The grand birthday banquet slowly wound down. The nymphs of the marsh and the monsters of the Arima caverns, rubbing their round bellies, left the hall one after another, dispersing in satisfied contentment as the last notes of revelry faded away.
After bidding farewell to the sage Chiron, Samael and Tina, perhaps as a show of respect, personally escorted the Mother of Serpents back to the nearby Arima caverns.
As the figures grew smaller in the distance, Athena, a little tipsy, turned back and realized the cavern had grown spacious and quiet.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that the "Aunt Themis" who had stayed behind to keep her company had already set up a chessboard in the corner. Smiling faintly, she nodded and beckoned her over.
Athena glanced at the silent night beyond the cave's entrance, stifled a yawn, and sat down across from her. She pushed the pieces around lazily, her interest half-hearted.
"There's something I've kept from you for a long time… I think it's time I told you."
Themis moved a piece forward. Through the black veil covering her eyes, she gazed at this ill-fated child with tender affection, her voice soft.
"Let me guess—you're not about to tell me I'm not his child, or Tina's, or yours, right? I've known that since I was seven or eight."
Athena's reply was flat, her eyes already back on the board as she made her move.
Themis froze, surprised for a moment, then spoke again, her tone quieter.
"So, you've already realized it. Your real parents are—"
"Zeus, the God King, and Metis, the Goddess Queen?"
Athena advanced her piece without pause, her playful murmur slipping easily between her lips.
"…You knew all that?"
Themis, who had been carefully weighing how to reveal the truth without hurting the girl, couldn't help but be caught off guard.
The knight in Athena's hand drove deep into enemy lines. After securing its place, she propped her chin on her hand and gave the goddess of justice across from her a mischievous smile.
"Sky and sea divine authority—was that really so hard to guess?"
She glanced again at the still night outside the cavern, her lips pursing into a small, impatient huff.
"Forget it. Looks like that guy and Tina won't be back to bother us for a while. Since you went out of your way to consider my feelings… fine. Tell me about my parents. Tell me about my past. I'll listen."
Athena dropped her piece carelessly, treating what Themis thought of as a heavy and solemn matter with a startling nonchalance.
Finding herself led along by the younger goddess's pace, Themis had no choice but to recount Athena's origins with impartial, measured words.
When she finished, the Goddess of Wisdom rubbed her chin, nodded slightly, and gave a dry remark.
"Mm, pretty much what I expected. Another curse tangled up in the bloodline of the God-King… a game of chasing power, muddled with ethics and family ties?"
"So for something like this, he doesn't even dare tell me himself, and instead asks you to pass it on?"
Themis looked quietly at Athena, her face tightening into numbness.
Clearly, the Goddess of Wisdom had once again hit the mark.
Athena lifted a hand, brushing her slightly flushed cheek, her smile dreamy and teasing.
"Tsk, tsk… afraid that if I knew, I'd run off to Olympus and leave him behind?"
"Really now, he should at least have some confidence in himself."
Watching this child, whose reaction to learning about her real parents was oddly calm, who instead grumbled about her foster father while showing a faint, almost mischievous delight, Themis felt her thoughts scatter.
"You truly care so little about your own parents? Zeus's malice is real, yes, but your mother, Metis… at least she loved you—"
Athena rolled her eyes, cutting her off without hesitation.
"Loved me? And yet, when it came down to me or my father, she chose him."
"Reality is reality. Why wrap it up in sentiment?"
With those words, Athena ripped open wounds long buried under time's dust. Themis could only fall silent.
Perhaps Zeus and Metis had some affection for her as parents—but in the end, they loved themselves more. For their own ambitions, a child's worth was negligible.
Noticing the sorrow and dimness in Themis's eyes, Athena paused, rubbed her wine-warmed cheeks, and spoke more gently.
"All right… my father, my mother—by blood, yes, they shaped me. And before chasing her own happiness, that Queen of the Gods did give me a mother's care. I won't deny any of that."
"But that's all it was."
The Goddess of Wisdom raised her pale index finger before Themis, wagging it lightly. Her eyes glimmered as she murmured in reflection.
"Samael likes to nag, but a few of his words fit perfectly here."
"He fathered me, then saw me as a threat and cast me aside. Between me and the Olympus God-King, we're square at best. As long as he leaves me alone, I won't bother with him either."
"She bore me, raised and taught me, but gave up her duties as a mother because of forces she couldn't resist. At most, I'll repay that kindness one day—free her from her chains. If need be, I'll risk this life and return the body she gave me. Of course, only if she herself wishes to be free."
"But the one with no blood tie at all… he raised me, taught me, cared for my joys and sorrows every day, tucked me in at night, remembered my birthday every year, and always stepped in to smooth over fights with the others..."
Athena counted off each memory on her fingers, her eyes shining with a strange, growing light.
At last, the Goddess of Wisdom looked up with a smile, her voice filled with quiet wonder.
"In a Greece where fathers kill sons and brothers betray each other, you could scour the whole world and still struggle to find a better parent. I'd say I'm rather lucky."
Themis remained silent. Athena, after a pause, stroked her cheek and recalled the danger earlier that day. Her lips curved faintly as she whispered.
"Honestly, even if he had used me as a bargaining chip today—really thrown me to Zeus—I'd have no reason to hate him..."
"But instead, he chose to take the risk himself, to shield me without hesitation."
"So tell me—how could I ever repay a foster father like that?"
Themis thought for a while, frowned, and fell into silence. Finally, she gave a helpless, wry smile, unable to offer an answer.
"Mmhm, I don't know either. Guess I'll think about it later!"
Athena propped her chin in her hand, a radiant smile blossoming across her face.
Then, after glancing once more at the silent night beyond the cave entrance, her listless gaze drifted back to Themis. Her lips curled into a sly grin.
"One last thing, Aunt Themis..."
She leaned forward slightly, her body tilting toward the Goddess of Justice, and whispered softly in her ear.
"He'd rather send you to risk yourself negotiating with Olympus than reveal me at all..."
"Doesn't that mean I matter more to him than you do?"