Chapter 6 #2
Trying to quell her anxiety, she slid her few belongings into a worn leather satchel and paused when her hand closed around the Achaean short sword Nik had given her.
Promise you’ll get the answers you need and then come back to us.
There were still many answers waiting, but she was no longer lost. She had endured, changed, and learned. It was time to return.
She knelt on the furs of her makeshift bed and pulled out the felt-wrapped shape hidden beneath the layers—her mother’s necklace. Many nights she had lain awake, fingers tracing its familiar curves, her Gifted eyes picking out every intricate detail even in the dark.
It was more than a link to her mother. It reminded her of Leukos.
A familiar ache tightened in her chest. No matter how many bruises she earned sparring with Phoebe, the ache never dulled.
She’d tried to bury it, but when the world quieted at night, his absence roared. When she closed her eyes, it was his face she saw.
She missed him so, so much.
He’d come to her again in a dream the night before.
Not as the man who’d protected her, but as a boy, barefoot, alone, and kneeling on a beach as the tide surged around him.
Alena had never seen the sea, yet her mind conjured it vividly: mountainous waves rearing high, ready to crash and swallow him whole.
Leukos’ eyes were shut tight, lips moving in silent, desperate prayer. In his hands, he held a statue carved of driftwood, depicting a stern man with a beard and trident.
The Sea God.
Far off, a woman sprinted along the shore, arms outstretched, screaming for him—her voice lost in the roar of the sea.
Alena had woken gasping, drenched in sweat, her pulse thudding in her ears.
Was it only a dream? Or something more? A memory that wasn’t hers? It had been so vivid, so sharp, as if she’d stood on that beach herself.
Blinking hard, she tucked the torc back into her satchel.
Outside, a slate-grey sky greeted her, casting a sombre mood over the surrounding peaks. The snow was beautiful yet desolate, the valley below hidden in a curtain of mist.
Waiting for Phoebe, she stamped her feet against the cold. The journey ahead would take at least two days, if all went well. But she was ready. Her muscles were sore but strong, honed by Phoebe’s relentless drills. She was no longer the girl who’d first climbed the mountain.
A voice broke through the quiet.
“Alena.”
She turned, expecting Phoebe, but found the Grey-Eyed Maiden perched on a boulder. As the first rays of sunlight broke through the clouds, they cast a pale, ethereal light over the goddess, sharpening the flawless angles of her face.
Alena’s breath caught. There was a terrible, inhuman stillness to her beauty, and she suddenly understood why so many Achaeans had worshipped her and killed in her name.
The Maiden said nothing, but the air around them thickened with unspoken tension.
Something was wrong.
“What is it?” Alena asked, her satchel slipping from her shoulder to the ground. She stepped closer, heart thudding. “What happened?”
“The Emperor has been moving against me since we last spoke.” The goddess stood perfectly still, hands clenched at her sides. Her dark eyes churned with barely contained fury. “Destroying the last of my temples. Hunting down my priestesses. He is trying to weaken my power.”
Alena’s pulse spiked. “Why?”
“Because he knows I am helping the Omega. He knows you are coming for him.”
A chill slid down Alena’s spine. “How does he know?”
The Maiden turned her gaze west, towards Rasenna, her dark curls spilling over her fur mantle.
“His High Priest has the Gift of foresight. He has seen my presence here. The Emperor will keep sending men until he finds my priestesses. He means to kill them and diminish my power further. We have lingered here too long.”
Behind her, the camp stirred, the air taut with urgency. Priestesses hurried to stack bundles outside the stone shelters. Goats bleated as they were herded towards the central pen.
The Maiden descended from the boulder with fluid grace, her cloak’s hem whispering against stone. She crossed to Alena and placed a warm hand on her cheek.
“We will meet again, daughter of Kallinos.” Her tone softened, reassuring. “Remember—the Mother Goddess chose you. Do not let any mortal forget who you are. You are the Omega, and no matter the circumstances, you must prevail.”
Alena nodded, though the weight of what lay ahead dulled her urgency to leave. The path forward was suddenly shadowed with uncertainty.
“I cannot Gift you in this moment. My magic is needed to protect Tiryns,” the Maiden continued. “But should you ever need my help, send me a prayer, and I will do what I can. I will be watching.”
Overhead, a golden eagle screamed across the thinning clouds. Sunlight flooded the mountainside all at once, warming the snow-crusted stone.
It was time to leave.
And yet, one question still pressed against her ribs—a question that had haunted her since their first meeting.
“I have one more thing to ask, if you’ll allow it.”
The Maiden nodded, her expression unreadable.
“It’s about my sister, Katell.” Alena hesitated, then forced out the words she’d practised countless times in the dead of night.
“I tried to help her. I tried to save her from Dalmatius and the legion, but she wouldn’t listen.
Is there anything you can do? If you went to her, surely you could bring her to our side. ”
For the first time, a flicker of shadow crossed the goddess’ flawless face. “I tried to reach her once, in Bruna, but it was too late. Her mind was made up.”
Alena shook her head, her voice tightening. “No. It’s not too late. There must be something we can do.”
The Maiden paused, her gaze softening as if weighing her next words. “She has made her choice, Alena. And if you fight her again now, she could kill you.”
Alena’s breath caught.
No.
They hadn’t spoken in over half a year, but that didn’t mean Katell was lost. She couldn’t be. She had made herself a promise, and she would keep it: she would bring Katell back—no matter what it took.
The goddess offered her a rueful smile, eyes shimmering with something like regret, then turned towards the camp.
“Please.” The plea tore from Alena’s throat. “You have to try again. Make her see reason. She’s Kallinos’ daughter, too!”
A sharp wind surged through the mountains, flinging snow into the air. Alena flinched, raising her arm to shield her face.
Through the roar of the gale, the Maiden’s voice cut clear— cold and final.
“Kallinos is not her father.”
The words struck like a blow. Alena stumbled back, her thoughts scattering in a tangle of disbelief.
Not her father.
The phrase echoed in her skull, hollow and deafening. Her hands trembled. A pit yawned open in her chest, swallowing every certainty she’d clung to.
The wind whipped harder, mirroring the turmoil inside her. Tears stung her eyes.
She turned, searching for the goddess—desperate for an explanation, for anything.
But the clearing was empty.
The Maiden was gone.