//------------------------------//
// VII 
// Story: The Lesbian: One Hundred Nights 
// by Undome Tinwe 
//------------------------------//

"Good evening, Lady Sappho. Will you be requiring an escort tonight?"

"Thank you, Golden, but no." Sappho gave the guard a weak smile as she stepped out of her bedchamber. "I am only going to be walking around the castle."

"Can't sleep?" Golden Shield asked, resting his spear against the ground once again.

She shook her head. "Stargazer placed a slumber charm on me earlier today, so I doubt I shall be able to sleep at all tonight."

"You know, you really shouldn't just let those chalksuckers cast whatever spells they want on you." A disapproving frown formed on the normally-stoic guard's muzzle. "One of these days, you're going to find yourself turned into a frog. Or an orange."

Sappho shrugged. "If that is what it takes for them to discover the way to send me back, then that is what must be done."

"It's your funeral, I guess." Golden inclined his head politely towards Sappho. "Enjoy your evening, Lady Sappho."

Sappho continued on her way, reaching the main hallway of the East Wing. In the past week, she'd achieved a modicum of understanding on how to navigate this Labyrinth of a castle, or at least the areas that the public was allowed to wander about in.

By now, she barely caused a stir among the servants and guards going about their businesses. A few heads still turned to stare when they thought she wasn't looking, but strange new creatures were common enough in this realm that most had simply accepted her after a few days of excitement.

Still, the ponies that surrounded her as she passed from corridor to staircase and back to corridor were unwelcome reminders of how far from home she was. Each time a unicorn lit up their horn to pick up some mundane tool or a pegasus took to the skies to play among the clouds, Sappho's heart ached for what she had lost.

She needed to escape these walls before they could close in completely on her. Quickening her pace, she hurried through a hallway lined with stained glass windows depicting various heroic deeds performed by the Princesses, not even taking the time to admire them as she approached her destination.

Finally, after passing through more rooms that this castle had any right to possess, she reached a small wooden door, barely large enough for her to fit through.

It was a servant's entrance that she'd found by happenstance a few days ago, and was commonly left unlocked for ease of access for the gardeners and other labourers who didn't want to fiddle with a key while hauling something heavy.

Sappho opened the door and stepped out into the cool night air. She had never seen the Royal Gardens under the moonlight before, but after beholding how the soft, muted colours of the flora blended together in the darkness, she knew she'd have to make a habit of it.

Since she'd discovered this place, Sappho had made the gardens her retreat from when she was overwhelmed by the wonders of this realm. The flowers and animals here were different, yet similar enough to those of her home to comfort her.

And today, more than any other day since she'd arrived in Equestria, she needed comfort.

However, it seemed she wasn't alone. The trailing notes that marked the end of a song drifted towards Sappho, delivered in a rich, melancholy tone. Sappho instinctively followed the sound as the voice piped up again in a lovely, wordless dirge, each rise and fall pressing against her heart like a vise.

Whoever was singing this midnight song was pouring her heart and soul into their craft, and she had to know who it was. The trees and blossoms and birds all faded into the background as every step brought her closer to that most wondrous expression of pure emotion.

Finally, she reached the entrance to the centre of the gardens. Taking cover behind a nearby tree, she discreetly peeked around its trunk, not wanting to disturb the source of the siren's song that had brought her here.

Sappho barely held back a gasp as she saw who it was.

Seated on a lone marble bench, Princess Luna held her head up towards the heavens as her mouth opened in heartfelt vocalization. The sadness that had pressed against her heart now threatened to crush Sappho as she beheld the stark beauty of the sight before her.

Princess Luna's eyes were closed, but her desolate expression still spoke volumes about her feelings. Sappho ached to reach out to her, to place her hand on that soft-looking fur of hers and tell her that all would be well. But of course, she could never be so presumptuous, and she could not bear to end that performance which was truly worthy of Divinity.

For a few moments, she simply stood in awe, locked in place by something not meant for mortal ears or eyes.

