Chapter 135: D-Day
"Mom, you look nervous." Nathaniel spoke, prompting Athena to gaze at her reflection in the mirror again with a hint of vulnerability. She had been staring at her reflection, looking for anything that could provide a sense of calm before the storm.
Upon hearing her son’s concern, she closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady herself. When she opened them again, the remnants of her anxiety had been replaced by a cold, steely determination glinting in her eyes.
Nathaniel continued, unfazed. "You don’t have to worry, Mom. We won’t let him win." He grasped her hand firmly in his, as Kathleen took hold of her other hand. Their touch was grounding, a reassurance against the mounting pressure she felt.
"We will win this, Mom. It’s a done deal. It’s inevitable." Nathaniel concluded with a confidence that would have warmed her heart, had she not been so preoccupied with her own swirling emotions.
He rested his head by her waist, a small gesture that usually made her smile, but today served as a reminder of what was at stake.
Athena longed to run her fingers through their hair affectionately, but with both of them holding her hands, she decided to leave it. She rather fought back the nervousness that threatened to creep in again.
It wasn’t that she wasn’t prepared or that she feared losing; that would never happen. But the specter of the elder council loomed large, a reminder of the painful memories tied to the last time she had entered that hall.
Six years ago, that place had marked the bane of her existence, seeping her life with bitterness and anger—feelings she thought she had buried under the weight of time. Yet here they were, ready to resurface, waiting for the right trigger.
In her chest, she felt a familiar ache, not as sharp as it had been those years ago, when the pain had consumed her entirely, but still present, gnawing at her resolve.
"Mom... I have a question, quite unrelated." Nathaniel’s voice broke through her thoughts again, and she looked down at him.
"What is it, Nathaniel?" She asked, noting the unusual quietness of Kathleen, who had been uncharacteristically subdued all morning.