9th Period: The Final Days with Athena

It was beneath a canvas of blue that Athena and I planned to spend an idyllic afternoon together, indulging in the simple joy of a picnic at one of the local parks. We brought along a gorgeous blanket, spacious enough for us to lie down on as we gazed upon the sky, with a wicker basket filled to the brim with our favorite treats. As we spread out the blanket on the verdant grass, Athena, with a mischievous smile on her face, presented me with a delicate bouquet of wildflowers she had picked during our walk to the park, their fragrant scent wafting through the air. 

"Isn't it wonderful, the way the universe paints pictures for us?" Athena murmured, her eyes reflecting the warm hues of the sky. 

"It's incredible," I agreed, tracing the outline of a liger-shaped cloud, "See that over there? It looks like another liger, but this one is basking in the sunset," I said as Athena laughed at my description, her voice dancing with the light breeze. 

"I see it, but I also see a dragon chasing the horizon. And over there," she pointed to a distant cloud shaped like a Silvicus, "what do you see?" 

The Silvicus is a small to medium-sized primate that typically has a long tail; most live in trees in tropical countries and primarily inhabit the tree-dense areas of Mithraeum. They are agile, intelligent, and friendly creatures. They have four limbs with opposable thumbs for climbing and manipulating objects. They also have a prehensile tail to aid in their arboreal lifestyle. However, to adapt to Mithraeum's unique environment, they also have some distinct features. Since Mithraeum has a lower sense of gravity, the Silvicus have become much larger and capable of incredible leaps between the trees. When the planet becomes darker due to its distance from its twin stars, the Silvicus have developed larger eyes for better night vision and even echolocation abilities, much like bats, to navigate in the dark. Their fur is vibrantly colored, allowing them to hide with Mithraeum's vegetation, which can be brightly colored, providing them with camouflage. 

"The Silvicus is perhaps swinging from cloud to cloud, leaping through the sky as if it's his own personal playground," I replied.

She chuckled, "And I see a carefree astronaut, tumbling weightlessly in the expanse of the cosmos. It's like an exquisite dance choreographed by nature."

We continued our shared reverie, each cloud formation sparking a new narrative, a new perspective. The conversation flowed as effortlessly as the clouds themselves, adding another layer to our shared experience under the vast, ever-evolving sky. Laughter and soft whispers filled the air as we exchanged innocent tales from our past, our hands entwined in a comfortable silence. A profound change in the atmosphere occurred when Athena fell silent; her playful demeanor was replaced with a solemn intensity. She turned to look at me, her eyes reflecting the setting sun's first blush. My breath hitched as she moved in closer, complete silence enveloping us, broken only by the sound of our synchronized heartbeats. 

As her soft lips met mine, the world around us seemed to pause, the background noises fading into nothingness. Our hearts pounded in unison, our cheeks flushed with the exhilaration of the moment. We lost ourselves in a fervent kiss, a silent proclamation of our deeply entwined emotions. With the setting sun as our backdrop, we remained in each other's arms, relishing the sweet aftermath of our shared passion.

"I never thought I'd kiss you under a cloud shaped like an astronaut," Athena murmured, her voice a soft whisper. 

I chuckled softly, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. "And I never thought I'd be kissing the most beautiful young lady on this side of the cosmos under a Silvicus-shaped cloud." 

Her laughter echoed in the evening air, a delightful sound that warmed my heart. "And to think, we're just two tiny beings in this vast universe," she mused. 

I nodded, a tender smile playing on my lips. "Two tiny beings, taking on the cosmos together. Just you and me, Athena. Amidst all the stars, galaxies, and infinite space, it's just you and me here right now."

A comfortable silence settled between us once again, punctuated only by the rhythm of our synchronized heartbeats. With a shared giggle, we turned our gaze back to the sky, our fingers still intertwined, ready for whatever adventure the universe had in store for us next. 

As darkness fell upon us, we began to pack up our things so we could head back to the mansion, both of us feeling thankful for an amazing evening spent together. This was shaping up to be the greatest Solstice of Solara we had ever experienced since we were able to spend it with each other. 