All too soon, however, the song ended, the last notes lingering in the air as a final reminder of what had been. Princess Luna's eyes opened, and Sappho quickly ducked back behind the tree.

"I know you are there."

Sappho froze, her breath caught in her throat as she dared not move a single muscle.

"There is no use in pretending, spy." The previous sadness had vanished from Princess Luna's tone, and she was every inch the stern royal demanding obedience. "Do not make me dislodge you, for I am not known for my gentleness."

Taking a deep, gasping breath, Sappho stepped out from behind the tree.

Princess Luna's eyes widened for a moment before a severe mask covered her face. "Oh, it is you."

Sappho bowed her head. "My sincerest apologies, Princess Luna. I did not intend to disturb you this night."

"And yet, that is exactly what you did." The princess let out a soft sigh. "No matter. 'Tis not as if I had an audience to disappoint." She patted the empty space on the seat next to her. "Come, Sappho of Lesbos, and sit, so that we may talk."

There was nothing for Sappho to do but obey. She was glad that summer had already begun, for the marble bench was cool to the touch. She felt a chill spread up her spine, but that was likely due to her proximity to the lunar goddess. This close, she could feel the warmth radiating from her coat despite positioning herself as far away as she could on the bench.

"I have only just returned from the Badlands," Luna said, "and have had little time to exchange pleasantries with my sister. Have you had many chances to speak with her yet?"

"We have met thrice since our first meeting, Princess," Sappho replied.

"And have you had any luck in finding a way home yet?"

"Not yet." Another pang of homesickness wracked her heart. "The Arcane Society has made it their first priority, however."

Princess Luna scoffed. "No doubt they saw a new phenomenon and are salivating over the prospect of being the first to study it. Still, I wish you best of luck. It is never easy to be separated from one's home."

"Thank you, Princess."

Luna frowned, glancing downwards at the space between them before sighing. "It is as I suspected. You fear me as well, Sappho of Lesbos."

"Princess?" Sappho's heart beat loudly in her chest as she gazed into the mournful eyes of Princess Luna.

"Leave me, if you wish," the princess said abruptly. "You have done no wrong, and I will not keep you here if that is not what you desire."

Anyone with a modicum of sense would have immediately left her alone. Princess Luna clearly didn't want Sappho here, and every moment with the mercurial goddess was another chance that she would cause offence and suffer the same fate as Arachne or Medusa.

And yet, in that moment, Princess Luna looked to be a mare of contradictions. Power flooded from her lithe frame, and an otherworldly light shone in her eyes, a hint of something beyond mortal comprehension.

But it also shone with a sadness that could not be comprehended by one so young as Sappho, and memories of the keen loneliness that had permeated every note of the goddess' song danced about in her head.

Yes, Princess Luna was powerful, and Sappho had no doubt that she could and would smite her before Sappho even knew how she had offended her. But she was also in pain, and needed someone to be with her. Sappho knew that feeling that all too well, now.

Steeling herself, she made her choice.

"I do not wish to return to my room yet, Princess." Sappho bowed her head in a show of deference. "If it is not an imposition, I should very much like to continue enjoying this garden."

She spared a glance upwards at Princess Luna, and saw her eyes widen in surprise. "Why?" she asked bluntly, schooling her features into a poor imitation of her sister's mask of detachment. "I can sense the fear within you. You cannot deny that."

"I do not, Princess," Sappho replied. "It is right to fear you."

"Is that truly what you believe?" The Princess sounded hurt, of all things. "I had hoped, since you were not of this realm..." she trailed off awkwardly, leaving behind a silence that she seemed to expect Sappho to fill.

"Of course," Sappho replied. "You are the Goddess of the Moon. You wield the same power that Artemis does in my realm."

"Tell me of this Artemis," Princess Luna said. "It has been many a century since Bellerophon spoke of those which you call gods."

