“The One and Only” Ch. 11

He watched the sea churn and revolt, waiting for the ship that had dropped him off there to return.

They came out of the woods. They didn't even bother to sneak up on him. Looking the way they did, sporting the blades they did, they knew Dionysus wouldn't run.

The three figures approached, rainwater and alcohol dripping down their beards, their jovial chuckling audible even above the rain. They weren't in a hurry. They were prepared. They had ropes. The largest of the three broke off from the rest and approached Dionysus, his sword drawn.

“Don't scream boy. Don't say a word unless I tell ya."

Dionysus remained silent, fear gripping his heart.

“You alone?"

He nodded, wiping rain from his face.

“Good. Bas! Tie up the boy. Bet a well dressed boy like you would fetch a fair ransom. Or not. Either way we will find a way to have fun with ya."

“I can't fasten the ropes."

“Eh," the big one responded. ”What are you on about?"

“I don't know," Bas responded. “I can't tighten the ropes. They keep falling off."

The big man's eyes narrowed on Dionysus as he grabbed him by the hair. ”What are you doing? You trying to get me angry? Trying to make trouble?"

”Nnn...no...no. I swear!"

The big one released his hair, pushing him into the sand. ”Forget the ropes. Just get him to the ship. Scrawny boy like that isn't going anywhere."

Bas grabbed Dionysus and dragged him to his feet, tugging him harshly towards a rowboat just around the bend, shoving him into it as Dionysus's shins caught on the edge of the boat, sending him tumbling in the space between the seats. The men ignored his position and settled into the boat, Bas and the other man grabbing the oars as they headed out, towards a large boat set in the distance.

The trip to the ship only served to further wet Dionysus, the sea buckling and finding its ways over the edges until he was settled into a small puddle, shaking.

Before he knew what was happening he found himself being jerked back and forth, up and down as the rowboat was raised up to the large vessel. He struggled to hear the voices over the storm, hoping with each crack of lightening that his father would show up to save him. But lightening came and passed, and the roll of thunder subdued, and he found himself still alone with his captors.

As they reached a level position with the vessel, they wasted no time grabbing Dionysus by the hair once again, tossing him onto the deck. People worked around him, most of which didn't even take notice of him as the three men exited the boat.

Dionysus looked up, watching as a tall, blonde figure heading towards him. He was handsome. Calmer than any of the others in the storm and he hoped that perhaps such a person would treat him sympathetically.

He was wrong.

The man knelt down and grabbed him by the throat, turning his head one way and then another, checking Dionysus's teeth and his ears, all the while ignoring the young boy squirming in his grip.

“Where are the ropes?" The man barked.

The ropes were tossed to the ground in front of him. ”Strangest thing captain. The ropes refused to fasten on the boy. Decided he wasn't going anywhere, so brought him as is."

The captain stared at them, and momentarily it looked like he was going to lash out at their incompetence. But instead he simply nodded, and continued his examination until a voice rose up from the maelstrom of the crew.

“Captain, what are you doing?"

“Isn't it obvious Acoetes? We are going to use this kid for ransom. Maybe make him a slave. Look at his dress. Even if we can't extort his family it will at least be fun breaking him."

Dionysus shook, calling out. ”I am a son of Olympus! My father is the high father Zeus! He...he Will punish you if you do not let me go!"

The captain slapped him across the face, leering down at him as he stood to his full height. “Don't talk back boy. Look around you. The sea is angry. The sky is angry. Even if you were a son of Olympus it is clear they don't care about you.”

Acoetes came to Dionysus's side, looking him over.

”This isn't good captain. We never agreed to do anything like this. Pillaging ships is one thing. But he's just a boy."

”And he will go for good money." The captain was clearly losing his patience with the helmsmen, his fists releasing and contracting as he waited for Acoetes to move away. Acoetes stayed where he was, between the captain and Dionysus.

“This isn't right. If he really is a son of Olympus then we can only bring on ruin by continuing to hurt the boy."

“He is just trying to save his own skin." The captain drew his sword, leveling it with Acoetes throat. “You are a good helmsmen. Don't think that means you can argue with me."

