If she were to beg him, to plead for him to punish those reckless ones who were destroying Thebes, perhaps the god who had fallen deeply for her would agree. The god of wine, Dionysus, read the priestess’s thoughts.
“What are you hesitating for? Go ahead.”
Dionysus subtly prodded the back of the seated Eutostea with his finger. Then, he left the spot for the two of them. As he sat on the back of a leopard and disappeared into the darkness of the forest, a playful smile appeared on Dionysus’ lips. He intended to watch the unfolding drama closely. He imagined Apollo, intoxicated by the courage he believed in, offering victory in Thebes at Eutostea’s feet and then having his ankles severed by his father’s hand, plummeting to the bottom of Tartarus. Wasn’t it thrilling?
***
When the two were left alone, silence ensued. Eutostea looked at him wistfully. Seeing her slightly awkward expression, Apollo shyly averted his gaze. The distance between her and the god was just the width of their arms. Although Apollo could easily reach her if he stretched out his long arm, he was not captivated by appearances.
If one were to unfold the hidden gap between them, it would be a length reaching from the heavens all the way down to the realm of Hades. As long as Artemis’ curse exists, even if Eutostea slowly gnaws and pulls on the line, she will never be drawn closer. She is like a green light that can only be seen from afar.
He sank into melancholy.
“Do you have a request for me?”
He whispered without confidence. His voice was gloomy for a man who was willing to listen to anything she might say.
“…It’s about the deer… I didn’t know there were still animals to hunt nearby.”
Feeling that she should express gratitude for the food he had brought, Eutostea broached the topic. Apollo looked down at the neatly stacked pieces of meat and answered.
“In this area, there were only starving wolf packs. I hunted the doe in the Parnassus Mountains. The weather there isn’t as cold, so there were many well-fed animals that could find food. Sometimes, humans who come to Delphi to offer sacrifices would also throw food to them, so the population doesn’t decrease easily.”
The doe, an animal symbolizing Artemis, is respected by Greeks who do not harm it but feed and offer it as a sacrifice. Apollo, however, sees such sacred animals only as chunks of meat. Of course, the targets his arrows pierce are diverse. There are boars and bears, but hunting a doe seemed like venting his anger towards Artemis. He didn’t try to deny it.
“Thank you.”
Eutostea expressed gratitude on behalf of the humans for his efforts.
Apollo, fl**tered, squinted his eyes. Then he remembered Dionysus saying that he looked annoyingly handsome when making such expressions, so he relaxed his gaze. He even stretched out his hand and said, “It’s something I voluntarily do.”
Feeding human soldiers to their fill? Was he Demeter? That’s a lie. The only reason he had even the slightest interest in Thebes’ sacred troops was because Eutostea was among them. She repeatedly expressed her gratitude despite his objections. Apollo pushed her away, saying that his efforts were not worth her gratitude. It was an awkward conversation. Someone had to give in to end the talk. The loser was Apollo. He couldn’t resist Eutostea at all. In their relationship, he was deeply the weaker one.
“Apollo.”
“…”
“I heard from Dionysus about Ares. He said this war is his amusement.”
Apollo lifted his darkened eyes, hidden by the darkness, to look at her. Eutostea’s facial muscles tensed. Her cheeks, which had a healthy color, turned pale. She clenched her jaw, suppressing the fear rising in her throat.
“Will this war continue to ravage the continent, including Thebes, until his interest wanes?”
“Perhaps, ” Apollo answered.
“It seems that there are only meaningless battles ahead of us, with no chance of victory.” Eutostea laughed bitterly. “Since coming to the fortress, Dionysus and Apollo have acted as if to say, ‘from here on, it’s your problem.’ It seemed like the will of the gods not to interfere in human affairs. That’s why I hesitated even more to make this request.”
“…”
Eutostea cautiously licked her lips. But her voice didn’t come out. She hesitated and pondered until the very last moment. Apollo felt the thirst he had sensed in her dreams constricting his breath. He lifted his cold hand, washed in the chilly stream water, and grasped Eutostea’s chin, drawing her towards him. Their faces crossed, overlapping each other. Their noses touched, and their lips were only a paper-thin distance apart.
“Don’t hesitate to say anything in front of me,” he whispered, pleading. Though she was the one in need, it was the god who admired her that knelt before her. “Don’t hesitate to touch me. If you touch me, kiss me, and smile brightly, I’ll immerse myself in the utmost joy and happiness, and cry out like a mortal. Eutostea, you are such an existence to me.”
“…”
“Tell me what you wish for.”
“The victory of Thebes.”
“…”
Her wish poured out of her mouth like a burst dam.
“I want to rescue my captured family and reclaim our country. To do that, we need to win this war. Apollo.”
“…”
“Is it still too much to ask…?”
Eutostea tried to shake her head in disappointment. Apollo grabbed her cheek. Their gazes met like wine glasses clinking together.
“I’ll grant you that. I’ll give you the victory of Thebes. If that’s what you ask for. I’ll grant you anything.”
So touch me more.
