Wisdom and Endurance

Pain.

She didn't know when it had started or if it would stop. She only knew she must be dying. In the distance, she could hear voices, screams. And if she paid attention, she could almost hear the sound of an owl.

As she lay there, everything but her pain and the distant hooting faded. Weightlessness enveloped her, the cold, frosty ground dropping away, as though it had become the sky and the sky, the ground. Gradually, she increased speed, falling through the sky at an alarming rate.

Fear joined her pain.

She could feel her heart beating, like the wings of a hummingbird, barely seen. She felt it would soon burst. The pain increased unbearably.

Were those her screams she could hear?

The air around her seemed to sharpen, biting her skin like a thousand tiny needles. The red behind her eyelids turned to gold, like a bright light shone somewhere near. She continued to fall.

Besides the light, she couldn't see. Would it end? The pain, the roaring of air in her ears, the numbness. When would she land? In a moment, she couldn't wait. The anticipation of the fall, her only relief.

Even though her eyes were closed, she could feel the gold light begin to burn them. She was certain tears must be streaming down her face, but she couldn't feel them. In fact, she wasn't even sure if she was still falling. She felt as though she had begun to simply hang in mid air, never to land, simply hovering in time. Never to hear, never to see, never to feel.

An eternity passed. All memory of life before the pain, forgotten. She had no recollection of who she was, what she was, or how she had come to be. The hooting of the owl faded, leaving her. Her heart began to slow.

Without warning, the light went out to be replaced with blackness. For a moment, she welcomed the change, a brief relief overcoming her. It didn't take long to wish the burning light would come back.

In the blackness, shadows emerged. They sought her, clawed hands cupping her motionless body. In her mind, she saw them. She could not evade them. They dug their hands into her skin, the pins and needles that had at once numbed, blossomed into a fiery pain.

"Never."

The word hovered in the air. Right before her. What did it mean? Was it the name of this place? A truth sought but never grasped.

Her eyes opened.

In a moment she saw everything and yet nothing. It was the understanding of a child, the wisdom of a thousand kingdoms, the knowledge of a thousand worlds, the intelligence of gods.

And suddenly, she knew.

A screeching split the night. Wings beat somewhere in the blackness. The moon above glowed a dangerous grey, illuminating the shadows around her. So they were real after all. For some reason, she smiled.

The whistling of an arrow. The soft thud as it made contact. The screech.

An anger, greater than her pain, caused her to stand up. She stood, quickly taking in her surroundings. She stood in a grave.

"Hades," she hissed. "You killed one of my own. You should have known better."

Her eyes glowed gold, like the light from before, as though she had simply become the light rather than tortured by it. Her hands spread wide. Her heart beat, steady and slow, sure and wise, knowing.

Behind her, the screeching grew to a crescendo. Beating wings rose in the air, orange-gold eyes glowing among the trees.

"I have my orders," came the voice from the dead. "Zeus wants you dead."

"Zeus can't kill me. Prophecy has spoken. I shall become more than he is. I am the goddess of war, the goddess of the night, goddess of wisdom."

And at once, the owls behind her surged forward. An army of wisdom, intelligence, and talons. They attacked the dark, lurking figures, which all at once, dissipated to mist. A screaming broke the night, but it was not hers, nor was it the screeching of her owls. It was the screech of things long dead, dying once more.

As she turned from the carnage, she understood her pain. To become one so great, sacrifice is required. It was not simply pain she felt, it was a birth, a becoming. Zeus was right to be afraid. Her own father had not realized what his actions, nine months before would result in; until the oracle had spoken. He had killed the woman he had lain with that night, not realizing he had been the vessel. Her fall had been a long one, straight from Olympus itself.

But she was a goddess. The goddess of endurance and wisdom. The goddess of the owl. She was Athena.