Chapter 1: The Wine God

With all the religion and beliefs coming differently from various countries and sectors, the question began to develop. Is there a God? Are gods real?

 People are torn between those who believe that their existence is real, and those who have little to no faith in the mythologies they deem as fairytale-like stories. 

The truth is, they are very much alive. Specifically speaking, the Greek gods are. 

In every single moment, the deities of Greece are there, overlooking at every step of the way to do their own purposes. Hermes graces delivery riders, mailmen, and shipping companies all over the places they have power on. Aphrodite blesses everyone with love with the help of Cupid. Of course, Poseidon guarantees a bountiful catch to lucky humans who pass his way and so on.

All of them are watching, and they are there. 

Always.

As the world grows and develops, they are there to evolve as well. And in the modern world where almost everything is possible? The gods living in the human realm won't be a surprise anymore. 

At least, some of them do.

—

Dionysus, also known as the God of Wine, has resided in the mortal world for a century now. One look at him and the idea of a white man with fair skin, blue eyes, and blonde hair will immediately deteriorate. 

The former semi-deus, who was soon turned into a full deity, was orphaned of a mother before he was born. The rumors of an unknowable curse hung around his head without even breathing into the outside world. No one has clear information about it but Hera, his father's queen.

Beads of perspiration tricked down his chin and dropped to the floor of the gym, his biceps bulged as he lifts dumbbells in both hands. The black sando that clung to his bulky figure was drenched in sweat, and his grunts, filled with effort, echoed in the room. 

–

Perhaps, all the mishaps he got were because of this curse or, maybe, he was born unlucky - for his mother was said to have tried to get rid of him, but was never successful. After having Zeus promise to Styx to get whatever desires, and she wished to see her lover in his godly form - which was highly fatal for the human eyes - that burned her to the ground, leaving the four month old Dionysus floating in mid-air; alive, because of the ichor in his body. It was his affiliation as the son of the Sky god that spared him.

–

The god matched his sando with a pair of shorts that emphasized his thick thighs. He's a tanned, buff, towering figure, that erases the notion that Dionysus is what he looks like in search images other than his raven-black hair. On top of that, his dragon-shaped eyes and dimples were too out of the box for even Renaissance artists - even modern ones - to think about. 

– 

The attempt was paid with her life, or so as the rumors say that, the wine god punished her for trying to remove his existence. He was salvaged by his father, strapping him inside the flesh of his thigh until he was of the right month to escape as a tiny baby with chocolate brown eyes and deep dimples, his laugh echoing upon the four walls of the throne room. The flames on both sides of the room became brighter, and brighter, and brighter, only stopping after his laughter had receded.

Only Hephaestus, the young, misshapen fire god, has peeked in secret to welcome him home.

–

He is the only figure in the room, as he had planned. Installing a private gym at home has always been his choice.  The pungent smell of fermented grapes hung heavily in the air. Silenus, his friend and familiar, calls it the 'Dionysus Effect', since he seemed to emit more of the scent when focusing too hard or churning with a lot of emotions. 

The god of wine musters his force to finish the last few lifts in his exercise session when the swing of the oak door catches his attention. From the echoes that resonate outside the four walls of the room, he can hear the centaurs practicing their archery with the maenads - the female worshippers of the wine god. The idea of the two beings having a shooting contest together is what comes to his mind. 

His thoughts were interrupted as a familiar voice rang from behind, making him turn just in time to see his trusted friend, the God of Drunkenness, on his way towards him. "Sire, my apologies for interrupting you. An owl has sent this from Olympus." 

Silenus, in his white suit and black slacks, smiled at him as he drew near. He had piercing blue eyes and blonde hair — a reason which he is mistaken for the wine god himself, at times. 

This led Dionysus into an idea, actually. An idea that has been ongoing until now.

The idea— where Dionysus is buried in his past, and his present persona as Kim Yeojoon begins. A man who's secretly behind the Victoire Wine Company, where Silenus - or Damon Victoire, in the human realm - is the standing CEO. 

Staring at his friend's heart shaped smile, medium-sized build, and formal suit, it made him remember the first time the wine god met the god of drunkenness.

FLASHBACK | Joseon Era

(now known as South Korea)

Specks of dust grazes his skin but he paid no heed to it, knitting his brows into a crease as he squints at the area far below. Fat, grey clouds shifted into their darker form and lightning flashed all around him, making his stallion buck and neigh nervously mid-air. His hand gripped onto the reins of his faithful and skilled pegasus, pushing it to fly down, with haste, into the human realm with it's glorious, blurry spots of red and orange lights that glowed against the darkness of the evening.

As he glides down into an open space in the middle of the thick forest, he finally was able to get a deep intake of air, just realizing that he was holding his breath moments before.

