Beauty of Thebes

Chapter 31: Artemis Takes Shot 

When the sound of the goddesses elegant voices disappeared, their ambient voices near the surrounding, the loud snores of mortal men and women along the streets, the chirps of the grass and bugs, the mewls of a stray cat scavenging through the food littered across the town from last night’s festival. 

Eutostea picked up a pair of the golden chalice left behind. 

She chuckled. 

What was that? Was this a token of his sincere proposal? 

What an odd god. 

Though she wanted to throw them away, Eutostea didn’t want to face the god’s wrath, so she packed it along with her belongings. She then looked over the wagon full of tributes dubiously. Thankfully, the wine was safe. 

The goddess of dawn, Eos, awakened and painted the whole sky with brightness.
 

With the festival coming to an end, the drunken folks found themselves in completely different places from where they remember. Some were positioned upside down in a lawn, whereas others slept on top of slanted rooftops. The merchants, too, slowly regained their senses. Even Paeon, who slept in drunken stupor in the middle of the square, began to rouse. 

The dim rays of light began to stretch across the earth. All those who watched as daylight arrived all thought the same: ‘I can’t remember what happened.’ 

“It seems that Dionysus visited us last night,” said a stranger, speech slurred and incoherent. 

“If that’s true, then I’m glad the effects weren’t severe. We’ve forgotten where we were and woke up in an unfamiliar place,” another commented, relieved. 

The traveling party from Thebes groggily walked back to their temporary dwelling to regroup. 

The first thing Paeon did was inspect the wagon holding the tributes to the temple. Though the items were arranged strangely, they were all safe, and the guards tasked with watching over the tributes were praised despite Eutostea knowing that they did nothing but snore the night away. 

Eutostea sighed; she was the only one who fully remembered the events of the previous night.
 

*** 

Once a year, Apollo vacationed at the city of Hyperborea—named after the Hyperboreans, a race of giant-like creatures—which was located in the north of Thrace. 

The land had no crops, only the harsh ocean and the constant overcast weather. Though the soil was barren, similar to the underworld, it slowly shone and was brought back to life from the dead ground in the form of flowers under Apollo’s light. 

But as Dionysus once mentioned, this year’s visit was much earlier than previous years. Moreover, it was the first time Apollo had forgone the festival and tributes altogether and holed himself up at Hyperborea. 

It was why Artemis decided to make an appearance where her brother was without announcement. 

A field that was as dry and barren as the desert, the sun beating down on the mounds of sand, and with not a thing of existence, Artemis was able to spot her brother quickly. He slept under the shade of the laurel tree he so dearly loved. She put her hand against the bark of the tree that was at least a century old and tried to guess its age, but alas, there were no answers within the rough bark of the tree. 

“Brother, you know that this tree’s malnourished and dehydrated waiting for you. You only come to visit once a year. Just for that annual meeting, it endures this heat waiting for you.” 

It was something like love. 

The reason why this tree, which was originally located in the Forest of Delos, came out here to take root was because of Apollo. 

Artemis oftentimes thought of her brother a pervert. 

Apollo raised an eyebrow. His eyes shone like rubies, emitting a bright red light. “Didn’t you say you were going to hunt wild boars? What’re you doing here?” 

As if confirming his words, Artemis, indeed, had her precious case of arrows strapped to her back. The arrows were made out of bayberry branches, making them flexible and able to withstand tension well. 

She took the bowstring bordered with silver lining that shone like moonlight and with the hamstring made from a titan—something that even a strong, burly man would have difficulty pulling taut—and effortlessly pulled the bowstring back, grabbing one of the arrows from her back. 

“I wanted to practice shots here.” 

Upon hearing his little sister planning to shoot volleys of arrows into empty air like this barren wasteland, Apollo thought that she had chosen a well-suited spot.