Chapter 26

A week had passed since Aeolus sought me out, his determination burning in his eyes like a flame refusing to be extinguished. He had found me under the shade of an old tree, watching over a flock of sheep as a favor to one of the villagers. It was a simple, mindless task—that was not really that big of a deal. It was a nice break from all the paperwork that I had to deal with back home.

Aeolus had approached hesitantly at first, but his voice had been firm when he spoke. "I want to become stronger, so please train me."

I had expected as much. His refusal the first time had been merely the uncertainty of youth. "Very well," I had told him, rising to my feet. "Then let's begin."

Training Aeolus was a challenge—not because he lacked ability, but because he had already learned much on his own. His control over the wind was instinctive, honed through necessity rather than discipline. He could call the breeze with a flick of his fingers, shape it into small whirlwinds to kick up dust, and even summon a strong gust to push back an approaching foe. But raw talent was nothing without refinement.

I drilled him relentlessly. At dawn, I woke him by knocking him off his sleeping mat. He groaned and grumbled but learned quickly to be ready at any moment. We began with simple exercises—feeling the wind, sensing the currents around him, distinguishing the difference between the natural movement of air and the influence of his own will.

"Again," I commanded as he stood at the edge of a cliff, his arms outstretched, sweat rolling down his brow. "Feel the wind, don't force it. Guide it like you would a stray horse."

Aeolus took a breath, closed his eyes, and focused. The wind shifted at his call, swirling around him before it surged outward in a controlled blast. I nodded in approval.

"You're improving," I admitted. "But improvement is not mastery."

He scowled, frustrated. "Then what is?"

I lifted my hand, and in an instant, the air around us fell completely still. Not a single leaf rustled, not a single blade of grass swayed. It was an unnatural silence, one that sent a shiver down Aeolus's spine.

"Mastery," I said, breaking the silence, "is when the wind moves only when you will it."

His eyes widened in understanding, and with renewed determination, he resumed his training.

As the days passed, I continued to push him harder. He ran through stormy winds, forcing himself to remain upright. He lifted himself off the ground, allowing the wind to carry him just enough that he could move with lightness rather than weight. He learned to deflect projectiles by manipulating the air, to create barriers of wind to shield himself from attacks.

And then came the next step—the change he was not yet prepared for.

During one of our brief little breaks, I poured him a drink. It was nothing unusual—a simple refreshment after a grueling day of training. Yet, within the liquid, unseen and unfelt, was a single drop of my blood. Infused within it were the remnants of Zeus's domains, the essence of storms, sky, and lightning.

The moment the liquid passed his lips, I knew the transformation had begun. Aeolus drank without suspicion, the faint taste of iron masked by the herbs I had mixed into his water. For a brief moment, he merely wiped his mouth, seemingly unaffected.

Then, his breath hitched. His body stiffened, eyes widening as his fingers twitched uncontrollably. The cup slipped from his grasp, shattering on the ground. A strangled sound escaped his throat as his body seized up, his muscles spasming under the strain of divine power forcing itself into his mortal frame.

I was at his side before he collapsed, catching him with ease. His breathing was ragged, his skin clammy, and his heartbeat thundered against his ribs like a caged beast. He was burning up, his mortal shell struggling to withstand the influx of raw power now coursing through his veins.

"You'll survive," I murmured, more to myself than to him. "And when you wake, you'll be more than what you were."

With that, I hoisted him over my shoulder and carried him through the winding paths back to his home. His mother, a tired but kind woman, opened the door with wide, worried eyes.

"He overexerted himself," I said before she could speak, adjusting his weight in my arms. "Training was more taxing than he anticipated."

She pressed a hand to her son's forehead, her brow furrowing with concern. "He's burning up."

I nodded solemnly. "The body adapts to hardship in strange ways. He needs rest."

She hesitated, then stepped aside, allowing me to lay him down. As I placed him on his bed, I could see the flickering traces of power just beneath his skin. It would take time for the change to settle, for his body to fully accept the divine essence I had given him. For now, I have done all I could.

