What God makes, no man may rip asunder.
In a handwritten envelope, delivered to the school and Garak's office, marked confidential, there is only pages on Arabic script. The document is simply titled The Dioscuri.
A tale as old as humanity itself, the Dioscuri are the archetype that all of us dream of, long for but never feel we can have.
Kastor and Polydeuces were born together, nurtured inside the same divine egg, gifted to Leda’s womb from Zeus. Overshadowed by the fame of their sister, what they had and what they shared has echoed in the souls of people more than any image evoked by Helen of Troy.
For all the tales told of them, none echoes more true than the end of the story. The fall of the Dioscuri.
Kastor and Polydeuces travelled with their captive wives, stolen sisters from their neighbouring kingdom. The women were silent during their travels, leading Kastor to bring his wife to ride with him so he might speak softly to her as they rode.
In one simple action, a wedge was driven. That such intimacy, held only for Polydeuces once would be bestowed to a mere woman boiled the young man’s blood. Day by day, he watched Kastor and his wife draw closer and felt keenly the hollow left in his heart.
As they came to their home, the towering cliffs and foreboding lines of the landscape before them, Polydeuces had never wanted to leave this place so badly. With the end of their journey, he feared, his time with his soul would end.
With such dark thoughts resting on his shoulders, Polydeuces never heard the horses until they were upon them. The brothers of their stolen wives rode down upon them, spears and shields flashing in the dying sunlight.
The fighting was fierce. Polydeuces, gifted with divine blood, fought with all the anger and pain of his abandonment, unfeeling to the blades that wrenched his skin.
Too late, the sun set and the men stole away into the lengthening shadows. Polydeuces looked around, finding the women gone and Kastor, his beloved Kastor, struggling to lift himself from the ground, blood pooling beneath him.
He rushed to his brother’s side, taking him in his arms. Already his eyes began to cloud, but there was a smile on his face as he felt Polydeuces armoured breast beneath his cheek.
“Brother, my dearest, I feared you would forsake your mortal kin in his final moments.”
“Kastor, my soul, never would I leave you. T’was you who cast your ropes from me for the sweeter waters of that woman.”
Confusion was clear on Kastor’s face. “No, brother, never. She I loved as one loves a woman but you, you are my everything. Your coldness chilled me like even Necros does not now. I feel he has been creeping over me these last weeks, my soul dying without you.”
His eyes darkened. Polydeuces clutched him tighter. “No. No, I shall not leave you. Not now. Not ever. Not for woman or for Death.”
Kastor’s smile faded. His breathed sighed from him, to be caught in Necros’ hand. Desolate, Polydeuces begged the god to take him with his brother into Hades, where the pain of the last weeks could be solaced in eternal life.
Necros, moved by Polydeuces’ pain, agreed to take him with his brother to Hades. Persephone, moved by the petition, pleaded with her husband to speak on their behalf with Zeus, that the immortal not be taken from his soul’s side.
Kastor loved, and Polydeuces mourned, but ultimately, what they had was something most will always feel he absence of but never find. The completion of their soul in one another.
A tale as old as humanity itself, the Dioscuri are the archetype that all of us dream of, long for but never feel we can have.
Kastor and Polydeuces were born together, nurtured inside the same divine egg, gifted to Leda’s womb from Zeus. Overshadowed by the fame of their sister, what they had and what they shared has echoed in the souls of people more than any image evoked by Helen of Troy.
For all the tales told of them, none echoes more true than the end of the story. The fall of the Dioscuri.
Kastor and Polydeuces travelled with their captive wives, stolen sisters from their neighbouring kingdom. The women were silent during their travels, leading Kastor to bring his wife to ride with him so he might speak softly to her as they rode.
In one simple action, a wedge was driven. That such intimacy, held only for Polydeuces once would be bestowed to a mere woman boiled the young man’s blood. Day by day, he watched Kastor and his wife draw closer and felt keenly the hollow left in his heart.
As they came to their home, the towering cliffs and foreboding lines of the landscape before them, Polydeuces had never wanted to leave this place so badly. With the end of their journey, he feared, his time with his soul would end.
With such dark thoughts resting on his shoulders, Polydeuces never heard the horses until they were upon them. The brothers of their stolen wives rode down upon them, spears and shields flashing in the dying sunlight.
The fighting was fierce. Polydeuces, gifted with divine blood, fought with all the anger and pain of his abandonment, unfeeling to the blades that wrenched his skin.
Too late, the sun set and the men stole away into the lengthening shadows. Polydeuces looked around, finding the women gone and Kastor, his beloved Kastor, struggling to lift himself from the ground, blood pooling beneath him.
He rushed to his brother’s side, taking him in his arms. Already his eyes began to cloud, but there was a smile on his face as he felt Polydeuces armoured breast beneath his cheek.
“Brother, my dearest, I feared you would forsake your mortal kin in his final moments.”
“Kastor, my soul, never would I leave you. T’was you who cast your ropes from me for the sweeter waters of that woman.”
Confusion was clear on Kastor’s face. “No, brother, never. She I loved as one loves a woman but you, you are my everything. Your coldness chilled me like even Necros does not now. I feel he has been creeping over me these last weeks, my soul dying without you.”
His eyes darkened. Polydeuces clutched him tighter. “No. No, I shall not leave you. Not now. Not ever. Not for woman or for Death.”
Kastor’s smile faded. His breathed sighed from him, to be caught in Necros’ hand. Desolate, Polydeuces begged the god to take him with his brother into Hades, where the pain of the last weeks could be solaced in eternal life.
Necros, moved by Polydeuces’ pain, agreed to take him with his brother to Hades. Persephone, moved by the petition, pleaded with her husband to speak on their behalf with Zeus, that the immortal not be taken from his soul’s side.
Kastor loved, and Polydeuces mourned, but ultimately, what they had was something most will always feel he absence of but never find. The completion of their soul in one another.