CHAPTER 91: WHERE ARE THE HESPERIDES?

I made my way across the marble courtyard, every step echoing against the white stone. The gods conversed like old friends in the sun, laughing and smiling as if eons of grudges had never existed. The breeze carried the soft chiming of harps and the scent of nectar. No tension. No conflict.

My instincts screamed at me that none of this was right.

Hermes turned and approached me first, arms open wide.

"Akhon! There you are," he said, grinning with an easy charm. "You disappeared after the last Council session. Dreamwalking again, huh?"

"Dreamwalking...?" I repeated slowly.

"You always get like this when you meditate too deep," Hermes said, chuckling. "Seriously, one of these days you’re gonna forget where you are."

I didn’t respond. I was too busy scanning his expression, looking for any sign of recognition. Any flicker of memory from the battlefield, from the war, from reality. But all I got was a wink and a friendly pat on the shoulder as he walked past.

Then came Zeus.

The king of the gods towered as always, radiating authority—but even his presence felt... softer. Gentler. He looked at me with pride.

"My son," Zeus said, clasping my forearm firmly. "Good to see you walking Olympus again. We’ve missed your counsel."

My son?

I blinked, too stunned to speak. Had the world rewritten even my origins? Had I been inserted into Olympus, fully formed?

He released my arm and gave a regal nod before turning back to Hera and Hermes, as if nothing were strange.

Then she stepped forward.

Athena.

Elegant, composed, radiant. Her silver armor gleamed in the light of the sun, though it looked more ornamental now than battle-worn. Her eyes, though, were as piercing as I remembered.

"Akhon," she said calmly. "You seem distant."

"I’m... processing," I muttered.

She stepped closer, scanning my face. "You often say that when you’re troubled. Your mind is a labyrinth, even for me."

I almost laughed. Even for you? She used to tell me I was the most predictable god in Olympus. That my loyalty was my weakness.

"Athena," I said carefully, "Do you remember the war? Nemesis? The fall of Olympus? Anything?"

She blinked, slowly, then tilted her head. "You’ve had another vision, haven’t you?"

"It wasn’t a vision," I said through gritted teeth. "It was real."

There was a long pause. Then, she gently placed a hand on my shoulder. "Come. Walk with me."

We walked in silence under the arched marble corridors, the weight of my own thoughts far louder than our footsteps. Athena led us away from the Forum, toward a quieter part of the palace—her domain, I guessed, though the layout of this Olympus felt... rearranged. Familiar, yet subtly wrong.

The balcony she brought me to overlooked the Aether Sea, a stretch of celestial waters that shimmered like stardust under the sky. It was breathtaking. Too perfect.

She stopped there, letting the breeze flow through her hair, and turned to me.

"You’ve been gone from here too long," Athena said softly.

"I didn’t go anywhere," I muttered. "At least, not by choice."

"You always say that," she replied with a faint smile. "You dream too deep. Wander too far. And when you return, you look at me like a stranger."

I turned my eyes toward the sea. "Maybe I do."

She stepped closer. "Akhon... are you really still lost in one of your dreams?"

"It wasn’t a dream." I turned to face her, my voice firmer now. "There was a war. Olympus was divided. Hecate, Poseidon, Aphrodite— they turned against the council and I fought beside them. There was a city of my making, Kaeron. And Aegle—"

"Who?" Athena interrupted, her brows drawing in. "Who’s Aegle?"

I stared at her. "You don’t know her?"

"She’s... one of your attendants, I believe," she said slowly. "Why would she matter?"

My chest tightened.

"She mattered," I said through clenched teeth. "She mattered to me more than anyone."

Athena took another step forward, closer this time. "Why are you so distant from me?"

I looked at her, unsure what she meant. She reached up, one hand gently brushing against the side of my face.

"You weren’t like this before," she said softly. "You’d take my hand without hesitation. You’d whisper your ideas to make the world and Olympus a better place to me at night when the halls were quiet. You trusted me, loved me in ways you never admitted out loud, but...we both knew it."

"Athena..." I said, stepping back, confused and overwhelmed. "We never— That never happened."

Her expression didn’t change. If anything, she looked... hurt.

"You still don’t remember?" she asked quietly.

"I remember everything, and none of what you said was ever real."

A shadow passed over her face, but she covered it quickly with a calm smile.

"I know you’re confused," she said. "It’s all right. You always are, when you come back from those dreams."

