Snake Tongue – Mythological/Urban Fantasy one-shot

The three girls are sitting outside the café, pretending to be absolutely normal. Even from a distance, Athena can clearly see that only one of them is happy to see her.


She’ll have to… what was that expression she learned the other day? Bite the bullet.

She’ll have to bite the bullet. Besides, this meeting was her own idea.

She steps out of her hiding corner on the other end of the square and crosses it, trying to make herself look just as uninteresting and as insignificant as ever. She pushes her fists deep into the pockets of her grey hoodie, while her silver eyes shot glares at the crowd. In case anyone would dare to cross eyes with her, they know what’s coming for them. She might not be able to turn them into tiny skittering critters anymore, but her mind is still as sharp as ever, and if anything, this exile has turned her more creative.

The first to spot her is, of course, the youngest. She’s the prettiest of the three by far, and if Athena was of any disposition similar to her brothers or sisters, she’s call her gorgeous. She a round, symmetrical face, deep green eyes that shine like sunlight through summer foliage, alabaster skin that seems to glisten and an incredible mane of black hair that fall down to her shoulders like a waterfall of night.

“M-My Liege!” She chirps, her voice cracking with emotion.

“‘sup,” Athena greets her and her sisters, sitting at her table as she occupies the only empty chair.

“What does that mean?” Asks the middle sister. She sits the closest and has cut her brazen hair, carrying them in a short braid. Her brown eyes are as sharp as the teeth that she bares in a snarl. “You have the gall of showing your face here, at least speak properly.”

“Hm,” nods the eldest. She’s a proper blonde and she’s by far the tallest and strongest among them, not to mention how she towers over Athena herself.

Could she take her in a fight? She used to be great at a little scuffle on the hot sand, but months of trying to set up a gaming channel did not do wonder for her physique.

“It’s just a greeting. It is popular here, so I am just trying to blend in.”

“She was just trying to be helpful,” the youngest says, cupping herr sister’s hand. “Nothing bad is going on. Besides, she promised. Didn’t you, my Liege?”

Athena nods, making her hoodie wobble.

She picks up a crumble from the table. They have already shared a hearthy breakfast, and she doesn’t feel like ordering anything. Besides, this conversation is going to be short.

It’s not like she’s shit broke or anything.

“Yes. I did promise that. Thank you, Medusa.”

The youngest beams at the mention of her name and Athena’s heart chokes a little bit on that name. Seeing her so happy shouldn’t be right. Deep down, no matter everything that transpired between them, she’s still her devoted priestess.

Which only makes this even more ridiculous. She’s back to pulling the strings from behind the scene.

Then again, was she ever good at anything else?

“Why did you ask to see the three of us?” Stheno leans over, making her blonde hair fall to cover half her face. She puts herself almost between her and Medusa, as if to shield her. Athena’s eyes go to her exposed arms, which are far more trained and thicker than her own physique.

She needs to hit the gym.

Tomorrow. Better to make a note on that.

“I need a favor,” she grimaces. It’s never a good thing to start with, but she hopes that her honesty will win them over. She’s not trying to screw them over.

Well, not this time.

“I knew it,” Euryale hisses, balling her fists. “More of your bullshit!”

Athena quirks an eyebrow. For all her talk, she does seem to have picked up at least that part of the local vernaculier.

“Let her speak!” Medusa complains, standing up and holding out a hand. “You will allow her to explain, and then if I do not like it, we will go our separate ways.” Her green eyes search for the other two, and boh Euryale and Stheno lower their gazes. Medusa nods, and her hair dance like a jellyfish. “Very well. Please go on, my Liege.”

“… thanks.” Athena licks her thin lips. This is not going to sound good. “I see that you have adjusted quite well. I hope you don’t mind the current… situation too much.”

Euryale chuckles.

“Yeah… what part should we not mind, though? The exile? The horrible, noisy and polluted world you pulled all of us into? The choking… amount of mortals around?” She waves her arm to encompass the square, with its crowd of workers, tourists, schoolgirls and so on. “Because if you are talking about adjusting to this, to Tartarus with it.”

Athena tilts her head. Good. She has a lead.

Thankfully, Euryale has always been a bit of a hothead. She has a lot of experience with hotheads, just look at Ares.

“Then I suppose you might find my suggestion more to your liking than you thought.” She locks eyes with Medusa, who blushes a little under her gaze.

She could leverage her devotion, as shhe already did once.

It would be so easy – pull a few strings here, knot a few more there.

Waving and waving the pattern she can see.

“I am making plans,” she says tapping with her fingers on the table. She is always making plans… about things she needs. Information.


A new GPU…

“That’s sort of the problem,” Euryale hisses.

“I do agree. Especially because I lack information. About how things are going home.”

“Not good,” Stheno murmurs, bringing a finger to her lips as she bites into it, nervous. “I have heard they are not good at all.”

Athena closes her eyes. Inside her mind, she sees it all: the final storm, the yells, the scream of pain and anguish of her father as the monster Typhon tore his flesh apart.

And the shame of the exile blisters upon her cheeks.

“I need you three to go back for a while.”

Author’s Notes: I felt like writing a dialogue.

Thanks for reading.


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