Dahyun threw the knife. It hit the target. Off centre.

She wondered if imagining a face would help. 

She didn’t go that far, but threw the next one. Closer, but still not where she wanted it. 

They said that listening to music helped concentration. Dahyun had found they were wrong. Even the music of birds was hardly helpful to her. 

She let the knife fly. It went wide, missing the target entirely.

Dahyun cursed. Several times.

She went to retrieve the wretched blade. It was a shameful walk, made worse as she passed the frayed cardboard target. In addition to the failed throw, it put her poor accuracy on display. None had hit the very centre. Apollo would've laughed his head off. She wondered if he wasn't already. Sometimes he checked in on her at the most inopportune moments, ranging from the middle of a hunt to a simple walk she took through the woods. 

She picked up the knife, walked back to the target and stabbed directly into the centre. She proceeded to tear it apart. 

“Woah there,” someone said. “And I thought I had anger management issues.” 

Dahyun turned to see Chaeyoung in a light set of linen clothes. 

“Don’t want to spar today?” 

Chaeyoung shrugged. “We could, but you losing wouldn’t do much for your mood.” 

Dahyun laughed. “Your wins are flukes!”

The goddess of chance grinned right back at her. “I take risks. They pay off.” 

Dahyun took the rest of the knives in her arms. 

“With that look, I feel like you’re gonna use me as target practice." 

“With your luck, I’d miss you each time,” Dahyun said as she slid them all into the pouch she’d brought with. “Shall we walk?” 

“We shall.” Chaeyoung grinned, holding out her arm. 

Dahyun took it. 

The other goddess scrunched her face up. “You’re sweaty.” 

“Get over it.” 

The two of them walked through the forest. Dahyun had made the destroyed target disappear. 

“Mind telling me what’s bothering you?”

“Nothing’s,” Dahyun stopped herself. The last time Chaeyoung had come during a so-called ‘temper tantrum’, Dahyun had been furious at her father for his incompetence and complete dismissal of mortal lives. “I don’t know if I’m thinking right.”

“I can answer that,” she said. “You never do.” 

Dahyun elbowed her. The other goddess didn't even try to dodge it. 

“If you're doing risky business, I can always try blessing you.” Chaeyoung winked. She held up a hand. In between her fingers, four four-leaf clovers appeared. 

“No thanks. What’s happening right now doesn’t need to involve me taking a risk,” she replied. “At least I don’t think it does.”

“Who do I need to bless?” Chaeyoung raised her hands, as though she were prepared to hold up the sky. 

Those sorts of blessings entailed a wave of bad luck, ranging from dropping all sorts of fragile dishes and glasses, saying exactly the wrong thing at exactly the wrong moment, all the way to encountering the wrong beast when you had nothing on your person. Thankfully, Dahyun had never had to brave that storm for longer than a day. 

“No one,” Dahyun said. “Not yet.” 

Chaeyoung’s brow rose. “Ah ha.”

“Ah ha?” she repeated. “How does that bring you more enlightenment than it does me?”

The goddess of fortune smiled. “You’re not angry at them, but at yourself.” Another shrug. “Not sure if that’s a good thing or not for you, but that’s what it is.”

“That was actual wisdom I heard.” Dahyun frowned at her. “Mina’s really been rubbing off on you.” 

Chaeyoung flushed. “I’d like to think I was already wise, thank you very much.” 

“Did she confirm that? Or was that just the assumption you’re going off of.” 

She gave Dahyun’s arm a smack. “I’m definitely wiser than your sorry .” 

Dahyun shrugged. “You’re right there.” 

Chaeyoung’s brow rose. “Really?” 

She nodded. “Yep, really.” 

“Since when is your pride less than mine?” Chaeyoung laughed. Then she added, “I mean it’s good. Tzuyu’ll be proud, but still.” 

Was she less prideful as well? A god’s pride greatly outmatched that of mortals, or at least that was how it was supposed to be. If you did manage to be more prideful than a god or goddess, that was often an immediate sentence on your fate. Inevitably, you'd challenge godly authority, no matter if intentionally or not. No matter how forgiving the god was, you'd still end up being punished.

