ hands weren’t his own to command right then. They appeared to believe they had permission to touch whatever they pleased. No sooner had they left the pipes, than his fingers reached towards the dark, curled horns that graced the deity’s head.