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To say Thea felt unsettled would be an understatement.
This unease had its root in many things, but most notably, the odd urgency she felt in her core to break away from her usual routine. As a devout and near ravenous follower of Dionysus, things always held a bit of certainty in her understanding of ritual and worship for the god of ecstasy and chaos. There was freedom that he offered that seemed to break the bonds of society and decorum, offering a release that was like no other.
And yet, there was something Thea desired that he did not fully champion.
Order..and knowledge of healing.
In the years since Evras became the first Thanasi since their mother to bear a child, Thea had a growing fascination with the human body and the herbal medicines that could help and harm. Her knowledge grew, though biased in the use of herbs and concoctions that could be used in the rituals both she and Nethis had revived and derived from old passages of Dionysian Mysteries that had been lost to time. That seemed her purpose for seeking out such knowledge, and yet, it felt hollow.
Never daring to say it aloud or even ponder it too long, lest Dionysus himself strike her with some form of curse for straying from the path, but a life lived in utter chaos could at time be exhausting. Was it possible to grow out of a belief?
In the months of solitude that befell her following Mihail's escape to Nethisa and Nethis' journey to Taengea, Thea sought routine and order - quite possibly the most un-Dionysian objectives possible. Questions plagued her, as well as a deeply rooted urge to find some form of spiritual balm to comfort this torment in her soul.
Her latest pursuit in documenting a codex of herbal properties and medicines led her to wonder: was this work guided by the hand of another?
Legend and myth led to one answer alone: Apollo. God of Light, Music, and Healing.
And the brother and utter converse of Dionysus.
Was this a test?
Considering the hand of such a diametrically opposed figure in her life led her to further mental torment and turmoil. Was it betraying everything she had lived for until this point by seeking out his guidance? Would there be repercussions?
All of these questions and more plagued her as her feet seemed to face resistance upon approaching the entrance to the Temple of Apollo, with her own, handcrafted bundle of incense containing barley, bay leaf, mugwort, and drenched in frankincense. The only sign of her anxiety as she crossed through the threshold was noted in the way she seemed to pinch and fidget with a stray stem of barley between her forefinger and thumb.
Swallowing hard, she adjusted the himation that draped from the crown of her head to her shoulders, wrapping around her like a shroud, as if to shield her from the eyes of those watching. Greeting one of the priests of the god, she questioned softly the appropriate manners expected within these walls.
All gods had their particulars. She imagined that Apollo was no different.
Light from large hanging oil chandeliers, candles, and intricately designed oil lamps flooded the room with enough light to make it appear as if she was standing in the sun. Of course, for the God of Light, that was to be expected.
Stepping to an empty alcove that was already blessed with offerings great and small, Thea nodded to the priest and then glanced around to either side of her before kneeling in front of the altar. The heat from the blazing pool of fire at the center of the offering bowl tempted a light sweat along her neck and where her peplos touched her skin, but she persisted.
Holding the the offering bundle to the flame, she watched as the plants and herbs were alight and curled in golden smolders before she placed the remainder of the bundle in the offering bowl. The pungent and herbal smoke filled the air and seemed to draw a silvery haze around the golden figure of the god before her. Inhaling deeply, she urged the fumes that entered her lungs to urge her words to come forward.
As they did, her voice was low and quiet, yet reverent as her eyes seemed to fix on the golden figure before her.
"Blessed Apollo, God of Light, Muse, and Healing. For the light in the sky that warms us and the joy of music to our ears...and the blessings of the earth that heal our bodies, we thank you," she began, echoing the gratitudes she offered reverently to Dionysus, but in a more particular fashion. Pausing a moment, her tongue pressed to the roof of her mouth, glancing down at the burning incense a moment before finally settling on what to say.
"You have brought me here," Thea said, plainly, as a partial statement and polite accusation, "And it has left me more confused than I thought possible." Her eyes shifted slightly to either side to assure that her words would not be overheard. Perhaps, this was not the tone to take with one of Zeus' sons, and yet she the frustrations deep within her soul in this battle between wine-stained dark and burning bright light seemed to drive her to the point of bluntness. Still, she took a breath before continuing, lest she let her frustrations bubble forth in a way that would threaten this. Her tones hushed again, as she mused and prayed.
"Your brother's call to me seemed undeniable, and yet...I sense your guidance of my hands in the art of medicine and healing. I have felt it before, in caring for my sister as she bore...and hopes to bear child. I have felt it in my attempts to care for my father and his afflictions. I have felt it in this...this unstoppable urge to write all that I know of the healing, though it is kept secret lest I be accused of knowing too much."