I left without another word, vanishing into the night.

A week passed before he returned to me.

Aeolus approached hesitantly, his usual confidence undercut by confusion. He rolled his shoulders, flexed his fingers, stretched his legs as if testing something foreign.

"My body feels… strange," he admitted, watching me closely. "Not weak, but… different."

I hummed, pretending to contemplate. "It's likely an aftereffect of your training. Your body is adjusting to the strain."

He frowned but seemed to accept my words. Good. He was not yet ready to know the truth.

"Come," I said, gesturing toward the open field. "We have much to do."

From that moment, I began to push him harder. Where before I had focused on refining his existing skills, now I sought to awaken the potential buried deep within him.

The first few days, the changes were subtle. His control over the winds had sharpened, his stamina increased, and his reactions were quicker. But it was not until I truly tested him that I saw the fruits of my work.

I stood before him one morning, arms crossed as I studied him. "Tell me, Aeolus, what do you know of storms?"

He blinked, taken aback. "Storms?"

"Yes. Wind is but one aspect of the skies. What of the rains, the lightning, the tempests?"

He shifted uneasily. "I… I control the wind. Not storms."

"Yet the two are intertwined. The wind shapes the storm. Directs it. Strengthens it." I stepped closer. "If you can wield one, you can wield the other."

He opened his mouth to argue but hesitated. Doubt flickered in his expression, but so did curiosity.

I extended a hand. "Focus."

He inhaled deeply, stretching out his fingers. The wind stirred immediately, swirling around us in a controlled current. I watched, waiting.

"Now," I instructed, "reach deeper. Feel the air beyond the wind—the moisture, the heat, the charge."

He furrowed his brows in concentration. Minutes passed, his breathing even and controlled. And then—

A spark. A flicker of golden energy danced between his fingertips, fleeting as a dying ember.

His eyes widened. "Did you see—"

"Again."

He clenched his jaw and tried once more. This time, the spark lasted longer. A crackle, faint but present.

His chest rose and fell with exhilaration. "I did it!"

I allowed myself a small smile. "Yes. And now, we will refine it."

Training intensified from that day forward. I pushed him harder, tested his limits, forced him to embrace every aspect of his power. The winds became his allies, the rain an extension of his will, the lightning an instrument of his wrath.

One night, as storm clouds gathered overhead, I led him to the cliffs overlooking the valley. The air was thick with tension, the scent of rain clinging to our skin.

"Call it," I commanded.

He swallowed hard but lifted his hands. The wind obeyed first, whipping around us in anticipation. Then came the rain, hesitant at first, then steady. He gritted his teeth, struggling to grasp the final element.

"Feel the charge," I urged. "Do not force it—let it come to you."

His hands trembled. And then, with a sharp intake of breath—

A bolt of lightning split the sky.

It arced from the clouds, striking the ground a few yards away. Aeolus stumbled back, his breath ragged, eyes wide with exhilaration.

He looked at me, chest heaving. "I did it."

I nodded approvingly. "Yes. And soon, you will do more."

I turned away before he could see the smirk playing at my lips. The power of Zeus was settling within him really nicely. I couldn't wait to see the god that he became. 

<------------------->

The wind howled around us, swirling in unpredictable currents as Aeolus struggled to maintain control. His body trembled with effort, his arms outstretched, fingers clawing at the air as if he could physically grasp it.

"Focus," I instructed, my voice calm despite the evident frustration in his movements. "The air does not obey brute force. It is not an ox to be beaten into submission. It must be understood and guided, not commanded like a soldier."

Aeolus gritted his teeth, his brow damp with sweat as he tried again. His feet lifted slightly off the ground for a brief moment before he lost control and tumbled down. He groaned in frustration, punching the earth beside him.

I crossed my arms, watching with a small smirk. "And that helps you how?"

He shot me a glare, pushing himself up. "This is impossible."

