Chapter Text
Ava winced at the sudden pain, then turned her head to the beach, from where she had heard the loud noise. She sighed, watching blood slowly slide through her finger, as the fresh wound closed faster than humanly possible. ‘Another one, then’. She thought, resigned, and left the pruning shears near the mesmerizing wild rose bush she had been tending.
She made her way through her garden hurriedly, because no matter how little excited she was to meet the next person to break her heart, she knew they usually needed her when they got to the island.
Her eyes didn’t stop at any of the most exotic plants surrounding her in the magnificent garden, all of them in peak blossoming state, even though it wasn’t spring, even though technically it never was. She did however try to recall the state of the most important part of the garden: the herbs and medicinal plants.
After a short passage through the thicker trees that protected her garden from the sea, the path opened to a beautiful but small crystal-clear water beach.
She easily found her target on the sand, near the water, and redirected herself to the spot, while sending wordless directions. Bring the litter to the beach, and clear space on the table, you know the drill, guys.
The person on the beach was wearing black from tip to toe, literally, a tight hood covering all but his face. He looked petite from that distance, and Ava hurried as she noticed he was trying to lift himself on trembling legs.
“Do not move.” She said, as a way of announcing her presence. She was more than ready to keep going and give her usual speech, but as the stranger on her island turned to face her, she was rendered speechless, for it was not a hero that looked at her with wide, fearful eyes, but a heroine. A woman.
Damned be the Gods of Olympus, because they have to be fucking kidding her.
.
Her annoyance was rapidly contained as the woman in front of her fell back on the sand and lost consciousness. And when the ancient ritual of healing ignited in her mind, she thought of nothing but the wellbeing of her patient.
The litter found them immediately, carried by the winds, but Ava thanked it, anyway. She hurried in front of it, confident that the litter would follow her through the garden and into the cave that had been her home for thousands of years.
The cave was big and tall, adorned with a myriad of objects on wooden handcrafted shelves that seemed to mold themselves to the cave’s walls, giving it a sense of organized mess that soothed Ava’s senses. Dried herbs hung from every high surface, along with a variety of crystals. A pile of wood moved through the air in a corner, as invisible hands started a fire in the embedded fireplace. In the back of the cave, behind white curtains, there was a massive bed and an ancient loom.
The litter was positioned on top of the big table at the center of the room and soon chamomile branches, aloe vera leaves along with other types of dried herbs floated around her, finding a home in equally floating mortars.
Ava noticed the heroine was wearing weird clothes, very tactical, a lot of leather, and apparently useless buckles. She looked professional, and as Ava looked at her face in search of any signs of pain, she looked very serene, having yet to wake up.
Her wound, however, looked vicious and deep. As soon as Ava ripped the clothes off the heroine’s chest, she grimaced, sympathetically. It looked like an animal’s claw cut. Maybe a hellhound or a fury? It didn’t matter, most of them required the same treatment, and as she was handed one mortar, with the plaster now ready to be applied, she closed her eyes and concentrated.
There wasn’t actually much to see, but anyone who knew about ancient magic, or even someone sensitive enough could tell that the herbs alone weren’t doing the healing. Ava murmured a few words in ancient Greek and whatever needed to happen to enhance the chances of the unconscious body to survive started to happen.
No bright lights from the sky, no inexplicable heat in the cave, just Ava and her voice, her words and the herbs of the island, and the hero in front of her would only need a good night of sleep, water, and some comfort food in the morning to survive.
When Ava opened her eyes, the mortars were nowhere to be found, there was a small fire in the fireplace and Ava thanked her servants, feeling tired suddenly.
She looked at the heroine on her table and moved her hands to take the hood off her head revealing dark hair held tightly in a bun. Her features were so soft, round nose, soft cheeks, full lips. Ava refrained from bringing her fingers to the face of the stranger. The gods had never sent her a woman before. She couldn’t help but feel curious.
She covered the now sealed wound with linen bandages soaked with a mix of herbs to prevent infection and covered the semi-naked hero with a heavy blanket. She was expecting a fever soon enough. The hero had a long night in front of her and so had Ava. She could only hope that the hero would be strong enough to prevail. But they usually were.
Ava released a deep sigh and sat near the fire. Why did she care? What wouldn’t she give to not care? This woman meant yet another time she would be left with a broken heart on this island that was at the same time her beloved home and her cursed prison.
