" In strange ways hard to know gods come to men

Many a thing past hope they have fulfilled,

And what was looked for went another way.

A path we never thought to tread gods found for us.

So this has come to pass."

-Euripides

-Ariadne-

I stood on that shore for a time.

The sky began it's subtle decent in to night, and I watched the last of the ships sails wink out of vision. I could not believe it.

I had been left.

The world gave a sickening lurch as I fell to my knees.

An anguished wail ripped from her heart, now bereft. She had sacrificed everything for him, for Theseus. How long has it been? She counted, "Three days, and as many nights." It seemed a lifetime since that first meeting. He looked so proud walking amongst the sacrifices. His head held high and his eyes defiant. I loved him.

She sighed at the memory before her fury returned. "I rescued him!" She cried, " I was the one that begged Daedalus the secret of his labyrinth!"

" And it was I that freed Theseus from the dungeon! I gave him my last spool of golden thread, just so he could escape!" Anger shook her slight form until finally tears leaked down her cheeks. "Tears?" she scoffed, "Why would I shed them for him?"

She hastily wiped them from her cheeks, smearing the dirt on her hands to her face, but no matter how she wiped they continued to fall. "Ahh! Curses!" She wept openly now for her heartache, for her predicament, for what she thought might be love. What god have I angered to be mistreated so?!

She clenched her fists in the gravelly sand, feeling the bite of pain in her soft princess' palm. Alone. Abandoned. A harsh wind off the water stung her eyes and burned her throat as more tears made tracks down her cheeks. This time she did not swipe them away, for what was the point? Who could see her here in this empty place? Another part of her mind chided her. Come now, girl. Admit it. You wish someone could see you like this. You wish he could see you like this. You want him to feel guilty. But all the wishing and wanting in the world wouldn't make it so.

"THESEUS!" She screamed impotently into the wind and waves. Her knees were beginning to ache, and, as if this too were Theseus' fault, she suddenly became furious. She flung the gravel clenched in her fists at the retreating waves, hearing only a light patter as they made contact. Shrieking in outrage she finds the largest rock she can safely pick up and hurls it into the ocean, five feet into the ocean.

Disgusted with herself, she leaves the shore to see what shelter she can make for the night. Entering the forest seems a daunting task as some of the last rays of light make it seem dark and ominous. Terror seems to fill her at the prospect of what might be living in there. "No. I won't think on't" After all, its not as if I have a choice.

"Stupid girl," she whispers, "why weren't you on that boat?"

Because I was tired of it, that's why! Tired of being sick and tired of the ocean! And so tired of all those horrid sailors! She shivered at the memory. I begged for shore leave. And when I wasn't given it because father's ships were sure to catch us up, I sneaked off. She grimaced at the truth in the words.

Stupid girl. You knew you shouldn't and yet you did, for what? Pretty shells? A fresh drink of water? She sighed miserably. "But he should have known where I was! He knew I was on shore! I left a note! Oh! And why would he trouble himself with a little sneak, eh? This way, if he gets caught, he can truthfully say that he doesn't have me. "The little worm. May he never see his father again!" She cursed him.

Branches and thorns slice at her legs, and arms, and face as she clumsily move through the forest. Breaking branches as she forges her way, she suddenly feels a sharp pain. "AH!" she cries out as she feels her hair catch on, … something. Its too dark!

She panics as she realizes that she'll never be able to free herself in the dark. I don't even have a knife! Suddenly the past day's events are all just too much as she begins to cry in earnest. Loudly and unabashedly she struggles in the dark whilst hopelessness steals over her. Panting she tugs and tugs, thrashing and shrieking and generally making the situation worse.

-The god Bacchus-

Sweeping through the forest, the god Bacchus and his merrymakers, his savages, danced and sang terrifyingly. Dressed in a purple cloak he made his way with ease through the forest, the trees bending out of his way and the dryads and nymphs joining in his revelry.

They came upon a buck in his prime, and as he bolted the group caught him up. Mercifully, Bacchus drew a dagger and slit the poor creatures throat. He turned to his followers and said, "Feast."

Screeching wildly, the group of beastly women fell upon the prone form and devoured its flesh. Each were wearing a skin of faun and waving ivy wands as they jostled for a drink of warm blood. Bacchus, his dark eyes filled with delight watched as they tore the buck to pieces. The suffering god, was he. Damned to suffer every Autumn as his vine is cut back. His deaths were terrible, and so he enjoyed the vicious dismemberment of the hapless buck.

The Maenads, his followers, were mad with blood and flushed with drink. All stopped suddenly as a wail of misery cut the night. Every eye gleamed with delight.

The Maenads giggled wildly and looked to their master for direction. "Perhaps it is another offering?" they hissed in delight. Bacchus was interested. There shouldn't have been any humans on this side of the island. He knew because he had seen the boats leave a few hours before.

"What mischief is this?" he wondered idly.