Her usual placid expression seemed to crumple slightly at the edges of her eyes, her brow furrowing in an unfamiliar manner that would cause wrinkles if she did it too often. It was the depth of feeling and questioning that burned at her, twisting something deep inside with uncertainty as she finally spoke again.
"I came here to ask....why."
Immediately, she shook her head as if to undo her question, before pausing once again.
"I can be no one else and yet I wonder why..."
Another pause as she swallowed, noting that the incense she brought had burned down nearly to ash, with slight glowing smolders at the edges. Was he still there, listening to her? Or...was this all in vain? Perhaps...she took the wrong approach, almost too abrasive in soul despite the dulcet tone of her voice. What if...she was mistaken in this altogether...
Was this asking too much? Or....was she asking the wrong thing?
She lowered her eyes a moment, thinking silently. For so long now she had felt this questioning and considered this a possibility, yet the fact that the two brother-gods were so dichotomic in nature seemed to frighten her. It was known that the gods could play with the beliefs of mortals, toying with their hearts and minds, sometimes into madness. It was her determination not to go mad that almost seemed to push her to the brink. She wanted answers, but...perhaps she had not earned them yet.
This was a risk, much like befriending two members of rival houses. And yet, had she not already done so in some sense, by being one of the few Thanasi not entirely loathed by the Kotas?
More confusion seemed to wash over her, enough to almost make her want to stand and storm from the temple in an uncharacteristic bout of temper. Yet, still, she knelt. It was a risk and a consideration that Dionysus may feel betrayed by her diversion away from his worship - all gods were jealous creatures that collected their followers like pawns. Still, if the God of Healing wanted to guide her hand - who could that help?
It could help Evras as she bore another child in her womb after a decade of loss and misfortune. It could help her father, as his mind seemed to slip away with each passing sunset, inflicting accidental pain on himself and others. It could help so many, should her findings lay written in a codex that could be used to improve the lives of others.
Nethis' voice seemed to creep into the back of her mind for a moment - since when did she care?
Another voice, Thea's own but slightly less familiar, seemed to tone back - since when had she not cared?
It was that second voice that seemed to bolster something within her, seeming to press her knees harder into the stone before her and causing her to look up at the golden figure again, who seemed a slight touch more radiant than before. Thea blinked uncertainly for a moment more as she took a deep inhale before fixing the golden god's face with her sharp, blue stare.
"If it is your will...teach me," she asked, more cautiously choosing her words and yet finding them more freely than before, she added, "My hands are yours. To serve, to heal, and to learn."
With that, the final embers of her offering turned to ash, leading her to stand. Somehow the floor beneath her felt as if it were made of surer stone than before. Adjusting her chiton and himation, she gave one last glance at the statue before her, bowing her head in a reverence that seemed odd yet fitting for her before she turned on her heels to the entrance of the temple.
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To say Thea felt unsettled would be an understatement.
This unease had its root in many things, but most notably, the odd urgency she felt in her core to break away from her usual routine. As a devout and near ravenous follower of Dionysus, things always held a bit of certainty in her understanding of ritual and worship for the god of ecstasy and chaos. There was freedom that he offered that seemed to break the bonds of society and decorum, offering a release that was like no other.
And yet, there was something Thea desired that he did not fully champion.
Order..and knowledge of healing.
In the years since Evras became the first Thanasi since their mother to bear a child, Thea had a growing fascination with the human body and the herbal medicines that could help and harm. Her knowledge grew, though biased in the use of herbs and concoctions that could be used in the rituals both she and Nethis had revived and derived from old passages of Dionysian Mysteries that had been lost to time. That seemed her purpose for seeking out such knowledge, and yet, it felt hollow.
Never daring to say it aloud or even ponder it too long, lest Dionysus himself strike her with some form of curse for straying from the path, but a life lived in utter chaos could at time be exhausting. Was it possible to grow out of a belief?
In the months of solitude that befell her following Mihail's escape to Nethisa and Nethis' journey to Taengea, Thea sought routine and order - quite possibly the most un-Dionysian objectives possible. Questions plagued her, as well as a deeply rooted urge to find some form of spiritual balm to comfort this torment in her soul.
Her latest pursuit in documenting a codex of herbal properties and medicines led her to wonder: was this work guided by the hand of another?
