The Witch travels to the Island of Lesbos
I was banished to the Island of Lesbos...where Sappho and her students lived. Sappho was a poet, some whispered, in the Dark of Night, one of the Nine Muses, blessed by Zeus's grace himself. Their studies were based on the worship of Aphrodite and Eros, but all young ladies were taught deportment, manners, music, language, art, and creative writing. Each were schooled in the Art of Love. But the land was barren of men. I desperately missed the feeling of King Mark and Tristan inside of me. I cried every night, missing the Castle I had grown used to, the luxuries, the adoration of two men. How could this have happened to me? I bemoaned my fate. No family, no men, only a life of servitude.
After several weeks of acclimating to my solitude. I received a message from Sappho herself, requesting my presence in her Great Hall. I entered the room, blinking in surprise at the small group of young ladies there. There had to be about fifteen, lounging on settee's and divans. Sappho herself reclined on a luxurious oversized couch, being fed grapes by a lovely blonde nymphet. Sappho herself was small, dark, and glowed with intelligence. Her brow was encircled with a simple metal band. Black curls cascaded down her back.
One girl was gently strumming a lute, as one read poetry. One was telling Myths of Apollo while another danced languorously. Others were painting or sculpting. All stopped what they were doing. Sappho said, "Young ladies, this is Isolde, our sister. She has brought to us because she has done wrong. She has not acted in a loving manner. We must teach her the ways of the Love Gods and Goddesses and she must serve us all until I decree that her penance is paid."