Red as the Pomegranate

"I guarantee that this is not to Athena's liking," Liene complained as she raised the robe that Eris and Enyo desired for the silver-eyed maiden to wear.

The fabric was beautiful and opulent—but one can see through if Athena would decide to wear it. 

"This is not what Lady Athena will wear—and I tell you that!" She strongly reaffirmed. 

"It is true." Cloe agreed, painting a concerned look in her eyes while arranging the flower ornaments. "It left little to nothing. Wandering eyes will not turn around once they see the fair lady in it."

Liene grew red. Her nose was hot, and her hands were tightly grasping onto the clothing, repelled by such flamboyance. 

It was blue—the lady's favored color—and soft décor of peonies circling on the lower tip. The cloth was undeniably magical despite being too sheer for Athena's taste. Everyone knows the once goddess of wisdom desired only the simplest of robes.

The servants had an aura of dim gray enveloping all over them. Continuing with their tasks—perfume bottles lined up on a table, and flowers for Athena's hair were placed on top of the thin robe as it rested on the bed. Cloe and Liene still had their lips closely shut, letting all those despairs drown the airiness of the room. 

 Instead of some glorious celebration, their current duties felt more like preparing for a funeral. The ornaments might be lush, but the intention was grim—dark as the two wicked goddesses' envy as the servants held on to their speculation there was some scheme sentenced against their dear lady Athena. 

The flowers were lovely—in full bloom, expressing smiles and dainty good tidings for all to see. Roses were white, peonies were pink, and there was the baby's breath to match the hue of the robe. Yet, no matter how lively the florals were, they still masked the uncertainty of the whole event. 

"Should I wake Lady Athena?" Cloe asked, cutting through the long train of thought. 

"Let her wake up on her own," Liene answered. "The afternoon is too serene and perfect for her rest."

Cloe nodded as she leaned her head back against a wall. 

As the sky turned orange, slowly bleeding a crimson on the horizon, Naida finally came with a wide grin. 

"Greetings, my fine folks!" She giddily announced. 

"What is with that smile?" Liene wondered. 

"I am done reminding those hooligans of Lady Athena's food. But the most important thing aside from finishing such a task is that I eavesdrop on those blabbering ducks."

"Good news?" Liene's eyes torched, sparking a little hope. 

"I hope that is indeed good news, Naida." Cloe followed, all the while still closing her eyes. 

"A great news." Naida assuredly stated. "We need not to worry of Lady Athena. She is not being sold to some transaction as we initially thought. Instead, I heard the cook saying they would be busy preparing more food for tonight as Enyo, Eris, and Athena will have some kind of a small forum."

"A forum?" The droopy Cloe quickly opened her eyes. 

"Yes—a forum."

"But Naida," Liene started, "What kind of forum? Look at this robe! Aphrodite might be the only one who will appreciate it."

As Naida drew closer and saw the robe, she confirmed Liene's statement. "Goodness me! Every sacred detail of her will be of a clear view!" 

"That is what we thought. If my head is not at stake, I would have had this thing be off our sights—burned it until its existence was gone." Old Liene haughtily stated, intensely glaring at the robe. 

Cloe sighed, glued to her seat, as she calmed her brewing anxiety. "That is a relief, Naida. At least it is nothing more but a talk between goddesses."

Liene sighed along, defeated by the other's instant reassurance. Those lingering suspicions were then hastily buried. 

Fair it was for those worries to die down.

But was it fair for those questions to be simply left unanswered? 

Old Liene did not bother anymore and finished what she was supposed to do. 

Once done, with not a single stone unturned. The three ladies rested for a while as they sat on the floor and breathed out all the strains that idled inside their bodies. 

A while later, not more than a minute, Cloe stood and told the others, "Better be on your best conduct. I will go now and wake Lady Athena." 

Liene and Naida complied, pulling their weight, and readied everything before Athena came. Naida then immediately left afterward to get the food and wine. 

As Cloe entered the room, Athena was still sleeping, with her head on the bathtub's edge. 

"My lady—" She gently called as she poked her shoulder. "My lady, time to wake up now."

Athena squirmed a little but paid no heed to the servant's sound.

