Series: Willow Winters
Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 94417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Athena rises to her feet, holding her shield as if it weighs nothing. Her thick brunette hair spills down her back, held away from her face by a few gold pins. She plants her feet on the dais and looks Zeus in the eye. Her boots are made of a thick leather fit for war and the plate on her gold chest is as well. It is then her owl swoops down to join her, landing on her shoulder gracefully as he drops her Grecian helmet into her hand.
“If you will not aid me, it will take longer, and more lives will be lost.”
I peek up at the dais to see my father raising his eyebrows at Athena. “That is not a problem for me now, is it? The dead are for the Underworld, and they are welcome there.”
“You speak of war, sister?” Aprhodite says, arranging her skirts around her feet. She has lighter hair than Athena, beautiful blonde locks and more delicate features with striking blue eyes. They mirror one another in many ways, such as the shape of their chin, but they differ in others. Aphrodite’s eyes are a deeper blue than Athena’s and they grow darker still.
Althena only attends to our father, “I will return to Sparta, then.”
Aphrodite gives her sister a bit of a smirk.
“Perhaps I’ll meet you there,” Athena answers Aphrodite’s expression with a statement that seemingly dares her to meet on the battlefield. Her tone is not threatening, and Aphrodite only smiles. There is a saying that when the Gods play, mortals die. Athena is known as the Goddess of right and wrong, but there is so much gray in all the realms. Aphrodite has found beauty in darkness, and Athena knows it. The two of them, when paired together, are unstoppable, and a force no one could dare to tame. Yet, at times, they are at odds. Such as when beauty is being judged. For the Gods have egos just as mortals do.
“I dare say you should.” Athena’s smile widens. “You to Athens and I to Sparta?” she offers, a flash in her light eyes. I can feel the power in the room heighten. The deep pull in my stomach as every hair seems to pull on end. The tension comes in waves. It’s an undeniable force in the air.
Lightning clashes above our heads, a flash of bright white aids the loud bang that silences the room. “Enough!”
Zeus holds up a hand, and both of the sisters look to him as if nothing has happened. As if war is merely an outing for them. A reunion of sorts.
“My daughter of life,” my father says. I jerk back from the doorway, realizing too late that he has seen me standing here, listening. My heart stops although his tone is welcoming, as if I am a blessing amongst the irritation my powerful siblings have brought him. Perhaps he does not know. “Join us, my dear.”
He beckons for me, and I force myself to move in through the doorway as a servant comes in from the opposite doorward with a silver tray. There are drinks for all of Zeus’s daughters. Our goblets heavy on the tray. Owls for Athena, shells for Aphrodite and blooming roses for myself. I step up next to Athena and Aphrodite and take mine, my hands shaking. My father is the last one to accept a drink from the tray. He looks at me as he lifts it into the air.
“Cheers to the balance of the world and to those who keep it,” he offers, and all three of us accept. My chalice is a brighter silver than the ones my sisters are holding, as if newly crafted, and I wonder if that is on purpose. It must be. Nothing my father does is without a purpose.
I lift the chalice to my lips and drink the divine wine. It is a sweetness mortals will never know, and I will not know again. My heart beats painfully at the taste. This may be my last toasting with my family. There is no such thing as perfect wine in the land of the mortals. They will never know everlasting life. They will never know the luxuriousness of true divinity. It is sweetness beyond sweetness, something completely pure that could never be created by mortals. It could only be gifted to them by the gods.
I try to hold on to my feeling of belonging, thin as it is, for a few moments more.
“What brings you to my presence?” my father asks me. “Not war, I would hope.” He glances at both Aphrodite and Athena as he says this and the room darkens with the tension. They slip on innocent expressions, but as soon as Zeus looks away, Aphrodite smiles again. They are always at their games. Athena and Aphrodite will never tire of wars and battles and mortal arguments, and they will never run out of time to challenge each other. My sisters are true goddesses.