"Nothing is impossible. It is only difficult because you resist the natural flow of the winds. Do you think birds flap their wings against the air with no understanding? They let the currents carry them, adjusting only when necessary. You are not working with the air, Aeolus. You are fighting it."

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Alright. Again."

Before I could even prepare for another round of training, Hera's voice sliced through the fog of my thoughts, an unexpected interruption that pulled me away from my focus like a dagger through the veil of concentration.

Hades, where in the abyss are you?

I let out an exasperated sigh, feeling the pressure of the moment settle heavily in my chest. I pinched the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes for a brief moment, wishing I could block her voice out, just for a second. "Hera," I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper, the words laced with frustration. "Not now."

But of course, that was a request no one ever honored. Hera never came when it was convenient, and she certainly didn't leave when I asked.

Now. Where are you?

Her voice, unwavering and sharp, cut through my weariness. It was a command, not a question, and there was no use in ignoring her. I glanced over at Aeolus, who was in the middle of preparing for yet another attempt at flight, his focus completely locked onto the skies above. I watched him adjust his stance, adjusting his balance to better read the wind currents. I had to give the guy credit—he was learning quickly. His determination was admirable, and his progress had been steady. Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that something much bigger was brewing. Aeolus was still a fledgling in the grand scheme of things, and there was no telling what would come next.

"I'm with a mortal—" I began to respond, but before I could finish the thought, Hera's voice slammed back into my mind, impatient and full of urgency.

There is a goddess here on Olympus asking to meet you. She says her name is Athena.

Athena?

I froze, my body tensing at the name. It didn't make sense. Athena was a goddess who should not even exist in this timeline. Zeus had never been with Metis, and without that union, Athena would never have been born. This wasn't possible, or at least, it shouldn't have been. So why the hell was there someone calling themselves Athena on Olympus?

A new kind of suspicion filled my thoughts, each possibility more alarming than the last. Could this be some imposter? Or worse, could this be some kind of twisted version of the goddess, brought forth from a different reality?

My voice dropped to barely a whisper as I processed the implications. Are you sure that she calls herself Athena?

Hera's reply was swift, but this time there was something else in her voice—something I couldn't quite place. Yes. Her tone shifted, carrying an edge of concern and something close to fear. She says she wishes to join Olympus.

The words hit me harder than I expected. Join Olympus? This was no casual visit; this was a declaration of intent. Athena, or whatever this entity was, wanted something. And I had to find out exactly what that was before any of us got caught in the web of whatever she was planning.

I looked at Aeolus again, who was now standing tall, his attention split between the open sky and his focus on me. The wind began to stir around him as he worked to summon his next flight attempt, but his movements were calm—deliberate. His patience was still developing, but there was no denying he was becoming more adept. Still, he had no idea what was going on, and it was best if he stayed out of this one. This was something I needed to handle alone.

"Notify the others," I said, my voice measured, though the tension building in my chest betrayed my calm tone. "I will meet with her shortly."

Understood. Hera's voice was cold now, but the undertone of her concern remained, a flicker of something unsettling lingering in her words. We will be ready.

Without another word, I severed the connection between us, the weight of the moment hanging heavily in the air. I turned to Aeolus, who was still standing in the middle of the field, his brow furrowed in confusion. I knew he could sense something had shifted, though he had no idea what. I had not told him the full story of Athena—no one could understand that particular chapter of my life.

I turned to Aeolus, who was panting but steadily lifting himself off the ground, his feet no longer touching the earth. He wobbled but managed to maintain his height for several breaths before gently descending. He landed with a look of triumph before noticing my expression.

"Something wrong?" he asked, wiping his brow.

I nodded. "I have business to attend to. You will continue training in my absence."

His face fell slightly, but he nodded. "For how long?"

"As long as necessary." I turned, my form flickering as I prepared to vanish. "Do not grow complacent, Aeolus. When I return, I expect to see progress."

He straightened, determination flashing in his eyes. "Understood."

Without another word, I disappeared, the wind whipping violently around me as the world blurred.