Nowadays, that pride was left untempered until the person died. Once they reached the Underworld, that pride could cost them a place in Elysium, or even Asphodel. Momo had once told her about a man who would have gone to Elysium for his severe lack of bad deeds. The moment his character had been doubted, he had accused the gods of being incompetent and ignorant. Hades had almost sent him to Tartarus for his insolence, but Momo had insisted he only go to the Fields of Asphodel. He'd be a spirit without identity, but one spared from the punishment of Tartarus. 

Perhaps his criticism might have been true, that was nothing Dahyun could know for certain. Yet she knew that he had been blinded by his pride, so much so that he had lost his caution. And it had cost him a place in paradise. 

Pride was dangerous. Having any less of it was good. Had Dahyun really lost some of hers?

“Maybe you're right,” Dahyun said. “I think it’s got something to do with the source of my confusion.” 

Chaeyoung clasped her on the shoulder. “Mina had that moment a couple decades ago.” 

There was a rush of cool air. Chaeyoung jumped. 

“Someone thought about me at least once.” Momo was grinning. Mina was standing beside her. 

“And you’ve mentioned me twice,” the goddess of wisdom crossed her arms, “hopefully in a good context.” 

Chaeyoung gaped at her. She was still starstruck each time she saw Mina. It seemed that her luck with circumstances didn’t extend to this particular goddess. 

Dahyun could only smile. “I’m in conflicted times,” she said. “Chaeng was telling me that you overcame such a thing.” 

“Uh,” Chaeyoung stammered, “yep. That it was a gradual thing you didn’t see coming, but a pretty great one when it kept going.” 

Mina raised an eyebrow. "You're referring to the time when I was an arrogant .” 

Dahyun snorted. “I think so.” 

Chaeyoung gasped. “You traitor.” 

“She’s my sister,” Dahyun replied. “I can say that kind of thing. Just like I can say Apollo’s a pain every hour of the day.” She looked up at the sun then, giving it her brightest smile. No ray of it blinded her. 

“I mean,” Momo started. “No wait, can't say that," she smiled sheepishly, "you’re both my sisters too.” 

Chaeyoung raised a hand. “People think we all have the same father,” she said. “Does that count?”

“They also say Sana was your mother,” Mina replied. “But you’ve never obeyed anything she’s said, so it’s either not true or you’ve been a terrible daughter.”

Dahyun hoped these words wouldn’t summon said goddess. 

Chaeyoung was blushing. “Let’s not go there.” She glared at Dahyun. “You started the whole family thing when you know exactly how messy that gets.” 

A mess where brother and sister could marry. Dahyun could see why Chaeyoung did not want to think much of it. Neither did she. She was no biologist or something like that, so she wasn't even sure how the biology of the gods worked. She didn't want to either. 

Dahyun winked instead. “Maybe that was the point. Would you like to explain what you meant when you mentioned Mina?”

“I think I understand,” Mina said, bounding over to them. She pecked Chaeyoung’s temple. “But it would be right, I began terrible and am now less terrible.” She frowned. “I’m not sure if this proves anything, but I did find Arachne in another life. She’s now in Elysium, known as Alvina.” Her brow furrowed further. “Still competitive, but not as intolerable."

Dahyun knew that Mina had come far, but not that far. Arachne had been a sore topic for centuries. It had been unfair how poorly Mina had treated her, all because she had been upstaged. Again, both had been prideful, but one of them had been a god. 

“So how does this relate to you?” Mina looked at Dahyun then, a quizzical look in her eyes. The one that made a person feel like each action was being studied. That hadn't changed. 

“Apparently I’m not as prideful as I once was,” Dahyun replied. “The last decade seems to have changed me more than the previous ones.” 

“Or they just made you aware of it,” Momo said. “Jihyo couldn’t believe what’d become of me. Twenty years ago, she was suddenly second-guessing every moment leading up to the,” she smiled slightly, “you know.”

Dahyun did. The Hades situation. It had been voluntary. Even if the two hadn’t been close before, Momo had become the queen of the Underworld and few were to say anything otherwise. Dahyun wondered how that might have been for her. Such a drastic change, but one where you received more control than ever before over your own life (and in Momo's case, the lives of others as well).

“She realised you were destined to become a ruler of death?” Chaeyoung suggested. 