She remembered the last time she had had company. Not so long ago, she thought, although time passed differently on the island. He had said he would come back for her. But then again, all of them said that. She had at least learned not to believe them after all these centuries. She still couldn't avoid getting feelings for him. But then again, she never was.
That was her curse. She was trapped in Ogygia, an untraceable island where random heroes came when they got lost in the seas or were thrown to the skies during battles and needed a place to heal. Every single one of them, her type. Every single one of them, with unquestionable morale and full of heroic tales to share. Every single one of them, with braveness in their heart and a sense of responsibility to the world they had come from.
And every single one of them, bound to go back to their world, to their family, to their freedom the moment Ava fell in love with them.
The gods had never sent her a woman, though. She had never thought about…? Could she even…?
There was not much to do from that point on but wait for the heroine’s response to the injury. Although ugly, her injury didn’t find any organs and with the Ogygia’s magic at her side, Ava was confident she would survive the night.
.
Ava woke up to a spear pointed at her face. It was not the first time. She was also not surprised the heroine had gotten so far without waking her up. Morpheus was a good friend of hers, Ava was very fond of sleeping. “Who are you and where am I?” Came the voice from somewhere on the other side of the spear and Ava couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the audacity and, honestly, the predictability of the heroes of Greece and Rome.
“Do you really not know, yet?” Ava asked, her voice surely rough from sleep and thirst. “Come on, don’t they teach you myths, anymore?” She used her hand to move the spear from her eyes but the heroine resisted.
Raising her eyes to her patient, she arched her eyebrows, in a silent challenge. “If I wanted you dead, I could have just left you on that beach.” She argued and noticed the change in the woman’s expression, probably pondering the level of danger Ava represented.
She tried again, and the spear moved enough to let her move her legs out of her queen-sized bed.
“This is a magic island.” The woman stated, rather unnecessarily, putting the apparently retractile spear away.
“It is.” She said, smiling despite herself. The heroes usually took more time to get to certain aspects of their location.
“And you are a sorcerer.” A bit more doubt in her tone that time. Almost as if wishing Ava would contradict her.
Ava lifted herself off the bed, in search of some water, leaving the heroine behind and unanswered. She didn’t particularly like that term. Granted, long story short, she was in fact a sorcerer, but that terminology always came with… baggage. She lived on a magic island that grew plants with extraordinary healing properties, but she had been forced to live there. She learned to use medicinal plants and learned incantations to access and enhance their healing power, but she had been cursed to serve as the Gods’s private caregiver to exceptional heroes—and apparently heroines now too—so yeah. That question would remain unanswered. At least until she got some caffeine in her body.
The kitchen area had been cleaned overnight, no sight of the makeshift hospital bedding it had served as the night before, and there were already two smoking cups waiting for them. Besides her usual cup of coffee, her servants had prepared a cup of black tea for the heroine. Ava hummed, absent-mindedly. She had noticed the British accent in the few words her guest had spoken.
“My name’s Ava.” She said finally, after one sip of her coffee. She could sense the anxious energy coming from the heroine and found it best to kill the mystery right away.
The heroine gulped visibly, before smelling her own cup and taking a tentative sip. Ava smiled at the shock on her face.
“My servants make sure to treat my guests well. So, you’ll find that you’re drinking nothing but your drink of choice.”
She nodded. “Tastes like home.” She added, simply.
Ava took the time to eye her patient more attentively. She was wearing new clothes, magically made overnight by the loom inside her bedroom. They were like the ones she had ripped apart to access the wound area the day before—minus all the surplus of buckles—and she looked anything but comfortable in the tight tactical outfit.
Ava herself was wearing linen white pants and a simple tank top, the same color. She had foregone wearing dresses a long time ago. Even though Ogygia was trapped in time, its lone inhabitant had full access to modern ways of living, such as coffee and the knowledge of women being allowed to wear pants again.
“Can I know your name?” She asked, gently, knowing full well they needed to talk business. Her guest surely had a few questions to ask and long gone were the times that the heroes that came to her didn’t know enough to guess where they were—more so if they were as observant as this heroine was proving to be. Every hero knew the stories about Atlas’ cursed daughter.
