Everyone cried. They were their loved ones. They gathered in honor of the brave men who fought together with swords for their country and prayed that they cross the Styx River safely.
Tyche stood behind the back of one of the men who was sobbing most sorrowfully.
He was Maceades, the commander of the Holy Army of Thebes at the prime age of thirty-five. He was grieving the death of Cayus, a 20-year-old young man who was his lover and comrade. His dead body, whose neck was cut open by Ares’ spear, was severed from his head. They struggled hard to collect his body quickly amidst the pandemonium of the corpses.
Since he’s been riding on horseback to crush the Marea army’s battle lines, Maceades belatedly learned that he had not been able to see Cayus since he won the battle and sobbed at the sight of his body in the cart.
“I’m sorry to be alive. I’ll catch up with you soon. Please stand at the edge of the river Styx and wait for me,” said Maceades.
He stroked his cold lover’s cheeks repeatedly whispering his promise, but soon collapsed. He sobbed sticking his tearful cheeks against the corpse’s face.
Tyche turned the ball in her hand behind him. The goddess’s face was full of laughter. She was Moira, the goddess of fortune. The ball carried by Tyche, meant uncertainty that she could kill either of them depending on which way it fell.
Don’t get involved in the human war.
Zeus’ orders were strict. Tyche gave a lovely smile. She squeezed Maceades’ shoulder slightly. Her strength cannot compare to that of the twelve Gods, and will not be of much help.
Tyche opened her red lips and hummed the tune.
“O wandering warriors, heed my plea!
Hither convene! Whomsoever of thee to despair upon sending thy beloved.
Withered the beloved’s body shalt be,
Sauntered the skin with mites and bones with maggots be grooved,
Blinded with dirt, the lifeless eyes shalt not see,
The unsealed sores akin to an abyss erupted,
Greeting death, hast left thee teary.
Hither convene! Whomsoever of thee to despair upon sending thy beloved,
Thither went thy greatest pursued virtue; a lover.
Thither lay thy part whole!
It is not yet departed for it lodge naught in the rotting cadaver,
But engraved within the soul,
Thy love shan’t end ever.”
Tyche walked to the Wall, finishing her long song. She caught the horn she had put down again. Gold coins poured about like a lie. The goddess left the fort. Leaving behind the weeping soldiers, she disappeared, creating a golden path into the darkness.
***
The leopard’s injury was not a big deal, so he recovered after a day. However, Mariad and Eonia stayed only beside Eutostea, wary of Dionysus. The beasts sometimes licked her face wet with their tongues in tears; showing grief. She disregarded the temple she had been diligently looking after and stayed in bed. Hugging her knees, she lowered her head. And folded her body as it was. She curled up on herself like the hermit crab hiding in its scab.
Thebes were destroyed.
It will soon be, if not yet.
The thought tore her heart to shrivels. Eutostea closed her eyes. The royal palace was taken down and the royal family was taken prisoners. The position of royalty from a defeated country is useless. A prisoner of war is a slave. Eutostea was madly curious about the safety of her family. She was afraid that they were being treated so badly that they would rather die than live.
Askitea and Hersia were not strong girls whose wills were hard enough for them to kill themselves, so she thought they would survive in spite of their sufferings. Then she became sadder.
She seemed to be a coward, escaping from this person and that. Everyone was a victim of war. Except for Eutostea who was basking in the paradise created by Dionysus.
Eutostea sent the Moussa, who delivered food, back again and again.
“Until when will you starve yourself…?”
When she asked with a tearful look, she shook her head faintly.
Eutostea closed her eyes tightly. She fell asleep for a while and woke up, seeing Dionysus sitting on the bed. Stirring the chilled soup with a spoon, his green eyes scanned her face. She quickly shook herself awake from her drowsiness.
“Eat it. Everybody’s worried,” he patted the bowl and ordered her.
Everyone cried. They were their loved ones. They gathered in honor of the brave men who fought together with swords for their country and prayed that they cross the Styx River safely.
Tyche stood behind the back of one of the men who was sobbing most sorrowfully.
He was Maceades, the commander of the Holy Army of Thebes at the prime age of thirty-five. He was grieving the death of Cayus, a 20-year-old young man who was his lover and comrade. His dead body, whose neck was cut open by Ares’ spear, was severed from his head. They struggled hard to collect his body quickly amidst the pandemonium of the corpses.
Since he’s been riding on horseback to crush the Marea army’s battle lines, Maceades belatedly learned that he had not been able to see Cayus since he won the battle and sobbed at the sight of his body in the cart.
“I’m sorry to be alive. I’ll catch up with you soon. Please stand at the edge of the river Styx and wait for me,” said Maceades.
He stroked his cold lover’s cheeks repeatedly whispering his promise, but soon collapsed. He sobbed sticking his tearful cheeks against the corpse’s face.
Tyche turned the ball in her hand behind him. The goddess’s face was full of laughter. She was Moira, the goddess of fortune. The ball carried by Tyche, meant uncertainty that she could kill either of them depending on which way it fell.
Don’t get involved in the human war.
Zeus’ orders were strict. Tyche gave a lovely smile. She squeezed Maceades’ shoulder slightly. Her strength cannot compare to that of the twelve Gods, and will not be of much help.
Tyche opened her red lips and hummed the tune.
“O wandering warriors, heed my plea!
Hither convene! Whomsoever of thee to despair upon sending thy beloved.
Withered the beloved’s body shalt be,
Sauntered the skin with mites and bones with maggots be grooved,
Blinded with dirt, the lifeless eyes shalt not see,
The unsealed sores akin to an abyss erupted,
Greeting death, hast left thee teary.
Hither convene! Whomsoever of thee to despair upon sending thy beloved,
Thither went thy greatest pursued virtue; a lover.
Thither lay thy part whole!
It is not yet departed for it lodge naught in the rotting cadaver,
But engraved within the soul,
Thy love shan’t end ever.”
Tyche walked to the Wall, finishing her long song. She caught the horn she had put down again. Gold coins poured about like a lie. The goddess left the fort. Leaving behind the weeping soldiers, she disappeared, creating a golden path into the darkness.
***
The leopard’s injury was not a big deal, so he recovered after a day. However, Mariad and Eonia stayed only beside Eutostea, wary of Dionysus. The beasts sometimes licked her face wet with their tongues in tears; showing grief. She disregarded the temple she had been diligently looking after and stayed in bed. Hugging her knees, she lowered her head. And folded her body as it was. She curled up on herself like the hermit crab hiding in its scab.
Thebes were destroyed.
It will soon be, if not yet.
The thought tore her heart to shrivels. Eutostea closed her eyes. The royal palace was taken down and the royal family was taken prisoners. The position of royalty from a defeated country is useless. A prisoner of war is a slave. Eutostea was madly curious about the safety of her family. She was afraid that they were being treated so badly that they would rather die than live.
Askitea and Hersia were not strong girls whose wills were hard enough for them to kill themselves, so she thought they would survive in spite of their sufferings. Then she became sadder.
She seemed to be a coward, escaping from this person and that. Everyone was a victim of war. Except for Eutostea who was basking in the paradise created by Dionysus.
Eutostea sent the Moussa, who delivered food, back again and again.
“Until when will you starve yourself…?”
When she asked with a tearful look, she shook her head faintly.
Eutostea closed her eyes tightly. She fell asleep for a while and woke up, seeing Dionysus sitting on the bed. Stirring the chilled soup with a spoon, his green eyes scanned her face. She quickly shook herself awake from her drowsiness.
“Eat it. Everybody’s worried,” he patted the bowl and ordered her.
