#temieri

And when this man inevitably reached out for that black stone - for her - Athena reached back. Just a touch completed the embrace, and the Heart of Sabik swallowed them both in loving, umbral black.

–

The moment Athena staggered into that glimmering river of souls that was the Underworld, the body that housed her collapsed like a doll with its strings cut. 

A few mental prods from Athena determined that, for the moment, this vessel would no longer obey her because it simply could not. How inconvenient. It was clear its capacity had atrophied over the eons without her hand to mold it. But it certainly was the one she had made, had pulled from her own body like a rib or a bit of organ.

No matter. She just needed a little more clay for it to hold her essence and bend to her will, and such clay existed in abundance in the river all around her.

The Heart of Sabik anchored her against the pull of the Underworld when she left the protective confines of her mortal anchor. Drawing upon the Heart’s power made an easy task of pulling enough aether to stitch together a temporary body of her own.

And how good it was to be able to move of her own volition once more, to finally again wield the masterful tools she needed–her own two hands. Athena lifted them, stretched her reach unto the heavens as she flexed and curled in her fingers one by one.

She had never been one for idleness.

– 

Athena flicked through the memories of her vessel-to-be. It called itself Claudien and was a researcher of somewhere called Sharlayan, but what mattered was that his recollections were tremulous and easily overwritten–a pale moon to her radiant sun. No need to potentially harm the integrity of the body by purging it of memory and will; Athena could merely etch herself overtop them. 

Behind Athena, the aether shifted, trembled, and settled. 

“Yes?” Athena said, tilting Claudien’s chin up as it started to droop. His eyes were half-open and his pupils were subtly trying - and failing - to bring the world into focus. 

“Athena,” her visitor said. “I have delivered your message, as you bade.”

“And more besides, hm?” she replied, tucking some of Claudien’s hair behind his ear. “I have been open and honest in my intentions from the very start. There was no need to play the harbinger–just the herald.”

“You did not forbid me from doing otherwise,” Themis observed.

Athena smiled into her vessel’s vacant face. “No, I did not. Precise work requires a delicate touch. Something as uninspired and brutish as attempting to bludgeon you into full compliance would have been a waste of time and energy for us both.”

She began to circle behind the vessel, her fingertips brushing one shoulder. “It is important to give a caged concept sufficient freedom for it not to test its leash—or, ideally, for it not to be aware one is even ‘round its neck.” 

A shadow fell over Themis’s face. “A technique you have employed on those around you, and on Erichthonios in particular.”

It wasn’t quite a glare, that look her displeased accomplice gave her, but it was close enough to spark a small thrill for Athena. Every little tell was information she could potentially use, each little give in his expression possible leverage in the future. She cataloged it all. 

“Forgive my bluntness, Athena, but his life is his own, and not yours to do with as you please–to say nothing of Claudien.”

Athena smiled condescendingly, as she would at a naive child. “I created Erichthonios. I suffered the agonies of childbirth to bring him into this world. It is my right.”

“He has his own soul, his own mind.”

“And? As shapers of this star, we tinker with such things all the time.” Athena appraised Themis archly. “You are not ignorant of this—and if you were, your journey through Elpis on the way to Pandaemonium should have enlightened you.” 

She returned her attention to her vessel, adjusting his posture - the set of his shoulders, the turn of his head - with brisk little movements. “Erichthonios would have become reliant on you. A dull, clumsy, witless burden. And here I am, willing to relieve you of him.” 

Themis fairly bristled with reproach. “Never was he a burden. Erichthonios deserved naught less than to be free from the shackles of his own self-doubt - a self-doubt you fostered and let fester - and allowed to live his own life.”

“Shackles. What a curious word choice,” Athena purred back, her blue eyes as cold as a frozen sea. “I knew his heart, I knew his soul. A few encouraging words, a tincture of your aether, and you were well on your way to undoing the influence I had over him. But he was still far too meek to divulge his feelings.”

It reminded Athena of a dagger’s blade cleanly separating meat from bone, the way Themis’s lips parted. He looked startled. For the supposed embodiment of the star’s neutrality, he could be read quite easily, and Athena pursued the opportunity as a hound would a hare. 

She snaked one arm across her surrogate vessel’s chest, placing her hand just above the left pectoral. “Such a fire you lit in his breast. Right here,” she tapped over its heart, dimpling the white fabric, “I could feel it. He would’ve done anything for you, and had no small attachment to that ‘familiar’ as well.” 

Athena rested her head on the vessel’s shoulder. “He was beginning to hunger for your praise, your presence, your smile over mine.” Her lips pulled back in contempt. “Witless fool.”

Themis said nothing. His lips were set back in a firm line.

Athena sighed and lifted her head from the vessel’s shoulder. 

“I could not allow that to continue, you understand,” she said. “A few whispers that surely he would be rejected were he to speak his feelings were sufficient.” 

Ah, and there it was–another waver in Themis’s face, too fast to solidly identify with any certainty except that it was most assuredly vulnerable. With the luxury of time, she would have picked it apart and learned what exactly those feelings were and how deeply they ran, but she was a busy woman.

Instead, having found its original mark, the hound sunk its teeth in a little further. 

“It was by design that I made Erichthonios susceptible to flattery and manipulation,” Athena said, stroking Claudien’s hair. It was as unruly as it had ever been, and a bit longer than Erichthonios would’ve worn it. “But his weakness must serve my purpose, and no other’s.”

“That shadow Hythlodaeus sensed…”

“Merely a little imprint on Erichthonios’s soul, so we could find one another again. How troublesome that it was observed and excised,” Athena placed a tender kiss in straw-colored hair, “and yet no matter. The soul crystal Erichthonios made to preserve his memories did just as well.”

“You truly have never seen Erichthonios as aught but a surrogate for your ambitions. What a terrible disservice to you both.”

Themis didn’t even seem aware that he had taken a half step forward. He remained there, but the aether around him subtly agitated. Athena shook her head–to think that he had been chosen as a neutral party for the star’s state of affairs. She would do far better, once all was said and done.