Athena, Goddess of Wisdom and War. Patron of Athens. Strategist of Olympus. The titles felt like heavy, golden weights anchored to her essence, even here, in this strange, vibrant exile.
Never, in all the ages she had observed mortal ambition, had she anticipated being drawn into an unknown world by a human who did not even understand where he stood. The indignity of it was a cold spark in her chest, but her mind—ever the tactician—forced the emotion aside.
She allowed herself a slow, measured survey of her surroundings.
The forest pulsed with vitality. Ancient trees towered like pillars of a forgotten temple, their roots braided into thick, serpentine networks beneath the soil. The air hummed with life—small creatures darting beneath ferns, insects weaving through shafts of fractured sunlight, distant predators moving with patient hunger.
Life everywhere. And beneath that life—Predation.
She felt it immediately. It was a prickle at the back of her neck, a sour note in the forest's symphony. Several presences lingered at the edge of her perception, their intent sharp and focused. This was not curiosity, nor was it territorial instinct. This was pure Killing intent directed at her and at the boy.
Did he know? She watched the way his shadow stretched long and thin against the moss.
She studied him from the corner of her eye.
Aleric stood upright now, looking better after that creature managed to contain his power but a faint haze still clung to his awareness. His stance lacked certainty. His breathing remained uneven, each gasp a reminder of how close he had come to tearing himself apart. His hand hovered near the hilt of his sword now—not out of readiness, but instinctive fear.
He did not sense them. Or if he did, he lacked the experience to interpret the threat.
Did he even understand what he had summoned? Or had he reached blindly into a power he could not name?
She exhaled softly through her nose, the sound a sharp contrast to the humid silence of the woods. First thing is first, she needs information.
"Sofia."
The golden owl shifted instantly upon her shoulder, feathers rustling with disciplined precision. The bird's talons gripped the bronze of her pauldron, a familiar, grounding weight.
"Yes, mistress?" The voice was a melodic chime in Athena's mind.
"Fly above the canopy. Survey the area. Try to locate signs of human life—smoke, agriculture, maintained or used roads. Identify all hostile presences between here and those markers."
A brief pause.
"I need to know whats out there."
Sofia's eyes gleamed with sharp intelligence. "As you command."
With a powerful sweep of her wings, the owl launched skyward, spiraling through beams of gold and green until she vanished beyond the treeline. Athena felt the momentary void where the bird had been, a small loneliness she quickly suppressed.
Athena's gaze returned to the mortal. Now—What to do with him.
"Aleric."
He straightened reflexively, almost flinching. The movement was pathetic, yet there was a spark of something—resilience, perhaps—in the way he forced his shoulders back.
"Yes?"
"Do you possess any knowledge of this region? The general geography? Who rules these lands? Anything that could help us situate ourselves?"
He blinked, his brow furrowed in a way that made him look painfully young. "Oh—uh. No. Sorry. I have no idea where we are. I woke up here maybe thirty minutes ago and didn't get the chance to look around."
Her eyes narrowed slightly. "You woke up here?"
"Yes." A pause. "I was sent here before I could ask for basic information about anything."
"You do not know where you are… yet you stand armored in the middle of a forest."
Aleric hesitated. The pause did not escape her. She saw the way his throat moved as he swallowed, the way his eyes darted toward the trees as if looking for an escape.
"You said you arrived without any information?" she pressed. "Explain."
He swallowed again. She felt the shift in his heartbeat. She could imagine his fear. Not of the forest but of her.
Interesting. A mortal who feared the truth more than the blade.
He exhaled slowly, clenching his fists in an attempt to regain his composure. "Athena… I don't know where we are because as you already figured out I'm not from this world."
Her expression remained unchanged, but her attention sharpened like a spear-point leveled at his chest.
He continued. "I came from Earth. The world from which your mythology originated."
That earned him her full focus. The word "mythology" tasted like ash. To be a story in the mind of a mortal was a unique kind of blasphemy.
"I died," he said bluntly. "An angel made a mistake. The Biblical God… felt responsible or what ever that means."
The air grew still. The very leaves seemed to stop their rustling, as if the forest itself was holding its breath.
"He sent me here with one chosen ability."
Athena's eyes sharpened to a cutting edge. "And that ability?"
Aleric met her gaze, bracing himself as if expecting a physical blow. "To summon."
Silence.
"To summon permanent companions, the strongest beings I could reach."
The forest temperature shifted. A sudden, unnatural chill swept through the clearing.
"And here you are."
Absolute stillness descended. The kind of stillness that precedes a mountain collapsing.
Then—The air ignited.
"What?"
The word did not echo. It pressed. It was a physical weight that flattened the grass.
"What did you just say?"
The ground beneath her feet fractured. Wind exploded outward in a violent ring, scattering leaves and dust. Her fury was a sun, bright and blinding, refusing to be contained by the canopy.
"SOME FOREIGN DEITY GRANTED YOU, A MORTAL, THE POWER TO DRAG GODS FROM THEIR PANTHEONS?!"
Her aura erupted. Even sealed by the world and limited to a fraction of her true power. That fraction overwhelmed the environment instantly.
