Athena made a breast-piece of judgement in skilled art. The work that turned gold shields into blue and purple, with scarlet lines, into a worthy scar of knowledge. They squared up and around, spanning in length and breadth. Four steps back to become even closer. The goddess was strong in her will to sharpen the nymph's raw skills into diamonds.
The adamas were, after all, celestial spirits captured into stones—the tears of a god.
They only had a few days to spend together, but Athena excelled in her teaching. The sun would shine that it would still be the night for them, the moon would rise that it was no different for the stars in their stomach had just began their journey.
There were sparks when their skins unavoidably brushed against the other. An inferno ignited by their passion for the mastery and sweat that glowed when their bodies trembled in desire. The desire to fool around in a sport suited only for men.
A strict regime with drastic measures, but Pallas complied with all its rudiments. The more she failed, the more she tried harder. Athena got the upper hand with her strength and endurance. Her shield gave her an edge while Pallas' gladius enable her to thrust and swing her opponent in close range. She kicked Athena with the thick padding worn around her leg, making the both of them to collapse on the ground.
Then there, they were with a defenceless Athena pinned on the ground and Pallas on top of her. Their panting breaths sang in unison and the nymph removed her helm—some truths were better said, more naked than the flesh, stronger than bone and more resilient than sinew.
And the younger Pallas could no longer fight it. Her body fell into the one beneath hers and their lips joined in a burning kiss. The flame loosening their limbs into forbidden strokes; the blaze giving them into temptation, but a coal bittersweet taste grew on Athena's mouth. She struck out the nymph in top of her.
Pallas kept her distance with the bleeding bite of Athena on her lips. She dived into the window of her goddess' soul. There was a storm in her ocean eyes, and a wrath ready to run a rampage in her heart, but something held it all back.
Athena wiped her mouth in disgust and asked, "Pallas, what does this mean?"
"Don't you want it too?" She replied with a fainted smile of insecurity drown into new tears. "Didn't you feel the fire between us?"
"And who taught you such a deed?"
With a shrug, Pallas answered, "I don't know how to say it to you Athena, but I love you." And she cried, pressing her lips together. "I love you since the day I heard about you." Out of confusion, Athena grabbed and brandished a spear right into Pallas' face. Regardless, the nymph crawled closer. She continued, "You could be longed for, married, and even desired, but I know deep down love for you would always be one-sided without me."
Flaring her nostrils, Athena answered, "Then I chose to be alone rather than have my acts dictated."
Pallas sniffed in her sadness as she stood up. "You're so honourable, Athena. Even abstaining from taking pleasure in my only gift to you. Let's hope I will make you prouder than today," she added before leaving like an arrow that had missed its target.
Yet Pallas had never truly left Athena's mind. They had only been apart for a day, that the goddess might well move heaven and earth and leave no stone unturned, for her heart couldn't win that battle — the sad face of a nymph.
She recalled the memories of their many conversations with tenderness. They were their exchanged war tactics to bring peace over the Mortals world. They were their petty arguments over the use of a spear or a sword.
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Hell Is An Empty Heart (Book One of The Triple Moon's Chronicles)
FantasyA goddess is taken to the underworld as the king's bride; her father knew everything and her mother knew nothing. In this retelling of the Hymn of Demeter, mother and daughter will do whatever it takes to free themselves, no matter the cost. Book I...
