text: High in the hills Oedipus limped on alone. It had been some days now since he had seen another soul. The late afternoon sun beat down upon his neck as he dragged his limp foot along this dusty trail, his only company the birds above. He had started out before the Sun had risen and was witness to its journey across the blue sky. Yet he hadn’t paused, nor would he, until he arrived at Thebes. He had heard that there great trouble brewed. But trouble was what he desired. Turning his back on his family, he realised the only glory he would obtain in this world would be of his own making. Cresting the hill, he leant on his staff. A clear view of Thebes and the surrounding plain lay below. This was where he would make his name, that much he knew. He began his descent. The tall walls of the city rose up and dominated the sun drenched plain, like the silhouette of some man-made mountain range against the bright open sky. Marching towards them he prayed to the gods, to give him the strength to win glory. Vague rumours had informed him of the trouble of Thebes, but it wasn’t clear what exactly the trouble was. He believed in the heroics of Man and had taken it upon himself to shed some light on the problem. He would do what was necessary, or die trying. The gods of high Olympus would surely bless one as bold as he, one who had taken charge so as to avoid his fate as told at Delphi. The last fingers of the Sun pointed out over the horizon. He drew close to those famous walls as the faint stars first twinkled in the darkening sky. No greeting or hail met him from the gates, just a gentle breeze rolling over the plain. It kicked up dust, watering his eyes to the shadowy archway ahead. He paused. He had the sensation of being watched. “I would make myself known. I am Oedipus and I am come to the aid of Thebes.” In front, something moved as smoke in the shadows. Squinting he gazed into the abyss. “Would you now, brave Oedipus? What aid would that be?” Emerging from the gloom with feline grace there appeared to him the most beautiful face. Her skin so smooth the structure so angular, like life breathed into a marble statue of a goddess. Oedipus stood straighter. “I would know who I speak to first.” “A question before that I reveal, and if you fail, you can join those, who lie by my tail.” His eyes were only now becoming accustomed to the dark. He noticed what looked like little piles of earth behind the speaker, on the edge of the shadow cast by the gatehouse. “Ask if you must, I’d rather we didn’t come to blows, it would be a crime against the gods to strike such a pretty face.” A grin appeared, revealing the sharp teeth of a lion. "Which creature has one voice and yet becomes four-footed and two-footed and three-footed?" His heart pounded, fire flamed in his veins. Cascading like a waterfall, images of his life until now fell in front of his mind’s eye. A second passed. "Man--who crawls on all fours as a baby, then walks on two feet as an adult, and then uses a walking stick in old age" “Very good, very good brave Oedipus! So quick on your feet?” She glanced down. “The Sphinx I am, I guard this gate, answer my riddle, and Thebes I’ll vacate.” Closer she came. Creeping as a cat, her wings outstretched. Eye to dreamy eye they gazed. She paused in front of him. Her breath reeked of death. “Speak then.” "There are two sisters: one gives birth to the other and she, in turn, gives birth to the first. Who are the two sisters?" A moments silence. The breeze blew. Unsure, he looked to the sky. The stars were now on full display. The zodiac shone brightly. “Day and night.” The Sphinx beamed at Oedipus. Fluidly she lifted her paw and rammed it into her drooling maw. He watched as with swift violence she devoured herself, until all that remained was a vicious pool of gore. It reflected back the sky above. He walked towards the gate, passing the remains of the Sphinx’s victims. He beat the gate as a victory drum. It echoed off into the night. Silence. He beat the gate again. “I am Oedipus and I have saved Thebes!” In the distance he heard a door close. Another moment of silence passed. He heard bolts clanging behind the gate and the slow creak of it being opened. In that yawning gap, the light of a torched flickered casting the distorted shadow of a hand on the wall. Oedipus thanked the gods. He had glory.