The Bobbysiad: Autolochus Begins The Story

As the fleeting twilight melded into the realm of Selene, the bacchanalian atmosphere faded to demure recollection.  The sound of laughter yielded to the strumming of lyres and enough yarns were spun to put Arachne to shame.  For one poet, however, only the greatest of tapestries would suffice.  “Hand me my lyre, boy, so that it may speak to those gathered here”.  As Proteus fetched the gilded lyre of Autolochus of Elea, he tittered with anticipation.  Autolochus, though blind to the world of men, could see a story through to its end with the skill of Apollo and the grace of Hermes.  Taking his lyre from the boy, Autolochus began strumming.  A translucent aura emanated from the instrument binding listener to story, as Prometheus to mountainside.  Autolochus began, “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.  Best in that heroes still walked the earth, the opportunity for valor still lying beyond the next hill.  Worst too, in that there was a dire need for these heroes.  For the world was a more dangerous place than we can now imagine.  Monsters and creatures abounded, the likes of which I have never seen.”  The crowd sighed, as Autolochus enjoyed drawing attention to his lack of sight at the expense of his audiences’ comfort.  “I tell you not of Hercules, of Bellerophon, nor of Theseus, nor Achilles, nay, I tell of a man greater than them all.”  The crowd was on edge, knowing exactly of whom Autolochus spake.  “I tell you of BOBBYSEUS!  son of ZEUS! first among both gods and mortals!  And where better to begin….than the Beginning,”.