“Mother, that pond may be the fountain of the rumor. It’ll cure you!”
“Child, don’t recklessly touch the water. This might be Dionysus’ temple.”
“It’s not water, it’s alcohol. Mother, come here and wet your throat.”
“Marche! If you touch a god’s things carelessly, you’ll be bestowed a terrible punishment!”
“But…”
The son withdrew his hand from the pond. He came to her to hold her in obedience to his mother’s words.
“There will be a priest. Let’s ask them not to make a fuss, but to let us stay only for one night.”
“But there’s no one here, mother.”
Moussa took Eutostea’s arm. She seemed to say it was time for her to step forward. Eutostea thought so, too. She took Moussa out of the coniferous forest. Their sudden appearance surprised the old woman and her son.
“Don’t be afraid. I’m Eutostea, the priestess of the temple.”
“We’re not here to rob, priest. We’re travelers passing by. We got lost and ended up here,” said the son. Seeing closely, he looked as old as the old woman, beset by hard labor. He straightened his back as if to protect his mother.
The old woman said politely, holding her son’s arm, “I didn’t know there was a temple here, so I couldn’t prepare a sacrifice. Excuse me for my ignorance. Please don’t be angry.”
“No, Lord Dionysus does not force offerings from the poor,” said Eutostea, smiling softly. Her god, who was begging Apollo to offer him gold coins, crossed her mind but she tried to ignore that image.
“As expected, it was Dionysus’ temple,” The old woman said, expressing that her guess was correct. She forced her eyes to the direction of Eutostea’s voice.
“You are the first visitors. It hasn’t been long since the temple got dressed up. If you need a place to stay overnight, I’ll give you a room. Have you eaten?” Feeling hungry herself, Eutostea asked them.
The old woman who was too ashamed to visit a temple empty-handed refused to have a meal. However, her son’s stomach rumbled.
“We wandered through the forest for the past four days. I’m fine. Just my mother…”
Her son asked full of shame.
“There is a lot of food. It’s enough for the three of us. A priest’s pleasure is to serve a visitor to the temple. Please don’t hesitate to eat.”
When Eutostea spoke, the Moussa, who had been hiding in her shadow, appeared. The old woman didn’t see them, but the son backed away in amazement at the sudden presence of the fairy-like creatures.
“Fai-fairies?”
“Marche?”
The old woman asked, and her son whispered in her ear.
“I’ve heard that Lord Dionysus always has beautiful Moussa by his side. It must be them,” she said with a sickly smile. “I’m very, very grateful to be served by fairies. Thank you, priest.”
The son suddenly approached and bowed his head at the foot of Eutostea. She tried to raise him up in embarrassment. But before that he said, looking at her feet first, “But priest, there’s something more important than food. My mother is very ill. I came here because I heard there was a strange mineral water with healing abilities flowing somewhere, but I couldn’t find it. I can’t live a single day without my mother. Can you cure my mother? Would you please give her a sip of the sacred liquor in that pond?”
“Oh, that liquor is…”
Eutostea looked at the son’s hunched back and the old woman’s sickly face behind him, and the quiet, fluttering pond surface.
‘It’s an aphrodisiac though…’
Eutostea struggled to voice the truth out loud. But the human man called Marche seemed to believe the wine of the temple to be some kind of a healing elixir because it looked clear and pure. He firmly believed that his mother would be better if only she drank from it. Eutostea wondered how to break the news to him.
“Just give it to her,” said Dionysus, who came down with the wind like a feather.
Eutostea arched her eyebrows in surprise. Only his reflection in her round eyes could he be seen. The dull human man and woman could not see his manifestation. Dionysus slightly tapped Eutostea’s shoulders and wrapped her in his arms. He sighed, gently. Though he looked tired, he smiled a fresh smile.
“It’s not a difficult thing. Just give it to her. And let’s see what happens.”
‘You’re trying to poison a possible new devotee?’
Eutostea muted her lips as she elbowed him in the stomach. The human man shut his eyes tightly because he thought she was reciting a spell. Eutostea smoothed her elbow, which had bounced off the firm muscles of Dionysus. It only hurt her and didn’t affect him much.
“She won’t die.”
‘How do you know?’
“Just my premonition?”
‘You think you know what is going to happen. Are you Apollo now?’
“Let’s stop talking about him. I feel like I’ve seen him all day. Now, Eutostea, put your liquor in this golden cup and pass it to them. That old woman is going to drink anyway. She would think that she was energized.”
