Teaching

The council had dissolved into the night, voices fading down Olympus’ marble corridors, sandals echoing against stone. The torches burned low, throwing long shadows across the gilded columns. Lily lingered at the edge of the chamber, clutching her notes tight against her chest. She thought - hoped - that she could slip away unseen.

“A word, Calliope.”

The voice was cool and steady. Athena stepped from the shadows, her robe dark and flowing, her eyes sharp as the blade at her hip. She did not raise her voice. She never needed to.

Lily halted, spine stiffening. “Of course,” she said quickly, dipping her head. Her throat felt dry.

They moved into a quieter passage, away from the noise of departing gods. The air here was cooler, the marble floor gleaming in the torchlight. Athena walked with purpose, her steps sure. Lily followed half a pace behind, her pulse loud in her ears.

“You revealed too much,” Athena said flatly. Her gaze slid sideways, sharp and unyielding. “You snapped when they challenged you. You hesitated when they pressed. The council will seize on both.”

Lily flushed hot. “I...I spoke what I thought was true.”

Athena’s mouth curved, not into a smile, but into something knowing. “Truth is only one weapon. Timing, control, and restraint, those are others. A weapon dropped too soon is worse than useless.”

Lily bit the inside of her cheek. She hated how much the words struck home. “I only wanted them to listen.”

“They listened,” Athena said evenly. “And they watched. You burn bright, child. But bright things attract notice, and not always the kind you want.”

Lily lowered her gaze, shame pooling in her chest. “Sometimes I feel as though I don’t belong in those chambers. As though my words weigh less than theirs.”

Athena stopped walking. The stillness in her figure was precise, deliberate. “Then make them weigh more. Not through volume. Through precision. Make them see that your words cut deeper than their noise.”

Lily lifted her eyes, cautious. “Do you…believe I can?”

For a moment, Athena said nothing. Her eyes searched Lily’s face, unreadable as the stars above the city. Then, finally, she inclined her head. “You are the daughter of Memory. The chief goddess of the Muses. More than that, you are yourself. Yes, I believe you can hold your place.”

The words settled in Lily’s chest, heavy and fragile at once. She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Thank you.”

Athena’s expression did not soften, but her tone carried a weight Lily could almost mistake for care. “Do not mistake kindness for softness. I will guide you, but I will not shield you. You must stand. Alone, if it comes to that.”

Lily bowed her head, more respect than defeat. “I understand.”

Athena turned as if to leave, then paused. Her eyes narrowed, assessing. “And one more thing - whatever is passing between you and Ares, be certain it serves you, not him. He is useful, but dangerous. Do not forget that.”

Lily stiffened, her heart jerking in her chest. “There is nothing...” she began, too quickly, the lie burning her tongue.

“Spare me your deflections, Lily.” Athena’s tone was calm, but probing. “I can see he circles you. I know what he wants. What I do not know,” her gaze sharpened, “is whether he already has it.”

Lily’s cheeks burned hot. The memory of Ares’ nearness, the heat of his breath, the way his magic curled against hers, flashed unwanted through her mind. She forced her voice steady. She gave a faint shrug, eyes sliding away. 

“I think you give me too much credit.” Her voice was light, almost dismissive, as though the very idea were absurd.

Athena’s eyes held hers, unyielding. Lily’s stomach twisted, but she kept her expression smooth, feigning nonchalance while a bead of sweat slid down her spine though the corridor was cool.

“Perhaps,” Athena said slowly. “But he walks a perilous path. Whatever he seeks, it is not a place for you. Be mindful not to lose yourself in his orbit.”

Lily’s pulse thudded. She thought of Ares’ hand brushing hers, the dangerous pull in her chest whenever he was near. She swallowed hard, lifting her chin. “I will not be used.”

Athena studied her for a long beat, expression unreadable. For once, there was the faintest edge of uncertainty in her gaze, as though even she could not divine the truth. Finally, she inclined her head. "See that you are not."

Her voice softened, though the steel remained. "Do not mistake me, Ares is my brother, and I love him. He is not the villain others make him to be. But he is dangerous, as all of us are. What I want, for Olympus, for him, and for you, is for the two of you to endure these trials unscathed. To come through them still immortal, still whole. That is the outcome I will fight for."

Lily’s throat tightened at the rare admission. Athena loved him. For all her warnings, for all her sharp edges, she wanted them both to survive. Lily dipped her head, voice quiet but steady. “Then I will fight for that too.”

Her steps resumed, already carrying her down the corridor. "Hold fast to your resolve, Lily. Whatever comes, keep yourself whole."

Lily remained in the silence after she had gone, her notes pressed hard against her chest. Her pulse had steadied, her shame tempered into something sharper, but beneath it, a flicker of guilt and heat still lingered. Resolve wrapped around it, fragile but real. The torches flickered above her, and she stood a moment longer before turning back into the night, her shoulders squared, her mind burning with Athena’s words.