The Priestess was beautiful, adorned from head to foot in long golden robes embroidered with map designs, her head adorned with a crown made to resemble the sun. She carried a balance scale and a scroll.

“Apollo will hear your requests! Send forth your requestors!” The men moved forward and got on their knees before her at the cremographion. She looked at each one in turn, listening to each request. My father was in the middle. “We have discovered marble on our farm, and would like to mine it for Apollo, but do not want to anger Persephone who has blessed us with descendants. Please tell us what we must do.”

“Apollo has heard your requests!” She declared when the last man had spoken. Then she turned and walked back down the steps into the inner temple. The large doors swung shut with a boom and the lock clicked back into place.

I looked at my Father as he came to me through the crowd. His brow was still furrowed with worry, but he looked contented that he made his request.