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The Last Ballad of Olympus: The Waltz of the Vulture and Owl

Olympus has fallen. The last ballad has been sung and all the gods were dead--but not quite though. Ares and Athena, two deities of completely opposite morals, are forced by their new fate to traverse together an unbeknownst life of mortality--facing adversities of power, pleasure, and a tomorrow of different morning glory.

MissRosas_Pandan · Fantasy
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68 Chs

Beguiling Dread

Silky hands reached out towards the stars. The night was velvet and beautiful. Crickets were chorusing, nightingales were singing, and trees from afar swayed gracefully along with the dancing tides of the wind's daughters. The night was tranquil.

Oh, how melodious Athena's life had become. How sweet and dainty to stare at the smile curving on her lips. The paleness from the scourge vanished, replaced by the rose that bloomed on her cheeks and nose. The daughter of Zeus was divine and chaste. 

She reached her hands higher to the heavens, poking at the stars that began to glide as it morphed into a constellation. 

Dear to her heart—appeared amongst the encircling clouds was the charioteer. Once he stared down at his spectator, the constellation smiled back, warm as the sun's rays and the moon's halo combined.

Erichthonius, great king and kind son—such a moment for fair Athena as her grin never left her face. 

"A warm salutation to you, my son." She greeted. 

"And to you, mama." The noble son answered, 

Mother and child met—fingers collided though her sweet boy was no more but a star spirit who now guided men in their respective travels. 

Though her skin touched nothing but heat and a faint force, the delight of the longing mother was immense, enough for a year's rainy days. 

When the interaction went deeper, Athena started to hum her lullaby she knew her son would remember. The quiet scene became a song, and the night became a sacred stage only she and Erichthonius would understand. 

Both hearts leaped, and pulses skipped a beat. Those dried tears turned into sunny. Painful cuts from the shattered glass were numbed now that dear mother finally saw her child despite knowing that the apparition before her was just a shadow of who the king of Athens once was. 

But she did not dig deep into the thought. A figment, a constellation, or a soul, the being before her was her Erichthonius—and that would never change. He will always be her beloved son. 

The evening was blissful for the two. The stars burned bright despite the reality that the atmosphere was a contrast to the recent circumstances of their homeland. 

Was this all just a dream?

Was this scene just inside her head?

 She realized she was back in her private abode and not a trace of Ares's prison. Was this the consequence of deep yearning? 

But Athena only cared about the present. Erichthonius was here, and that was all that mattered to her. 

After more talks, a ghastly breeze suddenly swept through between them. Athena was left unwary by its swiftness. The hairs on the back of her neck rose, and her spine chilled, sensing that something was not quite right. The thought might seem irrational, but her hunch was telling her something. 

She faced her son, who burned bright like Selene's glow as he held her hand with a welcoming caress. 

"Is there something wrong, Mother?" The constellation asked, smiling at her.

"No," Athena answered—stoically responding though a hint of hesitation noted in her tone. "No—nothing is wrong, darling. The wind just caught me unprepared."

"You feel cold?"

"Yes. Not that bad."

But there went another chilly wind, teasing her skin that her goosebumps worsened—sensing the morphing of the atmosphere.

"Mother?" The charioteer called, feeling unwieldy of her silence. 

Athena halted—petrified by the whispering despondency that slowly manifested. 

His hold on Athena's hand became tight—gripping gradually until the maiden felt restricted and in pain. 

"Erichthonius, let go." She told him, battling his clutch with nails clawing on his skin. "Please, let go."

"What is wrong, mother? I thought you were delighted to see me." He taunted as his grin grew wider and wider. 

"Let go of me!" Athena successfully freed herself from his demanding hands. 

The dark purple sky turned red. The sweeping winds became sharp and brutal. Howls began to bellow from afar as the constellation suddenly transformed into some being with a menacing physique and eyes that burned with hatred. 

Athena was horrified by the metamorphosis—the figure who came was not the son she knew by heart. Her vulnerability had led astray and into the pits of grave danger. 

As she turned around to escape the nightmare, Athena was immediately seized—imprisoned by the large hands of the monster that insulted the very image of Erichthonius. 