Momo giggled. “That and she realised I actually have good people skills.” 

They let out a collective chuckle. Something which Momo seemed to find vaguely offensive. She pouted. 

“But anyway,” Chaeyoung suddenly said. “Our focus is this ball of moonshine. She’s changing and she doesn’t like it.” 

Dahyun frowned. “I never said that.”

The goddess of fortune leaned over to the one of wisdom, whispering loudly, “I found her taking her anger out on a poor piece of cardboard. It never stood a chance.”

“Is it because of what you’ve learned?” Mina asked. “I can see how the world of space would be daunting. Apollo never wants to hear about his star being made of hydrogen and helium. It takes away from the coolness factor.” She rolled her eyes. 

Dahyun shrugged. “Maybe. I’m not sure. I only know that these are not the most secure of times.” It seemed to not be so anywhere she looked. 

“Could it,” Momo trailed off, “maybe have something to do with other people too?” 

“I doubt it. As you said,” she nodded at Mina, “I’m in a state of doubt.” Then she reached for her bow. “I’ll be sticking with what makes sense.” 

Mina frowned, clearly in favour of Dahyun finding out what the cause was. 

And perhaps she was right.

Dahyun was quite sure Momo was correct. Maybe it was because of other people. Yet there it was again. She wasn’t ready in the slightest to admit such a thing. Not aloud, nor explicitly in her own head. 

She was making another bow. This one was of a bit of a harder wood. It was also too dry, but she could make a working bow out of it. And it could make for a good weapon if it was ever snapped. Against a great bear or chimera, her other broken bows only served as small splinters against them. This one would actually maim if it were used correctly. It was best to be prepared for any potential mistakes or slip-ups. Or other twists of fate that she had no idea were coming. 

A part of the wood dug itself into her hand. She cursed, pulling away. Splinters could be there for a bit. She’d pick them out later. Now, she’d just carve out the right shape. A good hour’s work away from the camp. Where everything was quiet. She could think. 

Her thoughts troubled her. It felt wrong to have so many of them running through her mind. And they seemed to be the wrong ones to have as well. 

Dahyun sheared off another layer. Her hand stung if she applied pressure at the wrong angle. 

She shouldn’t have been thinking about this person. She'd be going into space soon. The prospect of leaving the planet, of passing through the invisible barrier between the world and vacuum—that should have been at the forefront of her mind. It wasn’t. 

Dahyun cursed again. Why was her mind poisoned like this? Why were other thoughts invading it? She should've been focused on tempering her pride. She should've been wondering about what she wanted to do when she returned from space. 

How am I supposed to define myself?

By what you want.

What she wanted. It was a question she couldn't really understand, let alone answer. But she should have been able to. 

Dahyun closed her eyes. She couldn’t go long without becoming aware of how little she knew. The pits of ignorance were embedded in her mind just as the splinters were in her hand. They beckoned to be pulled out, but she didn't want to. She wasn’t like Mina. She couldn’t take the time out of her day to fill those gaps in her knowledge. She had a different purpose. She was meant to pursue a scent or a trail if it came to her attention. She wasn't supposed to wonder about wants or wishes. That wasn’t anything she concerned herself with. That wondering, that pursuit—it belonged to someone else. Someone like Mina. Someone like Sana. 

Sana. The mere thought of her didn’t bring irritation, but rather confusion. Dahyun knew the goddess was somewhere in her realm, but she hadn't ever bothered with finding out where. Yet now she wondered. 

Then she cursed again and drove the wooden stick deep into the ground. The damp soil gave way beneath her frustration. This would probably ruin the wood. That didn’t matter. She stepped on it, letting it sink in further. 

Sheathing her knife, Dahyun resisted the urge to swear again. It was bad form in a forest, especially if the dryads were listening to her. There were ones who liked her, others who seemed to barely tolerate her. She didn’t want to stoop too low in either of their eyes. She pulled out the block of wood. It would be good fuel for the fire. She gathered the shavings, the splinters in her hand still being tugged at now and then. They would also go into the fire. 

Someone coughed lightly.

Dahyun looked up. Sana leaned against a tree, wearing clothes fit for an extended walk through nature, as well as proper shoes. 