The temperature spiked. The air thickened into a crushing pressure. Aleric dropped to his knees, his face contorted in a mask of pure agony.
His lungs seized. His bones screamed beneath the invisible weight. His vision darkened at the edges. He looked like a moth caught in a furnace.
This was not anger. This was pure outrage.
How dare some external god interfere with Olympus? How dare a mortal reach upward without understanding the magnitude of what he was grasping?
The pressure intensified. Cracks splintered across nearby roots. Aleric felt himself slipping, his consciousness fraying like a rope under too much tension.
Instinctively, he reached inward—Not for power but for their connection.
The summoning link flared between them. Their minds brushed, raw and unfiltered. She felt his terror, yes, but also his desperate, echoing loneliness. He forced the thought through the link binding them.
Athena! Stop—please!
The words did not pass through the air. They struck directly against her consciousness, vibrating with the frequency of his very soul.
Athena froze. The pressure halted mid‑surge. Her awareness turned inward.
Yes. There it was. She felt it, their connection. She felt his intent without him saying a word. She could also feel his regret in summoning her. She could feel it was not intentional and that he was just as surprised as her when she came to this realm. It was not by choice but by happenstance.
An important distinction. She was a summon; but not a slave.
Slowly—The crushing weight receded. The forest exhaled. Aleric collapsed forward, gasping desperately for air, his forehead resting against the dirt he had nearly been crushed into.
Athena remained standing. Still furious. But now controlled.
"Athena," he coughed, the sound wet and ragged. "I know you're angry. I understand. I never would have thought I'd ever summon an actual goddess. Unfortunately, what's done is done."
He forced himself upright and bowed deeply. He did not do so theatrically but to prove his sincerity. It was the bow of a man who knew he messed up, but refused to be broken.
"I admit," she said coldly, her voice like ice cracking on a lake, "it is illogical of me to assign total blame to you."
Her gaze sharpened. "However, you are still a weak mortal."
her words were direct. Unvarnished. She watched for his reaction, looking for the pride that usually led men to their graves.
"I am a goddess. My existence carries consequences. If you were to die, what becomes of me? Am I severed from Olympus? Will I be erased or will I be trapped here for eternity?"
Her tone shifted gradually from rage to calculation. "There are too many unknown variables."
She studied him carefully. "It would be unwise for me to trust in your abilities fully."
Aleric inhaled slowly. She was right. He was weak. Fragile. Mortal. But as he lifted his head, the fear in his eyes had been replaced by a hard, crystalline determination.
"Yes. I'm weak." No denial. "I never had strength or power. Not before and not now."
His fists trembled, the leather of his gloves creaking. "In my previous life, all I had was intelligence. I was scrawny. I was poor. My life consisted of receiving beat downs, getting extorted and being isolated."
He swallowed, the memory of a thousand small humiliations rising in his throat. "I never had strength. Never had love. Never had presence."
His eyes burned now with something sharper than pride. "But I now have this second chance."
The well inside him pulsed faintly in response, a low thrumming that vibrated in the air between them. "I refuse to live the same life again."
He stepped forward, closing the distance between the two of them.
"You say I'm weak? Then help me become strong."
"You say I'm mortal? Then help me transcend it."
He exhaled slowly. "You felt it. The well inside me isn't finite."
It was true. She could feel it. It felt boundless. Endless even. It was a terrifying amount of fuel for such a small lamp.
"But my body can't handle it." He clenched his jaw. "It's like having an ocean forced through a drainage pipe."
Athena observed him. He wasn't groveling. There was no arrogance in his words either. When she looked in his eyes, all she could see was resolve. It was the kind of resolve she had seen in heroes of old—the ones who changed the maps of the world.
She turned inward. Yes. The well within him was real. He had limitless power but the vessel was crude. If refined, he could have infinite potential.
Her irritation began to change into a cold, sharp interest.
"You seek strength," she said at last. "Not comfort but to become better than your past self."
She stepped closer. This time, the air did not shudder. "You acknowledge your weakness without disguising it. You are honest with yourself. That is acceptable."
Her gaze hardened. "Understand this, Aleric. I will not serve as an ornament. Nor will I tolerate incompetence."
A measured pause. "But you possess something rare."
"A resolve strong enough that you wont be blinded by delusions."
She straightened fully, her bronze armor catching a stray beam of light and turning it into a halo. "If you pursue strength, you will do so properly."
"You will train your body. You will temper your mind. You will learn restraint and you will not pull on your power like a starving animal."
Her eyes locked onto his. "If ascending beyond mortality is possible in this world, it will be achieved through discipline, not desperation."
Silence lingered, thick and heavy with the weight of a pact.
Then— "I agree to guide you."
There was no submission in her tone, this was her deciding to invest in his future self.
"You will earn the right to stand beside me."
The dynamic shifted. It was no longer goddess and mortal and no longer merely a summoner and a summon.
A calculated alliance had begun. And Athena, Goddess of Wisdom and War, had made her first strategic decision in this foreign realm.
She would see what this fragile mortal could become. And Aleric Saint, for the first time in two lives, felt like he was finally standing on solid ground.