Chapter 8: Kykeon

The festival had begun with a solemn procession to a small local chapel, a scene of profound beauty as the villagers made their way through the narrow paths, holding candles and flowers. The air was thick with the scent of wild herbs and the sound of soft, rhythmic chanting, creating an atmosphere of reverence. Niko followed along, feeling a strange mix of belonging and otherness, his steps matching the slow, deliberate pace of those around him.

After the procession, they moved out into the fields to bless the crops. The priest sprinkled holy water, while the villagers murmured prayers. But by this point, Niko began to feel strange. The ground beneath his feet seemed to pulse, as if it were alive, breathing in sync with the chants. A sensation of overwhelming elation welled up inside him, an emotion he hadn’t felt since before Zoe’s death. He looked around, noticing that others were also acting oddly - some were crying openly, others were laughing uncontrollably, while a few had dropped to their hands and knees, pressing their faces close to the earth. Niko couldn’t tell if this was normal for a festival like this, but it felt incredibly surreal.

A warm, tingling sensation crept up the back of his neck, and he was suddenly overcome with an uncontrollable desire to connect with everyone around him. It was as though a barrier had been lifted, and all the grief, fear, and isolation he had carried for so long melted away, leaving only a raw, unfiltered joy. 

As they made their way back to the village, the air filled with the sound of traditional Cretan music, and villagers began to dance in the streets, their movements wild and free.

Niko, caught up in the pulsating energy around him, felt an overwhelming urge to find Elena. He scanned the crowd, his eyes darting from face to face, driven by an inexplicable need to see her again. The earlier hesitations and the cautious distance he had maintained dissolved entirely in the rush of elation coursing through his veins. When he finally spotted her, standing on the edge of the gathering, a surge of unbridled joy flooded his senses. Without a second thought, he made his way toward her, every step filled with a newfound confidence. 

She seemed to glow with an ethereal light, her beauty transcending anything he had ever seen. She was like a spirit, an otherworldly angel, and he felt an irresistible compulsion to dance with her. As he approached, she met his eyes with a warm smile, her own movements graceful and inviting. They began to dance together, and for Niko, time lost all meaning. The whole village became a swirling, chaotic flourish of joy and happiness, a living, breathing harmony of colour and sound.

As they danced, Yannis appeared beside him, pulling him gently to the side. There were tears in Yannis’ eyes, but his expression was one of pure exhilaration. “I think the drink must have something other than alcohol in it,” he said, laughing through his tears. “Enjoy the ride!”

Niko realized then that he was hallucinating, but the knowledge didn’t disturb him. Instead, he felt lighter, freer, more alive than he had in years. The crushing weight of his grief had lifted, replaced by a soaring sense of euphoria. He danced with abandon, connecting with everyone around him, his senses heightened and his emotions raw and vivid. He was aware of his growing attraction to Elena, but despite the intoxicating pull, he managed to hold back, mindful of the intensity of his feelings.

As the effects of the drink began to wear off, Niko found himself grounded once more, though the vivid memories of the day lingered in his mind. He was relieved that he hadn’t done anything reckless like trying to kiss Elena, though the temptation had been strong. The villagers, too, began to return to their senses, and the atmosphere gradually shifted from wild celebration to a more subdued, contented mood.

As dusk settled over the village, they all gathered for a feast, the long tables laden with local dishes. Niko noticed that pasta was served with nearly everything, a Cretan custom he hadn’t expected. It seemed that a meal wasn’t complete without it, a quirky detail that made him smile.

After the meal, Niko walked back to the house with a few of the new friends he had made during the dancing. They chatted amiably, and Niko found himself appreciating the flower wreaths that adorned the doorways and windows, their simple beauty a stark contrast to the intensity of the day. He marvelled at the idea that this festival would continue for a week, filled with games, competitions, and storytelling sessions where the elders would recount local myths and legends. It was a far cry from the weekend festivals he was used to back in England, with their temporary campsites and fleeting sense of community.

Back at the house, Niko saw Yannis standing by the doorway, looking contemplative. Yannis caught Niko’s eye and beckoned him over. “Those bottles were wild and fun for today,” Yannis said, his tone serious, “but it could be dangerous to have a repeat of this. Someone could fall into a well or worse. I’m going to hide them.”

Niko nodded, understanding Yannis’ concern. But as Yannis walked away to stash the remaining bottles, a new, unwelcome urge bubbled up within Niko. The release he had felt today was something he hadn’t experienced in years, and he was desperate to feel it again. Quietly, he followed Yannis at a distance, watching as he hid the bottles in a small shed behind the house. After Yannis left, Niko waited a few moments, ensuring he wasn’t seen, before sneaking into the shed. He grabbed one of the bottles and quickly hid it under his bed, his heart pounding with a mix of excitement and guilt.

Tomorrow, he thought, he would taste that freedom again.