Beauty of Thebes - Chapter 33

Chapter 33: Delphi, At Last  

“Of course not.”  

Apollo lowered her expectations. As the goddess of hunting, her brother’s hunting skills were sorrowful and unsatisfactory. The philosophy of the twin siblings’ bows was different. Apollo’s weapon was made for killing while hers for hunting.  

Apollo frowned, having trouble raising the brow and showing a demonstration.  

Eventually, he confessed his injury to his sister. “I hurt my shoulder and have difficulty demonstrating to you my improved skill. I think it’s fair that you go first, right?”  

“Are you hurt? I’m surprised. You look fine. Is that why you’ve chosen to recluse here on vacation? I was sure that you’d stop killing monsters since finding the lira.”  

“…”  

It was no monster, but a woman—a mortal woman. A simple drop of candle wax had injured his shoulder. Apollo couldn’t possibly tell his sister of this embarrassing event.
 

“So then what will you wager on, sister?”  

“A female deer with golden horns. There’s nothing like that to decorate your lira,” Artemis, a goddess who so many men treasured and coveted, smiled.  

“Fine. I agree.” Apollo was satisfied with the wager.  

“And what of you, brother? What will you wager?”  

“What do you want in exchange?” Apollo asked. He was willing to give Artemis what she wanted.  

Artemis let out a meaningful laugh and broke the lowest stretched out branch of the laurel tree.  

“If I win, I’ll cut this tree down and make a chair for me to sit on.”
 

“!”  

Apollo’s eyes shook for a moment. He soon regained his composure.  

“Delos has a lot of laurel trees. You can find another one, brother.”  

“Is there any reason to use this poor tree, which is barely alive after being deprived of nutrients due to poor soil?” Apollo asked, “If you had planned to make a chair from the start, you’d not need to offer a hunt and bet. I wonder what it is that you seek.”  

Smiling, Artemis fastened the bow to her back. She pulled her long hair back and braided it.  

Apollo put down his bow and stared at his sister.  

Finally, he grumbled and said, “Fine, whatever.”  

It was best that he do something to forget the pain from his shoulder. Much like his bow, he was itching to leave Hyperboria.  

***  

The group, who had left Thebes, arrived safely in Delphi on schedule. The road leading up to the mountain was congested. The festival was one of the biggest events of the year for those who worshipped him. The procession—which carried the offerings and tributes to the temple slowly climbed the mountain towards the temple—could be mistaken as people seeking refuge from afar.  

Eutostea sat on the horse’s back and dozed off as the procession was delayed. The warm autumn weather caused lethargy.  

The number of visitors for the festival far exceeded the limits the temple could accommodate. Paeon ordered several members of the party to separate and quickly secure a seat at the temple.  

The rest of the group continued to move forward slowly. The fire burning on the altar never went out. Apollo’s priest, Pyatia, stood at a platform and received the guests’ offerings and tributes.  

The line hadn’t shrunk at all. Folks swarmed like ants and like Eutostea, many held sets of liquor. The sight made her think of Dionysus who she was sure was looking down with his tongue flapping and licking his red lips in excitement.  

‘Is Apollo not here?’  Eutostea thought to herself.  

She didn’t want to stand and she truly did find it undesirable to sacrifice herself to the temple. But she promised. Though would he find her promise foolish? She was but a mere mortal who a god couldn’t recognize.  

But it mattered no longer.  

Those in line waiting in boredom turned their focus on the sky. A flock of black-bodied crows flew low and circled ‘round the temple. They twirled their wings, as if spying on the people below. The piercing cries of the crows were strange.  

Eutostea looked up and bore witness to the phenomenon.  

“It’s a good sign. The bird symbolizes that Apollo’s made his appearance!” someone shouted.  

The crow was a bird that became Apollo’s eyes.