Her strong will was blossoming, countering those brown eyes that wanted to inhale all vigor from her silver orbs.
Athena refused to bend down to Enyo's lust for greed. Despite aching from her hold, she bid not to succumb to it but instead turned it into a ground which she could revive some strength and credence.
"You can believe what you want to believe, Enyo. But once the high heavens will dispose of one's desire, your fate is nothing." Athena asserted, still had her eyes intently locked into Enyo's brown ones.
The goddess unhanded her grips from her cheeks, leaving crimson that lined the maiden's ivory skin. She raised her head and glowered at her, exhaling her ultimatum like a judge sentencing someone to a crime. "I am a goddess, Athena. My destiny lies alone in my hands. In my own hands," She emphasized.
"Keep that faith—one might know such determination could cause one's downfall."
"You better bite that tongue of yours! Anubis, Gorgo—tie this tramp to that pillar," she demanded while pointing to the first column. "And make sure that it is tight."
"Yes, Your Grace." The men said.
"Come now, little lady," Purred Anubis, "to the pillar."
Before the men could have their hands on her, Athena thrust them away and took Gorgo's sword—displaying them a hostile disposition and outraged from the injustices she was sentenced to.
"Enough of this nonsense! One step, and I will not second guess to fight you."
"One thing is for sure, my dear," Anubis said as he playfully teased the tip of the sword, "I do get excited for a woman who shows no fear—especially if that woman had a face of springtime and eyes like the stars in the sky. My, my, my, what a delight!"
And like a hungry predator, Anubis pounced on her, fruitfully relinquishing Gorgo's sword. But the fair prisoner would never raise her white flag for them. Athena's pride rose high as the star he insisted as the metaphor for her eyes.
"You thought of this?" Anubis maniacally smiled.
"Who would want to bend down to such people as yourselves?" Athena retorted, provoked by disgust and pure loathes. "And a word—anything of excess could never gain satisfaction if one's head desired only of avarice."
"Oh, hush that mouth of yours!" Startlingly, Gorgo appeared behind her and immediately locked her in his arms.
Sadly, this time, hounded by brutes like a fox, Athena lost the battle.
"Enough of this! Anubis, Gorgo—do my bid, now!" Enyo demanded, pointing again to the column where she desired Athena to be bound. "Let us see if you are still going to retort back, Athena."
Before Athena could comprehend, Anubis and Gorgo dragged her away and violently tossed her to the pillar, hitting her whole body like a sack of wheat.
Blood dripped out from her nose once Athena held a hand to her face. She was mortified—angry as well to the uncalled ordeal.
"Ah, don't look us like that, my dear," Gorgo said. "A frowny face does not suit you."
"Indeed. The goddess of wisdom, from the sculptures, had this commanding beauty. This one—" Anubis grabbed her chin, forcing their pitiful little jailbird to gaze into his lust-filled eyes. "Oh, what a mournful situation." As if every torch inside the room were dwindling its light and warmth, Anubis slowly threatened Athena with a kiss on her lips—yet instead, he spat at her.
Athena shrieked in terror while the two brutes laughed. Enyo gloried more at the insult unfolding before her like a play conducted by the fools and the downtrodden.
Immediately, the two men mercilessly tied Athena—facing her to the plain pillar with her back towards them.
Hands and feet were incapacitated—a swine on a stick, a prisoner on a burning bronze minotaur. She was the actor in an upcoming tragedy that would soon add to the chapter of misery and despair.
"A lovely scene this is," Enyo commented. "Now, we shall call for Eris and everyone else before we unveil the show for this coming twilight. Go, my men, and make sure everyone receives an invitation."
Anubis and Gorgo bowed and left after the order was given.
Now, alone with her most hated being, Enyo laughed—screeching through every corner of the wall as if she had won a war. Athena's ear rang in a thin line, an agonizing note that none should ever hear. Oh, how the goddess of war's hatred towards her disclosed through an ominous momentum.
Without seeing her face, Enyo's presence—as she circled—was enough to make the poor maiden's running blood go cold. Concealing her disgrace, Athena could feel constraint—fearing for what might happen to her, knowing what she knew now that her part of the heart of Hellas was powdered into non-existence.
After keenly inspecting the inhumane scene, the goddess's cold fingers ran down on the chained maiden's fair back—chuckling along, hoping to provoke fear in her. "You are indeed beautiful, Athena. I remember how Paris was finding it quite difficult between you, Hera, and Aphrodite on who to have the golden apple. Maybe if you were Hellen—not only a thousand ships would launch, but the whole garrison of the land would be battling to have you back. That would be hard."
"Such tales you have in mind, Enyo." Athena firmly stated, hiding the tremble that manifested in her larynx.
"But let us be honest, that is a possibility. If that tale of mine happened, the result would be a disaster." Enyo drew closer, closing an inch to her ears, and whispered hoarsely, "Your beauty is both a blessing and a curse. You are immune to love, but many men desire you. When you were a goddess, did you wonder how many of those who knelt before you secretly wished to kneel between your legs?"
Athena shoved away, not wanting to hear more nor probed for its underlying context. Her mouth quivered as she secured it to prevent any responses to such wicked ideas.
"Ha! Ha! It is true, oh dear, Athena. I know many men who desired such licentious hopes. When those murmurs about you and Erichthonius reached the mortal lands, several men felt betrayed by you. Some even prayed more to have a chance to father your next offspring."
"Keep my son's name away from your mouth!"
"Talk all you want, my dear. The stage is mine now." The goddess smiled. "And I will be certain that you will not live peacefully for the rest of your mortal life. I will make sure that some monster will defile you, chained you until you submit to him like a lost withering puppy."
Athena wanted her to stop, but Enyo's torments seemed louder than the white noise that hovered on them like a box. She closed her eyes, thinking that all would be well after, but the hope she carried was only of a child who wished for a fairytale life to avoid the gruesome reality.
"Imagine—Athena, a once well-loved goddess, has now become some lunatic's wife with a growing belly carrying a bastard that forever will carry her ruined legacy."
Not a word from her. Instead, Athena violently shook her shackles in protest of her vile statement.
She had enough.
Those insults should not be uttered in any mouth, whether addressed to a divine or a person. She had enough of these assertions from the moment her fingertips cursed any wicked folk.
Her soul became vulnerable—a weakling indeed.
But despite the struggle, Athena was willing to destroy Enyo there and then the moment she included her son in her slander. But the torment was rightfully agonizing. The more she fought against the chains' strength, the more pain and constraint she was.
Her determination was too late to gain escape and justice against that scandalmongering.