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

59 | Athena's Past III - Prometheus

Long, weightless blond hair adorned her head. It was her natural helmet against the sun, and it rolled down from her shoulders to her hips like an army of Hippeis—the cavalry of Metis. The knights all faded into her ashen skin, blending into her like her mother's warrior blood ran into her veins.

This was the towering Athena. The female in the high of a pacifist Oceanid was taller than the average Mycenaean female, a height only matched by her uncle Hades and Poseidon—the most obvious characteristic of a naturally born skilled fighter from their divine race.

The flat-chested goddess still possessed slenderness, though, with the small shoulders of Aphrodite and the endless legs of an imagined mermaid's fish tails. A feminine figure that she dissimulated under long togas and heavy golden armour. Across her eyes, she scratched a thick black kohl line, obscuring her ocean blue eyes and covering what they had taught her to consider a flaw.

Yet Athena couldn't forget her mother, Metis, because she was fashioned in the image of a woman. She wasn't born alone from her father, Zeus, and like Hestia, Hades, Demeter, Poseidon, and Hera, they weren't only born from Cronus, either. A reminder she had to learn to bury deep within her heart in the garden of treasured memories, but a lie she was compelled to act on in front of her father, Zeus.

Zeus addressed to his unclothed standing daughter, saying, "Prometheus had said that if you were to be a boy, you would overthrow me without hesitation. I couldn't accept it until Gaia confirmed his claims." A gasp left his mouth in surprise. "You, the daughter of the great Titanide Metis, goddess of Wise Counsel, Prudence, and Wisdom, carrying the same title as your mother. No one can outsmart her, not even Hades. She was beautiful, smart, and one of the best tacticians I've ever known. I always knew you were aware of her fate, but Hestia convinced me that if I loved you, you would never exact revenge on me. You never did; you never disappointed me; and you never ceased to impress me."

In his words, Athena's eyes wandered into her image in the mirror. Then she gulped down her saliva—this was also a lie.

***

Since dawn, an excruciating pain had plagued the King of all the gods; his head was just killing him. His endless screams of torment woke up everybody on Mount Olympus. Zeus allowed no one to be at his bedside, not even his wife Hera; he only demanded the most instructed among them, the God of Forethought, Prometheus. To the side of their leader, the Titan walked while whistling a tune. Slow steps accompanied the dragging sounds of his biggest axe, sharp and ready as they ordered it to be.

Was it the King of all the gods' last breath?
He looked pale, consumed by an unknown illness.
God suffered from no diseases, so what did Zeus have?

Zeus urged Prometheus to crack his skull wide open; the suffering was more than he could bear. He sat at the edge of his bed, his head bowing down to Prometheus. The god shook his head. Then, planting his foot next to Zeus, he raised his axe to the ceiling before hitting it down.

Zeus let out a sigh of relief before directing Prometheus to continue. Three blows to the Ruler of the Sky's head caused his skull to break apart, exposing some of his brain. From this new gash, a being covered in his blood emerged.

A nameless one wrapped in one of the most dreadful armours, with devilish blue eyes staring back at the two intrigued deities who had just delivered her into this world. Athena removed her mask, revealing to them a face that didn't leave Zeus nor Prometheus unmoved, as it was the most similar to the late Metis.

Athena's mother knew the reason for her cruel sentence: she died because Prometheus had predicted to Zeus that her future son would overthrow him. However, if the cursed child she was carrying was a girl, her father wouldn't perceive her as a threat and would instead embrace her.