Greetings. I am Athena, daughter of the all-knowing Metis, and the almighty Zeus, rain god and wielder of the thunderbolt. My birth was rather unconventional to say the least. I emerged fully-grown and clad in armor from my father’s head. Fearing that my mother would bear him a son mightier than him and with the advisory of Mother Earth and Father Sky, Zeus consumed Metis while I began forming in the watery depths of her womb. As the story goes, my mother began fashioning a robe and helmet for me inside Zeus’s stomach. The hammering of metal drove my father to insanity and caused him tremendous migraines. My half-brother Hephaestus could not bear his anguish and split Zeus’s skull open. Much like a chick from an egg, I hatched.

Although predominantly associated with war, I am also the goddess of justice, skill, art, industry, and wisdom, the latter of which is undoubtedly inherent from my mother. Contrary to the popular belief that I hunger for bloodshed and battles, I am simply the defender of my land. As a matter of fact in many accounts of poetry, such as The Iliad, I am commonly credited for my reason and purity. I am an agreeable goddess if not agitated. I have a precious pet owl and have sustained a long-term friendship with Nike, the goddess of victory.

In a brief turn of events, I went from Zeus’s most feared to favorite child. I am often treated to the use of his weaponry, the Ageis, a thundercloud shield, and his infamous thunderbolt. In many a statue, I proudly showcase these items.

Those familiar with mythology are acquainted with the famed quarrel between my uncle, Poseidon, and I. Both fond of a certain Grecian city and eager to claim it, we sought of a way to settle the dispute diplomatically. Finally, it was decided that whoever bore the finest gift to the people, would acquire the city. Leading a procession of curious civilians, we climbed up the Acropolis. Poseidon turbulently struck the side of the cliff with his trident and out of the ground sprung a well. However, as awed as the people were, the water that leapt from the spring was salty like Poseidon’s sea, futile to their needs. Always observant, I gave them the gift of an olive tree. It provided food, oil, and wood. Needless to say, the city, now known as Athens, was mine.