The Gadfly
What do you know of the gadfly? My body is twisted and crippled, but still I can speak. Once, women would slit the throats of their husbands just to hear my voice. Queens sold their honor for the unkept promise of a single night in my bed. None could sway honorable Bellerophon. None could touch me. And now, none will.
It’s catching, my defeat, just as everyone wanted to believe my success was. They came with swords just for the chance to glance my shield and flowers for the chance for their fingers to glance my skin.
What do you know of heroes? Entire armies weren’t enough to shatter my honor. I could turn Trojan tides from the back of my winged beast. I captured the thing, but it was the only creature that ever loved me as purely as I loved it. He was born of a gorgon, the horse, a punishment for a woman who had dared to defy the gods. They wanted to shame her, but her shame was my salvation. I can see him when I stare to the stars, but it breaks my heart to tear my eyes from the ground.
What do you know of sacrifice? Villages could have drowned in the blood I left on altars, entire city-states in the blood I left on battlefields. My name meant war.
What do you know of the chimera? I have heard its dying cry as the lead from my lance buried itself in its heart. If you look at me, just for a moment, I will tell you a secret: I found the monster beautiful, and would not have regretted dying in its flames. After that, it was all conquering foreign tribes and slaying armies.
And then, before I could wipe the blood from my brow, I was married, and king. How happy I should have been, how justified everything should have felt. I did not know my queen, but I loved her as dutifully as I had slain Amazons. Two strong sons, two beautiful daughters, and a peaceful kingdom to speak to my competence. My right hand was made for killing, it was said, and my left for ruling. Flawless Bellerophon, the man who the gods must have loved, or else how would he have been raised so high?
And then came the fall.
Pride, some called it, but I was honestly just grateful. They’d sent me the horse; they’d given him wings. And they had lifted me, so I flew towards them. What do you know of gods? What do you know of their fear? Do you know they are terrified on their mountain, living in fear that one of us will one day climb, one day rise, one day fly to their height and find they are just as petty and cruel and mundane as we. Them above and we below. What do you know of order?
What do you know of the gadfly? It struck truer than my sword ever did, and I came crashing to the ground, my gratitude dying on my lips, unspoken.
Hi, just wanted to say I read this literally ten years ago, when I was like 13, and it has always stuck in my mind. Incredible story and it’s so interesting to hear it told from Bellerophon’s perspective. You did a great job :)
