Beauty of Thebes - Chapter 46
Chapter 46: Ariadne
The calm waters of the river rounded to the edge and greeted Dionysus, which slowly descended with Eutostea. He went straight across the narrow river and into an island-like forest.
Stepping through the trees and walking inside, a white-roofed temple emerged. The temple, which had been neglected for decades, felt shabby compared to Apollo’s temple in Delphi.
Without a single proper architectural building, the roof served as a pillar for enduring the weight of everything with unusually high-growing vines attached to it like a rope. The grass grew wild and the pond was dried up, leaving only traces of mud.
The empty space, which was no popular visit, was so wide and vacant. The interior of the assembly hall, where the altar was to be, was a tomb of a dried-up vine. The wide bowl of the furnace for the tributary offering had red rust.
The murmur of Dionysus’ footsteps echoed.
When he entered the inner room of the temple, where the priest stayed, Dionysus sighed. It was a place the Muses sisters could live in. But for Eutostea, it would need some touch-up.
The lamp was lit on the narrow room and a clean bed was prepared for the Eutostea the patient.
Dionysus greeted his goddesses who welcomed him back and immediately laid Eutostea on the bed. When he took off Apollo’s cloth, which covered her body, and threw it roughly on the floor, one of his goddesses approached and folded the cloth neatly.
Eutostea, who seemed to have fallen asleep, tossed and turned, lips frowning as if she was experiencing an uncomfortable dream. Dionysus turned her body to a comfortable position, otherwise, she’d wake up feeling pain because of the pressure on her injured shoulder and ankle.
“Would you like me to prepare a drink?” Dionysus’ goddess approached and asked.
“I’m not feeling in the mood,” Dionysus asked, asking them to leave.
With smiles on their faces, the warrior-like goddesses quietly walked out of the inner room.
Dionysus flopped down on the floor next to the bed. Two slender leopards he raised appeared in the dark and approached their master. Dionysus reached out his hand, rubbing and scratching their head, while he rubbed the other leopard with his bare feet.
The band of the golden sandals had been gnawed with the leopard’s teeth as if they were toys.
“Were you keeping our house safe?”
Dionysus stroked their backs with a grin, not caring whether his sanders were broken. The male leopard’s name was Mariad while the female’s name was Eonia. Marad fell comfortably down, head resting on Dionysus’ thighs, while Eonia looked around, smelling the scent, then climbed up to the bed.
Eonia was as tall as Eutostea. She sniffed the scent exuding from Eutostea, the mattress fluttering because of the leopard’s weight.
Dionysus hugged Eonia and lowered her to the floor for fear that Eutostea would wake up.
“Eutostea’s recovering because she’s sick. I’ll introduce you to her later when she wakes up. I know. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen a mortal woman.”
Eonia’s eyes broadened. It was as if her eyes were that of a human eye and not that of an animal.
Dionysus looked somewhat solemn.
“Yes, I know. I feel the same way,” Dionysus said, stroking Eonia’s nose.
When his wife was alive, Eonia was the beast who followed Ariadne faithfully. The smell of a mortal woman coming from Eutostea caused Eonia to mistake her as Dionysus’ wife for a moment, but she quickly realized that it was not so. The thought saddened Eonia who longed to see Ariadne.
Dionysus’ golden chalice rolled over the floor. It was empty, but if he so desired, it’d be filled with wine in an instant. Dionysus fell into a long, deep thought.
The two leopards rested on both his sides as if they wanted to ease their master’s worries. They stayed that way all throughout the night. As if sensing their master’s thoughts, they guarded Eutostea.
The next day, when the sun rose, Eutostea came to her senses. The heat from the night damped her neck and back. The unpleasant feeling caused her to rouse from her sleep faster.
“Apollo…?”
Eutostea raised her head and called out the name of the last person she saw. Her voice sounded awful like a terrible ghost who came back to life from the grave. And her lungs, gods it hurt like hell. Eutostea coughed and looked around.
“You miss Apollo enough to call his name as soon as you wake up? Wow, this is somewhat painful.”
The face of Dionysus popped into Eutostea’s view. He was kneeling on the floor, chin resting on the edge of the bed. His green eyes gazed at her.
“Hmm… by chance, maybe the curse had been offset… you haven’t forgotten,” he said, disappointed. He wore a sad, solemn look.
“…Yes?” Eutostea asked, frowning.