The Gift of the Lethe

The Memories Unfold

Pallas flashes a savage grin at her sparring partner, twisting away from the girl's spear just as it sweeps into the space she had just been occupying.

"You're too slow, Athena!"

Athena grins back, dancing away from Pallas's spear as it jabs toward her stomach. "Says you! You're as slow as a snail."

Laughing, Pallas dodges Athena's next strike and retaliates, feeling a bead of sweat trickle down the back of her neck. Her strength is flagging, but she can see her partner in the same condition. They've been sparring for an hour, so evenly are they matched. They've both slowed considerably since the beginning of their dance, where they were nothing more than a blur to those watching.

Pallas sweeps her spear up, blocking Athena as she attacks. Where they had been dodging, it is now block after block, the wood of their spears slamming into each other hard enough for the two to hear the wood scream in protest. As Pallas twists to the side, a flash of gold catches her eye from Zeus' aegis as it snaps out towards the pair. Pallas almost stumbles in response, pushing her spear up in a desperate attempt to deflect Athena's blow.

Her spear doesn't make it in time, and the point of Athena's weapon cuts through the cloth side of her tunic and into her chest, burning with white-hot pain. Pallas gasps as she feels the point dig deeper, there is no possibility that it is a non-fatal blow. It will have pierced her lungs, perhaps even her heart. She stumbles backwards and the spear slides out of her with a wet sound, just as Pallas' feet give out and she collapses to the ground. Athena darts forward to catch her before her head can hit the stone, her gray eyes wild with fear and brimming with tears.

"Pallas, no! I didn't mean- Hold on, the healers are coming. Please, just stay with me."

Pallas gives Athena a shaky smile, raising a trembling hand to the girl's cheek. "It's too late, Thene."

She may be a nymph, near-immortal, but even she knows the feeling of death creeping close. Someone falls to their knees beside Pallas, pulling her into their lap. She stares up into the face of her father, his cerulean skin having gone as pale as seafoam.

"Don't you dare leave, Pallas."

Pallas coughs as blood trickles out of her wound, coating her hands with heat. It burns on her skin, growing cold as the blood flows out of her.

"I can't defy my fate, father. There's nothing you can do."

Triton sobs, pulling Pallas tighter to him, as if he can meld her body into him and save her.

"The healers will help you, Pallas."

She gives a minute shake of her head. "They can't. Not even a stasis crystal could save me." She smiles weakly. "Don't blame her for this, please. It wasn't her fault. And Thene . . ." She turns her gaze to her sobbing partner. " . . . don't blame yourself. For my sake, don't blame yourself."

Athena squeezes Pallas's numbing hand in silent reassurance, not able to bring herself to speak. Pallas let's her head slump back, curly black hair spilling across her father's lap. She can feel death, just a few moments away, seeping into the edge of her vision. She mouths something to Athena, the sound not managing to escape from where it is caught in her throat. Love you.

Athena leans over Pallas, gripping her shoulders as if sheer determination will keep her here. "What?"

Pallas just attempts one last reassuring smile as the darkness swallows her entirely. The last thing she hears is a keening wail, punctuated with a sob from Triton.

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Why do you guys think I put the sparring match in here? What did you think of how I wrote it? Tell me your thoughts!

Happy reading and I'll see you next chapter!

~ Goddess of Fate, signing out