The One and Only Ch. 1

Morning came, and he cursed himself as he tried to find his boots. It had become a habit of his to place them by the fire before he fell asleep so they wouldn't be cold in the morning. Of course he ran the risk of catching them on fire, but it was still something terribly pleasant that he longed for on the cool autumn morning. Pulling on his boots, he scratched his short black beard as he made his way over to the fire, a spit set above it.

He noted that the coals from the night before were warm to the touch. Sitting down with his legs crossed, he gently stirred with some sticks he had collected the previous afternoon. He found his mood lighten slightly as he was soon able to coax forth a flame. The birds seemed to react to the new color, their calls echoing in the cool air.

Standing up, he made his way over to the creek with a kettle and filled it with water, setting it next to the fire upon his return. After a little more care and a few more twigs, the fire was proper enough to support his breakfast. Securing the kettle upon the spit above the flame, he made his way over to a tree, a length of rope secured to the base of the trunk. Unfastening it, he slowly lowered the attached bag to the ground, retrieving three pieces of smoked meat. Then he gathered a pan and set about making himself breakfast.

He tried to remember what it was that had left him so distracted, but found his mind still slightly limp from the drink the night before. Eventually the meat began to sizzle in the pan as the water above began to boil. Retrieving some powder from a pouch on his belt, he placed it in the cup and poured the hot water over on top of it. As the water sat and brewed, he began to eat the meat slowly as through the headache the memories of the night before came to him.

Last night there had been a woman.

It had been a long time since he had seen anyone, yet still this one was striking to him. She had deep red hair that seemed to tumble like the hair of a medusa, her blue eyes barely perceptible within the confines as she ran screaming into the camp. He looked up, admiring her form, though he was otherwise disinterested.

“Please,” she said in between gasps. “Please help me.”

“You really don't want me to do that,” he said.

She looked at him, puzzled, as out of the woods a young man came forth. He was not as striking as the woman, but it was clear that his eyes were the thing he used to control others. They were a deep green and were alight with rage as he looked over at her.

“So this is how it is going to be huh? I take us out, spend my money on this crap and you are just going to go all frigid on me.”

The girl looked back and forth nervously, seemingly having trouble keeping herself in the present. “I didn't mean to shove you. You just came at me too fast. I got startled.”

The man looked over at the stocky, slightly aged man drinking wine around the fire.

“What the fuck are you looking at?”

Dionysus tilted the bottle towards the man, a smile breaking across his lips.

The man seemed as confused as the girl had been, but then turned his attention back to the woman. The woman flinched as he moved towards her, gripping her wrist as he turned to pull her away.

“Please,” she said silently to the man around the fire.

“You really don't want me to do that," he responded.

“Don't want you to do what,” the man asked as he turned to face the fire. “You want to start something? Because I'll make you wish you hadn't.”

Dionysus smiled again as he took a long draw from the bottle. He grunted as he stood up, his legs temporarily forgetting their function. The boyfriend looked at the girl and chuckled.

“Charlie, please don't,” she begged him, holding fast to his arm. Her grip failed as he quickly pulled away from her, his eyes focused on the scruffy faced man swaying in place. The camp was like a ring, the woods only illuminated to the extent at which the fire wished it to be. Charlie wasted no time as he ran at him, leaping over the fire towards him. The man stepped to the side as Charlie tripped over the stones that ringed the fire, his face planting squarely in the dirt. Dionysus simply stood there as Charlie collected himself and stood back up.

He was furious now, embarrassment stacking on top of his anger as he went to take a swing at him. Only as he went to pull his fist back he suddenly let his arm fall limp at his side as Dionysus took another long drink.

After he had finished swallowing, he extended his arm with the bottle. Charlie got a glazed look in his eyes as he quickly grabbed the bottle and began to drink.

And he kept drinking.

In fact, he only stopped when he ran out of breath. Then he began drinking again, giggling to himself as he greedily attacked the bottle. Dionysus paid him no more heed as he went into his tent and retrieved another bottle. He quickly twisted it open and took another drink as he walked over to the girl, her eyes focused on Charlie who had just vomited.

“Care for a sip?” he asked.

She shook her head, her gaze never leaving the spectacle in front of her.

“What did you do?”

“I helped,” he said.

“But what did you do?”

He sighed, closing one eye as he worked on his explanation. ”About two thousand years ago I began to grow frustrated. Whenever I found a wine I liked I could only enjoy the stock at hand. Once drank, it was gone forever. So I had my friend Hephi make me a bottle which never went empty. Whatever you placed in there would run forever until you no longer desired it. And that,” he said, pointing to the bottle, is a very good year. As a consequence he won't stop drinking until he has thoroughly pickled himself.”

She finally turned and looked at him, her confusion only deepening. “Who the hell are you?”

“My dear lady," he said with smile, “I very much doubt you'll remember.”

And she didn't.

He had walked her back to her car in silence, promising that he would take care of Charlie. When he returned, he found the man crumpled on the ground, snoring loudly into his own puddle. He retrieved the bottle, and then set about making the tent and all within it into a carefully organized roll. Once finished, he gave one last look at the man on the ground who's fate he couldn't have given less of a shit about. Then he headed off into the woods in a hurry. It would take some time, but if he moved quickly he would have enough. Setting up another fire would a while, but that was okay.

The nice thing about being a God is you could always make time for drinking.