Legend and myth led to one answer alone: Apollo. God of Light, Music, and Healing.
And the brother and utter converse of Dionysus.
Was this a test?
Considering the hand of such a diametrically opposed figure in her life led her to further mental torment and turmoil. Was it betraying everything she had lived for until this point by seeking out his guidance? Would there be repercussions?
All of these questions and more plagued her as her feet seemed to face resistance upon approaching the entrance to the Temple of Apollo, with her own, handcrafted bundle of incense containing barley, bay leaf, mugwort, and drenched in frankincense. The only sign of her anxiety as she crossed through the threshold was noted in the way she seemed to pinch and fidget with a stray stem of barley between her forefinger and thumb.
Swallowing hard, she adjusted the himation that draped from the crown of her head to her shoulders, wrapping around her like a shroud, as if to shield her from the eyes of those watching. Greeting one of the priests of the god, she questioned softly the appropriate manners expected within these walls.
All gods had their particulars. She imagined that Apollo was no different.
Light from large hanging oil chandeliers, candles, and intricately designed oil lamps flooded the room with enough light to make it appear as if she was standing in the sun. Of course, for the God of Light, that was to be expected.
Stepping to an empty alcove that was already blessed with offerings great and small, Thea nodded to the priest and then glanced around to either side of her before kneeling in front of the altar. The heat from the blazing pool of fire at the center of the offering bowl tempted a light sweat along her neck and where her peplos touched her skin, but she persisted.
Holding the the offering bundle to the flame, she watched as the plants and herbs were alight and curled in golden smolders before she placed the remainder of the bundle in the offering bowl. The pungent and herbal smoke filled the air and seemed to draw a silvery haze around the golden figure of the god before her. Inhaling deeply, she urged the fumes that entered her lungs to urge her words to come forward.
As they did, her voice was low and quiet, yet reverent as her eyes seemed to fix on the golden figure before her.
"Blessed Apollo, God of Light, Muse, and Healing. For the light in the sky that warms us and the joy of music to our ears...and the blessings of the earth that heal our bodies, we thank you," she began, echoing the gratitudes she offered reverently to Dionysus, but in a more particular fashion. Pausing a moment, her tongue pressed to the roof of her mouth, glancing down at the burning incense a moment before finally settling on what to say.
"You have brought me here," Thea said, plainly, as a partial statement and polite accusation, "And it has left me more confused than I thought possible." Her eyes shifted slightly to either side to assure that her words would not be overheard. Perhaps, this was not the tone to take with one of Zeus' sons, and yet she the frustrations deep within her soul in this battle between wine-stained dark and burning bright light seemed to drive her to the point of bluntness. Still, she took a breath before continuing, lest she let her frustrations bubble forth in a way that would threaten this. Her tones hushed again, as she mused and prayed.
"Your brother's call to me seemed undeniable, and yet...I sense your guidance of my hands in the art of medicine and healing. I have felt it before, in caring for my sister as she bore...and hopes to bear child. I have felt it in my attempts to care for my father and his afflictions. I have felt it in this...this unstoppable urge to write all that I know of the healing, though it is kept secret lest I be accused of knowing too much."
Her usual placid expression seemed to crumple slightly at the edges of her eyes, her brow furrowing in an unfamiliar manner that would cause wrinkles if she did it too often. It was the depth of feeling and questioning that burned at her, twisting something deep inside with uncertainty as she finally spoke again.
"I came here to ask....why."
Immediately, she shook her head as if to undo her question, before pausing once again.
"I can be no one else and yet I wonder why..."
Another pause as she swallowed, noting that the incense she brought had burned down nearly to ash, with slight glowing smolders at the edges. Was he still there, listening to her? Or...was this all in vain? Perhaps...she took the wrong approach, almost too abrasive in soul despite the dulcet tone of her voice. What if...she was mistaken in this altogether...
Was this asking too much? Or....was she asking the wrong thing?
She lowered her eyes a moment, thinking silently. For so long now she had felt this questioning and considered this a possibility, yet the fact that the two brother-gods were so dichotomic in nature seemed to frighten her. It was known that the gods could play with the beliefs of mortals, toying with their hearts and minds, sometimes into madness. It was her determination not to go mad that almost seemed to push her to the brink. She wanted answers, but...perhaps she had not earned them yet.
This was a risk, much like befriending two members of rival houses. And yet, had she not already done so in some sense, by being one of the few Thanasi not entirely loathed by the Kotas?