"Artemis is the Goddess of the Moon, and of the Hunt, and many other things." Sappho tried to remember all the stories she had heard. "She has tamed and hunted nearly every type of wild beast, and her skill with bow and arrow is without peer. Each night, she also drives the chariot containing the Moon across the skies."

Princess Luna raised an eyebrow. "That sounds most exhausting," she declared. "I am glad to have my magic to take care of the matter from the ground."

"It is not my place to question the will of the gods," Sappho replied.

"Is your Moon Goddess such a tyrant that you fear to speak out against her?"

"Artemis is quick to anger, like all of the gods," Sappho explained. "It is wise not to offend her. Adonis once boasted that he was a better hunter than her, and she sent one of her wild boars to kill him. Actaeon saw her bathing in the nude, and she had him turned into a stag and torn apart by her hunting dogs."

Princess Luna's face twisted in disgust. "And you worship such a cruel ruler?"

Sappho shrugged. "We dare not risk her ire. By our sacrifices is she appeased, and she has taken many a maiden into her safekeeping."

The disgust did not leave her expression. "Oh, she likes maidens as well? I did not realize she was depraved in that way."

"What? No!" Sappho sputtered, a blush forming on her cheeks. "She would never do that! Artemis is the Virgin Goddess, and values her own chastity so greatly that she asked her father Zeus to make her forever a virgin."

A snort escaped from Luna, to the surprise of Sappho. "I suppose that is as good an explanation as any. And now I've found an immortal more worthy of pity than myself."

"I do not understand," Sappho said carefully. "You are great, and possess both power and rulership over your kingdom. I can think of no one less pitiable in this realm."

Princess Luna barked a harsh laugh. "What about my sister?"

"She is your equal, no?" That had been what Princess Celestia had said, and the twin thrones in the Castle spoke truth to that.

"'Separate but equal,' I believe our compact says." Princess Luna scoffed. "With my sister, 'first among equals' would be more apt. She is the one beloved in all the realm."

"I am certain that the ponies of Equestria love you as well." Sappho knew she had made a mistake as soon she said the words, and Princess Luna's eyes narrowed at her.

"Do not seek to patronize me, Sappho of Lesbos," she growled. "You have stayed in the Castle long enough to know that the ponies all speak my sister's name with reverence, and wish only to please her. Meanwhile, if my name is spoken at all it is done so in a whisper, to ask how they might placate me.

Her voice rose, and Sappho felt like a doe caught in the sights of a lion. "When I went to the Badlands to investigate rumours of a plan to breach Tartarus, I was reminded that I could only be heard if I resorted to force or threats of violence. I am little more than the Kingdom's attack dog, a rabid hound used to cow our neighbours. Am I so wrong to wish for the same respect afforded to my sister?"

Sappho knew the question was not meant to be answered, that the Princess was simply raging at her misfortune. She was but a mortal, and a goddess like her had no need of her wisdom.

And yet.

She could not simply stand by while this mare tormented herself, no matter their difference in status. The risk was great, but her duty to help another was greater.

"You are not your sister, Princess." With luck, both realms would share the same afterlife, and she would be reunited with her family in Hades' realm after Sappho was struck down for speaking out of turn. "It would be foolish to reach for what she has, instead of nurturing what you possess."

"What do you mean?" Princess Luna sounded more curious than offended, a good sign for Sappho's continued health.

"In my realm, Artemis is not Apollo," she said, her voice growing stronger as she felt the fires of her heart growing hotter with blood. "And none would wish her to be. Apollo is the God of the Sun, of music and healing and prophecy. I myself have made offerings to him for inspiration, for he is also the God of Poetry and has influence with the Muses.

"He delights in the Law, and in the founding of new cities. He builds and defends and we worship him as a shepherd and as a pillar of Order. He is known for his many lovers, for there are many who love him.

"And yet, though he is the Sun, he is also cold. He is like stone in his unyielding devotion to the Law, and Mercy finds no succour in his heart. I sometimes wonder why he is the God of Poets when he seems to lack the passion that drives their craft." Sappho paused for a moment to ensure that she would not be struck down for speaking ill of the Sun God. "Though we love him, we can only but see him as a Father to us all."

