Athena - Fate written in the Stars - 2

In the previous chapter, Athena found herself grappling with the sudden disappearance of someone she thought she truly connected with. Now, as she reflects on the absence and the weight of unspoken words, Athena is left with a growing sense of unease.

Chapter 2 - The weight of Unspoken Words

“I don’t know what happened,” she murmured, her voice carrying a hint of disbelief. “One moment, he was there. And the next… he wasn’t. I thought we shared something real, something unshakable. But…” Her words faltered, a lump forming in her throat. “He just vanished, and I’m left with nothing but questions.”

Ravi nodded and looked at her to say something. “Sometimes, people vanish without explanation, Athena. Maybe they’re searching for answers they can’t find in anyone else. Or maybe… they’re afraid to stay, even when they’ve found what they were looking for.”

He leaned back slightly, looking up at the sky. “It’s about how you keep going, even when they’re not there.”

A cold gust of wind whipped through the park, rustling the leaves and carrying the scent of earth and distant rain. Athena’s hair flew around her face, and she pulled her coat tighter, though it did little to keep the chill from seeping into her bones. The night felt endless—silent, empty, and full of questions.

She couldn’t allow her tears to spill out in front of him, so she let the silence linger, hoping it would mask the storm within her. Her heart raced, as her mind scrambled, trying to find something, anything, to pull her away from the heaviness threatening to consume her.

She leaned back and gazed at the sky, her voice steady but quiet. “The stars look so bright tonight,” she said, her tone carefully neutral.

It wasn’t much, but it was enough. The minor diversion gave her a moment to breathe, to hide her trembling hands and the unshed tears that shimmered in her eyes.  

Ravi followed her gaze, tilting his head to look at the sky. The stars shimmered like fragments of forgotten dreams, scattered across a velvet-black sky. Their light felt both ancient and eternal, a silent witness to countless stories. He smiled softly, as if recognizing her effort to shift the mood. “Yeah, they’re beautiful tonight,” he said. “But I  have to admit, I don’t know much about constellations. You’re the expert at spotting them.”

Athena blinked, startled by his comment. She turned to him with a mix of surprise and curiosity. “How do you know that?” she asked, her voice tinged with a nervous edge.

Ravi chuckled softly, his breath visible in the cold air. “I’ve seen you,” he said, his tone quiet yet sincere. “You were with him, staring at the sky. I noticed how animated you got when you talked about the constellations. You looked… alive, like you were sharing a part of yourself.”

“Yes, I love to watch the sky,” Athena admitted, her voice soft, as if the stars themselves might overhear. “Whenever I look at it, I feel a connection—something I can’t express through words. Like a thread between me and the universe.” She paused, her fingers fiddling with the swing’s chain. “It’s… comforting, in a way.”

Ravi tilted his head, curiosity sparking in his eyes. “Have you heard of Ouroboros?” Ravi asked, his voice taking on an almost reverent tone, as though the word itself carried a hidden weight.

Athena’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Yeah, I’ve heard about it,” she replied, her eyes glinting with intrigue. “The snake that eats its own tail, right? It’s a symbol of eternity, of cycles that never end.”

Ravi nodded, leaning forward slightly. “Exactly. It represents how everything is connected—beginnings and endings, creation and destruction. It’s like the stars, you know? Some of them are already gone, but their light is still traveling through space, still reaching us.”

Athena looked at him, her gaze softening. “I like that,” she said. “The idea that something can exist beyond its own time, leaving a mark even when it’s gone. It’s… Eternal.”

For a moment, the heaviness in her chest seemed to lift, replaced by a strange sense of wonder. The stars twinkled above, their silent light stretching across eons, a reminder that even in the vastness of the universe, connections mattered.

Ravi watched her for a moment, a faint smile playing on his lips. He seemed hesitant but something curious about his eyes.

“Athena, what if I told you that Ouroboros isn’t just a symbol?” he began, his gaze fixed on the stars. 

Her brows furrowed slightly. “What do you mean?” she asked, her tone cautious, almost hesitant.

Ravi opened his mouth to speak, but the words seemed to falter on the tip of his tongue. His gaze lingered on the stars, and for a moment, Athena thought she saw a flicker of something—fear, or perhaps a truth he wasn’t ready to share.

Athena heard footsteps approaching from behind, and she turned just as her sister, Maya, came into view, breathless and looking concerned. 

“Athena! What are you doing here?” Maya asked breathlessly, hands on her hips as she stopped in front of them. “Mom was worried if you were okay, so I came to check.”

Athena sighed, a mix of relief and annoyance bubbling within her. “I told her I’d be here,” she replied, trying to keep her voice calm.

“Well, it’s late,” Maya said, glancing at Ravi with an inquisitive expression before turning back to Athena. “And she said you should come home now.”

Athena shot Ravi an apologetic look. “I guess we’ll have to finish this conversation another time.”

Ravi smiled faintly, his expression unreadable. “Sure, bye. Take care .”

As Athena turned to leave with Maya, her mind raced with Ravi’s words and she said that in a low voice. What did he mean, “it isn’t just a symbol”? 

What? Maya asked.

Nothing. She replied.

She felt a pang of curiosity, mixed with something she couldn’t quite name—anticipation, maybe, or a strange sense of foreboding.

Later that Night

Lying in her bed, Athena stared at the ceiling. Ravi’s words replayed in her mind like a puzzle.

The Ouroboros—a snake eating its own tail, a symbol of eternity. But Ravi had said it wasn’t just a symbol. What did he mean? Could there be something more, something beyond the metaphor?

She thought about the way he’d looked at her when he said it, the gravity in his voice. It wasn’t just a casual remark. Athena sighed, shifting beneath her blanket. She knew sleep wouldn’t come easily tonight, not with the questions swirling in her head.

“Tomorrow, when the night sheds it’s darkness, I’ll ask Ravi what he meant. But a strange part of me not sure I want to listen to, hopes I never find out.”