The Gift of the Lethe

Vines in the Soul

Dionysus has moved closer to her, and his appearance has changed. His face has lost its chubbiness and the color of his eyes has darkened, grown sharper. He's no longer wearing the garish shirt, but something of a more modest, muted color. He appears younger too, more boyish.

In all, while he was somewhat good-looking before, he is downright handsome now. His eyes still make her uncomfortable, but only for a few seconds. After those few, the feeling vanishes entirely, as if he had realized the effect and stopped it. Pallas blinks at him, smiling softly.

"Hi?"

He gives her a charming smile. "Hello, Pallas. It's a pleasure to meet you."

He says it so smoothly that she almost misses the awkwardness of his voice beneath it. He's not used to introducing himself to people, not like this. On equal footing, she supposes. It's not something she can really blame him for, he's a god in a select family that hasn't had to introduce themselves to each other for eons. He's got to be out of practice. She gives him a reassuring smile back.

"You as well."

He shuffles his feet, glancing over at Athena. Pallas knows he's old, far older than she technically is, even if she was born in her first life before he was. But he acts so young now, in privacy, with his family and . . . well, and a stranger. But she thinks he knows of her, so his awkwardness around her is due to a lack of familiarity more so than from him trying to exude authority. Dionysus motions towards her head.

"May I examine you?"

"Are you a healer?"

He shrugs. "Not really. Madness and mania fall within my domain, and PTSD may be close enough to it that I can influence it as well."

Pallas whirls toward Athena. "You told him?!"

Athena is quick to raise her hands, her face pinched in worry and apology. "I'm sorry. I know I didn't really have a right to, and you're free to yell at me later. But I did have a good reason for telling him, and I do think he can help. So please just try with him."

Pallas points a slightly shaking finger at her, glaring, but it only lasts for half a second before she sighs and slumps. "Fine. But we will be talking about this at some point."

Athena gives her a slow nod and moves to sit on the earth. An owl appears out of the trees and alights on her shoulder, chattering into her ear. Pallas can't make out what it says, but whatever it was warrants a response from Athena. Shaking her head, Pallas looks back to Dionysus.

"What do I need to do?"

"First of all, sit."

Dionysus takes a seat first, patting the dirt across from him. Slowly, Pallas sinks into a seat and crosses her legs.

"Now what?"

"Watch my eyes."

At first, Pallas is struck by the oddness of his command, but the moment the flashback inducing power of them returns, she knows exactly why he wants her to do this. If they induce a flashback, he can fully examine its effects on her, and perhaps the causes of it. But she can't think more about it, not when at the exact moment his hands press down on each of her temples, she is swept away in the memories.

She flashes between them, and she is aware enough to realize that there is more than the initial event. There is the fight still, that one is constant. But there is also each instance where she encountered Zeus since then, ending with the lightning bolt striking her stomach. She is pulled out quickly enough, too fast for her to have fully sunk in.

But even so, she finds herself to be shaking wildly. She can see Athena watching in concern out of the corner of her eye, but the goddess doesn't move. Argentum, on the other hand, has crept closer and has his teeth bared at the god in front of Pallas. She waves him away, trying to tell him that she's fine, although her shaking doesn't help persuade him very much.

Still, he backs away a few feet and sits on his haunches, watching carefully. Distraction gone, Dionysus presses harder against Pallas' skull, and the shaking eases as the scraps of memory still pressing into her mind fade away. His eyes are dark in anger as he removes his hands, twisting to look at Athena.

"I'll help you." He turns back to Pallas too fast for her to comprehend what he just told Athena. "He really did a number on you, didn't he?"

She gives him a small nod, not trusting herself to speak. He raises his hands to her temples again, thumbs hovering just over her skin.

"I think I might be able to help with the healing, though you'll have to stick with what you've been doing for it as well."

Pallas' brow furrows. "Why?"

Dionysus sighs. "Let me explain in terms of a physical wound. I can close up the gash, I can stop the bleeding, but the scab left behind still has to heal. What I can do will keep the flashbacks from taking you, and you'll be able to do what you used to do again, even if there will still be hints of discomfort. Of course, you don't have to continue your normal healing, but this will work much better if you do."

"That makes sense, I think. You can try."

He presses his thumbs against her temples, forcing her to close her eyes, and phantom vines weave around her skin, pressing tightly into her flesh. They cut into her, and she can feel the ghost of blood seeping down her skin. As it trickles, she feels lighter and lighter, as if the blood carried a weight within it.

When Dionysus eventually pulls away, both the blood and vines instantly vanish. The lightness is left behind and she gapes at him.

"That- That was interesting."

He laughs. "I suppose it would be. Not a traditional form of healing, is it."

"That it most certainly is not."

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What did you think of the healing process? What about Dionysus' interaction with Pallas? What's going to happen next? Tell me your thoughts!

Happy reading and I'll see you next chapter!

~ Goddess of Fate, signing out