“I thought it’d be better if I didn’t sneak up on you this time," the goddess of love said. 

“Don’t lean against the trees. They usually don’t like that.” 

Sana smiled. “They seem to like me.” 

“Really–” Dahyun caught herself, “I should have known they’d take to you.” She straightened. “I don’t share your charm.” 

“My natural charm, you mean,” she corrected.

Dahyun paused before answering. The emphasis on that was strange. Then she remembered, she’d been referring to Sana’s ability to draw anyone to her, be it through her magic or the belt she possessed to make herself even more desirable. That magic didn't affect Dahyun. Nor did it with Mina and Hestia. It could tug at the hearts of all others, but not them. Aside from the questions that came with it, how did Sana remember the way she'd phrased that? It'd been a few years since then, hadn't it?

“I suppose so,” Dahyun said. She pocketed the wood shavings. “How is it here? Is it to your,” how would she phrase that, “liking?”

To her surprise, Sana sat down on the ground, beckoning Dahyun to do the same. Even more surprisingly, Dahyun sat down beside her. She still held her, now muddy, piece of wood. She laid it across her lap. 

“It’s wonderful,” Sana said. Her voice was quiet, full of an unfamiliar sincerity. “Everything I expected and more.” 

What had Sana been expecting? Why did the places they’d visited exceeded those expectations? More splinters settled into her mind. She really did know so little. 

“What’s this?” Sana took her hand, pulling it into her lap. 

Dahyun tried to tug it away. “Nothing, just a few splinters I got trying to make this thing useful,” she brandished the piece of wood, “but it didn’t work.” 

“So you’re just gonna leave these in here?” She lifted a hand and a pair of tweezers appeared. 

“Sana,” Dahyun pulled her hand away fully, “you don’t have to do this for me.” 

She gave her a look. “Fine.” The tweezers were pressed into her good hand. “Struggle with it.” A small chuckle. "It's not like I can help, or anything." There was bite in those words. 

Dahyun summoned a bottle of water and rinsed her hand. She patted it gently with a clean cloth. 

“I have a fair amount of experience with splinters, you know. It comes with my job,” Dahyun tugged at the first one, “well, the permanent one, not the other one.” The process stung. 

“But you’re so slow.” Sana’s voice was almost a whine. “I could get it done in a quarter of the time.”

“Have patience,” she replied. “If you intend to enjoy your time here fully, you must be patient. How else will you travel long distances?” She looked up at her. “I hope you’re not always teleporting from place to place.”

The response of a small smile told her that Sana was. 

“The next time we go to a mountain, you should either come along or explore that part after we leave.”

“You want me to go hiking?”

Dahyun smiled. “You’ve got to know how long a decent walk actually takes.” 

Sana let out a long sigh. “You’re kidding.”

“Not at all.” She was finished with the splinters. She summoned a roll of bandage and ointment. After cleaning it, she started covering the hand. All this trouble for splinters. It was laughable. Another result from her anger. From her confusion. 

“What was your plan for today?” Sana asked. 

Another unlikely question. “I’ve got pieces of wood back at camp. I wanted to see if I could find more out here, but that’s unlikely.” Dahyun looked at the wood. It had some of her blood on it. Theirs was gold, a strange sight. When she was among the humans, she did have red blood. An illusion. It was a rare occurrence for her to bleed, but there had been one or two accidents where a bit had been shed. If someone were to have seen a single drop of gold, they would have been very confused. 

“So you’re just making more bows?” The other goddess’s tone was unclear. It was either humorous or disapproving. Dahyun couldn’t tell. “You have more than enough already.” 

“Each one is slightly different than the other,” Dahyun replied. “I’ve made different modifications now and then to see if there is a change. And they’re always improving.” 

“Don’t the old ones go to waste then?” 

She shook her head. “They’re never wasted, remember? They're necessary for the rest to be better,” she said. “And the others can practice with them. A few times I've gave bows away. Ones of old wood.” She traced along the muddy ridges, scraping out a bit of wood here and there. 

The curators had been in absolute awe. Her old bows became relics. Dahyun didn’t understand why. They had come from 'Ancient Greece', yes, but she'd seen it herself. To her it was nothing special, but to others, that period was usually fascinating. Many times had she told stories around the fire that were distant memories to her, but incredibly interesting for the hunters. 