Princess Luna leaned in closer, curiosity dancing in her eyes, which now looked much younger than they had before. "And what of Artemis?" she asked.

"As Apollo is as the unchanging Sun, so is Artemis like the inconstant Moon." Sappho looked upwards and saw the crescent Moon shining its light down on them, illuminating the symbol that bore its likeness on Princess Luna's shapely flank. "When night falls, her hunt begins.

"She is wild and, though she has never known the touch of a man, she possesses a passion that burns with quicksilver fluidity. She is jealous and prone to fits of wrath, yet also capable of much love.

"When her hunting companion Orion was killed, she placed him in the stars to remember him by." Princess Luna's eyes widened at that, and for a moment she looked older than the mountains once again. Still, she said nothing, which Sappho took as permission to continue.

"We celebrate her warrior spirit and give offerings to her before battle. Many tales are told of the men who tried to claim her, and how she killed them for their insolence. Maidens from across the land seek her protection, and woe befalls those who harm those under her care."

A butterfly landed on Princess Luna's back, and the Princess was so still that it was not disturbed, it's wings flapping to show a pair of eyes etched onto their membrane. Sappho forced herself to ignore the entrancing sight and continue her speech.

"Unto Artemis do we give our maidens, and unto Apollo our women. We do not thank Artemis when a skilled bard graces us with his presence, nor do we pray to Apollo when our hunters go out to hunt."

Sappho smiled hesitantly. "Princess Celestia said that your domain was the Night, and all the activities that took place under the cover of darkness. Love and passion and dreams and art and music. And poetry.

"Perhaps the ponies will never come to ask you for aid with their crops, or seek your counsel in matters of statecraft, but surely the warriors can look to you for courage in battle, for you fight that which they could not hope to defeat. As the Mistress of Dreams, you are capable of inspiring ponies across the land, to be their Muse and inflame their passions.

"Perhaps you shall never receive an offering of bay laurel or barley at Delphi, but I would also never give unto Apollo round cakes inscribed with the symbol of the Moon." Sappho stared into Princess Luna's deep blue eyes as she finished speaking, trying to read the mare's reaction.

For a moment, she could see nothing, and nothing was said. Then, just as she began to worry that she had overstepped, the Princess smiled. "You are wise for one so young," she finally said. "In the many centuries of my rule, I have forgotten why I took upon the mantle of the Moon for mine own."

The Princess leapt from the bench, standing proud and tall in the pale moonlight. "Let Celestia be the virgin mother to her ponies," she declared, her voice echoing out into the dark night. "I am Princess Luna, Mistress of Dreams, Warden of the Everfree, the Speaker of Passion, and..." she trailed off, a sheepish expression on her face. "It seems that in these many centuries, I have also forgotten some of the titles granted unto me."

A giggle escaped from Sappho's lips before she could contain it. She looked to see if the Princess had noticed, and found her smiling with mirth as well. "My tutors used to scold me for forgetting the many names of the gods," Sappho said. "I see I am not the only one afflicted with such troubles."

"Speak not to me of tutors and lessons," the Princess replied with mock sternness. "Five hundred years, and I still cannot rid myself of those memories."

Sappho's giggles turned into a full laugh as the Princess made a show of shuddering, shaking her graceful body every which way. Princess Luna quickly joined in, and for a few moments mortal and goddess revelled in the singular pleasure that could only come from a release of great tension, the sounds of their joy punctuated by the soft chirping of birds in the distance.

When the last of their humour subsided, Princess Luna turned to face Sappho, her eyes still alight with silent laughter. "Thank you, Sappho of Lesbos," she said, bowing her head slightly towards her. "It has been many a year since I have had someone to speak my heart to who is not my sister, and who can impart wisdom that I should never have forgotten."

"I am honoured, Princess," Sappho replied, returning the bow.

Princess Luna shook her head. "Nay, do not address me as such. Call me Luna. You have earned that right, and more."

