Chosen by Kristen Day

was taken back to an antiquity experience I had seemingly ages ago.
                  ‘What have you named her?’
                  ‘ Anastasia Nemertes Theophanides.’
                  “My middle name…” I whispered in awe.  My words were met with a tender smile that lit up the room.
                  “Yes,” she confirmed tenderly. “Your mother and I were very close.  I am one of only two sisters who knew of your entrance into this world.  Our silence was very important to Thetis, for reasons known only to her.” She tilted her head in thought, “The resemblance is astounding.” Another memory from an antiquity flashed across my mind’s eye: the face of a striking blonde woman with pale streaks throughout her hair and sparkling blue eyes.  She must be the second sister who knew about my birth, since I had never seen the woman standing before me.  Long, straight chestnut brown hair framed pale green eyes, surrounded by olive skin.  She wore a white dress exactly like mine, with the exception of a light green strip of fabric draped over her left shoulder, held in place by green and white jewels.  I was taken by the serene wisdom that I sensed emanating from her.  I instinctively trusted her.
                  “Where are we?” I forced myself to speak, unable to take my eyes off of her.
                  “This is the spiti of Achilles; your brother.”
                  “My brother…” I tried to the words on my tongue. “But, it was ruins…a couple of minutes ago…” 
                  “Only those deemed worthy will see,” she explained cryptically with a knowing smile. 
                  “Oh,” I breathed.  It only made sense; the same had been true for the Fortunate Isle, as well as for my mother’s house.             
                  “Come.  Allow me to show you something.” I followed her to the other side of the spiti to a second wall decorated with mosaics, as she continued her explanation. “Many make the mistake of thinking that solid objects and structures do not possess an essence.  It is true that they do not possess essence at their time of construction; however, the living beings therein provoke the energy that will reside there.  The energy, or essence, of every building remains even after its physical shell has fallen away.  So what we are seeing is this spiti’s essence.  A building’s essence also has the ability to grow and shift as changes occur.  As you can see, there have been recent additions to this particular spiti.”
                  She backed away gracefully and swept her hand out; allowing me a full view of the paintings.  There was another picture of a blonde woman smiling down at a baby girl, a scene of the same woman and a man setting a basket down and weeping, a little girl with blonde hair hiding in a closet, and then that same little girl clutching a gun with resolve flashing in her eyes.  My mouth dropped further when I came to a mosaic of my likeness swimming with a dark haired boy, collecting baby sea turtles during a storm, arguing with Keto, and finally holding a pomegranate with Persephone and Nadia peering over my shoulder. And I thought that Facebook was a weird phenomenon…
                  “I…this is…”
                  “Your history has imprinted itself upon your brother’s spiti, being that yours is not ready yet.”
                  “Yet?”
                  “All will be revealed…in time,” she responded wisely.  She was good at this whole cryptic-thing.
                  “Time and I sometimes don’t agree,” I grinned sheepishly. “Patience isn’t an ability of mine.”
                  “Another trait you inherited from your mother,” she chuckled, as she reached out and grazed my aquamarine