Eutostea revealed her identity to the puzzled mother and son.
“I am the third princess of Thebes, who was expelled from the palace for wrongful deeds before being collected by Lord Dionysus.”
“Princess…”
The old woman stepped back, saying that she had committed a sin. Her son Marche also looked surprised.
“As long as I’m a priest, I’ve given up the princess title. But my country has been at war for months now…so I’m in a hurry. When I went to Delphi to offer my tribute, it was peaceful…. I can’t believe it. Is this really certain news? Wasn’t it miscommunicated through a person?”
“You mean the first day of May at the Temple of Apollo? Priest. You really didn’t know? It’s January now. The new year has come,” said Marche, tilting his head.
Eutostea cast her eyes at Dionysus lying on the altar to make sure his words were true. Her god, lying like this, the most leisurely in the world, sat on the altar with his legs stretched out. He was looking at her with his elbows on his knees and his chin rested on his hands. The bored green eyes did not try to deny the fact. Eutostea clenched her fist.
“You’ve got to go, folks.”
She gave the mother and son pair a Moussa to guide them out of the temple safely. They bowed so deeply that their foreheads touched the floor before they left saying that they will start worshipping Dionysus. Eutostea was not happy at all, even though there were two new devotees she had desperately hoped for. Her face was stained with tears, her short hair fluttering. Her ferocious eyes were glaring at Dionysus.
“Dionysus, How long have I been here?” asked Eutostea in a calm voice. Dionysus knows she marks the papyrus paper she hid under her bed every day. The number of strokes was barely amounting to eleven.
“The seasons have changed three times and it’s about time for the new year to begin.”
“Three seasons, not days?”
“…”
“Why is it… does time run differently here than it does outside?”
Dionysus shook his head.
“If I knew how to slow down time, would I have let Ariadne die? The time here and the time outside are the same. It’s just that you’ve become so used to this monotonous life that you’ve forgotten the flow of time.”
The temple of Dionysus is a tomb. A frozen, a monotonous place. If human history is a tapestry made of colorful threads, this place is black and white. Even the sense of time passing by becomes dull. But the grains of sand in the hourglass are falling off faithfully. Dionysus doubted that she would understand this principle.
“How many months have passed?”
“It’s winter outside.”
“But I’ve been to the riverside. Not even the autumn leaves have fallen. It was a perfect spring.”
“That’s because it’s my territory. You’ve never taken a step out of my sphere yet, Eutostea.”
It was in his strength to maintain the mild weather. Eutostea realized that it was useless to save firewood for winter. When she thought so, she understood everything. No matter how much you try to fill it up, the temple, the clothes that won’t get dirty even if worn for a long time, the food and alcohol that never lacked, the bored Moussa and leopards. It’s a well-drawn place. This place was…
“Then did Dionysus know there was a war going on in Thebes?”
In a feeble voice, Eutostea questioned him. Dionysus tacitly confirmed.
“Why!” she shouted loudly. A sense of betrayal was expressed in her wide open eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“…”
“Ha… you must have felt no obligation to tell me.”
With Dionysus silent, she gave the answer herself. Eutostea’s face twisted painfully. Her knees failed her and flopped down on the grass. She plucked the grass with her bare hands because there was no other way for her to express her sadness. The grass soaked into her hands. The bare feet of Dionysus were visible in her subdued vision. He fell on one knee and lowered himself with a sullen expression, his eyes shook confusedly.
“Why are you crying? Eutostea.”
Eutostea revealed her identity to the puzzled mother and son.
“I am the third princess of Thebes, who was expelled from the palace for wrongful deeds before being collected by Lord Dionysus.”
“Princess…”
The old woman stepped back, saying that she had committed a sin. Her son Marche also looked surprised.
“As long as I’m a priest, I’ve given up the princess title. But my country has been at war for months now…so I’m in a hurry. When I went to Delphi to offer my tribute, it was peaceful…. I can’t believe it. Is this really certain news? Wasn’t it miscommunicated through a person?”
“You mean the first day of May at the Temple of Apollo? Priest. You really didn’t know? It’s January now. The new year has come,” said Marche, tilting his head.
Eutostea cast her eyes at Dionysus lying on the altar to make sure his words were true. Her god, lying like this, the most leisurely in the world, sat on the altar with his legs stretched out. He was looking at her with his elbows on his knees and his chin rested on his hands. The bored green eyes did not try to deny the fact. Eutostea clenched her fist.
“You’ve got to go, folks.”
She gave the mother and son pair a Moussa to guide them out of the temple safely. They bowed so deeply that their foreheads touched the floor before they left saying that they will start worshipping Dionysus. Eutostea was not happy at all, even though there were two new devotees she had desperately hoped for. Her face was stained with tears, her short hair fluttering. Her ferocious eyes were glaring at Dionysus.
“Dionysus, How long have I been here?” asked Eutostea in a calm voice. Dionysus knows she marks the papyrus paper she hid under her bed every day. The number of strokes was barely amounting to eleven.
“The seasons have changed three times and it’s about time for the new year to begin.”
“Three seasons, not days?”
“…”
“Why is it… does time run differently here than it does outside?”
Dionysus shook his head.
“If I knew how to slow down time, would I have let Ariadne die? The time here and the time outside are the same. It’s just that you’ve become so used to this monotonous life that you’ve forgotten the flow of time.”
The temple of Dionysus is a tomb. A frozen, a monotonous place. If human history is a tapestry made of colorful threads, this place is black and white. Even the sense of time passing by becomes dull. But the grains of sand in the hourglass are falling off faithfully. Dionysus doubted that she would understand this principle.
“How many months have passed?”
“It’s winter outside.”
“But I’ve been to the riverside. Not even the autumn leaves have fallen. It was a perfect spring.”
“That’s because it’s my territory. You’ve never taken a step out of my sphere yet, Eutostea.”
It was in his strength to maintain the mild weather. Eutostea realized that it was useless to save firewood for winter. When she thought so, she understood everything. No matter how much you try to fill it up, the temple, the clothes that won’t get dirty even if worn for a long time, the food and alcohol that never lacked, the bored Moussa and leopards. It’s a well-drawn place. This place was…
“Then did Dionysus know there was a war going on in Thebes?”
In a feeble voice, Eutostea questioned him. Dionysus tacitly confirmed.
“Why!” she shouted loudly. A sense of betrayal was expressed in her wide open eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“…”
“Ha… you must have felt no obligation to tell me.”
With Dionysus silent, she gave the answer herself. Eutostea’s face twisted painfully. Her knees failed her and flopped down on the grass. She plucked the grass with her bare hands because there was no other way for her to express her sadness. The grass soaked into her hands. The bare feet of Dionysus were visible in her subdued vision. He fell on one knee and lowered himself with a sullen expression, his eyes shook confusedly.
“Why are you crying? Eutostea.”
