Athena's General Reincarnated in Another World

Katherine Evenhart:

The scent of damp earth still lingered in the lab. I knelt beside the seed, fingers lightly brushing its cracked surface. She was sleeping. Even without movement, I could feel her presence—the soft sound of her breathing echoing gently in the back of my mind.

"Please… let her be safe," I murmured.

I pressed my hand to the shell, channeling magic inward, searching for anything out of balance. No fractures. No magical distortion. She was whole.

Extending roots beneath the floor, I coaxed them gently around the seed. They would draw nutrients from the soil, stabilize the surrounding energies. Protect her.

"Why are you cracking…?" I whispered, more to myself than to her. "This only happens when a seed is about to awaken. But you're not in the ground. I never planted you."

My fingers brushed the surface again. Still asleep. Still silent.

"Maybe during the next break… I'll place you in the castle gardens. Maybe… my magic's starting to weaken."

I stepped back slowly, watching her for a while longer. That fragile sense of reassurance—it was enough. Just knowing she was still resting safely made it easier to breathe again.

I lost myself in the rhythm of routine after that—an anchor I'd learned to trust. Pages turning. The scent of dried herbs and reagents in the air. Familiarity wrapped around me like a cocoon.

For a while, the world beyond the lab didn't exist.

Until I heard footsteps in the corridor.

"I'm coming in—tell your daughters not to kill me," called a voice I knew all too well.

"Margie?" I looked toward the door. "You're back already?"

The door creaked open. Margaery leaned on the frame, her hair barely held in place by a loose braid, stray strands escaping everywhere. Deep circles under her eyes told the real story—a journey too long and too hard. She yawned without shame.

"Got back a few minutes ago. Just stopping by to say hi before I collapse. We'll talk properly in the morning."

"Of course. Rest well. Let me know if you need anything."

She nodded, gave a small wave, and vanished into the hallway.

I returned to my desk, took a breath, tried to settle back in.

***

A soft knock broke the silence again. One of the maids peeked in.

"Lady Katherine… Lady Adrihna has arrived. With Queen Siofna."

My heart stuttered. This late? With the queen?

"What would they want at this hour?" I kept my voice measured. "Did you notify Margaery or Chloe? They're the ones who should receive the queen."

"The queen specifically requested to speak with you, my lady. She said it's an unofficial visit. The others are either resting or occupied."

An unofficial visit… from the Queen of the Elves?

I closed my notebook. A monarch's request wasn't something you ignored—especially not her.

"Escort them to the small salon," I said, keeping my tone even. "I'll be there shortly."

The maid bowed and stepped away. I remained still for a moment, letting the anxiety settle. My heartbeat hadn't slowed. Not even a little.

***

The smaller sitting room in the manor was modest, but not without intention—antique cushions neatly arranged, bookshelves lining the walls, and a hearth still warm from a recent fire. When I stepped inside, Adrihna and Queen Siofna were already seated, their silhouettes framed by the soft, ambient glow of the lanterns. A tray of tea and small pastries sat on the center table, untouched but thoughtfully placed.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you at this hour," Siofna said gently.

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"Not at all," I replied, keeping my tone poised.

Still, I couldn't help the faint tension in my shoulders. It felt like sitting at a family gathering… without knowing exactly what role I was meant to play.

The queen picked up a cup of tea. "Haiten's in another meeting—this time with an Inquisitor. Likely about the dungeon." She paused, gave a soft, almost self-conscious laugh. "But forgive me. I didn't come here to bring that up."

Her eyes flicked to Adrihna.

"Where's Nathan?" Adrihna asked.

"In his room," I said quietly. "He's been spending a lot of time with Cylla these last few days."

Siofna nodded, her expression shadowed with something close to sorrow. "They've all been through so much. All of our children… dragged into things no one that age should ever have to face."

I took a sip of the tea, letting the warmth settle in my hands, not answering. Part of me still didn't know how to act around her. A queen, yes—but also a mother. A woman cloaked in layers of secrets that maybe even we weren't meant to unravel.

"But that's not why I came," she said softly. "Not to burden you with any of that."

I set the cup down carefully. "Then why… did you want to speak with me in private? I don't hold any formal authority. I'm not involved in state affairs."

"You're family," she said, with a faint smile. "More family than I am, in some ways."