"I—" Sappho's first reaction was to reject the command, to insist that an immortal of her status should never be addressed like a commoner.

But then, she remembered that haunting dirge Princess Luna had sung when she thought no one else had been present, how it had filled her heart with such crushing loneliness that she could scarce breathe. And now, time and time again, she had seen that Princess Luna was just as much a mare as she was something more.

"Thank you, Luna," she said with a hesitant smile. "And please, call me Sappho."

"Very well, Sappho." Luna shook her hooves out as her wings furled and unfurled. "Now then, I have spent far too much time wallowing and sitting on this bench. Stillness does not suit me. Pray tell, have you ever patronized this garden before?"

"Only during the daytime," Sappho admitted.

"Then you are truly in for a treat," Luna said, gesturing towards her. "Come, let me show you the wonders of the night."

With a spring in her step, Sappho got to her feet, walking over towards Luna. The mare pointed towards a cluster of black buds bunched up in one corner of the clearing. "The hour of midnight approaches," she said, excitement tingeing her voice. "Watch."

Sappho did as instructed and, a few seconds later, stared in wonder as the buds began to open, blossoming to show delicate violet petals that faced towards the moon. "Incredible," she whispered. "What sorcery is this?"

"Sometimes, the most wondrous of feats are not accomplished by magic, and are all the more wondrous for it," Luna said, her hoof reaching out to gently stroke the petals. The silver metal of her horseshoe pressed against the spongy blossom, tracing soft creases against it. "The harsh light of day smothers beauties like this, which bloom only under the light of the moon."

"They're beautiful," Sappho said, eyes riveted on the caring display before her. "What are they called?"

A faint blush coloured Luna's cheeks. "Princesses of the Night," she murmured. "I swear to you, they possessed this name before I gained my title."

A grin tugged at Sappho's lips. "So does that mean your title comes from a flower?" she asked teasingly.

"I—come now, there are many other wonders I wish to show you in this garden." Luna turned away from the flowers and began walking towards one of the trees.

"It is a very beautiful flower," Sappho allowed. "I would be honoured to share a name with them."

Luna stopped in her tracks for a moment before she continued on as if Sappho hadn't said anything. "Enough about me," she finally said as they reached the other side of the clearing. "How have you enjoyed your time as our guest here in Equestria?"

"I—" the ache in her heart that had urged her to come to this garden returned, pinpricks on her chest that stopped her breath in her throat. "Yes, Luna," she finally said. "Everyone—Everypony has been most gracious to me."

"I see." Luna paused, forcing Sappho to stop as well. "Though I may have been blind as to the nature of mine own plight, I am still the Mistress of Dreams, and I know better than most how to divine when someone is hiding their true feelings."

The princess turned around to face Sappho, her sharp eyes filled with compassion as she spoke. "I laid all my troubles at your feet, and you comforted me when most would have fled. Allow me to do the same."

Sappho let out a great sigh. "Today is Larichus' birthday," she said, the name bringing back a multitude of fond memories. "Or it would be, if time flowed the same way in this realm. He should be turning sixteen. My youngest brother, and already he makes his family proud."

She smiled sadly. "Did you know that he was chosen to pour wine at the town hall of Mytilene? Where I am from, it is considered a great honour. I miss him so, as I miss all my family."

"I cannot imagine what it must be like to be parted from them," Luna said, "and trapped in a realm so alien to yours as well. Has there been any progress in returning you to your world?"

"The scholars in the Castle's employ have discovered some sort of novel magic entwined with my spirit, but they do not know if that is the cause of me being sent here, or how it might lead me home." Sappho kicked absentmindedly at the ground, stirring up a handful of leaves. She watched them drift back downwards with a critical eye, as if trying to divine some meaning from how they fell.

"I have prayed every night to the gods to send me back, but I fear they will not act." Sappho barked out a harsh laugh. "Perhaps this is Artemis teaching me a lesson for turning to her in matters of the arts. After all, she did, in the end, fulfil my prayers. I have written a new poem every night since my arrival, and each day my mind races with fires of imagination. This world of wonders has done its part in giving me subjects to write about."

