"Sorry, sorry, time's tight. We had to rush the road a bit."
The sun-touched man holding a lyre lifted the curtain. As he spoke, his fingers unconsciously plucked a string, the clear note carrying genuine apology.
Atalanta looked down at the head that had landed in her lap. Her face flushed red. She pushed him away in embarrassment; the initial force was abrupt, but at the very end her strength softened, turning the shove into a steadying touch as she angled her heated cheeks aside.
To break the awkward silence, Samael cleared his throat. His eyes fell on a scroll that had slipped to the floor from Atalanta's knees. He picked it up and asked casually,
"What are you reading, Big Sis? Looks like you were really into it."
Atalanta exhaled slowly, feeling the heat in her face ease a little. She cast a glance toward the driver's seat outside before answering with a calm tone.
"Nothing much. Just some fundamentalist manuscripts I borrowed from Orpheus."
Orpheus, the one driving the carriage, was from Areopagus just like the god of healing, Asclepius, and handled the task of delivering divine decrees. The gifted singer's father was Apollo, god of light, herding, and music, while his mother was Calliope, the Muse who governed the arts. That made him and the god of healing half-brothers. It was also said that the Orphic faith had been founded and spread by this remarkable bard.
Hearing this, Samael couldn't help sounding surprised.
"Orphic fundamentalist manuscripts? What are you reading that for?"
Fundamentalist religious texts were usually equated with conservatism, old ideas, and rigid doctrine—hardly entertaining reading for a journey.
"I just feel like, as your companion, I don't know enough about you. I thought I'd take the chance to learn something."
Atalanta shot Samael a light glance that looked nonchalant, though her fingers curled slightly at her knees betrayed the effort she put into keeping calm. Clearly, after all that had happened, the huntress was trying to understand and accept a new presence in her life.
Samael froze for a heartbeat, a strange mix of satisfaction and guilt stirring in him. He wasn't a real Orphic believer at all. If he slipped up, Atalanta might very well get angry and beat him senseless.
"Ahem, well… learning more about it isn't a bad thing. The Orphic respect for nature is pretty close to the values of the hunting goddess anyway."
Still coughing lightly as he gave excuses, Samael opened the manuscript and skimmed it at high speed so he wouldn't get caught off guard if she asked anything about it.
But after a rapid read-through, his expression twisted completely. His face shifted into something oddly torn between laughter and despair, as if his worldview had detonated on the spot.
"Mm. Big Sis, yeah… you should really take your time with this. I'll leave you to it."
A few breaths later, having finished the entire manuscript, Samael carefully returned it to Atalanta's lap and obediently shrank into a corner of the carriage.
Only after seeing him close his eyes as if dozing off did Atalanta finally relax her tense posture. She quietly reopened the scroll, reading intently as patience and focus settled over her expression.
In truth, the moment Samael shut his eyes, he urgently linked to Areopagus, his expression shifting rapidly.
"What exactly is the Orphic religion?"
"What?"
The Ancient Serpent drew in a long breath and, keeping his tone as steady as possible, began recounting the contents of the original fundamentalist manuscript.
"In the beginning, when all was vast and indistinct, the world was in a state of chaotic disorder. The sun had not yet been born, the moon did not yet exist, and sea, land, and sky were tangled together as one. The oceans had no waves, the land had no firmness, and the sky held no light. But within that mass of chaos, sea, land, and sky clashed—hot against cold, soft against hard, dry against wet, light against heavy. After enough struggle, change occurred. The primordial elements began to separate: earth and sky were divided by a horizon; land and ocean became distinct; pure qi rose away from murky qi."
"The world's chaotic appearance shifted, forming a basic order in which all things could coexist. The lighter essence rose to form a blue sky, settling in the highest place. The heavier essence gathered into the deep black earth. Between sky and land drifted the ever-present air. Water swirled and churned into waves, wrapping around the land. And beneath everything, at the lowest depths underground, was the darkest place of all, called Tartarus."
"When heaven and earth parted and sea and land took shape, the first primordial goddess emerged from the chaos. Finding no place to stand in the unformed void, she swept her hand and split the sky from the sea. Dancing over the rolling waves, she rode a powerful southern wind forward. When she reached the sky above the Aegean Sea, she yearned to control her own direction. Spinning rapidly, she reached out and seized a passing north wind. With a rub and twist between her divine fingers, the north wind transformed into a great serpent, Ophion, coiling like a winding river."
"At that moment, the serpent Ophion was cold and stiff. So the goddess Eurynome danced fiercely, twisting and turning him in her grasp until warmth filled his body. As he grew warm, he slowly began to regenerate and expand, swelling with each gust of wind. His skin gradually turned a burning jet-black."
"The serpent coiled around the goddess, and she conceived. The pregnant goddess transformed into a swift white dove and settled atop the waves. After forty-nine days, she laid a shining cosmic egg. She then ordered the serpent to coil around the egg seven times. With a thunderous crack, the cosmic egg split in two. The halves rolled atop the waves for a time, and all things were born: the sun, moon, stars, earth, mountains, rivers, plants, and trees. Afterward, the goddess created a pair of giants—one male and one female."
"The male was named Uranus, and the female was Gaia…"
In Samael's low and measured voice, this imaginative alternate creation myth unfolded like an ancient tapestry.
"Oh, that one…"
Athena blinked as if recalling something, then smiled brightly, her tone carrying clear pride.
"I wrote it!"
Samael choked on a cough, his expression shifting wildly. His voice came out strained and oddly stiff.
"So, Ophion and Eurynome refer to…"
Athena clapped her hands with a crisp sound, her voice playful, her expression full of meaning.
"Mhm, that's right. That would be you and Tina.
Or perhaps I should call you by your proper titles: the Goddess of Chaos and Order—Eurynome, and the Primordial Serpent—Ophion.
Welcome back, our god, our king."