Sometimes you have to be apart from the people you love, but that doesn't make you love them any less.
Sometimes you love them more.
– Nicholas Sparks
-X-
one.

chaos
noun
complete disorder and confusion
-X-
Auburn hair and pale white skin. Shell pink lips over pearl teeth. A smile that infilled your body with such peace.
The beautiful woman knelt at the foot of a gnarled tree. She opened her lips and wailed like a bean sidhe, a glacial wind tearing from her lips, swirling around in a miniature storm.
"Careful, Irene." The voice was male, and amused. "Much more, and you yourself will disturb your precious peace."
"Ares," the woman – Irene – greeted tightly. "What brings you here?"
"You," he answered without hesitance. "Your turmoil, my dear Opposition, is a like a siren's song to me. What, pray tell, has caused you such agony?"
Another unearthly shriek tore its way out of the deceptively frail looking goddess.
Ares looked slightly concerned at his Opposition's actions. Irene was the goddess of peace, and like Eris was the epitome of Discord, and he was the true bloodlust that overtook soldiers during war, she embodied her element – her sphere of power – effortlessly.
Now, she looked almost...unhinged.
"Irene, are you well?"
Irene laughed bitterly. Her loose, skin covering dress fell away, revealing a pale body. Normally Ares would have done one of two things – stared like his dreams had just come true, or run like his mother was coming after him – but he just gaped at the goddess in front of him.
Scars and welts crisscrossed over her body, as if she had been flogged. More worryingly, her ichor wasn't golden – it was black, like coal tar.
"What happened?"
"You happened." Irene sounded weary. "Can't you see it, War? I'm becoming the next Pan. My sphere is almost all gone. Every marital dispute, every war – every tiny bit of dissonance that you and Eris work into the world – I can no longer combat it all. You have won Ares. I am very rapidly becoming no more."
The goddess looked back down at her lap, where her tightly fisted hands lay. Slowly, she uncurled them.
Golden-black blood flowed from them, rivulets twining down her arms in a fascinating facade of elegance. Ares stared, morbidly gleeful at what was happening to his age old Opposition, but at the same time, he was horrified.
Balance, damnable balance, must be kept. As much as Ares loved bloodshed, discord, and war, too much would bring about the end of the world – yea, the end of Olympus.
Irene was needed.
Oblivious to his thoughts, Irene continued. "I am always going to be the first blood in any war. It is just the way things are. I am ready to let go. Congratulations, Ares...you have won." She sighed in a way that revealed just how tired she truly was. "I just want it to end."
It was Irene's voice that did it – the way her words and phrasings formed, the inflections on her vowel and the way she stretched her consonants – it was all from the old country.
Irene was a very traditional goddess – she'd never had a big modern following. Her sphere of power was directly based in the old kingdom – his once home, the place Gaea had tried to destroy.
"The kid's dead," he said abruptly.
Irene, who was waiting patiently for him to deliver the death blow, blinked slowly in confusion. "What?"
Ares shifted uncomfortably. "Percy Jackson. He's dead."
Irene lips parted. "Will Zeus –"
"Put him in the sky? No."
There were hefty undertones in that one, two-lettered word. "What is it you are trying to say, War?"
"The Maiden came by today," he said, speaking as fast as possible. "She gave very specific instructions. Perseus Jackson was to be sent to Elysium. No further contact was to be made with him – not even by Hades, or that emo son of his."
Irene frowned – possibly confused at the meaning of the word 'emo', possibly confused at why contact had been barred.
The Maiden was Atropos, the second Fate.
The Fates were technically one woman split in three – each represented a stage of a woman's life – Atropos, the Maiden; Clotho, the Mother; and Lachesis, the Crone.
For one to appear, and simply command that no communication was to be made to a humble demigod's spirit –
"The Moirai are up to something," Irene said with narrowed eyes. "They would have no other reason than this to stop Perseus Jackson from reaping his just rewards."
