Eutostea walked with him. The situation was worse than she thought. Eutostea saw clearly with her eyes that the Moussa had disappeared and that the assembly hall was covered with piles of stones like ruins. A sense of loss has ruffled her heart.
“Damned bastard.”
Apollo, who found Dionysus sitting in front of the sarcophagus, spat out in a voice full of scorn. Dionysus was drinking with hollow eyes as if his soul had left his body. Eutostea saw that he was fine without any trace of soot on his body. But looking at his fingers clasping the glass, the smallest one trembled. Apollo intended to kick that stupid expression right off Dionysus’ face right now. Eutostea held his arm and stopped him.
“Lord Dionysus.”
Dionysus saw her. He hadn’t thought she could get hurt when he was setting it all on fire. Embarrassment flashed through his green eyes. But he found Apollo’s clothes that she was wearing and figured out the situation.
How come?
To Eutostea, who looked at him with such eyes, he held up the golden cup in a desolate manner.
“Are you all right?” asked Eutostea.
“Uh. Yeah. Feeling fantastic.” Dionysus laughed exaggeratedly. “It was like fireworks, wasn’t it? It would have been spectacular if I had seen it in the sky.”
“…”
“Here’s to your freedom.”
He shook the cup like he was bumping it into an invisible glass. The wine fluttered. Dionysus giggled and licked the edge of the glass. Eutostea thought he was acting as usual, but was in a very unstable condition.
“Lord Dionysus.”
She sat in front of him. Dionysus drank all the wine in the golden cup.
“My priest. Eutostea. Now that I let you go, you’ll be free. Go to Thebes. I’m a little tipsy, and I’m going to have to stay here a little bit more.”
“Lord Dionysus.”
“Damn it, my appetite is ruined.” He threw the cup away. His eyes went wild. “You know what’s funny? My name is the god of alcohol, but the alcohol I make does not make me drunk no matter how much of it I drink. Eutostea. I want to get drunk, but I’m sober. It’s driving me crazy. So why don’t you give me your drink? The white honey thyme from your hand.”
He snapped Eutostea’s wrist. He guided her palm and gave a voracious lick to the part where she produced the thyme. There was a salty and acrid smell of ash. He moved his tongue and licked it. Licked like a dog. He seemed to think that her aphrodisiac, which was the only thing able to take the rationality off his mind, would spring up that way.
“Just once. For the last time. Let me have a dream.”
“…”
Dionysus whispered in a wistful voice. His lips on the palm of her hand tickled her.
“I… have to make sure that Anne is gone forever on the Styx River. Maybe I’m too late. I have to see her go for me to be able to live on. But I can’t get drunk with my wine. Eutostea. Please…”
Eutostea looked at him in silence.
“I have to see if I’ve let Anne cross completely. No, it is but an excuse for me to gaze upon her beautiful face once again. I have forgotten it. I burned it all to forget her. Haha. No, I really forgot her.”
He seemed completely out of his mind. He rubbed his face on Eutostea’s palm and licked it with his tongue like a dog. Eutostea reached out the other hand and grabbed him by the cheek. Dionysus’ face froze. He blinked his eyes and hugged her with a stupid look on his face. Her hand patted him on the back of his head. It was a gesture of comfort to his grief. Dionysus laughed. But Apollo saw the sorrow in his eyes; faded like a thick mist.
“Would you like to come with me to my hometown?”
“You want us to go together?”
“Yes.”
“There are no Moussa, Lord Dionysus. There’s no temple. There’s no grave. There are only ashes… I don’t think I should leave you alone here.”
“It’s all right. I…”
“I know you’re not okay,” Eutostea said sharply.
He raised his head to see her face. Eutostea pressed his head hard. His nose was lodged in the sweet-scented nape of her neck. Apollo thought it was an envious position.
Eutostea stroked Dionysus’s head with great care. The hand touching the back of his head came down to his back and patted him. With a pleasant rhythm, Dionysus closed his eyes. A tear ran down her ash-covered cheek. Her comfort healed him. Vitality sprang up through him again.
Dionysus collected his facial expression a moment later. He also wiped his tears. He stroked the heads of the leopards who came to their owners. The River God was waiting for his order.
Dionysus picked up a pebble laying by the river and threw it over his shoulder without looking back. A mass of the river shaped like a wolf devoured the ashes of the temple. Sweeping them off the area. Eutostea sat on a leopard on the other side of the river and watched the scene unfold.
The land that had been her purpose, her refuge, and where she spent many seasons together with these people was swallowed up by the black river.
