Chapter Text
Elysium was overrated. Sure, the golden fields were beautiful and there weren't any dangers to fend off, but that was the problem. Nothing notable has happened ever since Pallas’ arrival.
After the initial shock of being stabbed to death by her best friend/crush had worn off, Pallas wandered through Elysium for a good 100 years before getting fed up with seeing the same sights every single day. She even stopped keeping track of how long she’s been dead, time doesn't have much meaning anymore.
Setting her spear down against her favorite tree, Pallas slumps gracelessly against the winding bark. She plucks a small green fruit off one of the branches, fiddling with it Idly. She’s tried eating both the green and dark purple variants before. But they were way too bitter and oily, so nowadays she just sticks to admiring their beauty.
She wonders how Athena is doing today. She’s heard stories of her accomplishments from the other nymphs that entered Elysium after her. But nothing could compare to actually talking to her.
What she would give to see the crinkle in Athena’s eyes in response to one of her particularly corny jokes. To be able to help preen her feathers after a long day of training. To just be near her and bask in her presence.
A part of her wishes she had said it, before their match. Now Athena will never know of her feelings. Though it's probably better this way. Imagine starting a relationship with someone only to stab a spear into their abdomen an hour later? At least it would be a memorable end to a relationship…
Has Athena forgotten about her?
The unwelcome thought sends a feeling of dread through Pallas. Not because of how scary that prospect is, but because of how realistic of a possibility it has become.
While she doesn't know exactly how long she’s been dead, she’s sure it's been at least a thousand years since they last spoke. The goddess of wisdom has better things to do than reminisce about a random sea nymph she used to play warrior with.
Pallas’ hands creep up her arms, gripping them tightly. Her legs fold in as if they could do anything to protect her from her traitorous thoughts. Athena wouldn't just forget her like that. They were best friends a millenia ago. Surely she was more than just a footnote in Athena’s story right? Why was she even this concerned about whether Athena remembers her or not? It's not like she’ll ever get to see her again anyway.
She’s interrupted from her spiraling when a black substance drips down onto her nose. Bringing a finger to wipe it off as best she could, she examines it curiously. The texture is viscous and sticky, like stubborn tree sap that she could never get off her clothes.
Upon further inspection she finds it’s actually a deep purple color, with small white dots scattered throughout. Weirdly reminiscent of the stars in Elysium’s night sky.
Tilting her head up to look for the source of this weird gunk was decidedly a big mistake. Because the moment she peered up the tree, a drop of the substance landed directly into her left eye.
Pallas let out a colorful array of profanities while trying to scrub the gunk out of her eye. Of course, this only made it worse. But her panic was surely justified considering how it stung like Tartarus.
When she tried to see through her left eye, she could only see a black abyss staring back.
………
Athena laid curled in her bed. Today marks the 4,576th year since Pallas’ death. The other gods knew by now to leave her alone on this particular date. Even Zeus stays out of her way. Perhaps that is his way of saying sorry. A rather pathetic one but she’ll take any grace she’s given. Not like she deserves it.
Bringing her wings to cover her crumpled form, Athena sobs into the sheets. Pallas was happy in Elysium, she was happy, she was happy, Athena should be happy for her. The goddess of wisdom shouldn't be this devastated over her best friend who died thousands of years ago. Pallas would want her to make peace with what happened. But letting go of Pallas feels like letting a part of herself die alongside the nymph, so Athena doesn't.
As long as she keeps grieving, Pallas can't be forgotten.
………
Pallas’ attempt to wash the void gunk out of her eyes is met with failure. She doesn't even remember how she got here, knee deep in the small stream near her tree. All she knows is that the stinging has intensified and she’s starting to see little white stars decorate the abyss in her left eye.
“Shit, Pallas are you okay?!”
The second she hears someone shouting from her left, her hands instinctively reach for her spear, only to come up empty. A second later she registers the “someone” as Hyacinthus, her shoulders sagging in relief. She can't see him right now, on account of her half-blind situation. But he must’ve seen her messed up eye to have reacted like that.
“What happened to your eye?!”
Yep. Definitely a good sign.
“Some weird gunk got into it. Is it that bad?” She questions wearily, her gaze locked on the small stream.
Hyacinthus nods hesitantly, a gesture Pallas could only make out from the corner of her vision.
“I’ve tried washing it off but I don't think it’s doing anything.”
“Let me try.” Hyacinthus gently cups a handful of water, pouring it over her eye. She could barely feel the water running across it, the pain has worsened into what she could only describe as searing pain coupled with persistent throbbing.
“It's not coming off.” Hyacinthus said in frustration. He tries yet again but to no avail, whatever this stuff is it’s not coming off without a fight.
“It hurts.” Pallas admits quietly.
She can hear Hyacinthus suck in a breath. Pallas rarely vocalizes her pain, so her outright saying that it hurts must mean the pain is immeasurable.
