Alex Myers, creative fiction, 2023
Something must definitely be awry when Thanatos brings not news of death but of renewed life. It is rare now that Nyx is visited by her many children, with the notable exception of chthonic banquet days. It is quiet in her cave. She reminds herself regularly that she is a fan of silence.
But quiet does not last forever and her peace is about to be shattered: Chaos is leaving their realm and is coming to visit her.
Nyx stands on the cliffs of the Greek mainland, her darkness so immense that the drop before her seems as deep as the pit of tartarus. Chaos said they could make it just fine to Nyx’s cave from the Greek isle where the entrance to their realm is located, but Nyx believes otherwise. She thought she would meet them halfway, on this secluded bluff.
Nyx expects Chaos to emerge from the sea but she can never quite pin down what Chaos will do. She feels a rapid tapping on her shoulder and when she turns, Chaos behind is her. They are an ever-shifting being, now with three hands, now with two; now tall and thin as a lamp post, now small and compact as a trash bin. The only constant is at least one large eye, never blinking.
They flash fourteen smiles. “Darling Nyx, how long has it been! I quite struggled to find you here: your tenebrosity is more intense than ever. You could be wearing a full robe or nothing as far as I know. How delightfully curious and mysterious!”
Nyx lifts some of her darkness, making her face visible, but not all of it. She knows better than to let her parent see her fully; it has never gone well. She puts on her best smile. “Oh Great Creator, why have you called on me?”
“Can a parent not visit their child?”
“One most definitely can: most of my time goes into visiting my children. But you have not emerged from your realm in eons, I had scarcely thought it possible for you to do so.”
Chaos dons six faces of concern. “I have had an epiphany. And I have a new curiosity to pursue. What has become of the world that I helped create? And who better to pursue it than you, my dear daughter, who sees all in darkness and in light! Most eminent of my children!”
Most eminent? Perhaps the most soft. Nyx has a reputation of being a mother, a caretaker, a protector, a great force even Zeus himself fears. But she prefers to tend to herself, to the realm she most directly controls.
“Great Creator, I am not the one to guide you around the world. I barely leave my cave.”
“Nonsense: you visit all your children spread around the world and it takes up most of your time. Let us go, then and visit my other children, my inanimate ones! All the things I helped to build!”
“In Greece, then?”
“A swift, passing tour of Greece is wonderful, but we must then go on to see the other realms that my fellow founders have built - I helped with it all! Away, away, let us go!”
Nyx gives Chaos a brief tour of Greece, worried that they would be devastated by the state of ruin of the ancient cities that were in full glory before they sealed themself in their realm. On the contrary: they love the dirt everywhere, all the broken and missing walls, all the cracked pillars, all the buildings obscured under the ground. They love tourists so they become one, materializing a camera to take pictures of everything, even a museum program on the floor. Nyx pulls away into the darkness of the countryside. Chaos does not remark on this. But at last, they pull Nyx from her cave and drags them both to Egypt.
“Do you ever speak with Nut anymore? You both got along well, though I never adored Atum, he’s too simple for me.”
Too simple? Perhaps too orderly.
“We speak infrequently but more so than you and I do,” Nyx says.
With a sniff from three noses, Chaos leaps off of the sand dune they were standing on to observe the pyramids of Giza and rolls down, absolutely coating themself in sand. “What a strange feeling, being coated in these grains, oh how they get everywhere! If you were to try, Nyx, it would look like stars all over your body!”
“If I were to try, I suppose it would.”
While Nyx watches them wriggle in the sand like a snake, Chaos lifts their twelve heads. “What is that there? With all of those lights?”
Nyx flinches. “That is the city of Cairo.”
Already, Chaos is rushing into the crowded streets, tugging Nyx along. “So many people, so many scents, so many new things! How curiously time has passed since I was away! Are all the cities like this now?”
“They all have their distinctions.”
“We must visit them all, then!”
Nyx cringes. “Perhaps a few before I need to return home for my next chthonic banquet. My children will surely be missing me by then, and I have a strict calendar to follow.”
“We shall create a list of all of the cities and then destroy the list until only a few remain!”
Chaos begins their list, asking Nyx for more examples and if certain civilizations still exist. In the end, Nyx compiles the list for Chaos, self consciously drawing her darkness around them as people stare at Chaos’ flamboyantly shifting form.
The first choice is New York City. Chaos explores every skyscraper, trounces through every sewer, counts every rat, attends and participates in every drag show. Nyx, abhorrent of light, withdraws to the Atlantic Ocean. Chaos pulls her back out to eat a slice of pizza. Nyx gets hers plain; Chaos orders as many toppings as they can.
