“This whole island is full of firewood. Only trees grew thick in time. They’re so thick that I can’t think of them as an island floating on a lake. I don’t know whose intention it was. You’ve given me an axe like this, so I’ll be honored to cut it all.”
It was annoying to see. Dionysus spat out.
Apollo threw off the metal band he was wearing on his arm. The ax spun round in his grasp. At an alarming rate, a tree trunk as thick as an adult’s body began to fall.
“As expected, Apollo, who knocked down the giant snake Python!” the Moussa clapped her hands and murmured.
He heard it all.
Dionysus glared at them with glazing eyes.
The garden was very noisy with the cheers of the Moussa and the sound of Apollo’s axe.
It was so crowded.
Eutostea shook her head, recalling the stillness she had felt alone in the assembly hall yesterday evening. Mariad carried her gently into the temple.
The dishes were polished well so he enjoyed the oil.
Eutostea scrutinized the inside and outside of the brass bowl. It has been dry for a few days. The firewood dried up well. She went to the bowl reaching up to her waist and stacked the firewood like a tower in a square shape.
The Greeks believed that the higher the fire of the temple rose out of the bowl, the more the gods were listening to them. It was auspicious for the spark to spring up.
Eutostea continued to pile firewood so high that it seemed excessive. The mountain of firewood, which was piled up like a building, was built sturdily so that it wouldn’t collapse even if she let go of it.
“Goddess Hestia.”
She lit a firecracker to throw into the bowl. Eutostea prayed to the goddess of the brazier, holding together the long branch-like firecracker with her hands.
“This is my first greeting. Eutostea, Dionysus’ priest.”
‘I confer you this humble temple first. Don’t be angry at how it’s lacking and see the sincerity in it.’
Eutostea threw the firecracker in her hand into the firewood. From below, the flames grew bigger by nibbling away at the dry wood. Soon the whole tower was on fire. The flames soared as high as she wished they would.
“Somehow I’ve seen this place every day, but it feels new,” the Moussa, who was following her to light candles using the fire from the bowl, said.
“Now, you don’t have to catch fireflies,” Eutostea said to them. “I’ll keep taking care of this fire so it doesn’t go out.”
The Moussa gave her a look of respect.
***
Eutostea sat down to the floor of the assembly hall, clearing her body of signs of fatigue after moving for a while. She was about to go to the garden where Dionysus was cleaning up. She had walked confidently not riding Mariad, but her sore ankle throbbed as if the medicine’s effect had run out. She lost her center of gravity and sank down.
Coincidentally, she was in the pond, of which Dionysus boasted so much.
“Are you all right?”
When the Moussa shouted, the ears of the two gods outside also heard that she had fallen.
Eutostea was going to say, “It’s okay,” and “I just slipped,” listening to footsteps approaching her.
The floor under her palm was too wet to support her body. As soon as she figured that she had fallen inside the puddle of the pond, the amount of wetness quickly increased to fill up to her lower body. As the fountain burst, a clear, transparent liquid gushed over the pond.
“Eutostea!”
Apollo approached her, as she was sitting dazedly, unable to gauge what had happened. He splashed barefoot through the current. He helped her up, wet from head to toe. No, he hugged her. Eutostea grabbed his hand, astonished.
A stream of water flew into Apollo’s face. His hair was also wet and clung to his face as if he had just come out from a bath.
Eutostea called out in a bewildered voice.
“Lord Dionysus!” she shouted. “Liquor is coming out of my hand!”
It was not a cheerful tone.
It was a voice full of despair and resentment, telling him to do something about it.
“This whole island is full of firewood. Only trees grew thick in time. They’re so thick that I can’t think of them as an island floating on a lake. I don’t know whose intention it was. You’ve given me an axe like this, so I’ll be honored to cut it all.”
It was annoying to see. Dionysus spat out.
Apollo threw off the metal band he was wearing on his arm. The ax spun round in his grasp. At an alarming rate, a tree trunk as thick as an adult’s body began to fall.
“As expected, Apollo, who knocked down the giant snake Python!” the Moussa clapped her hands and murmured.
He heard it all.
Dionysus glared at them with glazing eyes.
The garden was very noisy with the cheers of the Moussa and the sound of Apollo’s axe.
It was so crowded.
Eutostea shook her head, recalling the stillness she had felt alone in the assembly hall yesterday evening. Mariad carried her gently into the temple.
The dishes were polished well so he enjoyed the oil.
Eutostea scrutinized the inside and outside of the brass bowl. It has been dry for a few days. The firewood dried up well. She went to the bowl reaching up to her waist and stacked the firewood like a tower in a square shape.
The Greeks believed that the higher the fire of the temple rose out of the bowl, the more the gods were listening to them. It was auspicious for the spark to spring up.
Eutostea continued to pile firewood so high that it seemed excessive. The mountain of firewood, which was piled up like a building, was built sturdily so that it wouldn’t collapse even if she let go of it.
“Goddess Hestia.”
She lit a firecracker to throw into the bowl. Eutostea prayed to the goddess of the brazier, holding together the long branch-like firecracker with her hands.
“This is my first greeting. Eutostea, Dionysus’ priest.”
‘I confer you this humble temple first. Don’t be angry at how it’s lacking and see the sincerity in it.’
Eutostea threw the firecracker in her hand into the firewood. From below, the flames grew bigger by nibbling away at the dry wood. Soon the whole tower was on fire. The flames soared as high as she wished they would.
“Somehow I’ve seen this place every day, but it feels new,” the Moussa, who was following her to light candles using the fire from the bowl, said.
“Now, you don’t have to catch fireflies,” Eutostea said to them. “I’ll keep taking care of this fire so it doesn’t go out.”
The Moussa gave her a look of respect.
***
Eutostea sat down to the floor of the assembly hall, clearing her body of signs of fatigue after moving for a while. She was about to go to the garden where Dionysus was cleaning up. She had walked confidently not riding Mariad, but her sore ankle throbbed as if the medicine’s effect had run out. She lost her center of gravity and sank down.
Coincidentally, she was in the pond, of which Dionysus boasted so much.
“Are you all right?”
When the Moussa shouted, the ears of the two gods outside also heard that she had fallen.
Eutostea was going to say, “It’s okay,” and “I just slipped,” listening to footsteps approaching her.
The floor under her palm was too wet to support her body. As soon as she figured that she had fallen inside the puddle of the pond, the amount of wetness quickly increased to fill up to her lower body. As the fountain burst, a clear, transparent liquid gushed over the pond.
“Eutostea!”
Apollo approached her, as she was sitting dazedly, unable to gauge what had happened. He splashed barefoot through the current. He helped her up, wet from head to toe. No, he hugged her. Eutostea grabbed his hand, astonished.
A stream of water flew into Apollo’s face. His hair was also wet and clung to his face as if he had just come out from a bath.
Eutostea called out in a bewildered voice.
“Lord Dionysus!” she shouted. “Liquor is coming out of my hand!”
It was not a cheerful tone.
It was a voice full of despair and resentment, telling him to do something about it.