Ares grinned. "What is it you intend to do, Irene?" he queried, before snapping his fingers and vanishing to Irene did not know where.
"My intentions?" Irene whispered. "They do not matter, for they are not truly mine. Even though I am a goddess, the Sisters Three control my actions as surely as they control those of mortals and demigods." A smile formed on her face – a disturbing mix of macabre happiness and ecstasy. "What would they do," she wondered, "if their circle was broken, all because of one moment of defiance?"
-X-
When War is desired by Peace,
When Discord seeks to smooth Dissention,
When the Dead do not stay so,
What does happen to Fate?
-X-
I will never let you fall, I'll stand up for your forever;
I'll be there for you through it all;
Even if saving you sends me to Heaven.
-X-
"Annabeth, please; you are being ridiculous."
"Am I, Thalia? Am I really?"
"Yes. Percy wouldn't want you to do this..."
The daughter of Zeus' voice trailed off into silence at the tortured look the younger child of Wisdom shot her way.
"Don't. Say. His. Name. Not like that – like it can stop me from doing this. If he was here, he'd tell me, 'do whatever you want, Annabeth. It's your choice, and I won't hold it against you.' Though maybe not in so many words. I want this, Thalia."
"No," Thalia corrected. "You want to die."
Annabeth flinched.
"Not even going to deny it, I see."
"Why should I deny the truth?"
Annabeth's chin was tilted back at an incredibly defiant angle. Her eyes flashed, almost exactly like the storms clouds Percy had once thought them akin to.
Ahh, Percy. The son of Poseidon was the cause of Annabeth's grief. During the final battle of the second Giant war, eighteen bullets had torn directly into his upper ribcage.
Thalia had been there. She had seen it all.
-X-
Screams of fear, of anger, of agony – they rent the air apart with their tenors.
"Annabeth!"
This scream nearly stopped Thalia's heart cold. Ducking skilfully underneath an Earthborn's overextended arms, she manoeuvred the blunt end of her spear in such a way that it bashed into the monster's sensitive groin, effectively finishing it off.
Once she was sure it was dead – and would stay that way – she whirled in the direction the scream had come from.
The battleground was complete and total chaos – blood was everywhere, staining everything with red and permeating the air with the scent of rust.
Thalia's eyes finally settled on what she was looking for.
The aptly named 'Percabeth' – dubbed so by the Aphrodite cabin (and really, it was pointless to fight it – not only did it fit, as they were nearly one person, it was fun to watch them squirm in embarrassment) was struggling against a platoon of enemy demigods.
(they disgusted Thalia. They made her ashamed to be the same species as them)
Well, really, it was Annabeth who was struggling. Tartarus had sapped her strength to the point where her ankle hadn't healed at all, but had gotten worse. When they had been pulled out of the Pit, bloodied and hunted, Apollo had even voiced the hesitant opinion that it might never heal properly.
Percy was screaming her name, trying to get her attention – which Thalia thought was stupid, Annabeth was already having a hard time; so get in there and help her, Seaweed Brain (her mental voice sneered the nickname).
But then the huntress saw what was causing Percy such grief.
"Annabeth!" she screamed.
By some miracle, the daughter of Athena heard her.
But it was still too late.
One of the enemy demigods gestured to his or her brethren – they were wearing masks, the cowards – and they fell back as the one that had gestured pulled out a semi-automatic, and fired point blank at Annabeth Chase.
To Thalia, the world slowed down infinitesimal amount, but it was still not enough to reach the girl who had once been her charge in time.
Luckily – or maybe not, considering how it ended – a certain son of Poseidon with both the motive and means to save Annabeth dove in front of her, quick as anything.
"No!" Annabeth screamed – begged – pleaded, really.
But the bastard didn't listen, and Thalia winced as he, and two other demigods, emptied a few shots into Perseus Jackson.
The resounding cry – (no) – that echoed throughout the battlefield was deafening in its volume; earth-shattering in its grief, pain and disbelief.