"Wake up now, my lady." Cloe went on. 

After the second plea, the silver-eyed maiden finally woke up. 

"Huh? Oh, good day, Cloe." She lazily smiled. "Did I sleep that much?"

"It is alright, my lady. Don't hasten your rest—you need it."

"Is it still morning?" 

"The sun is now setting, my lady."

Athena jolted, rippling the water that was once calmly blanketing her while she was dazed. "Goodness me!" She exclaimed, brows arched, and silver orbs widened. "I am sorry for such behavior. I never meant to take this long."

Cloe gave her an assuring smile and said, "Time always moves dear one. Come now, and let me dry you."

Athena's cheeks grew a faint crimson—a glow that dispelled hopelessness. She took the servant's hand and let her dry her body once she stepped out of the tub. 

Droplets of water fell on the undecorated floor. Little pools formed, mirroring a hundred images of Athena's naked body as Cloe grabbed a soft cloth before she began drying her long locks. The fair lady stared at one of the splatters and contemplated something while she unknowingly stared at her body. 

She remained silent as the servant did her job—keenly drying every inch of her. 

Nothing changed in her form. The same body, same face, but something in her core changed. Being a mortal altered her soul. There was a change in perspective—a drastic change that she could not even manipulate under her fingers. 

Being a goddess was difficult—

But no one could comprehend further that being a human was a trial more than what Heracles went through. 

There was no power, no maneuver over the highs and lows of life. You cannot twist fate—fate now holds you. 

There was her body—the same form as how she first existed. The pools on the floor reflected her perfectly. Looking at her image, she felt like crying. She did not understand what became of her. Sadness just suddenly engulfed her whole being.

"All done, my lady," Cloe said, breaking her deepening thought. "Wrap this cloth around you, and we will go to the other room." 

Athena followed. 

Liene greeted the fair maiden once she entered the room. She then told her what they intended to do and let her sit on the bed.

"Before we start beautifying you, my lady, we will wait for Naida as she will bring you some food and drink." She finished. 

Athena warmly beamed at her. "Thank you, Liene. May I know the intention behind this hospitality?"

"With all honesty, my lady, we knew not much. But we heard from Enyo and Eris's servants that they planned on having you for their meeting."

Silver eyes then remembered, "Yes—I now recall Eris telling the god of that." Her thoughts brought her back to Ares and Eris's conversation about ships and payment. Maybe this presumed talk with them was another masquerade, but the whilom goddess no longer cared. Real or not, she already planted a seed that readied her in a circumstance that would add more scars to her once immaculate skin. 

The nourishment at last came, and the servants left—decided to wait outside as they let Athena have some space and savored every bit of her meal. 

Bursting into her sight, Athena caught a glimpse of an olive and smiled at the memory of how her beloved land of Athens came to be. Her head wandered back to how Cecrops's land was torn between her and Poseidon as they argued about who would have the acropolis for themselves. 

Yet, as history immortalized, Athena won and had the land renamed after her. 

"It was one of my long life's highlights." She told herself as the passing winds brushed across her pale face. 

Not a little piece remained. The maiden's plate was clean, and Athena found it quite laughable. "How greedy of me." She commented. Feeling the need to cleanse her palate, she carefully took the cup and studied the wine before engulfing it. She noted how lovely the color was—complementing well to the golden cup it contained. 

"My thoughts flickered another hazy memory—" She began to soliloquize, "I remember the pomegranate I plucked after I appeared in Olympus. It was sweet, and I loved how Helios's rays shined upon it. I remember how it dazzled like a gem—a flaming red that somehow reminded me of a ruby."

The wine, indeed, looked sweet. But, as Athena drew her nose closer, something in the aroma beguiled her. It was familiar but not. It smelled divine but also overwhelming. It smelled like a rose but not earthy and very much not the same as the wine Dionysus had in their heavenly palace.

However, all seemed well despite the uncanniness of the drink. Athena then gradually drank—guzzling every drop until what was left was a red stain. Her lips were also tainted, and the warmth immediately embraced her insides. 

"Hm," She sounded, "It is new but sweet." 

As she put down the cup, her silver eyes suddenly became bright, tailed by a gush of vigor she thought no longer was there.