More confusion seemed to wash over her, enough to almost make her want to stand and storm from the temple in an uncharacteristic bout of temper. Yet, still, she knelt. It was a risk and a consideration that Dionysus may feel betrayed by her diversion away from his worship - all gods were jealous creatures that collected their followers like pawns. Still, if the God of Healing wanted to guide her hand - who could that help?
It could help Evras as she bore another child in her womb after a decade of loss and misfortune. It could help her father, as his mind seemed to slip away with each passing sunset, inflicting accidental pain on himself and others. It could help so many, should her findings lay written in a codex that could be used to improve the lives of others.
Nethis' voice seemed to creep into the back of her mind for a moment - since when did she care?
Another voice, Thea's own but slightly less familiar, seemed to tone back - since when had she not cared?
It was that second voice that seemed to bolster something within her, seeming to press her knees harder into the stone before her and causing her to look up at the golden figure again, who seemed a slight touch more radiant than before. Thea blinked uncertainly for a moment more as she took a deep inhale before fixing the golden god's face with her sharp, blue stare.
"If it is your will...teach me," she asked, more cautiously choosing her words and yet finding them more freely than before, she added, "My hands are yours. To serve, to heal, and to learn."
With that, the final embers of her offering turned to ash, leading her to stand. Somehow the floor beneath her felt as if it were made of surer stone than before. Adjusting her chiton and himation, she gave one last glance at the statue before her, bowing her head in a reverence that seemed odd yet fitting for her before she turned on her heels to the entrance of the temple.
To say Thea felt unsettled would be an understatement.
This unease had its root in many things, but most notably, the odd urgency she felt in her core to break away from her usual routine. As a devout and near ravenous follower of Dionysus, things always held a bit of certainty in her understanding of ritual and worship for the god of ecstasy and chaos. There was freedom that he offered that seemed to break the bonds of society and decorum, offering a release that was like no other.
And yet, there was something Thea desired that he did not fully champion.
Order..and knowledge of healing.
In the years since Evras became the first Thanasi since their mother to bear a child, Thea had a growing fascination with the human body and the herbal medicines that could help and harm. Her knowledge grew, though biased in the use of herbs and concoctions that could be used in the rituals both she and Nethis had revived and derived from old passages of Dionysian Mysteries that had been lost to time. That seemed her purpose for seeking out such knowledge, and yet, it felt hollow.
Never daring to say it aloud or even ponder it too long, lest Dionysus himself strike her with some form of curse for straying from the path, but a life lived in utter chaos could at time be exhausting. Was it possible to grow out of a belief?
In the months of solitude that befell her following Mihail's escape to Nethisa and Nethis' journey to Taengea, Thea sought routine and order - quite possibly the most un-Dionysian objectives possible. Questions plagued her, as well as a deeply rooted urge to find some form of spiritual balm to comfort this torment in her soul.
Her latest pursuit in documenting a codex of herbal properties and medicines led her to wonder: was this work guided by the hand of another?
Legend and myth led to one answer alone: Apollo. God of Light, Music, and Healing.
And the brother and utter converse of Dionysus.
Was this a test?
Considering the hand of such a diametrically opposed figure in her life led her to further mental torment and turmoil. Was it betraying everything she had lived for until this point by seeking out his guidance? Would there be repercussions?
All of these questions and more plagued her as her feet seemed to face resistance upon approaching the entrance to the Temple of Apollo, with her own, handcrafted bundle of incense containing barley, bay leaf, mugwort, and drenched in frankincense. The only sign of her anxiety as she crossed through the threshold was noted in the way she seemed to pinch and fidget with a stray stem of barley between her forefinger and thumb.
Swallowing hard, she adjusted the himation that draped from the crown of her head to her shoulders, wrapping around her like a shroud, as if to shield her from the eyes of those watching. Greeting one of the priests of the god, she questioned softly the appropriate manners expected within these walls.
All gods had their particulars. She imagined that Apollo was no different.
Light from large hanging oil chandeliers, candles, and intricately designed oil lamps flooded the room with enough light to make it appear as if she was standing in the sun. Of course, for the God of Light, that was to be expected.
Stepping to an empty alcove that was already blessed with offerings great and small, Thea nodded to the priest and then glanced around to either side of her before kneeling in front of the altar. The heat from the blazing pool of fire at the center of the offering bowl tempted a light sweat along her neck and where her peplos touched her skin, but she persisted.
