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

Wooly Little Lady

The flattering judgment from the three gracious maids brought color and strength into Athena's spirit. Her dainty smile never left her. The beauty, once veiled with sorrows and ill-treatment, returned. The goddess in her never left after all.

"You three had been the only people who had shown me kindness." She began as her eyes formed pearly tears on the sides. "If only I had the wealth—the power—to repay you, I could have done it the moment you had opened your arms to me."

"Oh dearie, no need to fret about us," Liene assured. "It is enough payment to see you well and living."

"Yes, dear lady. We already accepted our fate to live like this, and now, we may no longer be magical nymphs, but we must bring you to our journey of happiness, especially as we face this new life." Cloe added.

"Oh, I agree! We may now be mortals, lowly servants, to be specific, but that does not hinder us for some merriment and a chance to be jolly with our new chapter." Naida then took Athena's hand and enveloped it in her warm ones. "I may not be the wisest of all, but I can offer to you, my lady, an advice that when you face those wicked goddesses—let the anger superseded by goodness."

Athena glowed, grinning from ear to ear as she nodded to all their saccharine words. Never in her long life had she heard such enlightening sentiments. Not one ever comforted her in her years as the goddess. She had learned to keep the pain to herself and not let others be bothered by more of her anxieties.

She was perfect after all—right? Why let others know of her desolation when she could get up and be on her feet for seconds? She is the goddess of wisdom anyway—entailed since her advent was bearing the amount of knowledge in democracy and the battlefield.

"Perhaps this is the perfect time to no longer live as Pallas Athena but Athena—a humble human being who wanted nothing but to survive her numbered years." The silver-eyed maiden thought deeply. She once more faced her new-found friends, took her wine-filled cup, and beamed, "I cannot thank you enough for the goodness you have bestowed me. Let us toast for our happiness and health!"

"And toast for a better life." The three former nymphs cheered.

In no haste and calm disposition, Athena drank—taking every drop of the red wine until nothing was left. But after she put down her cup, Athena suddenly felt light-headed—stumbling on her feet and slowly losing memories that rooted deeply ever since in her mystical conception. Her sight went blank and then rapidly returned. Her pupils grew into a saucer, almost eclipsing her bright eyes that seemed to envision something she could not describe.

The sudden stillness of time felt cumbersome. As Athena continued to blankly stare at the wall, Naida drew closer—lightly tapping her shoulder, and asked, "Is there anything wrong, my lady?"

Still confused and dazed, the maiden turned to face her—setting in a mask of a placid grin as she answered, "Huh? Wrong? No—nothing is wrong."

But her lies quickly bit her.

Deep, agonizingly brutal, and poisonous—that is how the wonderstruck lady felt as the heat burned through her bloodstream, accentuating the rose on her cheeks and the cherry on her lips. Bright eyes became brighter. Something was morphing, like a caterpillar that uncomfortably twisting and turning on its cocoon.

Regardless of how she was feeling, she must not permit any worries. She had to do what was required of her—even though she could no longer remember why she was there and bedazzled for the heavens.

Once the evening commenced, a knock sounded on the door, and they all rattled to be in their best position. Cloe opened and revealed two guards who had the bearings of both authority and mystery.

"We come here to take the lady. The goddess Eris had now requested for her audience." One guard informed.

And without any more delays, the two men took Athena and exited the room.

Alarmed when they had a short glance at their lustful expression, the three servants instantly rallied and followed—even shouting at them warnings to be careful with the fair Athena. "You better get your hands off of her! And watch those eyes!" Liene yelled as the three figures ahead slowly blended with the darkness at the end of the hallway.

"May the unknown force of goodness be with her." Cloe ominously uttered.

***

"Inside!" The other guard ordered as he pushed the delicate maiden inside a dark room.

One torch illuminated the seemingly large room. The bewildered maiden wandered for a few steps and could not comprehend such an environment. Hands reached forth onto the walls and felt the frescos that seemed to depict a lady wearing a breastplate.

Some kind of assumption lighted in her head, but the idea did not further expand—distracted by a faint voice that blew into her ears, tickling her with words as sweet as the wine that invigorated her.

It enticed her—tempting her to something she could not decipher except for the words that were clear as day,

"To fair Athena—

The maiden with the aegis,

Ever gentle, ever mild—

Does one champion already take your beating heart?"

Perplexed even more, she frequently looked around to search for the whisper. Yet, the room was desolate—driven out of other amenities except for a lone table that sat forlornly right in the middle of the room.

As the maiden walked towards it, she finally saw the outline of the undecorated bowl, to which one pomegranate was lying on it. Odd—a puzzling setting to which she could not piece together.

"Red as a ruby." She mumbled breathily, sighing as she took the pomegranate into her hands.

Indeed, red as the gem on their crowns, she fiddled with the fruit with the slow degradation of the reason for its existence. More of her memories were wearingly fading into the shades, erasing the hues and lines until what was left was black and white.

Plump and round, with the underlying message quite forbidden, her fingers broke the fruit in half until its juice ran down in her hands.

With a slow stroke, she felt the seeds that wailed for her, their desire to be dead right in between her lips. They all gleamed at her, drowned by the liquid that now stained the floor. And one by one, she plucked out the seeds and answered their prayers to have their demise inside her mouth.

Sweet and slightly tart—she savored every munch of the fruit until all was gone, and what was left was its satin skin.

Once she was satisfied, her mind finally lost its light. No longer she could remember why she was there; her name, story, and the eminence she once held were nothing more but a spec that almost ceased to exist. The Athena that once dearly recognized—whether loved or feared—had now become a little girl that pranced around with her giggles resounding the blaring melancholy of the room.

She hopped and trotted, encircling the table as she sang a children's song with merry spirits and more light laughter filling the air.

Something about her youthful spirit brought forth some vibrance in the dim space. She was a sight not to be missed, a muse on a gleeful spree of planting goodness on a dire soil. Fair maiden, who no longer remembered who she was, left all her worries behind as she proceeded with her merriment.

As she danced and sang in every inch of the sparse room, the fuddled lady had discounted the sense of urgency as some pair of eyes lurked behind the deep darkness—looking at her, entertained by her naïve antic.

"You are truly beautiful when you smile." The prowler whispered yearningly.