“Beatrice.” She said, finally. “My name is Beatrice.” Ava hummed and watched the heroine’s face as she watched trays being brought to the table between them. Modern breakfast food was also a thing in Ogygia, thank you very much, but she noticed her servants had brought the heroine little more than fruits and a bowl of oatmeal. “It’s true, then?” She asked, and Ava leaned her head willing Beatrice to continue. “I am in Ogygia.”
Ava smirked, nodding her confirmation. “It took you less than the others. It must be a record.”
“Is this some kind of game you play?” Beatrice asked, but there was no spike in her tone.
“Maybe.” Ava smiled, apologetically. “A girl needs her fun.”
She watched as a microscopic smile raised one side of Beatrice’s lips. “Then, again, they’re mostly men.”
Ava laughed loudly. “Yes. Yeah, they are.” She noticed the flickering of Beatrice’s eyebrows, already imagining the next question out of her mouth. “How’s your wound?” She asked before the heroine could say anything else and got herself a croissant from the table.
“Mostly healed, although my side is a bit sore.” She said, after another sip. “I’m sure it’ll be fine by tomorrow, though, the magic of Ogygia is widely known for its healing properties.”
Ava nodded, glad that Beatrice seemed to know a bit about her island. “What was it that caused it? If you don’t mind me asking.”
Beatrice tensed at the question but seemed to decide to share the information. “I was… on a mission to retrieve a valuable object with my sisters and we found some resistance in the form of harpies.” She winced.
Ava raised her eyebrows at the information. “Sisters, as in the Amazons or the Hunters?”
“The Hunters,” Beatrice said, and she didn’t completely contain the pride in her tone.
“Wow, that’s so cool,” Ava said, balancing herself on the back legs of the chair. “Now I understand your comment about heroes and their intelligence. How’s Artemis, by the way? It’s been a while since her last visit.”
Beatrice chuckled, blushing lightly and Ava thought she looked cute when flustered. “We are getting better at not undermining men so much, but sometimes it’s simply second nature.” She admitted, apologetically. “She’s fine, mostly. Lonely, sometimes. Since Zoey…”
Ava hummed. “I don’t doubt.” The Goddess’ close relationship with her departed lieutenant was well-known by divine beings. “So, do you wanna look around the place?” She asked eyeing the table to confirm Beatrice had finished her breakfast.
“Honestly, I have already walked around while you slept.” She said, watching her bowl being forcibly taken off her hands. Ava laughed as she watched Beatrice's resentment at being denied the possibility of cleaning her mess and the heroine answered her with an exasperated expression. “But I’d love a tour.” She smiled politely.
They walked side by side out of the cave and into the warm sunny garden.
“So, are they like Aurae?” She asked pointing to the inside of the cave, where her servants supposedly stayed.
Aurae, Ava was aware, were invisible beings that served the demigods at the roman camp. “Oh, I have no idea. They were a gift from Hera and just do anything I need from them. They are a bit clumsy sometimes, but they’re also my only company, most of the time, so…” Ava paused, she didn’t like to lean on her sad story very often. “So, are you from the Romans, then? Since you’re familiarized with Aurae?”
Beatrice turned from the chait noir bush she had been observing. “Yes, I am.” She turned fully to Ava, positioning her hands behind her back. “But I’d appreciate it if you didn’t ask me which deity is my parent if you don’t mind.”
“Ooooh, she said, smelling of a flower that represents mystery in its purest form.” Ava joked, briefly eyeing the dark red flowers beside them, trying to mask how much the statement had left her curious.
Beatrice chuckled and kept walking through the garden. “It is important to keep some of the mystery, I believe.”
The smile died on Ava’s lips, and she gulped the bitter taste. “Even more so, when your only way out of this situation is by keeping me hooked.” She said and she would like to say she had said it like a joke, but it was mostly a challenge, and it also served as a metaphorical kick on the door to start a conversation that needed to take place. She wanted to see Beatrice’s reaction, to know her thoughts about their situation.
Beatrice paused abruptly on her way to the beach. “Ava.” She said carefully, as they resumed their way. “I know it doesn’t mean much, but I’d like you to know that I don’t comply with how Zeus handled your situation. It’s awful that the gods made you pay for the crimes of your father. It’s awful that you’re still paying for it, thousands of years after the first Titan War.”
Ava was not expecting an answer like that and had to fight hard to swallow around nothing, blinking several times to stop the moisture from accumulating in her eyes. It wasn’t even a new sentiment. Beatrice had taken her by surprise, that’s all. If anything, her story raised pity inside even the most insensitive of beings.
