Now, back in her private paradise—goddess Athena tried to calm herself down as she stared at the wound, still oozing with blood, that panged like those sharp poisoned arrows.
"He shall be punished." She cursed heavily as her cheeks grew brighter in red. "I cannot let him be a victor to this disgrace! You will be on your knees, Ares."
Once her cloudy thoughts were cleared, Athena instantly remembered the knife she held—feeling the strong gild ornamented on its shaft. The embedded pain from Ares's bite panged even more as she hardened. The goddess was about to rage, but she quickly subsided—doing her best not to cause a commotion knowing that Nocturna was still asleep.
"He is an idiot!" She grunted.
To forget what happened, Athena cleaned her wound, wrapped it with a clean cloth, and gathered her tools as she decided to let her mind lose on weaving.
"Purple and gold—yes, those are the perfect shade. Oh! And maybe a little silver for a shine." Athena said as she scoured her threads, neatly organized in their designated cabinet.
***
"I just noticed that Athena and Artemis were nowhere to be found since yesterday." Aphrodite realized.
"Well, Artemis is surely in her lair," A centaur said, "With Athena, probably in Athens."
"They both agreed with the celebration."
"Let them be, Aphrodite," Hermes added. "You know that both of them valued their isolation sacredly. Remember when I dragged Artemis?"
Aphrodite laughed, ringing the ballroom with her sweet voice. "Oh, yes! I remember it clearly. I remember her arrows almost hit your head." She flippantly recollected.
"Ha! Ha! Good thing I was fast enough to escape from it."
"But Athena usually stayed in her chamber. When I snuck last night, she was not there—so was Nocturna!"
"Perhaps she is mourning her—"
Aphrodite put a finger in front of her mouth, signing him to be sure with his words. "Hush!" she jabbered.
"What?" Hermes questioned in a whispering tone. "Everyone knows that her demeanor changed ever since the king of Athens died. She is slowly proving the rumors about her being the mother of Erichthonius were true. He was a good king: wise, admirable—a genius! It should not be questioned that Athena, indeed, was his mother."
Aphrodite's lip stiffened. Deep in her core, she knew she was guilty of believing the same idle talk about Athena and Erichthonius's relationship. But at the moment, knowing that it only remained as talks along the winds, she chose to defend Athena. "Those were just rumors, Hermes. Athena vowed chastity for eternity, and I believe her. She is one of the beauties who is immune to my shenanigans."
Hermes sighed and did not bother to argue with her. With the goddess's mesmerizing stares while defending Athena, he knew well that his body reacted like a loose man. Admittingly, the wine was also taking over his senses.
The god of forge and blacksmithing, Hephaestus, sat far from them and heard everything they said. He was anxious if the gods were trying to insult his son. Instead, it was the same tittle-tattle about Athena's relations and her virginity.
He felt guilty and sad for her. A wise goddess, also very courageous and democratic, was repeatedly stabbed by her equals all because she chose to raise the child in secret and far from their ascendancy. He wanted to speak out, but his nerves curled into a ball, especially at the range of Aphrodite.
"Someday—" He muttered as he sipped his wine. "Someday, the truth will be out."
***
A band of beaded sweat formed on her forehead. Her silver eyes were shadowed by concentration, and her brows bridged at the middle, trying not to look away at the details of her oeuvre.
Her white and candle-like fingers danced with the threads of her loom. The sparkling gold and silver illuminated amongst the dark plum while her eyes glittered at the scene unfolding before her.
As she never broke her focus, Athena began mumbling poetic words—telling the winds her heart could only honestly share.
"I see, I see
The dark sea that sleeps beyond.
I see the beauty of its quiet glitters,
I see the colors that gave the heart its purpose.
I hear the winds calling,
I hear the song of my soul telling hopes
To those who were crying.
I feel my whole body being different—
Different, for I was feeling three heartbeats in echo.
Three heartbeats that sang in unison."
Athena abruptly ended her soliloquy as her vision suddenly turned misty. She was in a dream. Her head was spinning like her reality was shifting to a different perspective. The cut from Ares's knife was bleeding profusely that it soiled the cloth in pure red. Her hands were trembling. She also noticed her fingers bleeding, with cuts that came out of nowhere.
"Wha—what?" She faltered. Appalled by what just happened. "How co—could this be?"
She could not articulate the words to say. She was shaken, and her eyes began to form tears. Something in her was cumulating that she could not understand.
The goddess was petrified all of a sudden. She could not move like her feet were plastered onto where she sat. Her breasts hardened—every part of it was in pain and inflamed. As she traversed her hands down, she panicked as she noticed her stomach now swelling.
Her gasp was loud—in disbelief at the touch of her stomach.
Mindlessly caressing her belly, she could even feel the life breathing inside. "How can it be?" She was bawling that her silver eyes were drowned.
Life is beautiful. Life is more precious than the countless coins produced and the jewels offered to her. However, Athena could not comprehend what was going on. She questioned more and more how she could bear a child with no union. Her thoughts were convoluted to the point that she broke down, covered her face with her bloodied hands, and let all tears wash away her confusion.
The poor goddess turned small. She once was so proud of her bearing and might that she cursed herself, ashamed of her sudden weakness. Were her sorrows slowly eating her? Was her grief made her into a fool? A laughingstock? As of now, the goddess of wisdom chose to be the goddess of pearly tears, not wanting any comfort from anyone.
Darkness almost enveloped her like a distant nimbus coming forth with his rapid winds and rain. She was still—immobile in her position.
Athena remained like a statue for a minute—until a knock from the door awakened her from her illusion.
"Huh?" She was breathily relieved and in awe.
The blood from her hands was gone as if nothing happened. The bandage cloth was clean, there were no cuts on her finger, and surprisingly, her weave was almost half finished. She knew not how it came to be—a beautiful pregnant woman dancing on a field of flowers was depicted on her canvas.
"Oh, I—I did not know I was almost done with my—" Before she could end her sentence, the anonymous outside her door knocked again. "Come in!" She finally responded.
As the door opened, it revealed that it was Aphrodite beaming a sunny smile at her.
Athena painted a forced one on her lips, still recovering from her hallucinations. "Go—good afternoon, Aphrodite."
"Thank goodness you are here!" She gleefully squealed like an excited little girl. "I have something for you, my sweet."
"Oh—" Athena then noticed the pearlescent dress on the goddess of love's hand that glimmered in colors of rose, gold, lilac, and blue under the rays of the late sunshine. "Come in." She invited her.
"Thank you," Aphrodite enthusiastically responded as she entered Athena's private suite. "I cannot wait to give this to you!"