Suddenly, the jovial atmosphere started to falter as a sense of unease permeated the air. The chirping of insects that had been providing a serene soundtrack to our evening began to sound more like the ominous ticking of a clock nearing midnight. The stars above, which had been twinkling in innocent mirth, now seemed to dim, as though shying away from some impending doom. Our laughter, which had been echoing through the woods, was now replaced with a palpable silence. It was as if the universe was holding its breath, awaiting a catastrophe. As my hand reached for my buzzing phone lying in the backpack, a cold shiver ran down my spine, almost as though a premonition of the devastation that was about to ravage our blissful world. 

I answered the call, and a familiar voice filled with sorrow and urgency spoke. "Son, I have terrible news regarding your father! The last thing I want to do is alarm you, but it can't wait until you return tomorrow from your Solstice of Solara vacation. We need to plan your father's funeral. Sadly, he passed away during an accident that took place at Lenora Institute of Technology just the other day," said Michelle, her voice breaking. 

"You'll have to come home early; sorry to cut your vacation short," continued my mother while she cried before hanging up.

It was too much for her to talk about. The words echoed through the static as I recalled what I had just been told, "We need to plan your father's funeral."

A shockwave of disbelief rippled through me. I stood there, frozen, the communication device clutched tightly in my hand. The news of my father's death felt like a cruel joke, a terrible nightmare from which I desperately wanted to wake. But the reality was there, raw and harsh, a bitter pill that I was forced to swallow. The world around me, which was filled with jubilant celebration just a moment ago, blurred into insignificance. My mind rejected reality while my heart ached terribly. I felt a heavy lump in my throat. I wanted to scream, to shout, to deny the truth, but instead, I found myself whispering in a voice that barely sounded like my own, "Athena, my father...he's gone." 

Athena looked at me, her eyes filled with concern and confusion. She reached out, her hand resting on my arm as if trying to offer me some solace in the face of this shocking news.

"Henry," she murmured softly, "what happened? Did he leave his Household? That sort of thing doesn't happen in our society. You couldn't mean he's gone, as in he passed away?"

"He passed away recently," I explained, my voice shaking. 

"I'm...I'm so sorry," she said. The sympathy in her voice felt like a lifeline in the stormy sea of my grief.

I tried to smile but couldn't find the strength. Athena gently pulled me into an embrace, her warmth serving as a temporary oasis from the icy chill of my sorrow. 

"Henry," she whispered, her voice steady despite the grief lacing her words, "we'll navigate through this storm together. You're not alone." 

Pulling back, she held my hands in hers, her gaze steady and resolute. 

"Listen to me," she urged, "this is a tough time, yes, but remember, the darkest nights produce the brightest stars. Your father was a brilliant man who left a wonderful legacy. You are a part of that legacy." 

She paused, giving me a moment to soak in her words before continuing, "This happened to a friend of ours. He might have some resources that could help you process these emotions you are feeling. You should know she was the one who lost her mother. She could be of some help to you in this challenging phase of your life. I'll give her a call and tell her to get in contact with you." 

Her kindness was a balm to my raw emotions. It was a stark reminder that even in the face of life's cruel disruptions, I had a friend who would stand by me, lending me her strength when I needed it the most. As Athena's words resonated within me, a tiny seed of hope sprung to life, modest yet resilient. The thought of returning home, to the reality of my father's absence, cast a heavy shadow on my heart. Yet, her compassion worked like subtle rays of dawn, piercing the night of my grief, and illuminating my path forward. 

"I'll return home tomorrow," I admitted, my voice but a mere whisper against the stillness of our surroundings. A sigh escaped my lips, carrying with it the weight of my unspoken sorrow. "The last days of my Solstice of Solara vacation will be spent planning...planning my father's funeral with my mother."

The words hung in the air, stark and unwelcome, yet necessary. Amidst the engulfing sadness, the echo of Athena's kindness stirred feelings of gratitude within me. Despite the icy grip of loss, the warmth of our friendship provided solace, reminding me that I was not alone in facing this storm.