“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry!” Hyacinthus quickly removes his hands from Pallas’ face.
“Wait I didn't mean-” Pallas sighs, realizing her mistake. “You didn’t hurt me, this thing just stings like Tartarus. I can’t even feel the water going over my eye.” She gestures for him to continue.
Hyacinthus goes back to rinsing her eye, this time a bit more vigorously. “It’s okay, it’s okay, I think it's coming off actually-”
She can tell Hyacinthus is trying to ease her worries, but he’s not a very good liar. His hands tremble more with each of his attempts to wash the sap-like substance off her eye. His breathing has quickened considerably and despite that she suspects that not much air is getting into his lungs.
“I was just sitting under my favorite tree, then out of nowhere some gunk fell into my eye. It’s probably just tree sap or something.”
“Doesn't look like any sap I’ve seen before…” Hyacinthus mutters while he continues to douse Pallas’ eye in water.
After multiple failed attempts at washing the substance off, Pallas dejectedly sighs “Can you just make the pain go away, please?” Her vision hasn't improved at all and the pain was compounding fast.
Hyacinthus nods in understanding “Okay, I'll be right back”. He runs off towards the Northern hills, an area where a wide variety of herbs grow. At least, that's what Hyacinthus once told her. Plant identification has never been her strong suit.
………
Left alone with only her thoughts and the persistent pain that was determined to make itself known, Pallas continues her efforts to scrub the sap off, each attempt only making it worse. The logical side of her brain was screaming at her not to mess with the injury anymore, but she couldn't sit around and do nothing while her eye felt like it was trying to claw its way out of her head.
Without warning, a piercing pain stabs through her left eye, leaving Pallas writhing on the ground. Then another bout of pain spikes in both of her eyes, the manner of which could only be described as a spear being launched from her left eye through her skull and into her right eye.
Pallas was familiar with phantom pain. It had plagued her during her early years in Elysium, when the image of Athena’s spear lodged between her rib cage was still fresh in her mind. – Sometimes during her panic attacks, she would relive the accident, with all the pain involved. – So the sting in her right eye is probably just that, a figment of her imagination. But it felt so real, so agonizingingly real that she started to question if the sap had landed in both of her eyes or not.
When she opens her eyes – when had she even closed them? – she swears she can see white specks littering the view of her right eye as well. Though unlike in her left eye, these specks aren't fixed in place, instead swaying along with the direction of her gaze. She might have even found it cool, if it weren’t for the circumstances.
Then in the blink of an eye, they were gone.
Pallas brings a hand up to rub at her right eye. She can feel the heel of her palm push up against her eyelid but other than that, nothing. It doesn't throb violently like her left eye is currently doing.
So it was all in her head then. Pallas lets out the breath she didn't know she was holding. Picking herself up off the grass and into a sitting position. She plunges both her hands into the stream in front of her and idly begins to pick out pretty looking pebbles from the stream bed. If she had to wait for Hyacinthus to come back, she’d rather not be both in pain and bored.
The first pebble she picks up is pristine white without a single blemish on it, a stark contrast to the other rocks. She places it back into the stream with a chuckle. Wonder who that reminds her of.
The second rock is a bronze color, slightly smaller than the first one, with a crack straight through the middle. Curiosity gets the better of her and she tries to pry it open, her fingernails wedging their way in between the fracture until it finally comes apart with a loud snap. The pieces fly right out of her hands, and in her current state the simple task of getting up to look for them is too much, so she just searches for a new stone instead.
The third stone is light grey, not a very notable color. But what draws her to it is its shape, relatively flat with a sharp pointed edge; clearly it hasn't spent enough time in the stream yet. She flings it into the stream with a flourish.
The fourth pebble she picks up is light blue. Its perfectly smooth texture feels nice on her fingers. She doesn't recall ever seeing a blue pebble before, how peculiar. Maybe Elysium still has some new things for her to discover after all.
The fifth rock she finds is purple, deep purple, even. This is definitely weird, she’s never seen a purple rock before. Or has she? Maybe she came across a purple pond with purple rocks before and had just forgotten about it. Oh wait, this rock has white speckles. How could she miss that? And the white specks move? That’s nice, good to know that they're staying active.
As she’s about to pick up another rock, Pallas can feel her body slump sideways slowly. She tries to brace herself on the grass only to realize her arms aren't moving the way she needs them to. They hang uselessly against her body as her face meets the dirt with a thud.
Electricity crackles straight through her left eye and into her brain. Purple and white static creeps up the corner of her right eye until she is left with a pinhole of vision. Pallas can only lay there paralyzed as her limbs refuse to move. She tries to focus on a single blade of grass and just fight through the pain. But as the remainder of her vision is slowly consumed by the void, she can feel her last tether to the world being pulled taut. Eventually, the tether snaps and she is engulfed in darkness.