Chapter Text
When Calypso had suddenly told Odysseus that he was free to leave Ogygia, to say that he was confused was putting it lightly. He had been bewildered by the sudden change, but it wasn’t unwelcome. Although it had taken a long time, at least he could finally leave the forsaken island.
Calypso had begged Odysseus to stay, ranting about her love for him. And Odysseus professed that he cared for her, but neither as a lover, as the goddess wanted, nor as a friend, as she believed. He merely pitied her lonely existence, and Odysseus could sympathise with her to a certain extent. They had both been cursed by gods who found it entertaining to toy with their lives and take away everything precious to them.
And maybe in another world (but that’s not a world I know), Odysseus might’ve actually considered befriending her because of their shared struggles. Perhaps he might’ve even helped her escape her prison. But alas, this monster had no more love to give or spare. After all, wasn’t ruthlessness mercy upon ourselves?
Still, Odysseus had not expected Hermes to help him. Although of all the gods, the trickster god was the most likely to help him. Hermes had already aided Odysseus a lot in the past. Without the help of his divine great-grandfather, Odysseus definitely would have lost the fight against Circe.
Hermes guided Odysseus back to Ithaca. The god even helped keep watch whenever Odysseus fell asleep since sleep was something that the gods didn’t need, although apparently they still liked to indulge in the activity. Another reminder of Odysseus’s human limitations.
The King of Ithaca knew that Hermes could not stay forever. Gods had their own rules to abide by, and they weren’t supposed to interfere too much with mortal affairs, or so it went. Odysseus didn’t mind; he was more than grateful to Hermes for his help.
“Say, Odysseus, hypothetically, if you were to encounter your mentor again, what would happen?” Odysseus startled at the sudden and odd question from Hermes, who was hovering beside him.
He frowned and replied bluntly, “I’d try to fight her, and then I’d probably get smitten for not knowing my place.” (This way, you’ll know what your place is.)
Hermes chuckled, although it sounded half-hearted to Odysseus’s ears, and asked, almost sounding hesitant, “So there’s no chance of you patching things up with her?”
“No, absolutely not. She’s made it abundantly clear that she doesn’t want to see me again either. Athena hasn’t appeared since her goodbye. She didn’t even answer my prayer at Ogygia.”
It hurt Odysseus more than it should have when he realised that Athena didn’t care about him. He knew that she didn’t want a friend, but still, did all of the years she spent training him really mean nothing to her? Maybe that was just how immortal beings were.
Something unreadable flashed across Hermes’s face for a brief moment, but it was gone in the next. The god smiled at Odysseus and suddenly procured a bag from who-knows-where.
“Well, I suppose you must be right. Now, for the main attraction of the day… the windbag! We went through so much to get this, so keep this bag close if you want to get home.”
“You won’t get another chance to try~.” Winions suddenly appeared behind Hermes as they sang, and the winged god gave Odysseus the bag. The king held it tightly. He had done this before. He had stayed awake for nine days without rest to keep a bag similar to the one in his hand closed. But the difference now was that there wasn’t anybody left to open it. 600 men, all of them dead. Only Odysseus was alive.
Hermes gave a bow before starting to fly off, the winions following him. Without thinking, Odysseus called out after his great-grandfather, “Hermes! …Thank you.”
The god paused as he turned back to look at Odysseus, something akin to a solemn expression on his face as he replied, “Don’t thank me, friend. I’m not the one who fought for you.”
Fought? Odysseus stilled when he heard those words. Could it be? But then why wasn’t she here to help him? (This way, I’ll close the door.)
“Then who?”
Hermes shrugged as he said with a smirk, “Heh, good luck~.” Then, the God of Thieves vanished into thin air, leaving Odysseus with more questions than answers.
He really wanted to believe that Athena had helped him. But if that were true, would that make him feel better or worse? He didn’t know. His emotions towards Athena were still a mess even after all these years.
Ah, what use was it pondering over this? Perhaps Hermes had lied to him and nobody had fought for him. After all, he could not imagine the prideful Athena fighting for his sake, even if she had heard his prayer.
Odysseus glanced down at the windbag in his hands. It didn’t matter. He just had to focus on getting home to Penelope and Telemachus.
When Athena came to, she was no longer in the arena. Water lapped at her feet as she sat on a beach, feeling the grainy sand beneath her.
Athena looked around her. There was only sand and water around her. Nothing else. Or at least, that was what she thought.
Suddenly, an all too familiar-looking sea nymph emerged from the water, a bright smile on her face. A soft gasp escaped Athena’s no longer burning throat when she saw the nymph because she should be DEAD.
Pallas giggled at Athena’s shocked expression and asked, tilting her head to the side, “Is something wrong, Thea?”
Yes, there were many things wrong with the current situation. But Athena, who was ever so selfish, didn’t want to mention them in fear that it would cause something to ruin this moment. This was the moment that she knew it wasn’t real and was merely an illusion conjured by her broken mind.
“It’s nothing. I told you not to call me that, Pallas,” Athena chided softly, and Pallas, who had a goofy smirk on her face that the Goddess of Wisdom hadn’t seen in so, so many years, simply giggled. She poked Athena’s shoulder and pouted, “But it’s cute, Thea! Besides, you haven’t beaten me in a duel yet, so I can still call you that! You said that I could call you that until I lose to you in a duel, remember?”
