Of Victory and Death - Chapter 1: The Visitation

It had been ages since my mother had visited me. My life had become a blur of late nights and endless cups of coffee, a relentless grind to finish my thesis on ancient mythological texts. I had chosen this field because it felt like home, a way to connect with the strange heritage I always felt lurking in the background most of my life. But as the deadline approached, the pressure mounted, and the familiar comfort of my mother turned into a source of dread.

I was deep into the history of Greek rituals when a sudden chill filled the room. The lights flickered, and the pages of my notes rustled without any wind. My heart raced, and I turned to see her, my mother, Nike, the goddess of victory, materializing in the corner of my small dorm room. Her presence was both awe-inspiring and terrifying, a constant reminder of the world I was a part of but had tried so hard to ignore.

"Elysia," she said, her voice a blend of urgency and calm that sent shivers down my spine, "We need to talk."

“What the hell are you doing?” I spun my chair around. My mother had always been beautiful—her long, golden hair cascaded down her back in intricate braids. Her eyes, a striking deep blue, scanned me as she took an elegant yet dominant seat on my bed. On her back, partially unfolded, were large wings, their feathers iridescent and shimmering with every movement she made. I sighed.

“I can’t come visit you?” Mother crossed her legs, and grimaced at the posters hung on my wall. She’d always been one for organization, something I never inherited. I was more like my father, chaotic and unruly. Yet, she still claimed me as her daughter—someway, somehow.

I started attending the Olympian Academy of Divinity and Mythology when I was only fifteen. I didn’t have a choice in the matter. I begged my mother to attend a normal University, in the mortal lands, but she refused. It wasn’t unlike her. She always got her way… most of the time. I finally broke free when I turned eighteen, and made my way to New York City. There, I started attending NYU, a place where I’d always felt at home.

The realms were kept separate… most of the time. There were, of course, representatives from each realm looming around each street, but it was still a break from the divine life that I hated so much.

My mother and father never got along—which was strange, because they had a forbidden union. You would think that if two people loved each other that much, like Ares and Aphrodite for example, they’d make something work. Yet, after I was conceived, they parted ways as if neither of them existed together in the first place.

I rolled my eyes and turned back to my notes. My eyes scanned the page; her rude appearance messed up my placement, so I grew anxious and nervously flipped through what I’d already written. I chose not to respond. She only visited me when she needed something, and I wasn’t in the mood that day. As I tried to focus back on my notes, the air in the room seemed to thicken with tension. I could feel my mother’s eyes on me. But I was determined not to give her the satisfaction of knowing how much her sudden appearance rattled me.

"You know why I'm here," she continued, her voice softened slightly, "There's something coming, Elysia. Something that threatens everything we hold dear."

I closed my eyes briefly, taking a deep breath. This was typical of her—dropping cryptic warnings and expecting me to drop everything and follow her lead. But this time, I was different. This time, I had my own path to follow, one that didn't involve being swept up in divine drama.

"I'm in the middle of my thesis, Mom," I finally replied, "I don't have time for this right now."

Her expression hardened, the lines around her eyes tightening, "Elysia, listen to me. This is bigger than your thesis. It's bigger than anything you've ever faced."

I scoffed inwardly. How many times had she used that line before? How many times had she dragged me into some mythical crisis that turned out to be less urgent than she claimed? It was always a big deal to her. She either wanted to prove someone wrong, or win—like she always did.

"I have responsibilities here. Real responsibilities, Mom. Unlike you, I can't just vanish whenever there's trouble brewing."

Her eyes flashed with a mix of hurt and determination, "You think I don't understand? You think I don't see how hard you've worked?"

I hesitated, the anger in me softening just a bit. Despite everything, she was still my mother—a mother who, disregarding all her faults, genuinely believed she was doing what was best for me.

"Just... give me some time," I said, "Let me finish this thesis, and then we can talk about whatever crisis you think is going to affect us."

She studied me for a long moment, her gaze searching mine as if weighing my words. Finally, she nodded.

"Alright," she said quietly, "But don't take too long, Elysia. Time is running out."

With that, she stood up, her wings folding back neatly against her back. For a moment, she hesitated, as if she wanted to say something more. But then, with a sigh, she turned and began to fade into shimmering light, slowly disappearing from my room.

As the last traces of her presence vanished, leaving only the faint echo of her warning hanging in the air, I sank back into my chair. My heart still raced with the intensity of her visit, but beneath it all, a seed of doubt had been planted. What if she was right? What if there really was something brewing here, something that could change everything?

I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. I had to focus. I had a thesis to finish, and deadlines weren't going to wait for divine interventions.

Hours passed in a blur of reading, typing, and sifting through ancient texts. The weight of my responsibilities poured down on me, each word I typed another step towards completing what felt like an impossible task. The night outside my window deepened. But despite my efforts to focus, my mind kept drifting back to my mother's visit. Nike, standing in my room with wings that shimmered like sunlight on water. Her presence had brought up memories I had tried to bury—the years spent at the Academy, learning about gods and monsters, heroes and legends. It was a life I had reluctantly embraced, a world of divine heritage and ancient prophecies that always seemed to intrude on my attempts at a normal existence.

I rubbed my eyes wearily, feeling the exhaustion seep into my bones. The clock on my desk blinked past midnight, a reminder of how little time remained before my thesis was due. The irony of it all—the daughter of Nike, struggling to finish her academic work on time. What a spectacle.

A sudden gust of wind rattled my window, drawing my attention back to the present. I frowned, glancing at the glass as if expecting to see my mother's ethereal form materialize once more. But there was only darkness beyond the pane; the city was finally asleep. With a sigh, I pushed myself away from the desk, stretching stiff muscles and trying to ease the tension knotting in my shoulders.

My father had just come to visit me about a week ago. He was much more consistent than my mother—as he really had no responsibilities other than counting how many people died a day. I inherited his introspective nature, a tendency to contemplate the deeper mysteries of life and existence. He taught me to respect the cycle of life and death, to understand that every ending carries the seed of a new beginning. In his own way, he has always been present, even when he couldn't be physically by my side. My father, Thanatos, was someone who I always looked up to and adored.

Closing my eyes, I breathed deeply, seeking the calm center that had always eluded me in times of crisis—something I got from him. I was divine, the daughter of Nike and Thanatos, and whether I liked it or not, the fate of Olympus—and perhaps even more— was about to rest in my hands.

~

My Name is Elysia. This is just the start of my story, and I hope that you all brace yourself for the tale I’m about to tell.