Athena stepped out of her portal onto the hilltop that overlooked the flood plains before Troy. She transformed into her human likeness, collapsed into the grass, and created a simple knife to begin prying the bits of shrapnel from her legs. The iron had thoroughly burned the surrounding flesh, preventing it from healing, so Athena not only pulled the bits of metal out, she scraped away the blackened meat inside the wounds so that they could heal properly. The task was made all the more difficult by the fact that the iron continued to burn any part of her it touched, including her fingertips.
It wasn’t a pleasant way to stop and catch one’s breath, but she needed the pause. She looked around at the landscape left by the war she’d started. In the distance, a red light glowed on the western horizon, and dark clouds began to fill the sky. The Constellar Palace was gone, obliterated from the summit of Mt. Olympus so dramatically and thoroughly that the explosion had surely been visible from Troy. The thick black electrostatically charged debris clouds pouring from the ruins would likely darken the skies over the Mediterranean for years.
Closer at hand, Troy and its surrounding lands had been much diminished by the war – buildings had been leveled, fields burned, people enslaved - and now with the red glow of Olympus burning in the West, it looked like the apocalypse had truly come.
Once the humans knew that Olympus had fallen, the Trojans would likely celebrate the destruction of Hera’s seat of power. The Achaeans, however, had wanted to return home for years now, and the sight of unfathomable disaster in their homeland would motivate them to do so more than ever. If Agamemnon could hold them together long enough for Odysseus to follow through with their plan, though, a Trojan celebration might play out in their favor. The only real barrier remaining would be Aphrodite. Through the charismatic Trojan prince, Paris, she’d dug into Troy like a tick. She’d grown considerably in strength, and with her twin brother, Zeus, gone, she’d now have no one restraining her.
Adresteia descended gracefully from the darkened sky in her owl form and changed into her human guise to talk to her fellow goddess.
“What the hell happened?!” Adresteia asked.
“My plan went sideways,” Athena said.
“Went sideways? After over twenty years of work, it went ‘sideways?”
“Zeus has been weakened and banished to the ends of the Earth, and Hera and Poseidon are both dead. Unfortunately, so too are Apollo and Artemis. Hephaestus abandoned me and Hestia destroyed the palace. They have fled, as have Demeter and probably Hermes. I assume Aphrodite is still here?”
“Yes, of course.”
“And Dionysus?”
“Still using Apollo’s temple as a brothel. Oh, and any injury you inflict on him now seems to be purely cosmetic. He's essentially unkillable.”
“Of course he is,” Athena rubbed the bridge of her nose.
“There’s more,” Adresteia said, “Hector died, but the Achaeans and the Trojans managed a truce because of it. A suspension of hostilities for one week, but then Dionysus sent a group of Trojan soldiers to attack the Greeks, and now Achilles is dead, and there’s no hope at all for peace.”
Athena studied the set of Adresteia’s jaw for a moment, “You're wondering whether I'm responsible for that, aren’t you?”
“Look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t put him up to it.”
“Most people, gods or mortals, would be offended that you would even ask such a thing,” Athena said, “But I guess among all the sacrifices I’ve made to meet my ends, my good faith with you was among the first.”
“Did you tell Zeus where I was?” Adresteia asked, “You were keeping tabs on me afterward; were you doing so before?”
“Aphrodite told you. Of course she did. Yes,” Athena confessed, “My father, King of Olympus, asked me to find his rogue goddess, and I traded the information for a favor from Heracles. The favor I eventually used to send Heracles to his death, as I’m sure you’ll recall.”
“Why?”
“Zeus would have found you eventually with or without my help. Because I helped him, though, it ultimately cost him his favorite son.”
“Is that all?” Adresteia asked.
“Are my aims ever that simple?” Athena asked, “I also knew that a rogue goddess running around Greece was a major x variable in my plans. There are countless powerful beings outside of Olympus, but you? The child of Kronos and Nyx, carrying your mother’s legacy? I needed to ensure there would be no reconciliation between you and Zeus, so I gave him the opportunity to burn that bridge permanently.”
“You said we were friends,” Adresteia said.
“We weren’t back then,” Athena said honestly, “And afterward, well, ask Odysseus what he thinks of my friendship, sometime.”
“Did you ruin the truce between Greece and Troy? To continue the war?”
“No, that was not me,” Athena said, “The war existed only to put as many gods as possible in one place, and to sap Poseidon’s power. Any further violence serves no greater good.”
“Then why put Odysseus up to his little project?”
“There must still be a victor, and I owe it to the Greeks to see that it is they who prevail,” Athena sighed, “I had such hopes, Adresteia. A new pantheon, built on the virtues of wisdom, knowledge, creativity, spirituality, bravery, and justice. Gods who would guide humanity not through overt and dramatic abuses of the natural world, but through education, leadership, and insight. Instead of summoning plagues to ravage the population, they would have shared the secrets of medicine. Instead of calling down storms to water fields and flood cities, they would have taught the humans about irrigation and meteorology. Art and music would have been the language of the gods, instead of brutality and carnage. But that hope is gone now. Now there are only a few of us left in Greece.”
“Are you considering sparing Aphrodite?” Adresteia thought, perhaps, that Athena had had her fill of violence, and was considering a truce with the goddess of love.
“No, certainly not. But without Apollo and Hephaestus to rein in Dionysus, we may have to dispose of him as well.”
“I think it’s past time to do so.”
“I think you’re right,” Athena said, “But not, however, until after we’ve taken the city. We need him to enchant the horse. Assuming it’s been built?”
“Odysseus had trouble finishing it and Agamemnon may not be able to hold onto the army long enough to use it,” Adresteia said, “too many of the Greeks took the destruction in the west to be a sign that they must return home. But, it is finished, nonetheless. Largely thanks to Menelaus, who has no intention of leaving Helen.”
“Good,” Athena said, “The waters are already returning now that Poseidon is dead. The Greek fleet – what remains of it – will be seaworthy within a few hours. Of course, with Poseidon gone, you and I could simply transport the Greek soldiers into Troy ourselves,” Athena played with the bracelet that allowed her to travel instantly from place to place.
“At that rate, we could just assault Troy ourselves,” Adresteia said, “Take Aphrodite, and force her to release Helen from her curse.”
“True,” Athena said, “But I said long ago that we gods needed to keep our meddling in mortals’ lives subtle, discrete. I don’t think breaking down the gates of Troy and cutting our way through the Trojan army qualifies. No, we must assist the Achaeans with their subterfuge, and let history remember this as their victory. Are we still allies, then?”
“For now,” Adresteia said, “I have promises to keep, and right now I need you in order to do so.”
“In that case, I need you to fly into Troy and keep an eye on the city. Find Aphrodite, if you can, and keep tabs on her. Once Troy begins to fall she’ll be vulnerable, and then you will be in a position to confront her. In the meantime, I will secure Dionysus’s assistance with the horse.”
“And afterwards?”
“I’ll help you end him, if you ask, or you can hunt him down at your leisure.”
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