Athena’s breath hitched. Right, that promise. In the end, Pallas would stop calling her Thea. Even if she had stopped doing it in the worst way possible.
“Come on, Thea! Let’s have some fun in the water! My father isn’t here right now, so we can enjoy ourselves for a bit!” Pallas tugged on Athena’s arm, pulling the woman into the water with her.
The cool water hit Athena’s face, and she savoured the feeling while she watched Pallas swim around. The cold was almost enough for her to forget the burning feeling of lightning.
Pallas suddenly stopped swimming and looked up at the sky. She asked softly, almost whispering, “Hey Thea, do you wish for this to last forever?”
The question took Athena by surprise, but nevertheless, she nodded and answered, “Of course, Pallas.”
“...Then… Then why did you K I L L me?”
Pallas turned, her voice strained. A spear – Athena’s spear – was lodged in her abdomen. There was a betrayed expression on her face as she repeated, “Why, Thea?”
Athena stood there, unable to answer. It had been an accident, a mistake. But it wasn’t a mistake she could undo. She reached out for the spear, but her trembling hand stopped just short of the handle. Athena’s voice wavered as she spoke, “I- I’m sorry, Pallas… I’m sorry…”
There was no response as the nymph fell into the water. The waves swallowed her whole, and Pallas’s dead body disappeared. Athena simply stared at where Pallas had been. She should’ve expected this. She had already known that this was nothing more than a dream. Yet she had still decided to hold onto the sliver of hope that somehow, it was real.
The wind howled in Athena’s ear, carrying those words that she still remembered even after almost 10 years.
Unlike you, every time someone dies, I’m left to deal with the strain! Athena did know the pain of losing someone. She knew it so well that she had tried to shut out everyone. You couldn’t lose what you didn’t have, after all. In the end, it didn’t work. She still lost a friend.
This way, when all is done, you’re out of sight and out of mind! Yes, wouldn’t it be better if everyone forgot about her? It was clear that she hadn’t made the right decisions and was merely causing trouble for everyone.
Why’s your life spent all alone? You’re alone! And was it wrong of her to wish that she wasn’t? Wish that she could join Dionysus’s parties and thoroughly enjoy them without a stern expression on her face? Wish that she could speak freely with her siblings? Laugh and joke with them?
More than anything, all she wanted was a friend. A friend to comfort her when it felt like she would collapse under the pressure of everything.
You’re my friend. I couldn’t ask for more!
Ah, that was right. She still had Telemachus, for now. But if he knew the truth about how she had ruthlessly abandoned his father, would he still want to be friends with her? Probably not.
Then, another voice sounded. But this time, it wasn't someone she was expecting.
Athena, I don't know if you can hear me, but please wake up soon. Even Ares is worried for you, although he refuses to admit it.
Apollo's voice. Her brother's voice. Athena wouldn't lie; she was basically estranged from all of her siblings. However, Apollo was someone who she was on relatively neutral terms with. He had never shown any affection for her, but neither had he shown any hatred for her, at least not outwardly.
But was this voice truly Apollo’s, or was it simply another illusion from her delusional mind? It was hard for her to believe that Ares was worried about her. Shouldn’t he be wishing for her death? If she were gone, then he would have full claim over the domain of war.
Athena contemplated for a few seconds whether she should trust the voice or not. The voice’s words were illogical and made zero sense. However, her gut feeling told her that it was really Apollo speaking to her.
Perhaps it was becoming a trend for the Goddess of Wisdom to ignore logic. She waded in the water, moving towards Apollo’s voice. As she grew closer, her body started to hurt more. Athena might as well have been on fire at that point. The vision in her right eye was also beginning to blur.
She wanted to stop now. If trying to wake up from this dream hurt so badly, then she’d much rather lie in the sand for all eternity. But Athena couldn’t be selfish like that. Not when her siblings were burdened with concern for her. Not when Telemachus, her only friend left, had to deal with the suitors.
Moving was starting to become cumbersome. A small zap would jolt through Athena’s entire body whenever she took another step forward. Perhaps flying would be easier.
Athena shifted into her owl form. By now, she had lost all sight in her right eye. It would be difficult to fly with only one working eye, but nothing that she couldn’t manage. Or so she thought.
She flapped her wings and flew towards Apollo’s voice. But not even after five seconds, her wings started to falter. Golden ichor leaked out of wounds that had not been there previously and stained the water below her.
Ozone filled the air as Athena’s feathers started to turn black, as if they had been burnt. Still, she continued her journey. She was close, she could feel it.
Apollo’s familiar radiance was so close to her. Just a little more…
Athena screeched in pain as a shock ran through her. She started to fall, her wings unable to support her any longer. She landed in the water with a splash. Her soaked feathers weighed her down, and the goddess started to sink.
Water filled Athena’s lungs as she sank. She didn’t need to breathe, but it was still an unpleasant feeling. Never mind the streaks of lightning running across her wings.
Ah, maybe she would sleep a little longer; waking up was too painful at the moment. She could no longer sense Apollo’s warmth. He had probably given up on her, and she couldn’t blame him. Or maybe she could, but even thinking was too troublesome right now. So she would leave those thoughts for future Athena.
However, unbeknownst to her, future Athena would only wake up six fitful nights later, covered in bandages stained with ichor as she screamed Odysseus’s name.