She reached out again, but this time I didn’t move. Her fingers gently touched my arm, slid up my shoulder, then rested on the side of my neck.

"I missed you," she whispered.

Then she leaned in and kissed me.

It was slow. Tender. Like she’d done it before, many times—like she thought I’d welcome it.

However, I didn’t move. I couldn’t. My body went stiff, my mind was screaming that this wasn’t right.

When she finally pulled away, her eyes locked with mine.

"Did you miss me?" she asked, voice barely audible.

I searched her face—any sign of deception, any hint that she was pretending. But there was nothing. Just longing.

"No," I whispered. "I missed someone else."

She frowned, confused. "Who?"

"Aegle, and the Hesperides" I said.

She pulled away slightly, as if the name left a sour taste in her mouth. "You’re still caught in that illusion."

"It wasn’t an illusion!" I snapped. "It was real! There was blood, death, the complex was burning—do you think I’d make that up?!"

Athena didn’t respond. She just stared at me, her gaze soft but unreadable.

Finally, she said, "If you truly believe such a world existed... I’m sorry you had to live in it."

She stepped back, arms folding over her chest. "But you’re here now. On your home. With me. With your people. Don’t let that fake world steal this one from you."

I couldn’t answer. My thoughts were racing too fast, my heartbeat pounding in my ears.

I turned away and looked back at the shimmering Olympus beyond the balcony.

Everything was too still. Too flawless.

And the more perfect it seemed... the more wrong it felt.

"But what if she was right? What if everything until now was a dream? No, don’t be ridiculous!! That’s impossible!!" I thought, trying to silence the spiraling doubt clawing at the edge of my mind. "But... who would believe that?"

That’s when an idea struck me. If this was real, if this Olympus had always been this way, then the cracks would show in what they claimed as truth. All I had to do was find one.

I turned to Athena with a slow smile—measured, calculated.

"Where are the Hesperides?"

She blinked, puzzled. "The what?"

"The Hesperides," I repeated, taking a step toward her. "The nymphs who guard the garden at the edge of the world. Hera’s orchard. The golden apples."

Athena’s brows furrowed in earnest confusion. "You must be mistaken. Hera tends her own garden. She always has. It’s her sanctuary. No one else is allowed near it."

My pulse quickened. There it was. The first real crack.

"No," I said, my voice steady. "That’s not how it’s supposed to be. The Hesperides protect the garden. That’s been their sacred duty since the garden was planted. They were created for that."

Athena opened her mouth to respond, but stopped. Something shifted in her eyes—uncertainty.

"You’re thinking too hard," I said gently. "Let me help. Their names: Hesperia. Erytheia. Aegle."

Athena froze.

"Hesperia works for Aphrodite now," she said slowly, the words falling out of her mouth like broken glass. "She... she tends the fountains in her temple. The love pools."

"And Erytheia?" I prompted.

"She... she’s one of the caretakers in the Garden of Demeter. One of the nymphs who watches over Persephone when Demeter is gone."

She blinked rapidly, her posture faltering for the first time. "But... that doesn’t make sense. I—I never questioned it before. That’s just how it’s always been."

"No," I said, stepping closer. "It’s how it is here. In this version of Olympus. But it’s not how it was."

Athena didn’t respond immediately. She looked away, down at the railing of the balcony, as if trying to make sense of her own memories.

"And Aegle?" I asked, quieter now. "She’s my handmaiden, right?"

"Yes..." Athena murmured. "She has always served in your hall."

"But she’s one of the Hesperides too. She was. She sang to the trees. She held starlight in her fingers. She lived at the edge of the world, beyond Hera’s gaze."

Athena’s lips parted slightly. Her hand clenched into a fist.

"I don’t understand," she whispered. "I know all of this. I remember Hesperia brushing Aphrodite’s hair. Erytheia playing with Persephone when she was a child. Aegle bringing you tea when you wake. I see them all. But not... not together. Not as sisters. Not in a garden."

I stared at her, my voice calm but cold. "That’s because someone—or something—rewrote Olympus. And they scattered the pieces. The people I knew have been reassigned, just like they tried to reassign me."

Athena slowly looked up at me, her eyes no longer glowing with divine certainty—but dimmed by a seed of doubt.

"But if this world isn’t real..." she said softly, "then what is?"

I didn’t have an answer. But for the first time since I awoke in this polished lie of a world, I wasn’t the only one questioning it.

And that meant something. If I delved enough I would make everyone remember soon enough...or at least I hoped.