“Why do they have limits for the number of items I can put atop my bread? Can’t I enjoy it all,” Chaos huffs with one mouth, wolfing down seven slices with their other mouths.
“They have a limited supply,” Nyx says, wiping her mouth between bites. “And besides, it wouldn’t taste good if you but literally everything on it.”
“It might!”
In Chichen Itza, Chaos stares at every piece of wood work displayed by vendors, every footprint on the pok-a-tok court, and calls out to hear the echo of their voice in the main plaza.
“It does echo so beautifully! What a wonderful design!”
Nyx sighs. “The echoes are nice. I just wish that the Aztecs had a longer reign here or were less savagely repressed by the Europeans. Much of their lovely architecture is submerged in too much shadow to be shared with those who can only see light.”
“They had their time, and they left this, so that is all that matters,” Chaos says, none of their forty cheeks creasing. They do not mention Tezcatlipoca.
Chaos drags them both across the world to Tokyo, where Nyx discovers she quite likes the orderly transit system.
“So fast and efficient, quiet too,” Nyx says, reclining against her seat.
“Mm, efficient,” Chaos says as if they do not know the word. They ride the train in rare silence, Chaos’ six knees bouncing up and down non stop.
The silence is short-lived. They visit twelve more cities across the world before Nyx truly begins to tire, the dark circles under her eyes like voids.
In the British museum, Chaos is delighted. “So many things from so many places, all here! How exciting! So much is cluttered right here in such a dense place! Efficient! Just as you like!”
Nyx examines a piece of Greek pottery and frowns with her one true mouth. “It’s not “efficient”, it shouldn’t all be here.”
“What do you mean?”
“It is not right and orderly for it to be here.”
“There is no right and orderly way for things to be.”
Nyx’s darkness pulsates and the lights in the display room flicker. “There is! These should be with the people whose ancestors made them! If people want to experience the full world, they should travel on their own! Or if they want to display others’ things they should only take them if they have consent, an agreement, a plan. You can’t just take things wildly, however you want! It’s not fair.”
“Nothing is fair. Everything is fair. There is no rationale to the world’s workings, it is just Chaos.”
The room goes completely dark. “It is not. Chaos has patterns, and regardless, the proper age of Chaos has passed. Some people want things to be orderly. People want things to stay in place. To destroy it all and say nothing matters is folly. I have done all I can to organize my children, to make my cave homey, to build myself a quiet life. And now you’ve shown up without notice and dragged me around the world for over a year! You’ll probably get obsessed with some new museum or theme park in the next few days, drag me along with you, and then before we realize it we’ll have been there for a week and we’ll miss my chthonic banquet!”
“What is a calendar to a primal deity? You have infinite time.”
“I do not! If I don’t make my best efforts and have time to prepare, it will turn out awfully, and my children won’t want to come back!”
Chaos does not speak until the darkness dissipates enough to see their one true eye. “We will not miss the banquet. We have but one place left to go.”
The last destination that Chaos chose is Anchorage, Alaska. Chaos did not drag Nyx out during the day. They went out at night and the air was cold enough to see the breath from Nyx’s one mouth, Chaos’ five mouths. Except for the stars, it was completely dark.
“I am surprised you chose Anchorage,” Nyx says. “It is rather quiet here, not many people, not many animals, mostly ice and snow. I thought you would find it boring.”
Chaos contorts themself so they have as few noses and mouths as possible. “I must confess to having patterns, as you said. One of my patterns is that I care for my children. When you leave my realm, it becomes impossible to create a replica. It is like a part of myself has detached entirely. It is lonely. I wish to be closer, reconnected to that part, but I fear I am not. I do not understand you as I wish to.”
Nyx takes a moment. “Why, then, did you come now, after all these years?”
Chaos has three mouths then two. “I am indecisive. I distract myself frequently with new projects. I had wanted to emerge earlier, but I could not muster the strength until now. I greatly feared I would draw your wrath. I have become so lonely that I have forgotten how to reach out.”
The darkness withdraws, and greens and blues and purples begin to dance in the sky. Nyx sighs. “I would not have forsaken you, even in my anger. I am glad to see you again, though I wish you were closer as well, to me and my children. I try to control so much, pull it closer, but it all drifts away from me.”
“What drifts away may well drift back, so long as there remains goodwill. That is the curiosity, the mystery of chaos.”
“I should hope. Perhaps my children will drift back in droves to see their grandparent at our chthonic banquet in a few nights’ time for the first time ever. A new chapter of family history.”
Nyx and Chaos watch the Aurora Borealis, Nyx with two true eyes, Chaos with one true eye and seventeen others that see colors in ways Nyx cannot fathom but loves nonetheless. The eyes regard both the skies and their daughter intently.