Fingers. Pointing fingers were upon the goddess of wisdom like a mob that wanted to burn her effigy. This was not Athens at war. She was not in her harbor waiting for the incoming enemy that wanted to sack and destroy her beloved state.
But dear Athena was at the ball—the third night.
"I know the whispers." She began. "I know all the murmurs and things said about me and my son. I was in denial and chose not to deal with it. But I guess the mask is now off." After calming her nerves, the goddess—with piercing stares—pointed at Eris, "But dare to say one more about my virginity! Never had I slept with any man! Not once and will never break my oath of everlasting chastity."
Despite pouring her heart with her explanation, some were still clinging to doubt, especially Eris, who just chortled at her notion.
"It is true!" Aphrodite then stepped in to defend the goddess from the hot waters. "Athena told the truth. She shared with me about her son. Her virtue was still intact."
Weighing on with the circumstance, Hephaestus moved to Aphrodite's side and waited for the air to go clear. And when those rambling whispers were hushed, he spoke, "Athena did not sleep with any man to have Erichthonius. I-I—forgive me for this tale, but I forced myself upon her once upon a time. I was titillated and almost deflowered the goddess—though in good grace, she slipped out from my erotic rage. According to her recount: my seed, which latched onto her thigh, was then thrown down to the earth and impregnated it. Days later, there was Erichthonius.
I was his whole flesh and blood, and Athena wholeheartedly took the part of being his mother. Along with the former king of Athens and his daughter, Erichthonius found a home there. Athena never left him. She was there—she was a good mother and even insisted on me taking part in it.
I owe Athena an immense apology and honor to have spent many moments with my son. I felt guilty—down to my very core, but Athena showed mercy and displayed formidable diplomacy in our difficult situation. Though little compared to the life of a deity, my son was privileged enough to have met and bonded with his father."
Silence. Everyone was dumbfounded by the realization that the timely rumor was now shattered with the truth from the goddess of wisdom herself.
No more questions asked.
But with her chaotic morals, Eris maniacally laughed at the statements. She tried all belittling, wanting to convince the majority that all were lies. "You think you can pull that trick, Athena?"
"It was no trick, Eris!" Aphrodite exclaimed, annoyed at her countenance.
"Oh, really, Aphrodite? Do you want to be on the higher morale now? I see that you and your unfortunate husband have been teaming up. I guess that is how guilt could choke you."
"Watch your mo—" And before Hephaestus could attack the wrathful goddess, Zeus meddled with the galled party and halted the assault.
"Enough!" He commanded.
Of his thunderous voice and omnipotent stature, everyone complied and never said more. Zeus then went over to Athena, with his eyes all focused on her—studying her temperament broodingly.
"So, coming from you. You are indeed the mother of the eminent Athenian king." He mentioned.
"Yes." Athena nodded. "I am indeed the mother of the king, Sire." She openly confirmed as she displayed reverence before the king of the gods.
However, instead of uttering scrutiny like the others, Zeus smiled at her. There was no judgment, no menacing disposition—the king of Olympus was well-pleased of her antic.
"If that is the case, based on the testimonies of Hephaestus and Aphrodite, you did well, Athena."
Surprised, Athena raised her head to him, eyeing him with an innocent stare. "You mean—"
"Not a thing in my fibers that is against you for raising the boy far from Olympus. It was your choice and thought on his behalf. Erichthonius grew to become one of the greatest kings to have ever walked on Hellas." Zeus gladly honored as he placed a warm hand on Athena's shoulder. "Look at how he had raised the bar high on your land. Though he was a unique character, especially with his metamorphosis from human to a hybrid, Erichthonius still regarded his compassion to his fellowmen—whether pleased or not with him. Not to mention that he was always in a reminder to honor us."
A glow lit up on her face. Athena became more radiant—more beautiful, especially when she curved her cherry lips from the gratitude her soul felt for the almighty god's compliments. "Thank you." She gracefully said as she bowed again.
"Truly a rebel you are, Athena," Hera spoke as she went beside her husband. "Despite rumors and poisonous phrases embedded in your name, you prevailed. Your son thrived and had placed himself on the pedestal among the great heroes."