If she were to beg him, to plead for him to punish those reckless ones who were destroying Thebes, perhaps the god who had fallen deeply for her would agree. The god of wine, Dionysus, read the priestess’s thoughts.
“What are you hesitating for? Go ahead.”
Dionysus subtly prodded the back of the seated Eutostea with his finger. Then, he left the spot for the two of them. As he sat on the back of a leopard and disappeared into the darkness of the forest, a playful smile appeared on Dionysus’ lips. He intended to watch the unfolding drama closely. He imagined Apollo, intoxicated by the courage he believed in, offering victory in Thebes at Eutostea’s feet and then having his ankles severed by his father’s hand, plummeting to the bottom of Tartarus. Wasn’t it thrilling?
***
When the two were left alone, silence ensued. Eutostea looked at him wistfully. Seeing her slightly awkward expression, Apollo shyly averted his gaze. The distance between her and the god was just the width of their arms. Although Apollo could easily reach her if he stretched out his long arm, he was not captivated by appearances.
If one were to unfold the hidden gap between them, it would be a length reaching from the heavens all the way down to the realm of Hades. As long as Artemis’ curse exists, even if Eutostea slowly gnaws and pulls on the line, she will never be drawn closer. She is like a green light that can only be seen from afar.
He sank into melancholy.
“Do you have a request for me?”
He whispered without confidence. His voice was gloomy for a man who was willing to listen to anything she might say.
“…It’s about the deer… I didn’t know there were still animals to hunt nearby.”
Feeling that she should express gratitude for the food he had brought, Eutostea broached the topic. Apollo looked down at the neatly stacked pieces of meat and answered.
“In this area, there were only starving wolf packs. I hunted the doe in the Parnassus Mountains. The weather there isn’t as cold, so there were many well-fed animals that could find food. Sometimes, humans who come to Delphi to offer sacrifices would also throw food to them, so the population doesn’t decrease easily.”
The doe, an animal symbolizing Artemis, is respected by Greeks who do not harm it but feed and offer it as a sacrifice. Apollo, however, sees such sacred animals only as chunks of meat. Of course, the targets his arrows pierce are diverse. There are boars and bears, but hunting a doe seemed like venting his anger towards Artemis. He didn’t try to deny it.
“Thank you.”
Eutostea expressed gratitude on behalf of the humans for his efforts.
Apollo, fl**tered, squinted his eyes. Then he remembered Dionysus saying that he looked annoyingly handsome when making such expressions, so he relaxed his gaze. He even stretched out his hand and said, “It’s something I voluntarily do.”
Feeding human soldiers to their fill? Was he Demeter? That’s a lie. The only reason he had even the slightest interest in Thebes’ sacred troops was because Eutostea was among them. She repeatedly expressed her gratitude despite his objections. Apollo pushed her away, saying that his efforts were not worth her gratitude. It was an awkward conversation. Someone had to give in to end the talk. The loser was Apollo. He couldn’t resist Eutostea at all. In their relationship, he was deeply the weaker one.
“Apollo.”
“…”
“I heard from Dionysus about Ares. He said this war is his amusement.”
Apollo lifted his darkened eyes, hidden by the darkness, to look at her. Eutostea’s facial muscles tensed. Her cheeks, which had a healthy color, turned pale. She clenched her jaw, suppressing the fear rising in her throat.
“Will this war continue to ravage the continent, including Thebes, until his interest wanes?”
“Perhaps, ” Apollo answered.
“It seems that there are only meaningless battles ahead of us, with no chance of victory.” Eutostea laughed bitterly. “Since coming to the fortress, Dionysus and Apollo have acted as if to say, ‘from here on, it’s your problem.’ It seemed like the will of the gods not to interfere in human affairs. That’s why I hesitated even more to make this request.”
“…”
Eutostea cautiously licked her lips. But her voice didn’t come out. She hesitated and pondered until the very last moment. Apollo felt the thirst he had sensed in her dreams constricting his breath. He lifted his cold hand, washed in the chilly stream water, and grasped Eutostea’s chin, drawing her towards him. Their faces crossed, overlapping each other. Their noses touched, and their lips were only a paper-thin distance apart.
“Don’t hesitate to say anything in front of me,” he whispered, pleading. Though she was the one in need, it was the god who admired her that knelt before her. “Don’t hesitate to touch me. If you touch me, kiss me, and smile brightly, I’ll immerse myself in the utmost joy and happiness, and cry out like a mortal. Eutostea, you are such an existence to me.”
“…”
“Tell me what you wish for.”
“The victory of Thebes.”
“…”
Her wish poured out of her mouth like a burst dam.
“I want to rescue my captured family and reclaim our country. To do that, we need to win this war. Apollo.”
“…”
“Is it still too much to ask…?”
Eutostea tried to shake her head in disappointment. Apollo grabbed her cheek. Their gazes met like wine glasses clinking together.
“I’ll grant you that. I’ll give you the victory of Thebes. If that’s what you ask for. I’ll grant you anything.”
So touch me more.
