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

67 | Athena's Past XI - Callisto (Part 2) 🏳️‍🌈

    It was between the hidden memory of Pallas and the true story of Hephaestus that her genuine love for Artemis shone the most.

It was with a grin that couldn't be contained and wide eyes filled with love that Athena shed a tear. Her knees turned weak, and the life drained itself out of her when she asked the young Persephone, "Did I ever tell you the story of Artemis' secret husband?" She sniffed in sadness at this tale, holding on to the truth behind the lie.

***

The scene was anodyne. After all, it was just one son charged with robbery by another, and now his twin was stepping into the throne chamber. She barged in to answer for her own cold-blooded actions.

The young Hermes, sitting on the lap of his newly found father, watched the whole affair with enthusiasm. He never saw anything more interesting than this from his mother's cave, but for the old Athena, this was just the usual every-day tasks that she had to assist Zeus with.

Plans were already dividing in her head to get what her father required from this child of his. Athena had heard a vague summary of Artemis' crimes—a half sister whose name she had duly written on Prometheus' board but whose face was still unknown to her.

Athena had neither the time nor the imagination to guess what this younger female deity could have looked like. To her, she was just another competitor on a long list of who could inherit something from Zeus, thus reducing her own share of power.

How she could have been so wrong.

Artemis, with the pale complexion of the earliest sunrise in the sky, came in walking on her toes. Artemis of the dead autumn leaves hair, the one with the delicate, swollen, rounded breasts that bounced at each of her steps, put rhythm into Athena's heartbeat. Artemis, the goddess with her slightly pink-hemmed lips, froze right before her.

Where others were rebuffed by her lack of manners, Athena was completely charmed by the rebellious attitude of this goddess with her ferocious face—the sight of a hungry tiger matched with the strong frame of a small feline.

Athena was weaponless against such attraction; such cruel beauty silenced her wisdom. She could weave fantasy while the world around her was slowly muffled down to suffocation in front of Artemis, leaving Hermes to seize the opportunity to impress Zeus instead. After her departure, Athena was still blushing at their brief meeting.

With a chuckle, Zeus said to her, "Go and get her!" The latter stared back at her father with wide-open eyes. "I meant now that I had Hermes to find Callisto's son for me, I don't need Artemis anymore. Just tell her I forgive her everything, would you?"

His words couldn't be more clear. If she was distracted again from her duty, Hermes would replace her, and she would become Zeus' messenger instead. Athena bowed to her father, then immediately left to find the Goddess of Hunt.

The temple of the twins, Artemis and Apollo, was the poorest on Mount Olympus. There were no gardens at the feet of its steps, no fountains surrounding it, nor any ornaments. It was an unguarded entablature statue, resting over a double alignment of tall and basic columns—the Mortals inspired ionic order of flutes, then fillets supported by a hat of volutes and an abacus. While the pediment was blank, the moulding just contained a sculpted repetitive motive of deer, bear, guinea fowl, and a set of girls and boys with joined hands.

Athena, in fear of disappointing Zeus, immediately stepped into the abode without paying any attention to its hollowness. When she thought to cross it, she found herself thrown out to the feet of Mount Olympus in the Mortal Lands of Gaia.