Eutostea walked with him. The situation was worse than she thought. Eutostea saw clearly with her eyes that the Moussa had disappeared and that the assembly hall was covered with piles of stones like ruins. A sense of loss has ruffled her heart.
“Damned bastard.”
Apollo, who found Dionysus sitting in front of the sarcophagus, spat out in a voice full of scorn. Dionysus was drinking with hollow eyes as if his soul had left his body. Eutostea saw that he was fine without any trace of soot on his body. But looking at his fingers clasping the glass, the smallest one trembled. Apollo intended to kick that stupid expression right off Dionysus’ face right now. Eutostea held his arm and stopped him.
“Lord Dionysus.”
Dionysus saw her. He hadn’t thought she could get hurt when he was setting it all on fire. Embarrassment flashed through his green eyes. But he found Apollo’s clothes that she was wearing and figured out the situation.
How come?
To Eutostea, who looked at him with such eyes, he held up the golden cup in a desolate manner.
“Are you all right?” asked Eutostea.
“Uh. Yeah. Feeling fantastic.” Dionysus laughed exaggeratedly. “It was like fireworks, wasn’t it? It would have been spectacular if I had seen it in the sky.”
“…”
“Here’s to your freedom.”
He shook the cup like he was bumping it into an invisible glass. The wine fluttered. Dionysus giggled and licked the edge of the glass. Eutostea thought he was acting as usual, but was in a very unstable condition.
“Lord Dionysus.”
She sat in front of him. Dionysus drank all the wine in the golden cup.
“My priest. Eutostea. Now that I let you go, you’ll be free. Go to Thebes. I’m a little tipsy, and I’m going to have to stay here a little bit more.”
“Lord Dionysus.”
“Damn it, my appetite is ruined.” He threw the cup away. His eyes went wild. “You know what’s funny? My name is the god of alcohol, but the alcohol I make does not make me drunk no matter how much of it I drink. Eutostea. I want to get drunk, but I’m sober. It’s driving me crazy. So why don’t you give me your drink? The white honey thyme from your hand.”
He snapped Eutostea’s wrist. He guided her palm and gave a voracious lick to the part where she produced the thyme. There was a salty and acrid smell of ash. He moved his tongue and licked it. Licked like a dog. He seemed to think that her aphrodisiac, which was the only thing able to take the rationality off his mind, would spring up that way.
“Just once. For the last time. Let me have a dream.”
“…”
Dionysus whispered in a wistful voice. His lips on the palm of her hand tickled her.
“I… have to make sure that Anne is gone forever on the Styx River. Maybe I’m too late. I have to see her go for me to be able to live on. But I can’t get drunk with my wine. Eutostea. Please…”
Eutostea looked at him in silence.
“I have to see if I’ve let Anne cross completely. No, it is but an excuse for me to gaze upon her beautiful face once again. I have forgotten it. I burned it all to forget her. Haha. No, I really forgot her.”
He seemed completely out of his mind. He rubbed his face on Eutostea’s palm and licked it with his tongue like a dog. Eutostea reached out the other hand and grabbed him by the cheek. Dionysus’ face froze. He blinked his eyes and hugged her with a stupid look on his face. Her hand patted him on the back of his head. It was a gesture of comfort to his grief. Dionysus laughed. But Apollo saw the sorrow in his eyes; faded like a thick mist.
“Would you like to come with me to my hometown?”
“You want us to go together?”
“Yes.”
“There are no Moussa, Lord Dionysus. There’s no temple. There’s no grave. There are only ashes… I don’t think I should leave you alone here.”
“It’s all right. I…”
“I know you’re not okay,” Eutostea said sharply.
He raised his head to see her face. Eutostea pressed his head hard. His nose was lodged in the sweet-scented nape of her neck. Apollo thought it was an envious position.
Eutostea stroked Dionysus’s head with great care. The hand touching the back of his head came down to his back and patted him. With a pleasant rhythm, Dionysus closed his eyes. A tear ran down her ash-covered cheek. Her comfort healed him. Vitality sprang up through him again.
Dionysus collected his facial expression a moment later. He also wiped his tears. He stroked the heads of the leopards who came to their owners. The River God was waiting for his order.
Dionysus picked up a pebble laying by the river and threw it over his shoulder without looking back. A mass of the river shaped like a wolf devoured the ashes of the temple. Sweeping them off the area. Eutostea sat on a leopard on the other side of the river and watched the scene unfold.
The land that had been her purpose, her refuge, and where she spent many seasons together with these people was swallowed up by the black river.
