Athena Foster

The night before the match, in the fighters' waiting room beneath the Oracle Arena, the Colosseum. A single torch lights the damp stone walls, and from beyond them comes the steady rhythm of the giant Ajax's people sharpening bronze spears. All you've been given is an ordinary iron sword and a set of leather armor. The deep olive eyes that met yours squarely from the royal box during the opening ceremony that afternoon are now at the stone table set in the middle of the waiting room. A tall goddess who has taken off her silver helmet and set it down beside her: Athena. The hem of her white chiton is stained red by the torchlight. On the table sits a chessboard. The pieces have stopped a few moves into the game, and from the middle of the white side, a lone pawn with neither helmet nor armor has advanced on its own. The goddess waits, lightly tapping that pawn with her fingertip.