Pale Eyes

by James Welsh

The gods were just about to sit down to their meal in the chamber when Hebe ran in and hastily said, “Everyone! I wish to announce that Athena is…”

  “There’s no need for that, Hebe,” Athena said, walking in behind the servant, her hand on Hebe’s shoulder. The servant nodded obediently and moved to the side, unseen, unheard. The Olympians all looked up, with some confused, others annoyed. Ares, especially, was frustrated: not only had he not anything to eat that entire morning, but he also felt the old suspicions rising inside of him. What’s Athena doing now? Is this just another step for her plan? It took all that Ares had not to demand anything from Athena. Instead, he pretended to look at her, confused, like everyone else had.

  Athena felt slightly out-of-breath – she had flown as fast as her owl wings could carry her, all the way from Hephaestus’ workshop to Mount Olympus. She had flown that distance before, easily, but not nearly that quickly. Still, she had no time to catch her breath – maybe later she could.

  “Everyone,” Athena began, her face sweaty but her voice solid. “I’m here with news that will shock you all.”

  “Well, go on then,” Hera said, not trying to be helpful.

  Athena glared at Hera for a moment before turning to the rest of the gods and goddesses. “I’m here to announce that Zeus walks amongst us once more.”

  The gods looked at her confused, then surprised, then exhilarated. “What?” Artemis squeaked, everything about her seeming out-of-character at that moment.

  “I’ve met with the Fates, and they…”

  “This is already quite a story!” Ares scoffed, remembering that he had a voice. “You really expect us to believe that you found the Fates? I’ve yet to meet someone who has met them...”

  “No!” Athena snapped, her eyes vicious. “You don’t get to tell me what I believe in, brother. And as your queen, I want more respect than what you’re giving me right now. I never saw you interrupt Zeus before, so why are you stopping me?”

  “Let her speak!” Apollo scolded his brother, his eyes glimmering. He turned back to Athena, and he asked, “How did you bring back our father?”

  “I, um, I forced the truth out of the Fates,” Athena said, skipping over a few facts, such as how she had threatened to kill one of the witches. “They told me that I found my birth in Zeus’ death, and he would find his birth in my death.”

  “What? That makes no sense,” Aphrodite said.

  “It does! It does,” Athena said quickly. And so she told them of how she went to Hephaestus, how she had convinced her crippled brother to break her skull and release the spirit of Zeus. She added, with a bit of triumph in her voice, “We thought these past few days that our father, our king, was dead. But he’s been with us this entire time. See, as long as I live, he lives – as long as he lives, I do too. We share the same life because we share the same mind.”

  When she finished, she realized she had many of the gods convinced, even the always-skeptical Hera. Yet Ares leaned back in his chair, his arms folded in front of him, with that snarl of his on his face. Athena smiled thinly. “I see you don’t believe me, brother.”

  The other gods looked at Ares, curious as to what his objections were now. The god of war sneered. “How can we believe anything you say?”

  He looked intently at the other gods seated at the long table and asked them all, “How can any of you believe her? She killed my father, after all! She killed him, she took his throne, and she expects us to believe she has done the impossible? That she has resurrected someone? If any of you believe her, then I’m afraid I’ve respected you too much then.”

  Shaking with anger, Athena said, “You have to believe me. Zeus may not be here with me right now, but only because…”

  “Then how can we believe you?” Ares demanded. “How can we believe that Zeus is alive if he isn’t here right now?”

  There was a blinding bolt of light that coursed around the room. The gods cried out and shielded their eyes from the light. The flash lasted just a few seconds before dimming quickly – when Athena rubbed her eyes and looked, she saw Apollo having pushed Ares against the wall, pinning his arms useless by his side.

  “Brother, I want you to understand something,” Ares said, perhaps being too calm. “Our sister just doesn’t want to speak – she needs to speak. And I will be damned if you interrupt her one more time. There’s something going on here, something much larger than you, me, or anyone else in this room. And so you will be quiet, you will listen to all of the facts, and then, and only then, can you accuse our sister of lying.”