However, no one had ever shared it promptly upon the first arrival. They all waited until after. After they had got to know her better, after she had healed them, after they had made her laugh and wormed their way inside her heart. Only after their one-way ticket out of the island had arrived at the beach in the form of a raft, they felt sorry for having to leave her behind. For having to break her heart.
Ava laughed through her nose, trying to ignore her thoughts and her feelings. “It’s not like I didn’t help him at the time. I’m not totally innocent.” She evaded.
“In a world like ours, it can be easy to lose sight of things and commit terrible deeds in the name of our parents. Gods and Titans alike.” She said, simply.
Ava paused at the edge of the beach, watching as Beatrice kept her pace, and wondering if that comment had any roots in personal experience.
.
“So, I’m kinda disappointed I’m not the first Titaness you’ve seen? The heroes tend to be all flabbergasted at this information.” Ava said casually as they walked back toward her garden. They had walked around the island and were now coming back to their starting point.
Beatrice chuckles, good-naturedly. “Yes, I assume the boys they send you aren’t used to seeing a Titaness daily. Or a God, for that matter.” She paused, frowning, and then gasped lowly. “Zoe was your sister!”
Ava smiled. Beatrice was so observant of some things, but it took her this much to notice that detail. “Only half-sister, but yes, she was.”
“Were you close?” Beatrice asked, carefully.
“We were, once, a long time ago.” Before she’d picked her father, before she’d picked the wrong side of the war.
“I’m sorry for your loss.” Ava thanked her and they walked in silence for a while. “So, the raft arrives on this beach?” She asked out of nowhere as they sat around the patterned sheet her servants had brought to the beach, along with some sandwiches and a few options of juice.
The sun was high in the sky. Even though the island was considered small, it had taken them the better part of the morning to go around it.
“Are you planning on leaving me already?” Ava asked, playfully and Beatrice laughed and blushed, and gosh, she did kind of look cute in this light.
“I have never… Can you even?” She paused, huffing lightly. “Not a single story about you hosting a woman has ever left this island. Are the gods homophobic?” She asked, grimacing before taking one of the veggie sandwiches, but Ava noticed the question she was asking without asking directly.
“I mean, some of them probably are?” She shrugged. “But in this case, you’re the first. There has never been a heroine in this island before.”
“Ah, how the tables have turned. You’re not the first Titaness I’ve seen, but I’m the first non-divine woman you’ve seen in thousands of years.” Beatrice smiled at her, clearly proud of her witty comment.
“Well, you are a demigod, so, the non-divine part is debatable.” She answered, feeling proud of herself for the same reason. It was fun to just talk with someone without all the pressure. Ava liked it.
“Yeah, yeah.” She dismissed. “And how am I fending until now?” Beatrice pursed her lips, trying to hold her smile.
“It’s also debatable.” She said, bumping their shoulder together lightly.
Beatrice tsked, unimpressed, taking a sip of juice. “I was never one to be a tour guide anyways.”
At that, Ava frowned. “A tour guide?” Wasn’t Ava the one guiding Beatrice through the island?
Beatrice hummed and shook her head. “Nevermind. You’ve noticed you called me divine, right?”
Ava rolled her eyes, and Beatrice shrugged.
“You’re so relaxed for someone that just found out she’s stuck on an island for an indeterminate amount of time.” She said, but it was actually also a question.
“I’m not worried,” Beatrice said, simply.
“How can you not be?” Ava asked, shocked. She had received a few heroes that have experimented with the idea of simply staying in Ogygia forever, but ultimately, the enticing idea of liberty had been too strong to deny. She simply didn’t think Beatrice was one of those.
“Maybe there’s nothing much to go back to.” She said, low. “Or maybe I’m too important to be left in Ogygia for too long. Who knows?”
Ava leaned back on her hands and studied Beatrice. “Maybe it’s a bit of both.” She said, and Beatrice raised her eyebrows, impressed. “You can’t stay here, though.” She added.
“Why not?” Beatrice asked, a bit of hurt filtering through her tone.
Ava smiled sadly. “I don’t want any other person, let alone another woman, having to go through what I have. You don’t deserve to stay on this island forever.” She looked down at her sandwich.