Dionysus felt his heart thundering in his chest, and felt himself absently stand. This man, this simple helmsmen showed bravery he had never seen before. And for the first time in his life he felt his will bubbling to the surface.

He could not remain a victim. He could stand by and let it happen, but he knew he wouldn't. And in a moment a light began to shed from his form.

The captain and Acoetes noticed, turning to face the boy cast in divine light. And the captain watched in horror as his crew stopped their actions and stared, their eyes blurry, like they were drugged. One by one they separated, though all of them knew their destination. They all simply headed towards the edges of the boat, and jumped into the churning waters of the Mediterranean.

Acoetes stepped to the side as Dionysus stepped forward, the captain backing up until his back was to the mast. Vines began to seep out from the cracks and fissures, running over the man and holding him fast. Then the vines began to squeeze, and the captain called out in pain only for the tendrils to begin running down his throat.

The man struggled, the breath in his body rapidly leaving him. Every vine that broke was replaced with another. Every bit of thrashing only caused the vines to tighten around him. He retched and gagged, liquid collecting in his throat as the rain ran down his open mouth. And the vines cut into his skin as they carved their way over his body. And so it continued until finally his muffled screams stopped, and Dionysus and Acoetes found themselves as the only living things on the ship.

Acoetes stood still. He tried to process the empty ship. His dead captain pinned to the mast covered in vines. Dionysus began to shudder as the glow began to fade. And then he began to cry, first soft sobs, then full on screams of anguish. Acoetes saw the young god as he really was, and he moved to him.

He got down on his knees and he held the frightened boy. And the boy reached out and gripped the mans shirt, drawing himself in, trying to shut out the world. And so it was as the storm and the seas continued to seethe, oblivious to the boat and the figures on it.

Slowly, patiently, Dionysus returned himself to the here and now. The birds were singing again, and he tried his best to block it out, instead focusing on the sound of the wind moving its way through the trees. As he walked, he eventually began to hear the sound of water; the gentle pulse of the ocean settling and shifting. And as he neared, the sound became louder and louder.

At last the tree line broke, as he found himself looking down from a tall outcropping of rock at a pristine beach, unmarked by human contact.

It had been a long time since anyone had tried to find the entrance to the underworld. In that time many theories had developed among mortals. Some imagined it was simply an ethereal thing, not bound to this world. Others imagined that it was perhaps at the deepest depths of the ocean, or even at the end of the world.

There was truth to the last statement.

Across an ocean, in a land untouched by any ancient Greeks or Romans lay a land that may as well have been the edge of oblivion.

Dionysus climbed down, eventually settling in the sand below, heated by the late afternoon sun. He scanned the rock, until he found what he was looking for. It was a tiny break in the rock, hidden mostly by sand. And so he got down and his hands and knees and began to dig.

It took less than a half hour to get the hole big enough for him to crawl into. The space seemed to relent to his arrival, shifting to accommodate him. He wandered blindly in the dark, yet after all these centuries he remembered the way well. And when at last the area opened up into a large cavern, he was left feeling wistful and full of regret when a long whine echoed through the chamber.

He watched as two sets of glowing, yellow eyes greeted him in the dark. And he found himself smiling when those eyes were followed soon there after by another set, a wet nose greeting his extended hand.

Cerberus's eyes wildly looked around, searching. Dionysus sighed, scratching him behind his ears as another whine escaped the hound of hell.

“I'm sorry boy. He isn't coming back...None of them are."

Dionysus went to bury his face in its fur, but Cerberus instead simply stepped to the side and out of his path. In front of him stood a large, intricate door, a thick layer of dust settled on the handle. He reached out and wiped off some of the dust, revealing intricate stories told in pictures. Stories of a forgotten age far removed from the present.

Dionysus felt his limbs lighten as luminescence began to emit from his form, the cavern bathed in light for the first in centuries. He stood, soaking in the moment, feeling the energy flowing through him. And for the first time in a long time Dionysus didn't feel ancient. He didn't feel pain or regret. And as he grabbed a single bottle from his bag and opened the door, only one thought remained in his mind.

He looked back only once, then took a deep breath and headed inside, the thick door settling back into place without any hesitation.