  Ares laughed, humorlessly. “What are you going to do? What could you do to me actually? Would you use that sun of yours and give me sunburn, hmm? Maybe a heatstroke…”

  And that was when all of them heard it. It began as a low rumble, so deep in sound that it sounded like the gurgling of a faraway creek. But, the noise quickly grew, and as it became louder, each of them realized there was more than one note to the sound.

  “What’s that?” A red-eyed Demeter asked, frightened that someone would be able to answer her.

  But there was silence, as each of the gods and goddesses began to understand the noise. Hera heard what sounded like her wheezing, but she wasn’t, at least she wasn’t then. She heard what sounded like words, but she couldn’t make them out through the wheezing and the horrible hacking, spitting breath. She looked around at the others and asked, in almost a pleading voice, “Did anyone hear that? What were the words? Someone tell me, please.”

  She looked to her son, Apollo, but the god said nothing. He was too distracted by the beautiful voice whispering in his ear, singing lullabies, begging him to come closer and never leave. Apollo flinched as the sweet voice vanished and he heard the sound of flesh being torn. He knew that sound all too well. On his long walks through the woods in winter, he could hear the wolves driven mad by starvation, the wild dogs clawing and ripping apart any poor deer that they saw.

  Apollo didn’t know it, but Artemis heard similar sounds, of flesh being ripped apart, of bones breaking like sticks. Through the sounds of the carnage, she could barely hear swords swinging, arrows flying, people screaming for mercy. Both Demeter and Ares heard the roar of battle as if they had stepped inside of thunder. Ares felt an odd thrill fill him as he heard the familiar sound. But Demeter, the goddess of life and the growing of life, was terrified by the sounds, and she shrank into her chair as best as she could. And all Aphrodite heard was the symphony of gasps and screams and, oddly enough, a baby crying.

  While the gods twisted and shook their heads and clawed at their hair, Athena was the only one of the immortals not to move. She stood, as still and beautiful as any statue, because she heard a sound too. She had never heard the noise before, and she didn’t know what to make of it. It sounded like someone was singing a song to her – she recognized the melody, but she couldn’t figure out the lyrics. Whoever was singing to her did so with a dialect of Greek that she had never heard before. And the voice sounded rough yet calm, like lazy currents carrying a shipwrecked sailor home. And her singer was close, so close that it almost felt as if he was inside of her head. But when Athena looked around, there was no one standing next to her.

  “That sound!” Hera called out, startling all of the gods, who were still trapped in their trance. “I know what it means.”

  “What?” Demeter demanded.

  “Death is coming,” Hera breathed. “Is it true, Athena? That’s what you’ve come here to warn us about? I remember the stories my mother used to tell me when I was younger, much younger. She said that when we heard the sounds of doom, sounds that no one else could hear, that meant that death was coming. That’s why when our father ate us, I was not afraid – I was brave because I didn’t hear the sounds. But it’s coming now, isn’t it? Death is coming?”

  Athena nodded. “My father told me what he had seen and heard in the Underworld. He saw a massive army of shades
gathering on the shores of the Styx. He also heard the whispering of mutiny. He believed that a war was coming – and what we heard, just now, may have been the trumpets of battle.”

  Some of the Olympians groaned, and the others sobbed. Ares called out over the commotion, “So what do we do then, our queen?”

  “First, I am not your queen, not anymore,” Athena replied. “I gave that honor back the moment Zeus returned to this world. Second, my father and I have already decided our strategy. He will fight our Uncle Hades, alone. None of us must help him, else we will lose everything.”

  “Why not?” A voice demanded. Athena couldn’t name the voice in the thick crowd.

  “Zeus is our general, and so he is the most powerful of us. Hades is the Lord of Death, and I’m afraid of the things he could do if he captures any one of us.”

  “But Zeus fighting by himself, the numbers aren’t fair!” The voice called out. Athena recognized the voice as belonging to Artemis.

  “None of this is fair. I wish we could help Zeus somehow, but we’re needed elsewhere. If what our father says is true, then an army of the dead is gathering, forces more powerful than anything the world has ever seen. Father and I believe that Hades will scour the world with the army of shades, while he himself will capture Olympus.”

