The sea always hides its secrets beneath silence.
I woke up again to the sound of waves brushing against the shore, a rhythm that felt strangely alive. The sun was higher now, soft and golden, painting the sky in gentle shades of peach. I had slept through the night on the same beach where I had fallen — half mortal, half broken. My divine senses were fading, and all that remained was the dull ache in my chest.
When I tried to stand, my legs trembled. The sand stuck to my wet dress, and my hair clung to my face like seaweed. I wasn't used to this — weakness, hunger, pain. On Olympus, I could summon food, wind, or healing with a thought. Now, I had to walk.
And that's when I heard his voice again.
"Good morning, lost girl."
Eryx stood a few steps away, holding a steaming paper cup. His smile was faint, lazy, but his eyes— those deep, unreadable eyes— studied me too carefully.
I blinked. "You're still here?"
He handed me the cup. "You were half-frozen last night. I couldn't just leave you."
The warmth of the coffee seeped into my palms. It felt like life itself. "Thank you," I murmured.
He tilted his head slightly. "You never told me your name."
"Ana," I said after a pause. It felt strange introducing myself like a mortal, without titles. No 'Daughter of Athena'. Just Ana.
He smiled. "I'm Eryx. Local historian, part-time night owl."
"Historian?" I repeated, curious.
He shrugged. "I study myths… especially ones about gods and monsters."
For a moment, my heart skipped. Fate had a cruel sense of humor.
---
The day passed slowly. Eryx took me into the nearby town — a place called Aegira, small but beautiful, with white stone houses and olive trees swaying in the wind. The people smiled easily here. No one looked at me like a goddess or a curse. Just a stranger.
We walked along the narrow streets, and I couldn't help but stare at everything — the laughter of children, the smell of bread, the chatter of markets. The world was so loud, so alive. It was overwhelming… and oddly beautiful.
At a small café, Eryx bought us lunch. I stared at the plate — real food, warm and fragrant. The goddess in me wanted to reject it, but the mortal in me was starving. I took a bite.
The taste of bread and herbs hit my tongue, and tears burned my eyes. So this is what it means to be human, I thought. To feel hunger, to taste, to need.
"You look like you've never eaten before," Eryx said, amused.
"Not like this," I whispered.
He leaned closer. "You speak like someone who's been… elsewhere."
I looked at him, wondering how much truth he could handle. "Maybe I was."
He chuckled softly. "Fair enough. Everyone comes to Aegira to escape something."
---
As the sun began to sink, painting the horizon in gold and red, Eryx offered me a place to stay.
"There's an old guesthouse near the cliffs," he said. "Nobody uses it anymore. You can rest there until you figure out what you want to do."
Something in his tone was both kind and heavy, like he was hiding more than words. Still, I nodded. "Thank you."
He led me through a winding path surrounded by olive groves and marble ruins. When we reached the guesthouse, it looked like something out of another time — ancient stone walls covered in ivy, broken statues guarding the entrance.
I stepped inside. The air was cool, and the silence deep. There was a faint humming sound, like whispers trapped in the walls. My divine instincts stirred — this place had memory.
Eryx watched me carefully. "Does it feel strange?"
"Yes," I admitted. "Like it remembers things it shouldn't."
He smiled slightly. "Old places often do."
As he turned to leave, I asked, "Why are you helping me?"
He paused at the doorway, his back to the light. "Because you looked like someone who'd fallen from the sky."
I froze. "What did you say?"
He met my eyes, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "Figure of speech. Don't worry, I don't bite."
But something flickered behind his expression — something sharp and ancient.
When he was gone, I sat by the window, watching the sea shimmer beneath the rising moon. I tried to summon my mother's name in prayer, but no answer came. Only the wind, carrying whispers of serpents and wings.
---
That night, I dreamt of Athena and Medusa.
Two women — mirror images of pain and pride.
Athena stood in armor, her eyes cold as steel. Medusa wept, snakes writhing in her hair, her reflection shattering in a pool of tears.
Between them stood a child — neither god nor monster — reaching out to both.
When I woke, my hands were shaking. The mark of a serpent glowed faintly on my wrist — a sign I hadn't seen before. My heart pounded. The curse was changing me.
And outside my window, beneath the moonlight, Eryx stood by the cliffs. He wasn't moving, just staring at the sea.
His shadow stretched unnaturally long. His reflection didn't appear in the window glass.
I should have been afraid. I should have run. But something in me — maybe the part that was still divine — whispered, Stay.
Because even as the night deepened, I felt it — a thread connecting us, woven not by choice but by destiny. And somewhere deep inside, I already knew:
This man would be both my salvation and my end.