"Where are you going, my fair lady?" He teased, forcing her to look at him as his face revealed the daemon that he was. "You are mine, and no one will have you." He roared. "You have nowhere to run Athena! You belong to me!"

Once he opened his large mouth, Athena screamed—twisting and turning on his hold, hoping to gain some freedom before her unwise demise. 

But then—

"Lady Athena… Lady Athena! Wake up!" Someone called, along with the shaking of the earth and the blaring sounds of the nightmare. "Wake up, my lady!"

"Huh?" Athena woke up.

All was just a dream—a horrible dream. 

"Wha—what just happened?" She asked as she let out a yawn and stretched her arms. "Did I fall asleep again?"

"Oh, no need to fret about it, my lady," Naida answered. "We understood of such tiredness. We were only worried about you mumbling something."

A rush of heat burned her cheeks, ashamed of such unruly behavior. "I am sorry about that. I just had a dream—not of a bad type. Just a simple dream." She lied through her jolly little smile. 

"Thank goodness it is nothing more."

"Maybe you need to sleep again, my lady?" Cloe entered with some flowers in her hands. 

"No need, Cloe. It is wrong for me to be slothful while everyone is busy with their hands." Athena said as she rose from her seat. 

"Well, if you are ready to get ready, my dear, give us a sign. But I am worried about this." Liene stated as she raised the sheer robe for the silver-eyed maiden to see. 

Without a doubt, there was a clear surprise look painted on Athena's face once she saw the thin material of her dress. Like the others thought, she finds the robe very opulent—too lovely for a lady like her to try it on. 

 "But why would I refuse now when what remains of me is nothing but memories of the past?" She quietly thought while curving the corner of he lips. 

Noticing the brightness omitting from her, Liene, Cloe, and Naida were bemused and in awe by the fair maiden's optimistic gesture to what they thought was some kind of insult from Eris and Enyo.

While Athena studied the fabric—feeling with her hands the enlaced details of peonies and follies, Liene requested Naida to bring more of the wine as they readied the other things before the said forum began. 

"To warm the lady. Please do bring more of it, Naida." The old servant requested. 

"There is still some wine left inside the bottle. I will ask the cook for it." Naida then excused herself and dashed.

Once the door closed, Liene moved towards the maiden and inquired, "Are you not disappointed with it, my lady? I understand that this is not to your liking."

"It was not to my liking when I was a goddess," Athena said, facing her with sunshine behind those silver orbs. "But I must face this new life with light and openness. To start, I am willing to wear this. It may be odd at first, but I will manage somehow."

Liene looked at Cloe, who smiled in relief. 

It felt like a thorn was plucked out from the old servants' spirits after hearing her ardent response. Yet, little did they know, Athena's heart was beating out of its usual rhythm, with sweat commencing on her palms and feet trembling like the rumble before the fall. The thought of wearing a flamboyant robe was toilsome—but she had to move forward, as time only cared about moving on. 

No longer did the mighty Athena have control of what lies tomorrow. 

When she was ready, Liene and Cloe immediately anointed her with a concoction of various oils and perfumes that were undeniably overwhelming. The scent of rose, lilies, and a hint of lavender danced around them. It felt like paradise. The ladies had a cheery conversation while the gentle servants continued to massage and care for Athena's skin with more oil and perfume on her long locks. 

While dolled up, the aroma loosely enveloped the closed four corners of the room and prompted Liene to exclaim, "Goodness! There is something familiar about the scent. It felt like I was once again in Olympus."

"It is—Something about the scent that takes me back to the glory past," Cloe affirmed, putting a finger down on her chin. 

"Oh, I could not get my tongue straight. The scent does evoke some memories."

"It reminded me of Aphrodite," Athena said as she closed her eyes and wandered back to one specific moment. 

"Maybe that's it!" A eureka moment sparked in Liene's head. "Maybe these were Aphrodite's. Now, I wonder how those two wicked goddesses got a hold of these?" 

Athena let out a naïve giggle, making Cloe and Liene wonder. 

"What so humorous, my lady?" Cloe asked. 

"The goddess of love is a giver. I remember a bottle like this—" She took one bottle and continued, "Something similar was given to Pygmalion and Galatea as one of her gifts during their wedding."

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