Athena bowed again before the queen and said, "Appreciated the salutations, dear queen. True enough that Erichthonius had proven himself to be a good man. He may have had difficulty accepting his difference when he was young, but as seasons changed and time ran forth, he soon overcame those insecurities. I pleaded for forgiveness for giving him that power—making him the known half man, half serpent—but he forgave me and saw it more as a gift."
"And he made it to history because of it," Hera added, beaming a delicate grin at her.
Zeus then held Athena's hands, took her out from everyone's focus, and in a low voice, he ordered, "Come—I shall gift you something from bearing all of these prying whispers and slanders." Once Athena complied, he then faced the wondering crowds and announced, "To the garden!"
In a snap, all, who were inside the ballroom, hurried towards the vast Olympian garden.
However, Eris, Phobos, and Deimos remained as they observed the crowds animated by what might unfold after the stormy stir from the last minute.
The three were a loom of gloom and doom—
A trio of domineering nimbuses that could not be persuaded with mere pleas and prayers. Their minds were in despair, infuriated—more so with Eris, knowing that Ares's plan to lure Athena to her death failed…
A nightmare to their wishful thinking.
A more tragic case was that Ares suddenly vanished without saying anything to them. Perhaps after everyone had vacated the grand hall, the god of war exited like a criminal in hiding.
"What was supposed to be her last night had become a night dedicated to her!" Eris grunted. Clenching her teeth as she congealed in rage.
"What can we do? Zeus stepped in. Besides, we cannot act spontaneously, or Ares will burn the whole room." Deimos recapped her while staring at the closed door of the ballroom.
"If we do not act, then when? This is already another mishap!"
"Have you seen how Ares looked at her?" Phobos emphasized. "I do not know what it is. I mean, the god was doing what we had planned, but then—he faltered."
Eris knew what Phobos meant, remembering Enyo's worrying observation moments ago. The goddesses had a spur time talking about Ares's countenance towards Athena but then brushed it off as a mask to convince the unsuspecting goddess of his intention—though deep within their thoughts, they knew something was wrong.
The once dreary aura of the garden began to fade as many guests flocked from the enclosed feast; the moon smiled even more, bringing a brighter light upon the deities.
At the grand pavilion, Zeus, Hera, and Athena stood as the others gathered around them.
After everyone settled, the god-king said before them, "This very night—the third night of the celebration, a luminescent star will be born.
Athena looked at him, perplexed by what he just declared. "A star?" She whispered in her confusion.
And without dwelling on more lingering questions, the almighty Zeus then raised a hand towards the high heavens and commanded it to bid to his will.
From the substantial power that occurred: the earth trembled, the wind blew maddingly from hither-tither, and the great heaven began to open, revealing the hidden stars that refused to showcase on that night. Flashes of dancing lights followed as the god's eyes glowed. Rolling thunderbolts flared, even crashing something down onto the mortal plains.
Some nymphs were screaming from the phenomenon while others hid for safety.
But as it presumed, an unimaginable booming sound and a bright light roared upon them—an event that almost turned them either blind or deaf.
From that showcase of force, a constellation was born, glittering on the velvet sky.
A charioteer. Erichthonius, the king, was immortalized along with the other great heroes and beings.
Everyone's mouth gaped, in awe with the spectacle—captivated to the point that the stress they had gained was instantly forgotten. Yet compared to them, Athena was more enchanted. Sincerely in still silence as she gazed upon the heaven that now bore the image of her dearly beloved.
"Goodness me, my boy!" Athena cheekily pointed as her eyes reddened and swelled from the overwhelming appreciation for the gift. "Oh, the stars even reflected his strong bearing! Oh, how similar indeed he was to Hephaestus." She childishly mumbled as the tears now soaked her lovely face.
Zeus and Hera chuckled.
"Thank you, Sire—Thank you! This is the best blessing ever bestowed upon me. Even to Hephaestus. It surely warmed our hearts."
"He deserved to be in that position, Athena. Your son brought glory." Zeus reasoned as he smiled.
"Exactly. The late king had proven himself worthy." Hera concluded.
Twinkling in brilliance, the constellation of the charioteer stared down upon those entranced by his beauty. As her silver eyes continued to be enamored by the new cluster of stars, Athena could hear the voice of Erichthonius carefully blowing to her ear, "I love you, mama. Thank you." And by that, she fully wept, ignoring those who stared and tittle-tattled at her recent disposition.