The mirror shook slightly. "Athena…"

Athena kneaded the steam with her fingers, whispering the ancient tongue to herself. The mirror moved an inch. Light bounced off it, so intense she thought the glass would shatter. Zeus stepped out. His step was no longer confident as he approached Athena and his hair and beard were a disheveled, lifeless gray. Even his eyes looked old and tired.

Athena leaned back, soaking her long, dark hair in the geyser’s magical waters. She closed her eyes. A moment later, she heard Zeus splashing beside her.

"Forgive me, my daughter, for disturbing your rest." Zeus coughed. He slurped water from the geyser. "I promise it shall be for only a moment."

"Stay as long as you wish." Athena barely caught herself before her voice cracked. She rubbed water onto her face and slowly opened her eyes.

Zeus stirred the water with his staff. Nothing happened. He smiled slightly and handed the staff to Athena. "Here. A parting gift."

Athena blinked hard as she took the staff. "Can this combined with my magic waters not compel you to stay?"

"Nothing compels the King of the Immortals." Zeus smiled, soft and sad. "My Hera went to the mortal world a long time ago. Perhaps it is not too late, even now. I shall find her. Perhaps we three, someday…"

Zeus’s body began to fade out of the room. He blinked back into existence. "Listen well, my daughter. That which was begun by Apollo’s betrayal is about to come to an end. My staff has… power… truth…" Zeus faded out of the room again. From the mirror, Athena heard the word, "Icarus." She waited, but there was nothing further. After a moment, she grabbed at the air around the mirror, trying to call her father back to her, but it was too late.

Fragments of memory bubbled up with the pain as Athena sat in front of the mirror, turning the staff over and over in her hands. Icarus’s sun-gold hair… Phaeton falling from the sky… Apollo’s grief afterwards…

Athena’s shoulders shook, but she did not cry. After a long while, she got up and stirred the water with her staff, whispering to it in the ancient tongue. Her father’s voice boomed from it, strong and sure, as it had been in the centuries where the gods believed themselves to be immortal:

"Your name shall be purged from our history, Icarus of Crete, as well as from the history of Man. As far as those who come after you are concerned, you flew too close to the sun and as a result drowned in the waters near your home."

The geyser hissed angrily. Steam and water swirled together, threatening to flood the room. Athena dropped the staff and jumped back as thunder rolled from somewhere in the distance.

"We immortals tried to cheat immortality." The voice, deep and serious, seemed to be coming from Zeus’s staff. Athena stared at it, saying nothing. "We stole it from one whose name deserved to be known. Now we too will die. Unless…"

A golden scroll flew out of the water, flipped over, and landed at Athena’s feet. The water calmed as Athena picked up the scroll and unrolled it. It was blank.

Athena touched the staff to the scroll. "Is this my father's wish?" she asked aloud.

Lightning flashed. "That no longer matters."

Athena sighed. The whole Icarus affair was ugly and perhaps unflattering to herself and her father. Before this crisis the gods had been so arrogant, so afraid of mortals realizing their own worth… she did not want the world to know. But it seemed the only way--and perhaps there were some things that even gods had no choice but to do.

Athena laid the scroll flat across her lap. Energy flowed through the staff to her hands and wrists, making her heart beat faster. She realized how much strength Zeus must have sacrificed in order to give her this last gift and this last obligation. She wiped her eyes dry with her toga. There was no time for tears now.

The staff glowed as Athena touched it to the scroll. A sweet, fresh smell wafted up from the parchment, reminding her of springtime. The staff dragged her hand across the page, glowing more intensely with each word of Icarus's history it burned onto the scroll.

Many hours later Athena dropped the staff and leaned against the wall, exhausted. She could not tell what time it was--the light had not changed on Olympus in many days and nights now--but she knew she had been working harder and longer than she had since her city began to fall. She wanted only to rest, but could not. She carefully rolled up the scroll and grimly forced herself towards her father's palace.

The palace, once the tallest and most magnificent building on all of Mount Olympus, looked like a hovel Athena had once visited in the mortal world. A slum, the mortals called it. Paint was peeling off everywhere, the windows were streaked with dust, and there were cracks in the wood. Athena hurried past, to the pond behind it. The water looked green and polluted; the drink Icarus had so long ago refused would poison him now. Even so, Athena knew there had to be some magic left in it. The scroll wriggled in her arms, desperate to dive in.

Athena touched the scroll with her staff one last time. "Let only one who knows and loves this world touch and see this scroll," she intoned. The staff flashed faintly. Athena stirred the muck with it, trying to open the portal into the mortal world. The scroll jumped out of her arms and into the water.

"Let there be one," Athena whispered. Her shoulders shook as the wind carried the scroll away to the mortal world. She knelt by the pond, crying, for there was no one around to hear her tears.