Arius, the Muse - 1

I sat at the computer, waiting anxiously for the words to come.  Usually the words flowed freely, but this time was different.  I was alone, for once.  It was peaceful, to be sure, but my mind was as blank as the silence around me…

“Hello.”

I jumped out of my chair.  Behind me, the speaker stood with his hands clasped behind his back.  Arius.  My muse.  The sole provider of the inspiration I was lacking.

I yelled at him.

“Why must you always scare me like that?”

He shrugged.  “It’s my nature.”

“Well, my nature is telling me to beat you over the head for being so—“

“You hate it when I’m gone,” he stated, pulling me closer so he could stroke my hair, “and yet you hate me when I’m here.  Can I ever win?”

I pulled away.  “Stop playing games with me!  Maybe I’d respect you more if you didn’t treat me like your slave.”

He took a step back, arm outstretched.  “The door is right there.  It’s unlocked.  You are free to go if you so choose.”

I remained silent, eyes flicking between Arius and the door.

“See?  You are no slave.”  He chuckled, guiding me towards my seat.  “You stay here because you enjoy writing with me, whether you’re willing to admit it or not.”

I scowled in reply.  “I’ve been waiting for you all day.  Must you always disappear like that?”

“Of course.”  Arius assumed his proper place behind me, his face hovering beside mine as he started at the computer screen.  “Otherwise you’d just take me for granted.”

Before I could voice a scathing reply, he began to whisper.  

Not just any whisper, mind.  He spoke in the native tongue of all muses.  This language conveyed more than just simple words.  Every syllable was soaked with emotion, and every phrase flared scattered images before my mind’s eye.  

Hypnotized, my frantic fingers typed in plain English, studiously attempting to translate the myriad of sensations bombarding me every second, though I knew it was futile.  How could I possibly strive to immerse another person in all five senses at once with mere words?

“Just write,” he advised, catching his breath.  “Don’t worry about the form until later, just type out the content.”

Arius watched silently as my fingers tapped the keyboard, aftershocks of his voice still ringing in my head.  Just write.  Easy for him to say.  In his language, there were no pauses, nor punctuation.  Grammar did not exist.  No order whatsoever.  That was my job to fill in.  A direct translation would be gibberish in my language.

“Are you done yet?” he murmured.

“No.”  I focused on the task at hand.  “And I’m still mad at you, by the way.”

“That’s rather disappointing.”  He leaned forward, stealing a sly kiss on my cheek.  “I’m never upset at you.”

“As long as I keep writing, you mean!” I shouted as I impulsively grabbed a pencil and whirled it over my shoulder.  Luckily for Arius, muses are only corporeal when they want to be.  The pencil clattered harmlessly onto the floor.

“True.  But I wouldn’t definite that as upset.”  Arius stooped down to pick up the pencil.  “I just nag you.”

“You always nag me.”

He twirled the pencil with one hand.  “Face it, you wouldn’t write at all if I didn’t nag you to some degree.”

Arius continued his unwavering sing-song speech, a mellow sigh tweaked by shifts in pitch.  I winced as the fresh inspiration overwrote his previous song.

“I’m not even done with the first part!”

“Too bad.”

Unamused, I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, translating the raw abstractions into legible form.

“I need to go to bed eventually, you know.”

“Yes, I do know.”

“It’s almost midnight.”

“I know.”

“I have to get up early for school in the morning.”

“I know.”

“Couldn’t you cut me a break and let me sleep?”

“Nope.”

“I hate you sometimes.”

“I know.”

I stood, tucking my chair under my desk.  “I’m going to bed.”

“You’re not going to get much sleep.”

“Why, are you going to keep me up again?” I inquired, walking towards my bedroom.

Arius followed me.  “As usual.”

I sighed, exasperated.  “Give me at least five hours of sleep, please?”

“We’ll see.”

I crawled into bed, hiding my head under the covers.  Strictly speaking, muses had no need for sleep; to them, it was entirely voluntary.  Some did, some didn’t.  Mine never slept.  Ever.  Arius flitted about the room, singing to himself.  Or at least he pretended it was to himself.  I knew he was indirectly speaking to me, pleading for me to write more.  Ideas bounced off the inside of my skull, keeping my mind wide awake regardless of my bodily fatigue.

“Could you please be quiet?”

“Not until you write more.”  Arius pounced onto my bed, causing the mattress to reverberate.  Why, oh why did he have to be so hyper at night?  “You know I won’t stop until you write more.”

I poked my head out from beneath my blankets.  “Listen, I can’t write right now.  I need to get sleep so I can perform well on my math test tomorrow, and I can’t miss the bus again.”

Arius proceeded to fidget with my hair, twisting tiny braids and then unraveling them.  “You know how lonely I am when you’re asleep.”

“Invade my dreams if you must.”

He nuzzled his head against my neck.  “It’s not the same.”

“Shameless flirt.   You’ll do anything to get me to write, won’t you?”

“Just about.”

Resigned, I grabbed my palm pilot from my nightstand, slipping the stylus from its sheath.  “One more song.  That’s it.  Any more and I’ll just listen without writing any of it down, okay?”

Arius smirked, knowing I would give in eventually.  Without further hesitation, he began to whisper in my ear, spinning tactile tales from words alone.  The backlight of my handheld blinded me as I tapped out my translation one letter at a time, excruciatingly slow compared to typing on a full keyboard.

“Slow down, will you?”

“I can’t.”  Arius stole one of my pillows and rested his head on it.  “Besides, I’m done for the night.”

“You sure?”  I placed my handheld back on my nightstand.  “You just started.”

“Well, mostly,” he admitted, lips curling upwards.  “I could sing you to sleep, if you want.”

“There’s no point in answering that,” I replied, rolling over so that I faced away from him.  “You’d do it even if I said no.”

“Quite true.”

“Good night, Arius.”

And for a few moments, I thought I had won.  Arius was completely still and silent.  Then he lifted himself upright, sitting crosslegged beside me.  His fingers drummed a faint melody on my arm, as if he were playing piano.  Even his slight touches sent adjectives spinning around my head.  Soft.  Subtle.  Repetitive.  Musical.  Resonant.

“I’m trying to sleep,” I reminded him, tucking his impromptu keyboard beneath the sheets.

“Hmpf.  And here I thought you missed me.”

“I did.  But I don’t miss how you keep me awake all night.”  I graced him with a quick hug.  “Spin me a dream and I’ll write about it in the morning.  I need to sleep.”

Arius nodded, only partially content.  Greedy little muse.  His finger twitched in the air, conducting his own voice.  Luckily for me, he no longer attempted to coerce me into writing.  The improvised melody lulled me to sleep, penetrating my dreams with the inspiration I had rejected while awake.