“Mother, that pond may be the fountain of the rumor. It’ll cure you!”
“Child, don’t recklessly touch the water. This might be Dionysus’ temple.”
“It’s not water, it’s alcohol. Mother, come here and wet your throat.”
“Marche! If you touch a god’s things carelessly, you’ll be bestowed a terrible punishment!”
“But…”
The son withdrew his hand from the pond. He came to her to hold her in obedience to his mother’s words.
“There will be a priest. Let’s ask them not to make a fuss, but to let us stay only for one night.”
“But there’s no one here, mother.”
Moussa took Eutostea’s arm. She seemed to say it was time for her to step forward. Eutostea thought so, too. She took Moussa out of the coniferous forest. Their sudden appearance surprised the old woman and her son.
“Don’t be afraid. I’m Eutostea, the priestess of the temple.”
“We’re not here to rob, priest. We’re travelers passing by. We got lost and ended up here,” said the son. Seeing closely, he looked as old as the old woman, beset by hard labor. He straightened his back as if to protect his mother.
The old woman said politely, holding her son’s arm, “I didn’t know there was a temple here, so I couldn’t prepare a sacrifice. Excuse me for my ignorance. Please don’t be angry.”
“No, Lord Dionysus does not force offerings from the poor,” said Eutostea, smiling softly. Her god, who was begging Apollo to offer him gold coins, crossed her mind but she tried to ignore that image.
“As expected, it was Dionysus’ temple,” The old woman said, expressing that her guess was correct. She forced her eyes to the direction of Eutostea’s voice.
“You are the first visitors. It hasn’t been long since the temple got dressed up. If you need a place to stay overnight, I’ll give you a room. Have you eaten?” Feeling hungry herself, Eutostea asked them.
The old woman who was too ashamed to visit a temple empty-handed refused to have a meal. However, her son’s stomach rumbled.
“We wandered through the forest for the past four days. I’m fine. Just my mother…”
Her son asked full of shame.
“There is a lot of food. It’s enough for the three of us. A priest’s pleasure is to serve a visitor to the temple. Please don’t hesitate to eat.”
When Eutostea spoke, the Moussa, who had been hiding in her shadow, appeared. The old woman didn’t see them, but the son backed away in amazement at the sudden presence of the fairy-like creatures.
“Fai-fairies?”
“Marche?”
The old woman asked, and her son whispered in her ear.
“I’ve heard that Lord Dionysus always has beautiful Moussa by his side. It must be them,” she said with a sickly smile. “I’m very, very grateful to be served by fairies. Thank you, priest.”
The son suddenly approached and bowed his head at the foot of Eutostea. She tried to raise him up in embarrassment. But before that he said, looking at her feet first, “But priest, there’s something more important than food. My mother is very ill. I came here because I heard there was a strange mineral water with healing abilities flowing somewhere, but I couldn’t find it. I can’t live a single day without my mother. Can you cure my mother? Would you please give her a sip of the sacred liquor in that pond?”
“Oh, that liquor is…”
Eutostea looked at the son’s hunched back and the old woman’s sickly face behind him, and the quiet, fluttering pond surface.
‘It’s an aphrodisiac though…’
Eutostea struggled to voice the truth out loud. But the human man called Marche seemed to believe the wine of the temple to be some kind of a healing elixir because it looked clear and pure. He firmly believed that his mother would be better if only she drank from it. Eutostea wondered how to break the news to him.
“Just give it to her,” said Dionysus, who came down with the wind like a feather.
Eutostea arched her eyebrows in surprise. Only his reflection in her round eyes could he be seen. The dull human man and woman could not see his manifestation. Dionysus slightly tapped Eutostea’s shoulders and wrapped her in his arms. He sighed, gently. Though he looked tired, he smiled a fresh smile.
“It’s not a difficult thing. Just give it to her. And let’s see what happens.”
‘You’re trying to poison a possible new devotee?’
Eutostea muted her lips as she elbowed him in the stomach. The human man shut his eyes tightly because he thought she was reciting a spell. Eutostea smoothed her elbow, which had bounced off the firm muscles of Dionysus. It only hurt her and didn’t affect him much.
“She won’t die.”
‘How do you know?’
“Just my premonition?”
‘You think you know what is going to happen. Are you Apollo now?’
“Let’s stop talking about him. I feel like I’ve seen him all day. Now, Eutostea, put your liquor in this golden cup and pass it to them. That old woman is going to drink anyway. She would think that she was energized.”