Drenched, the wine god stares at his chiton that covers half his chest, a golden belt wraps around his waist, and the rest of the cloth is sticking down to his knees. He shivers in the cold, being out into the open for the first time made his heart beat faster. The memory of what he heard earlier leaves a fresh wound in him.

Where do I go now?

He's lost, betrayed, and confused. Empty. The lightning that continuously lashed down the earth, as if the heavens was punishing the human realm, did not bother him at all.

His face mirrors the darkness of the sky, only he knows if his eyes reflected the pouring rain, devoid of color and full of pain.

The steed follows him as he trudged forward into the lush forest, hoping to find shelter under the thick leaves and big roots of a tree. Surely, Olympus would be waking up to a huge uproar by tomorrow. Temporary shelter will only endanger his cover, he needs a roof over him. With his eyes looking far ahead, he decided to find a proper shelter. The horse neighs weakly. Dionysus patted the creature's loyal head, looking down at the tall grass.

"I shall feed you once we reach a safer place, Marius. Be patient."

Upon hearing his master's statement, the winged steed seemed to understand as it was suddenly silenced, looking straight in one direction and came to a full halt. Dionysus, who was looking down at where he steps, careful and calculating so he won't accidentally slip, then tugged at the reins. He frowns upon realizing his pegasus is unresponsive, until he looks up.

A small hut glows an orange hue in the near distance, one that he swore he had never seen earlier. The steed immediately runs towards it, forcing the young god to let go of his reins. Upon reaching the comfortable warmth of the hut's outer layer, the horse snorts and bucks his two legs forward, as if beckoning him closer. He has learned to trust animal instincts, that's one of his first lessons with Chiron, the centaur, as a godling.

At first, he was hesitant to knock. Finally, after a few minutes of pondering on that idea, he raised his fist and attempted to knock — that is the time when the door opened, shining bright, blinding Dionysus momentarily that he shielded his eyes with arms. When his orbs adjusted to the light, he sees a teen - around his age - bowing at 90 degrees;  a mop of blonde hair, a plain chiton and wooden sandals is what first came into his mind.

"Sire, I came as soon as I've felt your presence. I am Silenus, your faithful servant, my liege," was his greeting, surprising Dionysus, as he stood upright, revealing his blue orbs that reminded the god of the ocean, matching his heart-shaped smile.

At last, beyond familial blood, Dionysus found new shelter and someone to trust in the same night that he lost both.

—

Moving forward to the first weeks in the human realm, Dionysus bid Marius his freedom. 

"You freed me from my chains, it is time I do the same for you. Fly high, Marius." 

The noble stallion may now run free, just like him who has found new joy without the shackles that bound him to Olympus. The wine god learned to grow grapevines on the ground, along with the generous rain that passes by every now and then, that is where the business rose into full bloom; from the god itself and his noble helper. Maenads, centaurs, nymphs, and seilenoi or wind spirits began to show help, hiding the god's existence as they bowed at his feet.

Now, in the 2000s, highrise buildings, upgraded vehicles, and machineries proved itself to be an advantage for Dionysus and his independence. With a company all to himself and Silenus tagging along, nothing stood in his way; no rival, no competitor, only allies. Dionysus, aged 27 for eternity, is now the man behind Victoire Wine Company. 

Completely faking his entire identity, he settles with the name, Kim Yeojoon. The god has made himself settle under the cloud of korean ancestry and tradition, away from the greeks, masking his entire existence to the world since he came down from Olympus. His companion, whom he has placed as the high ranking official of the company, is now Damon Victoire, the proxy CEO. 

Almost a hundred years of staying in the human realm has turned him docile and collecting. A huge contrast to his merry days of pure unadulterated joy in messing with anyone going his way.

With Damon holding the company together, the god focused on writing. The thoughts that flowed in his head, even the ones that bother him so, becomes held in the vessel called 'paper', now 'computer', as he types his ideas away with ease. As the psychologists would say, it is a venting place for him to be at ease, comfortable, and at peace with himself. 

On other days, when writing seemed like a chore, he had installed a private gym in the wide scope of his chateau. A far cry from the wooden hut that he used to live with ages ago.

 

High walls masked the inside of the premises. A huge garden looms under him whenever he watches over the terrace, by the second floor on the left wing, where his room is located. A single fountain - decorated by the statue of Pan playing his flute (the water goes out of the other end of the instrument) flows endlessly by it's edge, surrounded by man— a satyr-made lake that's teeming with fish. Satyrs, wind spirits, naiads, and maenads interact in the wide area; all of them are his followers who kept the peace in the area. 

A black panther emerged from the lake, a gold collair inlaid with the name NICHOLAS flashes against the morning sun. The big cat was a gift to him from Hephaestus, upon receiving his letter, with the promise that no one else knows his whereabouts.

Just as he thought everything was perfect, that's when the first letter with the eagle seal was delivered from the claws of an owl with golden plumes. 

The very first invitation that wants him to return to Olympus with haste. 

It has been like this now, for the last decade.