"I have yet to find the opportunity to read your writings," Luna said. "Would you be willing to share a poem with me now?"

Sappho considered the request for a moment. "There is one that I wrote the night I came here, about you."

"Me?" Luna's eyes widened.

"You are the Princess of the Night," Sappho said simply. "No doubt there are countless verses written about every aspect of you. You cannot deny that you are a figure of inspiration."

"No, I suppose not." A smile returned to Luna's face, and Sappho took some measure of comfort in bringing her joy. "Well then, I would be honoured to hear it."

Sappho took a deep breath, and began to speak: "Nay, but always and forever..."

Sappho recited the poem that she had written while struck speechless by her first meeting with Luna. As she spoke each word, she stared deep into Luna's eyes, watching her carefully to see her reaction. In truth, she did not know what to expect, nor what to hope for. She simply wanted to share a measure of her perspective on the Princess.

Luna kept her features neutral as she listened, but Sappho could see true appreciation in her eyes as she spoke, and her head nodded ever so slightly along with the rhythm of her speech. Arrogant as might seem to claim, Sappho had captivated her audience, and her heart soared at the knowledge as she finished the last line of her work.

There was silence for a moment as Luna returned to her present surroundings. "It is true that many poems have been written about me in these many centuries," she said slowly, "but few have ever moved me so, and none in living memory have wielded words as an instrument as you have."

And then, to Sappho's intense surprise, she began to stomp her hooves on the ground in a gesture that Sappho recognized as equivalent to applause. Warmth spread out through her mind, body, and soul as she basked in the Princess' praise. "I am glad you enjoyed it," she finally said, careful to keep her tone humble. Though she didn't fear punishment for hubris as she might have with one her gods, she still did not wish to be seen as arrogant before Luna.

"Indeed I did, Sappho," Luna replied, setting off again towards the winding garden paths that she had been heading towards before. "Though, I must ask: have you considered setting your verses to music? As beautiful as your recitation is now, I can but imagine the experience of performing it as song."

"I have no skill in singing," Sappho admitted, following behind her and taking in the enchanting sights of the gardens at night while she spoke. "Would that I had a voice like yours; it would not matter what words I used, for people would flock to listen regardless."

Luna took the compliment in stride. "I did not gain the arts as my domain by chance," she said simply. "Perhaps I shall give the idea of turning your poetry into performance some further thought, if that would not be too presumptuous. It has been far too long since I have had a chance to compose a new song, and even longer since I have sung for any other than myself."

"I would be honoured beyond words, Luna." A cool breeze blew past them, and Sappho shivered, pulling her clothing around her tighter. "It would be a great boon for me as well, as I have neither husband nor brother nor father to promote my works."

Luna raised a quizzical eyebrow at that. "Though I would be glad to share your works with the world, why would you need another to do what you are capable of?"

Had she forgotten the obvious? "I'm a woman."

"Equestria is home to all manner to speaking creatures," Luna said, still confused. "Perhaps you will face some resistance in the outer cities for not being a pony, but here in Canterlot such things are not a hindrance, especially since your kind has no political dealings with us."

Sappho could only stare dumbly at Luna. She didn't think Luna was being deliberately ignorant here. "A woman, or mare, needs her male guardian to support her, and to handle matters of finance and promotion," she explained slowly. "It is doubtful that I will marry here, as I have no title or dowry in this realm, and my family is not present." Another cut at her heart. Oh, how she missed her brothers.

"Are you saying that you never learned how to manage an estate?" Luna asked. "Celestia mentioned that you were of noble blood."

"Of course not," Sappho replied. "That is a man's duty. A woman cares for the household, and produces children to further the family line." Was Luna really this sheltered from the ways of the world because of her domain of rulership?

"I hardly see how managing finances is something only a male can do."