“You don’t deserve it either,” Beatrice said, delicately touching Ava’s chin with her fingers, and lifting her head. A few moments went by, while Ava searched Beatrice’s eyes and wondered if this was just another time she wouldn’t be able to resist her guest. Beatrice had the sweetest words to share with her and her kindness was proving to be quite alluring.
Beatrice let her hand fall back into her lap and added. “We’ll just have to hope that I’m too important to not be left here for too long, then, right?”
Ava chuckled, lightly, shaking her head and looking at the beach.
“And then, we’re gonna have to hope I’m too important enough to get you a lift too, right?” Beatrice said, and when Ava turned her head to look at her, surprised, she saw Beatrice was also watching the sea, a thoughtful expression on her face.
.
On the second day of Beatrice’s stay, when Ava had asked about her wound, Beatrice told her she could barely feel some soreness at her side. Ava was impressed. She knew her magic was good, but not that good. She filed the fact that Beatrice seemed to have enhanced healing abilities in a dark place in her brain. She was confident the heroine would be completely healed in no time at all.
That is, until Ava was attacked by a gigantic wild boar on her beach.
They were walking and talking again—Ava would have to be excused. She didn’t actually have a lot of entertaining activities available on her island, besides walking and talking, gardening and bathing at the beach or in the small falls in the interior of Ogygia.
Ava was fondly, even if a bit mockingly, sharing her top three favorite reactions from heroes at finding out they were in Ogygia and Beatrice was laughing at their antics and mocking them profusely when it happened. When the definitely magic animal showed out of nowhere.
And it had come with a purpose, apparently. It ran straight up to Ava.
They were both quite distracted by each other’s company, but Beatrice had been the one watching Ava, while she talked, so she was faster than Ava. “Ava, watch out.”
She pushed Ava out of the beast’s way, her cool spear appearing out of nowhere. She wasn’t fast enough to avoid being hit by the boar's first attack, however, and fell on the beach, holding her side, spear somehow still on the other hand. She tried and failed to go back on her feet, but by that time, Ava was also ready to fight. A maiden in distress people might think of her, but a maiden in distress she was not. She had a few moves.
Her incantations worked better in restraining, but she reckoned it would be enough to stop an animal, still believing it to be simply scared.
Unfortunately for her, most of her casting revolved around standing still in one place while she concentrated. The boar also seemed to be in a particularly revengeful mood and Ava quickly asked herself if she had somehow personally offended any boar-related entities because that thing had blood in its eyes and it wanted nothing to do with Beatrice. It was Ava it was after.
Two seconds after she realized her spell wouldn’t be fast enough and half a second before she was yeeted so hard into the sky that she might probably end up being the next hero visiting Ogygia, the boar stopped abruptly, falling hard on the sand, and squirming as if Ava had just been casting a cruciatus spell, like in the Harry Potter movies, and no, that's not in any way how her magic works, she was just making a Harry Potter reference.
Ava heaved fast, feeling the rush of adrenaline running through her body, and looked with bewilderment at Beatrice, who had just managed to stand up again. She expected to find the same expression on the heroine’s face, instead, what she found was what she could only describe as wrath. Her hands were tightly closed beside her body and she was facing the boar with furrowed eyebrows and darker-than-usual eyes. It didn’t take too much for Ava to conclude she was the one responsible for the creature’s screeches.
“Beatrice.” Ava said, lowly, taking a tentative step towards her, hoping to make her stop her attack now that the boar was restrained by her spell.
“Mother!” Beatrice yelled at the skies enraged, and the animal disappeared as abruptly as it had appeared.
Silence fell between both women and on the surrounding beach, almost as if Ogygia itself had felt the foreigner's presence and given them some time.
“Okay…” Ava stretched the word awkwardly. “Mommy issues it is, then.” She deadpanned.
A few things happened quickly then. Beatrice blinked her rage away, and it left her eyes so quickly it was as if it never had been there, enough to allow the heroine to explode into laughter while simultaneously falling back to the sand, holding her side with bloody hands.
A flash of Beatrice being hit by the boar to save her came back into her mind and Ava was immediately back into her healer mode.
.
The boar's attack had ripped Beatrice’s stitches and reopened her wound. As Ava worked on it again, she noticed the wound felt less receptive toward her plants and her magic. Huh, interesting.
Her patient was conscious this time and Ava was having a hard time concentrating every time Beatrice squirmed.
