Hell Is An Empty Heart (Book One of The Triple Moon's Chronicles)

56 | The Ether Blinded Their Eyes 🏳️‍🌈

The deluge of rain cleansing the wrath of Demeter on the mortal world was a monsoon from three eyes. While one was her own and the other was the angst from her daughter's coming of age, another was the shattering outburst of Athena.

The eldest of all the second generation of Olympians wasn't allowed to show any emotions; standing among the males, she had learned how to bind her breasts and heart under a thick layer of golden armour. An unescapable cage for her feelings made in one of the hardest metals, a material only equal to the strength of their beliefs in the pesticide of their souls.

However, away from anyone and concealed in her garden of spears and shields, the defenceless goddess cried her eyes out. She mourned the irreplaceable absence of her only confident Medusa; she wept for the allusion of her mother blended into the image of the now bravest Mother of all, the Goddess of Harvest.

Athena did not weep in fury. They were the repressed expression of her fear; like the young Hermes, she also suffered from a lack of motherly affection.

"What a coward!" said Artemis. She was resting her back on a tree trunk that separated her from Athena. Constantly looking the other way, she made sure no one was looking at them. An ugly twist armed her mouth when she said, "He can't act better in his damn life, so he had to take it out on a woman. Luckily, father didn't know of it."

Athena sighed, then shook her head in defeat; she knew too well the way of Zeus. In between two panting sounds, she murmured, "Father could have done nothing to save Medusa," her voice waning and becoming monotonous.

Artemis slammed the tree with one of her tight fists as the words enraged her. Athena flinched in panic before the latter interjected, "Of course he would have!"

"What could another man do to restore the virginity of a woman?" said Athena. "The greatest of all punishments on him would change nothing about her trauma; only a moral lesson learned could have made the difference."

Artemis chuckled. "Men learning!"

"Unlike you, I don't despise men, and I believe anyone can change for the better."

Fingers crawling over the hand of Athena, Artemis turned around and whispered, "Alright then, is there anything I can do now to appease you?"

Artemis moved closer, but Athena drew back and shoved her advance away, muttering, "Not here!"

"Then, nowhere!" Artemis coughed. "I missed Lady Demeter's island. Have you spoken to father about it again?"

"No, there is no time for it."

"Is this what I am for you—an ephemeral distraction?" said Artemis. If the pressure didn't have any effect, she changed her weapon to guilt as she emerged out of the tree and walked closer to her prey.

Fearfully scanning her surroundings, Athena moved away from Artemis. "I never said that."

With just her free fingers to play with one strand of her lover's hair, Artemis trapped Athena against a tree while pushing her whole body against hers. Looking straight into Athena's sparkling eyes, she challenged, "So kiss me right now." Athena slid her body down to escape the call of lust. Patience, strategy, and cautiousness were her motor skills, and she wouldn't concede to anyone.

Artemis rolled her eyes and declared, "I don't care who sees us. I don't care who could know about us."

"That's the difference between us; I do."

"You're just a coward too, then!"

On that statement, Artemis disappeared into the blueish fogs of Athena's domain. She could only hear the Goddess of Hunt through her many shooting arrows of fury—the fast and mindless sound of her frustration over their argument. It didn't take long for Athena to run after her.