"It is the men who own property; thus, it is the men who should tend to it, no?" Sappho countered.

"And what of women who own property in your realm, what then?"

"Women cannot own property. That violates the natural law."

Realization flashed in Luna's eyes, and Sappho relaxed in the knowledge that she'd educated the Princess on matters of law.

Except, instead of acceptance, Luna's lips curled into a snarl. "How absolutely barbaric," she growled. "I have not heard of such disgraceful practices in centuries. How are women supposed to engage in trade, to enter into contracts and conduct matters of state, if they cannot own property?"

"Why would a woman do any of those things when she has a man to do it for her?"

"Why would a woman bind herself entirely to a man's whims?" Luna countered.

"Because men are much more suited to such tasks than women," Sappho replied. "Women lack the wit and strength for trade and battle and politics, and require a guardian to provide for them."

A dangerous gleam flashed in Luna's eyes. "Do you think that I or my sister are incapable of running this nation, then?"

"Of course not." Sappho took an instinctive step back away from the Princess of the Night. "But the gods have always been greater than us mortals, unbound by that which limits our abilities."

"Hmmph, perhaps that is what Nature dictates in your world, but here, mares and stallions are no different in ability. Any mare my join the Guard should she prove capable, and many stallions choose to tend to the household while their wives ply their trade."

"Truly?" It should not have been that surprising, she supposed. In this land of the gods, why should mortal restrictions hold?

"Did you not notice the mares and stallions going about their work in the Castle?" Luna asked.

"I believed the mares to be servants employed alongside their husbands by the Princess. There are sometimes allowances made in such cases."

"I see. Well, I assure you, your gender will be no bar to your ambitions in this land, though your species may prove difficult outside of Canterlot or the Capital. Expand your horizons, Sappho, and you may find yourself more capable than you expect. After all, you have adapted to this new world faster than most would have." A fond smile graced Luna's expression, her eyes growing distant. "Bellerophon spent nearly a month convinced he was suffering from a fever dream."

Sappho returned the smile from one of her own. "In truth, there are enough wonders here to distract me from home most of the time. And I knew that I would one day be separated from my family once I married. I just didn't expect the separation to be so soon, or to leave me with no way to see them again."

"Do not lose hope," Luna said, raising a wing to stroke her face. It was soft and warm, like a caress from a blanket that had been slept on. "We will find a way to return you home. None can match the intellect of the scholars in our employ. Until then, I would be gladdened to keep you company. Having a friend can aid in banishing the loneliness for a time."

"F—Friends?" the word was stammered out as Sappho struggled to believe what she had heard.

Luna's ears wilted slightly in response. "Only if you wish it so," she said hastily. "I would not wish to impose upon you. But, if you would have me, I would very much like to speak with you again, to learn more about your home and to share in your stories."

Less than an hour ago, Sappho would never have believed it possible that she would become friends with a goddess. Now, when she stopped to think about it, it seemed the most natural thing in the world.

"I would be honoured to accept your friendship," she said, bowing her head towards Luna.

And thus did she embark on a new adventure with the Princess of the Night — her friend. Luna led her on a tour through the gardens, showing Sappho new sights and spectacles impossible to glimpse during the day. They shared stories of writing and music and art and, as they stood around a bed of oleanders, Sappho promised to show Luna her other poems in return for a private performance of her singing.

Alas, Luna had other duties to attend to, and with a final farewell and a promise to meet again, Sappho left the garden and returned to her room. Her heart still ached with longing for her home in Mytilene, but now that she had a friend, the pain seemed much more bearable.

Before she climbed into bed to eke out what scant hours of sleep were remaining for her, she reached for her quill and parchment, and began to weave a tapestry of words once again.



Sleep thou in the bosom
Of the tender comrade,
While the living water
Whispers in the well-run,
And the oleanders
Glimmer in the moonlight.

Soon, ah, soon the shy birds
Will be at their fluting,
And the morning planet
Rise above the garden;
For there is a measure
Set to all things mortal.