FATE\Deus Decipit

Chapter 92: The Daughters of Triton

...

It was then the girls saw one another, and the stranger's eyes began to well with tears, her breath catching at the sight of her.

"Athena."

'Oh shit.'

Long before she ever had the opportunity to process what had just happened, Chrysaor's hand flew out, grabbed the new girl by the collar and pulled her inside. In one, swift motion the door slammed shut and she was forced against the wall, his elbow pressing on her throat.

Monica began waving her arms erratically, "Hey! Stop that! Get off of her!"

"What? I thought you-"

"Dammit, Chrysaor, let her go!"

He did so immediately, backing up slowly with his hands in the air; eyes locked on his Master for his next command.

She fell off the wall, rubbing her throat and gasping for air on her knees. Monica ran over, kneeling down to pick her up. When the two girls met eyes, the older one's lips trembled as if she were the younger, and embraced the other so tightly that they could feel one another's heartbeats through their breasts.

Chrysaor looked on with a look that said more than words ever could. Confusion, concern, cold logic and hot passion danced across his pale face.

'Monica. Who is she?'

She looked up to him, gripping the girl tighter, 'She's my sister.'

He went alight with surprise, 'Your sister? Why is she here?'

'I have no idea.'

'Who is she? What's her name?'

Gloom settled on her face, 'That's a funny story, actually.'

One eyebrow raised.

'Her name is Monika.'

...

A memory came to her from years ago. So long it had nearly been forgotten.

Two girls played in a forest. The older of the two had just reached her preteens: a foolish age where young girls don the mantle of a training bra, the crown of eyeliner and the scepter of nail polish, all the while believing that she had achieved the throne of womanhood when her journey there had only just begun. As if to show just how vain these plays at maturity were, she was putting her girlishness on full display: crouching over a lone white flower and daintily tapping at it, as if a fish investing a hook cast into her pond.

Behind her was another girl, equally blonde and five years her junior, her skin was coated with dirt and she was climbing a tree with the apparent expertise children so often have. She went no lower than ten feet up, found a branch that extended out, and another which would allow her to brace herself as she carelessly walked out on the limb.

"Monika, Monika! Look, look!"

As soon as the older girl turned around, the younger began to bounce up and down, pushing the limb as far as she could make it go before it flung her back up.

"Look! I'm a monkey! Ooh-ooh-ah-ah!"

"Athena!" The girl, imitating her mother, stood up and crossed her arms, "Get down from there right now! You're gonna hurt yourself!"

"No I'm not! I'm a monkey, remember? Ooh-ooh ah-WAGH!"

Her soft hands slipped from where she was holding on as her feet lifted up and off the branch, sending her falling backwards. The older sister, Monika, saw what has happening and threw herself to the other side of the tree, arms outstretched to catch her, but was not ready for the force and weight. Together they both fell to the ground; dirt and leaves catching in their long, blonde hair that tangled and mixed together on the forest floor.