For Percy Jackson was dead.
And no force on earth could save him now.
-X-
"Just call Artemis for me. Please."
Annabeth was begging. That was wrong, deeply and irrevocably wrong.
"But why, Anna?" Thalia was deeply confused. "Why do you want to take the pledge? You've never shown any interest in joining the Hunt before."
And this, Thalia knew, was true. Even when she had been thirteen and taken that pamphlet, she had never seriously been considering it. Her plan had probably been something worthy of her mother – place the pamphlet somewhere Percy could see it; he would get panicked and admit that he liked her.
"Because I love him, Thalia."
Love, Thalia noted. Not 'loved'.
"And because, after all we've been through, I owe him this much."
"What?"
Annabeth's eyes sparkled with tears unshed. "He died for me, Thalia."
"Yeah, because he loved you."
"And I owe it to him to make sure I never love another." Annabeth's voice was stern as anything Thalia had ever heard.
"Please, Anna, don't do this while you’re grieving. You're not thinking straight –"
"I'm thinking as straight as a ruler," she snapped out. "I've made my decision. Call Artemis."
-X-
Use me as you will, pull my strings just for a thrill;
And I know I'll be okay, though my skies are turning grey.
-X-
The Underworld was not how Percy remembered it.
For one thing, though the colour-scape of the place – black, white and grey, like a silent movie – left something to be desired, it was quite clearly a beautiful wooded glade – trees, wildflowers, bubbling brook and all. Not at all like the dreary cavern the son of Poseidon knew the Realm of the Dead to be.
"No, this is not your uncle's realm, Perseus."
Percy whirled, and saw a woman sitting against one of the larger oaks in the glade.
He was sure she hadn't been there before.
"I am dead, aren't I?" he queried, seeking clarification. Before the woman answered, he glanced down at himself, and took in the clean, whole, state of his clothes. Not a single rip, or tear, marred the material. Not a single black stain – blood – touched the weave of the cloth.
"Yes," he murmured, still seemingly talking to himself. "I remember dying."
The woman, who looked like a starlet from a forties' movie – she even had a mole drawn in above her lip – smiled. "Yes, Perseus, you are dead."
(Percy felt this woman was being way to calm about this fact.)
"Who are you?"
(But, try as he might, he could not muster any anger, or indignation.)
"I am Irene, goddess of Peace."
(Well, that would explain it.)
"Why did you bring me here? If I died, how come I'm not in the lines outside of Asphodel, awaiting Judgement?"
Percy felt he had a right to be mad, though he couldn't muster any form of a violent emotion now; not in the presence of this goddess.
Wasn't it bad enough that his life had been overruled by the gods? Must his afterlife be tainted by their meddling, too?
Irene's eyes darkened. "I did not bring you here, to my realm, to coerce you into anything," she assured him. "If you wish to go back to Hades', simply say so now. I will not keep you here against your will."
Percy hesitated, Irene's willingness to let him leave seeming suspicious to his mind.
Seizing this chance, Irene spoke quickly. "All I ask is that you simply hear me out."
He raised an eyebrow, but mentally sighed in resignation. His curiosity had already gotten the better of him; he wouldn't be able to resist hearing what Peace had to say.
Irene gestured gracefully to the grey grass in front of her. "Please, sit."
Percy sat.
As his legs came into contact with the grass, warmth thrummed through the ground, and tremors shook the world slightly.
(It felt kind of like a pulse)
From where he and Irene sat, colour flooded out, staining the land in its brilliance; though the goddess herself remained as plain as her realm had been.
He chose not to question it. If the goddess wished to look this way, who was he to question her?
As if hearing his thoughts, or maybe seeing the puzzlement in his eyes, Irene smiled, and said, "what does racism mean to you, Perseus?"
"Percy," he corrected reflexively.
His mind was buzzing. What had possessed the goddess to ask such a question?
