Paradise Lot: Interludes (Dionysus's Story)

Prologue

The night before the gods left, Dionysus threw the greatest party the divine world had ever known. Sparing no expense, the god of wine, ecstasy, ritual madness and theatrical pursuits tapped into the then-unlimited well of magic and burned tens of thousands of years, ensuring that every drink, light, cushion, chair, party-streamer and cocktail-wiener was perfect. No detail was too small for his attention. And why not? After all, the world everyone knew was ending.

"Let us party like there is no tomorrow ... for there truly is no tomorrow!" he cried out, raising a glass of ambrosia poured from a bottle he saved for a very special occasion. And what could be a more special than all the gods leaving? He drank heavily from its rim. He smacked his lips as he examined the iridescent, green bottle with great pride. It was delicious. No—delicious was too meager a word to describe the fluid that passed through his lips. It was exquisite, enchanting, divine. And far stronger than anything he had ever distilled before. As it should be—this ambrosia was corked at the dawn of time.

Looking down at his party, he watched as his brothers and sisters danced, sang, made love—each of them enjoying their last moments on Olympus. Truly, this is my greatest achievement to date, he mused. And what an achievement it was ... he was, after all, responsible for some of the classics—Pompeii's Inauguration, the Sinking of Atlantis, Y2K ... and who could forget Sodom and Gomorrah?

Dionysus did not know what tomorrow held. All he did know was that after tomorrow, he would no longer live on Mount Olympus. He would live with the gods somewhere new.

"For a tomorrow that never will be," he cried out drinking deeply again—this time straight from the bottle.

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But tomorrow did come. At least it did for Dionysus. Waking up in the stirred remnants of his perfect party—a party in which he passed out far too early—he looked around and saw that everyone was gone. The gods had left. And what was worse, they had left him behind. At least his bottle of special ambrosia was only half drunk.

Then it started: "Thank you for believing in us, but it is not enough. We're leaving. Good Luck." Damn Hermes—always so economical with his words. An event like this deserved flair, pizzazz. Joy. Something like—

Dionysus did not have time to mull over the message he would have delivered—not with all the shaking. Olympus trembled. Or was it his head? Dionysus was not sure.

Staggering to his feet, he tried to remember where they went and if there was a chance for him to catch up. He tried to burn time and connect with them, but there was no connection, no way to reach them. They had already left.

"Damn it!" he cursed aloud. If only Dionysus had listened to Zeus when he explained where they were going, he could have followed. But instead, Dionysus was drunk and let's be honest ... when that old static fart started talking, he could just go on and on and on. Blah, blah, blah—GrandExodus this, new beginning, that. Who could sit through that drivel? Certainly not Dionysus and that was why he'd planned to latch onto Athena and follow that diligent little godly pet into the 'Place Beyond'.

But you have to be awake to latch on, and his sister was probably so busy preparing how she was going to kiss the Lightning Bearer's ass in a new setting that she forgot all about him. Or he forgot to tell her...

He honestly couldn't remember.

The halls of Olympus started to crumble.

They'll be back, he thought.

The pillars that once held up the Great Hall cracked.

I'm the life of the party.

The darkness from beyond was approaching, consuming Olympus in a tidal wave of nothingness.