Her gaze turned thoughtful, then amused, as she shifted in her seat. "Did you know I used to be an assistant to Tiffania's family?" she said, her tone light. "Before I married into the royal line. I understand your situation better than you might think. From servant… to queen. And even now, I still see myself more as a caretaker than a ruler."

She laughed quietly, but there was truth in it—deep and vulnerable beneath the practiced ease. Then she reached into her bracelet—a shimmer of storage magic—and pulled out something folded, aged, and carefully preserved. She held it out to me.

It was an old document, sealed and crisp like enchanted parchment, with a faint scent of damp earth clinging to it.

"What is this…?" I asked, instinctively lowering my voice.

"A message," she said. "Passed down through the Rhiannon bloodline. And through those chosen to guard the Saint's lineage—Tiffania, and those who came before her."

I took it with care. It felt wrong in my hands—wrong in the sense that it didn't belong to this era. Its weight wasn't physical, but… temporal. Ancient.

"This seal…" I whispered, tracing the design. "It's a tree?"

Siofna nodded. "It's her symbol. The words inside were written by the Great Mother herself. The contents have been kept secret for generations. Only a select few were ever meant to read them. Only your family."

I started to unfold the paper—but a sharp pain struck behind my eyes. Sudden. Piercing.

I winced and clutched my temple, struggling to breathe through the pressure blooming in my skull. "I… I'm sorry," I murmured. "I didn't mean to be rude, I just… it's too much. All of this. Too much at once."

"It's alright. I understand," the queen said as she gently took the document back, not a trace of frustration in her tone. "Forgive me if I seem too eager. You have no idea what these last ten years have been like for us. The number of questions I threw at Adrihna… I think I nearly drove her mad."

"N-never, Your Majesty," Adrihna replied quickly, flustered.

Siofna smiled, but the exhaustion lingered beneath her expression—a quiet fatigue only those who've carried too much for too long could recognize.

"These words... they're a testament," she said, her voice softer now. "The goddess's final message. A prophecy passed down through generations of your family. It's been studied for centuries, yet no one's ever fully understood it. But the prophecy is clear: the day the message is finally deciphered... that's when the Great Mother will return."

She looked straight at me.

"And with everything that's happened these past few days—what we've lost, and what might still be coming—what we need more than anything... is hope."

She began to rise, as if ready to take her leave.

"I promise I won't trouble you further."

"You're not troubling me," I said quickly, motioning for her to sit back down. "You've just arrived. It must be hard... being a queen and having no one to confide in. Always needing to be the unshakable one."

"Something like that," she replied, her smile faltering.

I reached out, hesitating for a moment before taking her hand. She didn't pull away.

"It's the same for me. I have to stay strong for my son... but the truth is, I'm scared too."

We didn't speak for a while. Just sat there in silence—no crowns, no roles. Just two mothers, quietly bracing for whatever came next.

Eventually, Siofna lowered herself back into the chair. The air between us had shifted. The formality was gone. What remained was something simpler, more real.

"That document... has it truly existed since that time?" I asked. "Is it the original?"

"It looks nice, I know," she said, leaning in a little. "But this is just a copy. The original is sealed away, protected under layers of enchantment. Even so... losing it would be a serious offense."

"Would they imprison a queen for that?"

"I really hope not."

We both laughed—just a little.

I turned the document over in my hands, eyes drifting back to the tree symbol etched into the parchment.

"So your people believe in all this?"

"Our people," she corrected gently. "Yes. We believe the Great Mother will one day return."

I scratched my chin, thoughtful. "But if she truly was a goddess… what happened to her? I'm still trying to grasp this idea of beings who can live forever."

She didn't answer. Maybe she didn't know. Maybe she wasn't allowed to say.

I inhaled deeply and looked at the text again. The headache came back. Sharper this time. But I didn't look away. Out of respect. Out of stubbornness.

The handwriting seemed almost alive, the letters pulsing faintly in the warm lamplight.

And slowly, silently, I began to read.

"To my family, I leave my longing's flame,

A warmth to hold when they call my name.

To my children, joy I send,

A light to guide them without end.

To my true son, a place to arrive,

The path where only the faithful live.

But to my future self, unknown and deep,

I leave a will she alone must keep."