"Er…" Words long ago spoken by Annabeth popped into his mind and he thanked his lucky stars – which had never given him to go on – for his incredible, brainy girlfriend. "Prejudice, discrimination, or antagonism directed at someone of a different skin tone, ethnicity, or cultural background, based on stereotyped beliefs."
"Yes. Like this, I am a blank slate. Changeable. Completely neutral. Much like my sphere of power."
Taking these words into consideration, Percy squinted at the deity in front of him.
After several minutes of staring, Percy realised, she had no truly distinct features. She could've been of oriental descent, could've been Swedish – hell, she could've been Puerto Rican, for all Percy knew – but at the same time, she could've been nothing. The only truly, obvious definite about her appearance was that she was female.
"I am the goddess of Peace," she said serenely. "I try to smooth over all conflicts. And I never start them. So, in the interest of keeping the Peace, I make my appearance as unbiased as I possibly can."
"Okay," Percy shifted awkwardly. "Was there a reason you called me here?"
Irene looked startled. "Oh, yes. My, I'd nearly forgotten." She pressed a palm to her head. "This war…all this pent up aggression and fear still flying around…I am afraid my mind might be going. I am certainly not what I used to be."
The goddess shifted. "Now, as to why I called you here, it is simple…I wish to make you my Champion."
Percy was silent. Also, confused. "Considering I'm dead, how do you propose I do this?"
"The Lethe," Irene said, in a tone meant to convey the maximum amount of duh per word.
"What about –"
"Annabeth?" Irene interrupted, her voice hard; eyes dark and fathomless, cold. "The girlfriend you've only though about once since dying, and even then, only for help with your academia?"
"Hey," Percy protested. "I've been a bit distracted, okay? And don't you dare tell me I don't love her, goddess or no, I love that girl so much that I died for her –"
Irene held a hand up. "Peace, Perseus," she said. "I was not trying to anger you. I was simply pointing out fact. Besides, this is probably the only way you are guaranteed to see Annabeth again."
"Why?"
Irene didn't answer.
Percy sighed. "What is it you wish me to do in my next life?"
Irene glowed, and flooded with colour, if only for a second. "I want you to help me break Fate."
-X-
"I turn my back on the company of men, and pledge my life, my soul, and my body to the service of the eternal maiden."
"I accept thy pledge, Annabeth Chase. You knelt here as a demigod child of Wisdom. Now, you rise, my sister."
-X-
The Lethe is Deep and Dark;
The Lethe is Dark and Deep.
It'll take away your memories;
It'll send you to sleep.
– Demigod children rhyme.
________________________________________

So pull the trigger, it never gets closer.
You want to start over, but never start over.
-X-
two.
________________________________________
ignorance
noun
lack of knowledge or information
-X-
"Desist, Irene." Juno glew with an angry light. "This plan of yours is madness."
"This plan of mine," Irene snapped back, "is what could save us all."
"And from what, exactly?" The Warner questioned, raising an eyebrow. "What enemy is going to attack Olympus next?"
"The same enemy that has been working against it from the beginning. Fate."
Juno pulled back, a startled laugh working its way out of her throat. "Mad. You've gone mad. You wish to challenge the Sisters Three?"
Peace nodded.
"This last war seems to have addled your mind beyond repair, Irene."
"I assure you, my mind is as intact as ever."
Juno was rather frustrated that Irene managed to keep her composure. According to Ares, she had been near absolute deterioration.
Juno had never really like Irene - she was too Greek a goddess. When the Heart-Flame had moved to Rome, she hadn't really accepted the fact that she was no longer Éireine - she was Pax; a much sterner goddess, a disciplinarian who killed those that didn't obey the laws and keep the peace.
Irene's lips twitched slightly, as if she was holding back a smile. "I never asked you to fight with me, Juno. Also, did you hear me asking for your permission?"
Juno bared her teeth in a viscous snarl. "I. Am. Your. Queen," she spat out.
