The Last Ballad of Olympus: The Waltz of the Vulture and Owl

The Third Feast, The Goddess, and The Scheme

He was confused—struck to his core by the sensation he was suddenly feeling.

"Compassion—compassion? How on earth and in heaven was I feeling pity for Athena? She is nothing but a thorn in my sight!" He told himself as he opened the door to the darkroom and ignored the curious eyes of Eris, Enyo, Deimos, and Phobos.

The goddesses raised a brow, yet none ever raised their prying notion at him. Deimos and Phobos were also the same—quiet, still, and at their best posture once their father chose to sit between them.

Ares continued internalizing for seconds until he raised his head and sternly observed everyone around him.

"Our time is running out. Where have you been?" Eris finally broke the silence.

"None of your business," Ares replied. "I just passed by Athena a while ago. That foozle is a pain on the neck!"

"Not even a dagger down her throat?" Enyo asked.

"No—I was not carrying any. Besides, this is not the time."

Enyo frowned, disappointed at what she could best describe as both stupid and a red herring. "So, when then? When would that secret harlot be killed? Our plan could no longer wait!"

"Why don't you do it then?" He pestered, plastering a smoldering grin at her. "I have not gutted her out of her secret."

"Rumors were rooted in reality. Do you have to squeeze Athena out of her secret, fa—I mean, Ares?" Phobos wondered.

Ares took a deep breath, inhaling logic, and said, "I know her secret is her prized possession. That would be her Achilles' heel."

Phobos nodded, though, in his head, he was concerned about the time wasted.

On the other hand, his brother, Deimos, did not say anything. The god was the same melancholic character, but his dark eyes wanted to say something. There were those hidden tales behind his stoic facade that might be better left unsaid nor acted.

Silence came in between them again. An agonizing nothingness as the aura shifted to curiosity and discernment at the god of war.

Nothing bothered Ares—that was what he thought. In truth, he could now clearly see the underlying failure of their plan of dethroning Zeus within the seven suns and seven moons of celebration. Athena, indeed, was an obstacle. If she was not dispossessed and out of the picture, his plan would go down, drained like a waste.

"Are we just going to remain in solitude?" Enyo spoke. "Please, Ares," She added as she went and knelt before him. "Let me take care of Athena. She might be strong, but I know I can destroy her."

Ares knotted his brows, balking from her spirits. He could read her sincerity but also understood the need for her to be with him—an offer he could not commit, even if the world would end.

The god sighed as he pulled his hands away from Enyo's grasp and faced the other direction, not wanting to see more of those transactional eyes. "No, I will deal with her." He answered. "Anyways, Deimos—have you done what I ordered?"

"Yes." The god of terror said as he handed a bag to him.

A smile manifested on Ares's face once he opened the plain wool bag. "At last! You did well!" He complimented Deimos.

The goddesses felt out of place when they saw the rudimentary understanding between the gods as they gathered at the sight of a diadem.

"What is that?" Eris asked, closely staring at the headpiece.