  “That would be foolish!” Ares snapped. “What general splits his forces? If Hades is as clever as I think he is, he will invade this mountain with his army. When he does that, I’m sure he’ll move on to the rest of the world. But to think that Hades will split his army is ridiculous!”

  “It’s ridiculous, but it will happen,” a quiet voice said from behind Athena. The softness of the voice somehow rang out over the arguments echoing in the chamber. Athena turned and looked, and so did everyone else, and they saw Persephone standing in the doorway, looking braver than she ever did.

  “My daughter! My beautiful daughter!” Demeter cried out, ecstatic to see her daughter returned. Demeter pushed past through the crowd of gods to embrace her daughter. As they hugged, Athena noticed that Demeter was much more thrilled than Persephone, who only hugged her mother out of necessity. Athena silently swore at Persephone, wishing that the girl had stayed hidden in her room like commanded. If Demeter had assumed that Persephone was still in Hades’ grasp, there was no telling what might the goddess could have mustered. Demeter could have commanded every living, breathing thing in the world to fight for her, simply to bring back her daughter. But now, with mother reunited with daughter, what incentives did Demeter have left?

  Persephone hugged her mother for only a few moments before pulling herself away and saying to the crowd, “Athena is right. I’ve seen and heard much more than Zeus has. I’ve been with Hades much longer than any of you have. He thinks he’s doing this for the right reasons, but I’ve seen through him. He’s doing this for him, because he feels that you all have insulted him. He’s the most selfish creature I’ve ever met, a being that won’t give anything unless he’s given more back. I don’t doubt that he’ll split his forces. He wants to be the first and only one to climb this mountain. He wants to say that he brought down Mount Olympus all by himself. Trust me.”

  Athena paused, to let the other gods take in that information. Then she demanded, “Tell me you’re convinced now. Tell me that you will trust Zeus to stop Hades. Tell me that you will help me stop the army of the shades. If we don’t stop those shades, the entire world will be plunged into a never-ending winter of ash and night. All hope will be lost, and when hope is lost, the people will go with it. And do you know what will happen when those people die? Those people give us strength through their prayers, their sacrifices fill our cups with ambrosia. The moment they die, we will vanish! I am absolutely certain of that. I know that few of you trust me – you don’t have to hide it anymore, because you can’t. I can see it in your eyes, how you think I’m a part of this conspiracy. It’s possible I am! If Hades could become such a monster, then what could stop the rest of us from following that path? But do you know why you should trust me? It’s because I trust you – all of you – at this very moment. I may not have trusted you before, and I may not trust you in the future if we survive this. But I’m here, right now, asking for your help, because I know you all are the only ones who can defeat death. I know that together, we can push back Hades and his army. But I also know that if we’re separate, if we continue not trusting each other, we’ll have to sit and watch as Hades brings the entire world down to rubble. So trust me, because I trust you.”

  There was a silence in the air. The gods looked at one another hesitatingly. They had spent too long fighting one another, so long that they didn’t know what peace was like. They didn’t want to become a true family and fight together, even if it was for one battle, even if it was to save their way of life. But while they were filled with hatred, none of them were stupid. They all knew the consequences of doing nothing, of letting Hades destroy the world without a fight. The Olympians had to make their peace with one another if they wanted to preserve themselves. By this point, though, none of them wanted to take the first step – none of them wanted to be the first to say what it was they were all thinking.

  Then, Artemis stepped bravely forward. She looked Athena in the eyes and said resolutely, “I’ll fight by your side, Athena.”

  The other gods were once more surprised by something that Artemis did. She was the same goddess who was afraid of doing anything unless her mother and her brother said she could. But they were too surprised to restrain the goddess. Then, Apollo remembered his place as protector of his sister. Not wanting to see Artemis hurt in the battle, the god of the sun stepped forward too and said, “I’ll fight by your side.”

  Then Hera stepped forward. Then Aphrodite. Then Ares. Then Persephone, quickly followed by a nervous Demeter. The gods and goddesses stood in a line in front of Athena, staring at the goddess, expecting their next orders.

  Athena swelled with pride at the rare sight. She cleared her throat and said, “Okay, here’s what we need to do. And we need to hurry while doing it. If we can hear Hades’ army, then they can see us.”