“Will you stop? You’re making this harder.” She exclaimed around the third time her needle missed skin.
“Oh, I’m making it harder for you? I’m sorry.” Beatrice answered through her teeth, somehow still sounding ironic.
Ava’s eyes left Beatrice’s stomach to glare at her. “I liked you better when you were all stiff postures and big words,” Ava commented. “It’s like you’ve never felt pain in your life.”
“Liar.” She murmured and Ava fought the smile she felt on her lips at how cute Beatrice sounded when distressed, her British accent more prominent. “I think mother isn’t willing to bless me when the thing that hurt me was sent by her.”
“I knew you had pain resistance and enhanced healing.” Ava said excitedly, before focusing again on her task. Just a few more stitches to go.
“Only a speckle and only for battle wounds.” Beatrice provided unpromptedly, her eyes everywhere before finding Ava’s eyes. Ava could say it was an invitation.
“Ancient Romans sometimes used boars to symbolize times of war.” Ava said, the answer already on her mind. Beatrice arched her brow, challenging Ava. “The roman goddess of war, Bellona.”
“Not a very motherly figure.” Beatrice said, as Ava spread her anti-inflammatory mix of herbs on her wound.
“Not all women were born to be mothers.” Ava defended, for no reason. She knew how hard it was to have a divine parent.
“Bellona waited until I was fourteen to claim me.” She said, after a moment, closing her eyes at the feeling of Ava’s hands. “You might know Roman gods rarely do it that way. But she waited. Until the middle of the second Titan war, after my first kill. She then proceeded to bless me,” She paused, and the way she had said those words let it clear she didn’t agree with its use. “The next time I opened my eyes, there was a trail of dozens of bodies—demigods that were serving Chronos at the war. My hands were a deep red, and there was blood on my eyes and my lips. Half-human blood. Children’s blood.” Beatrice looked at her, and Ava could all but gulp at the pain and guilt she found there. “And I didn’t remember a thing. I killed teenagers while brandishing Bellona’s symbol above my head. Two weeks after we won the war, I left to join the Hunters.”
They remained silent while Ava finished dressing Beatrice’s wound. All that time, Ava thought of the right thing to tell Beatrice. She wanted to soothe her pain. To somehow take away her sorrow, but she, better than anyone, knew that there was nothing you could tell someone in this situation that would make it better. There are regrets we just have to carry through our whole lives, be they mortal or immortal.
Instead, she let her hands roam free, and one of them found a home on Beatrice’s cheek. They stood silently sharing the moment, thinking of how similar their stories might be considered, and yet how different they were. “Thank you for telling me.” She said finally when the tension between them became inexplicably unbearable.
Beatrice nodded, a bit stiffly. “Now, you might understand the reason I am so unwilling to leave you alone on this island. Your story could have been my own. Heavens, sometimes I think I should be punished for what I did.” She shook her head, resigned.
Ava shook her head. “No, you shouldn’t, Bea. My father didn’t put me under a spell to make me fight alongside him.”
Beatrice hummed, unconvinced. “Pot-ai-toes, po-tah-toes.”
She held Beatrice's gaze for a while. “That doesn’t explain why a fucking boar attacked me, though.” She said, helping Beatrice lift herself out of her bed. Because yes, Ava had an extra room in her cave for the heroes that came to her. She just didn’t invite them in so often.
“Bellona is a proud being. Even while I’m with the Hunters she can and likes to take credit for my deeds.” She said, sitting on a chair, only a small grimace on her face expressing how painful the action was. In front of her was a mute and invisible invitation from her servants, in the form of British black tea. “I do not intend to leave you on this island, Ava.” She said, stubbornly.
Ava leaned her head, connecting the dots. “Even if it means you’ll stay here.” Half a question, half an affirmation. “And Bellona doesn’t want you locked away on a distant island while you can be there, bringing her glory, or whatever.” She finished, finally getting the whole picture. “She knows she can’t kill me, right?”
Beatrice chuckled. “It’s never stopped her from trying before. Bellona is a vicious goddess.”
Ava nodded. She knew the stories, of how Bellona had claimed the destruction of whole cities, and the demise of whole peoples, leaving nothing but fire and blood behind her. She was more bloodthirsty than Mars himself. On Bellona’s territory, Athens was a peaceful goddess. It wasn’t a coincidence the worship of the goddess involved blood and sometimes, even human sacrifice.