And now she had objects and weapons from hundreds of years ago. New to her, but old and valuable to mortals. In a thousands of years, a bow she made now would also become a relic. The passage of time was so important to mortals. They tried to retain the past, cherish the present, and hope for the future. For gods, time was time. Sometimes it was even a nuisance. 

“What’s the matter?” Sana asked. She took Dahyun’s hands in her own. The motion felt so natural. She didn't even think to pull away. 

Had the goddess asked her a question while Dahyun had been thinking? Or had she waited for Dahyun to continue speaking?

“Nothing,” Dahyun said. 

She frowned. “You’re lost in thought. You don’t do that often.” 

Dahyun laughed. “You’re saying I’m not usually thoughtful?”

“No.” Sana’s expression smoothed over. A pensive edge came over her eyes. “You’ve been thinking a lot lately.”

Lately. A funny word to use. For humans that meant the past few days, maybe weeks if you stretched it out enough. For them it encompassed years. 

Lately also implied that she'd been different before. Change in a god whose skin never wrinkled, whose hair never grew gray, unless those changes were induced. 

Sana kept speaking. “Is that why you're working yourself bloody with no end in sight?”

“Not bloody,” Dahyun said, avoiding the goddess’ eyes. “Only until I sleep well.”

“And what happened to my astronaut? I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to sleep well for that.” The tone was teasing, but not malevolent. Then it became more serious. “But what is the matter?”

“You don’t know?” she looked up, “I would’ve thought—“ She caught herself. If Sana didn’t know what she was talking about, then there was little use in letting her figure it out. “Nothing important,” she corrected herself. “You wouldn’t care.” 

Sana flinched. “Why say that?” 

Dahyun briefly wondered why she looked hurt. “Because it’s nothing to wonder about. It’s something very unlike myself,” she said. “Something that plagues my mind, but should disappear after some proper contemplation and meditation.” Just as water and bandages could do for her hand. 

Sana scoffed. “When have you ever meditated?” 

It was the distraction she needed to give Sana—an escape for whatever waters their conversaiton had been nearing. “Never,” Dahyun admitted. “But I can try.” 

“Or you just hunt and go for long walks,” Sana said with a smile. “That’s mediation enough for you.” 

“Maybe, but it’s nothing for you to worry about. And I mean no offence to you in saying that.”  

Sana’s eyes grew serious. “Do you know why I might?” she asked. “Take offence?”

“I only know that you did.” Dahyun shook her head. “But I wouldn’t know why.” 

“No,” Sana said. “You wouldn’t.” It was a very familiar tone, one that drove a new question into Dahyun's head. 

Dahyun found her grip on Sana’s hands tightening slightly. “Don’t disappear this time. Explain to me what you mean.” 

The goddess of love looked very surprised then. She did not disappear. 

“I would think,” Sana began. opened, then closed again. At a loss for words? “That you and I are—have become people who care enough about the other to want to know what bothers them.” 

“You mean friends?” In the context of Sana, the word felt foreign to her. 

The response was very hurried. “No.”

“Oh?” Dahyun felt the beginnings of disappointment. What were they then? Another question to think about. She didn't want to. 

“I mean,” Sana frowned, “I meant you—we’re something similar, but nothing to describe as a friendship.” She tilted her head to the side. “Does that make sense?” 

“No.” And it didn't have to. 

Sana sighed. “Then at least know that I do care about what troubles you, Dahyun.”

The words were surprising, to say the least. 

Dahyun thought through the phrasing, wondering for a moment if this was a ploy. If it were, that would make everything much simpler. It might be hurtful, but she'd prefer it to the plethora of questions she now possessed. 

Another sigh. “Then don’t tell me.” Sana let go of Dahyun’s hands. She started to get to her feet. 

“I’m changing,” Dahyun muttered. “And I don’t know how just yet.” 

“Changing how?” A small smile. “As in modernising?” 

“That,” Dahyun nodded, “and as you pointed out, I'm more thoughtful. Someone else told me I'm less prideful.” She shrugged. “It’s a complete one-eighty, as the mortals say.” 