Holding the the offering bundle to the flame, she watched as the plants and herbs were alight and curled in golden smolders before she placed the remainder of the bundle in the offering bowl. The pungent and herbal smoke filled the air and seemed to draw a silvery haze around the golden figure of the god before her. Inhaling deeply, she urged the fumes that entered her lungs to urge her words to come forward.
As they did, her voice was low and quiet, yet reverent as her eyes seemed to fix on the golden figure before her.
"Blessed Apollo, God of Light, Muse, and Healing. For the light in the sky that warms us and the joy of music to our ears...and the blessings of the earth that heal our bodies, we thank you," she began, echoing the gratitudes she offered reverently to Dionysus, but in a more particular fashion. Pausing a moment, her tongue pressed to the roof of her mouth, glancing down at the burning incense a moment before finally settling on what to say.
"You have brought me here," Thea said, plainly, as a partial statement and polite accusation, "And it has left me more confused than I thought possible." Her eyes shifted slightly to either side to assure that her words would not be overheard. Perhaps, this was not the tone to take with one of Zeus' sons, and yet she the frustrations deep within her soul in this battle between wine-stained dark and burning bright light seemed to drive her to the point of bluntness. Still, she took a breath before continuing, lest she let her frustrations bubble forth in a way that would threaten this. Her tones hushed again, as she mused and prayed.
"Your brother's call to me seemed undeniable, and yet...I sense your guidance of my hands in the art of medicine and healing. I have felt it before, in caring for my sister as she bore...and hopes to bear child. I have felt it in my attempts to care for my father and his afflictions. I have felt it in this...this unstoppable urge to write all that I know of the healing, though it is kept secret lest I be accused of knowing too much."
Her usual placid expression seemed to crumple slightly at the edges of her eyes, her brow furrowing in an unfamiliar manner that would cause wrinkles if she did it too often. It was the depth of feeling and questioning that burned at her, twisting something deep inside with uncertainty as she finally spoke again.
"I came here to ask....why."
Immediately, she shook her head as if to undo her question, before pausing once again.
"I can be no one else and yet I wonder why..."
Another pause as she swallowed, noting that the incense she brought had burned down nearly to ash, with slight glowing smolders at the edges. Was he still there, listening to her? Or...was this all in vain? Perhaps...she took the wrong approach, almost too abrasive in soul despite the dulcet tone of her voice. What if...she was mistaken in this altogether...
Was this asking too much? Or....was she asking the wrong thing?
She lowered her eyes a moment, thinking silently. For so long now she had felt this questioning and considered this a possibility, yet the fact that the two brother-gods were so dichotomic in nature seemed to frighten her. It was known that the gods could play with the beliefs of mortals, toying with their hearts and minds, sometimes into madness. It was her determination not to go mad that almost seemed to push her to the brink. She wanted answers, but...perhaps she had not earned them yet.
This was a risk, much like befriending two members of rival houses. And yet, had she not already done so in some sense, by being one of the few Thanasi not entirely loathed by the Kotas?
More confusion seemed to wash over her, enough to almost make her want to stand and storm from the temple in an uncharacteristic bout of temper. Yet, still, she knelt. It was a risk and a consideration that Dionysus may feel betrayed by her diversion away from his worship - all gods were jealous creatures that collected their followers like pawns. Still, if the God of Healing wanted to guide her hand - who could that help?
It could help Evras as she bore another child in her womb after a decade of loss and misfortune. It could help her father, as his mind seemed to slip away with each passing sunset, inflicting accidental pain on himself and others. It could help so many, should her findings lay written in a codex that could be used to improve the lives of others.
Nethis' voice seemed to creep into the back of her mind for a moment - since when did she care?
Another voice, Thea's own but slightly less familiar, seemed to tone back - since when had she not cared?
It was that second voice that seemed to bolster something within her, seeming to press her knees harder into the stone before her and causing her to look up at the golden figure again, who seemed a slight touch more radiant than before. Thea blinked uncertainly for a moment more as she took a deep inhale before fixing the golden god's face with her sharp, blue stare.
"If it is your will...teach me," she asked, more cautiously choosing her words and yet finding them more freely than before, she added, "My hands are yours. To serve, to heal, and to learn."
With that, the final embers of her offering turned to ash, leading her to stand. Somehow the floor beneath her felt as if it were made of surer stone than before. Adjusting her chiton and himation, she gave one last glance at the statue before her, bowing her head in a reverence that seemed odd yet fitting for her before she turned on her heels to the entrance of the temple.