“Do you want it to go to three-sixty?” Sana asked. She had sat back down, her legs crossed. She’d fully angled herself towards Dahyun. Listening. 

Three-sixty. Back to where she had been. What was that point exactly? The one where she was willing to leave a woman to a life of loneliness just because she had broken her vows? She thought of doing so to Minnie or Kendra now. The mere thought was revolting. 

Dahyun shook her head. “Perhaps two-hundred, or a bit more.”

She looked at Sana a bit closer then. She could still see her despite it being much darker now. Her magic of always being seen. One that Dahyun would never want herself. A hunter needed some sort of cover. Deep thought required a place of solace, be it a long path or a simple tent. It required solitude. At least it did for Dahyun. Except for this moment. Sana was right there, but Dahyun could still think. If anything, she was thinking more.

Dahyun decided she'd let one question be spoken aloud. “Do you think I’ve changed for the better?” 

The words struck the silence between them. They were words that could very well tear it apart. They could break whatever peace existed between the two of them.

Almost immediately, more splinters of doubt and confusion sank into her. What if Sana’s distaste for her had never faded? What if it was only veiled by feigned contemplation and sincerity? Dahyun was still so uncertain about the goddess of love. She still didn't know why they had spoken as much as they had. She still did not know why her thoughts had begun to revolve around this goddess as much as they had. 

Sana’s eyes flitted between Dahyun’s. Dahyun was familiar with this look as well. She'd seen it when Sana had looked up at the night sky, looking up at it as though an answer were hidden in the darkness between the stars. 

“Do you not know?” Dahyun asked. How was she to expect Sana to know her better than Chaeyoung, Mina or Momo did? Apollo belonged to that list as well. She'd been naive. Sana probably knew her as well as her father did.

The silence continued. Sana still seemed to be at a loss for an answer. 

“Well,” Dahyun didn’t hide her disappointment, “I guess it was my turn to confuse you with words.” She stood. “It’s also my turn to leave.” The skin of her arms grew even more pale. She was being a hypocrite in disappearing, but she didn't want to feel Sana’s eyes on her as she walked away. 

Sana shot up then. “Wait,” she said. “Stay.” She almost looked afraid. "Please."

Please. Dahyun was too stunned to disappear. Sana had asked something of her that was not something crude, a favour or related to Dahyun’s realm. 

“Why did you ask me that?” Sana asked. “Why do you think I’d know?”

The question helped dissuade her shock. Sana was as doubtful as Dahyun was when it came to this. Or at least it seemed so. 

Dahyun smiled. “I would think that you and I were at the point where you'd know the answer,” she shook her head, “but I assumed too much.” 

Sana winced. 

As Dahyun's thoughts began to stray to the camp, she could not look away from Sana. The other goddess was staring at her, wearing an expression Dahyun had thought she’d never see. There was doubt, as well as pain.

The scene vanished before her eyes. She was back in the camp. 

Dahyun let out a small sigh of relief. Her disappointment hadn't faded, nor had the confusion. Both had strengthened. 

Sana would never let herself look like that, not even if she wanted to look weak. The goddess was filled to the brim with confidence that others could only envy. That meant she never wanted to give the impression that she lacked said confidence. 

And yet, Dahyun could not rid her mind of Sana's expression. 

The goddess of love’s eyes had betrayed her. They'd revealed something that Dahyun should never have seen. 

Vulnerability. 

_____

Author's Note

Another pure Dahyun chapter. Her space story-line still comes in, but it is very much sidelined. With it came the bigger seed of doubt for Dahyun. 

As for the myths I referenced, if it was done too briefly, I'll just give a quick summary (and am probably not doing the myth justice). 

Arachne challenged Athena's prowess at weaving, as she boasted that she was the better of the two. There was a contest held between the two. When Athena inspected Arachne's work, she found that it was exceptional. That fact infuriated the goddess of wisdom and she transformed Arachne into a spider. With a brief Wikipedia search, I also saw that Arachne had made a tapestry with images that made fun of the gods. So the punishment was partially due to the insult taken with that, as well as Athena's pride. 

If you've any other questions or comments, I'd love to hear (read) them! 

Thank you for reading and I hope you're doing well in this time. Stay healthy! 

See you next chapter.