"Peace knows no ruler," Irene said serenely. "I belong to everybody. I'm a true people person."
"But why are you doing this? Your job is to keep the peace. This isn't keeping the peace!"
For the first time in their meeting, Irene showed ire towards the Olympian Queen. "I'm special, Juno," she said. "Unlike you, I have the power to grant an individual eleftheria – freedom."
"Go and grant your freedom, then," Juno snapped out. "And watch as I kill your champion."
With a blaze of light, Juno disappeared.
Irene smiled to herself. "You're too late," she whispered. "You can't kill my champion if you don't recognize him."
Irene held out her hand.
In it, she cupped a silver filament of glowing light. Delicate feathery tendrils waved gracefully in the air around it.
A soul.
Specifically, the soul of one Perseus Jackson.
Gesturing with her other hand, Irene opened a small portal that led directly to the river Lethe, and dropped the soul in.
"Ave, bellator," she whispered a blessing as the silvery soul sank gently into the dark water. "I'll see you again soon."
-X-
Oh, somewhere deep inside these bones,
An emptiness begins to grow;
There's something out there, something far from my home;
A longing that I've never known.
-X-
A dark haired, light skinned boy jerked awake with a loud gasp.
He'd had a dream - the same dream he'd been having everynight since his sixteenth birthday about two months ago.
Blonde hair and grey eyes. Princess curls and smiling lips. Sarcasm and insults.
"You're such a Seaweed Brain."
"Damien, you okay?"
Damien turned his head towards the sound of the voice - his half-sister, Nastasya.
Blinking, he answered her. "Yeah, I'm fine, Tas." His voice was rough.
Tas smiled knowingly. "The dream again?"
Damien blushed. "Shut it. I knew I never should have told you about those."
"Never should have told me that you're in lurve with an imaginary girl? Duh, Damien. I thought you were smarter than that - you practically gave me eternal leverage."
"I am not in 'lurve' with anyone," he protested.
Tas snorted in a way that screamed derision.
Somewhere in the distance, a bell sounded.
"Crap, I missed breakfast?" He yelped out.
"And by the looks of it, you're missing first period," she said, eyeing his white cotton shirt and flannelette pajama pants.
He didn't deign to answer her as he stumbled to the bathroom.
-X-
"Youngest child of Hades," Miss Dare said as he burst, twenty minutes late, into first period. "It is nice of you to join us."
"Only child of Hades," Damien corrected as he made his way to his seat. "Tas is Roman."
Miss Dare smiled faintly and brushed some of her fiery red hair behind one ear.
(behind her back all the students called it the Beacon)
"Okay," the teacher said. "What can you tell me about the Union?"
Estefania, a daughter of Athena, raised her hand immediately. "The Union took place early in the second decade of the 21st century, after the climax of the second Giant war. The then leaders of both the Greek and Roman forces drew up a peace treaty and signed it. The named it the Jackson Treaty to honour a fallen friend. The two camps also made an effort to conjoin, and thus the Schola was born. During the year all demigods are welcome to stay here and then go away to their respective camps in the summer."
Miss Dare smiled once again at the class, in a way that made it clear she was both happy and disapointed with them - happy with Stef, for learning the material, disapointed with the rest for letting her answer.
"Anybody else?" She queried and cast a watchful eye around.
Damien shifted uncomfortably before raising his hand.
(he hated being the centre of the attention)
"Yes, Damien."
"The colour of the Schola," he squirmed in his seat. "It's red."
"And..?" She said, nodding encouragingly.
But Damien hunkered down further into his seat and refused to say another word.
With a sigh, his teacher turned to the other students for help.
As some Apollo boy - Adam? - started explaining about how red factored in both of the camps' separate colours, and how there'd been a big debate about whether or not to make it blue to honour Percy Jackson or red to honour the newfound peace, an ice like chill surrounded the room.
Damien straightened ever so slightly, tensing in his seat as his preternatural awareness awakened in his blood.
Specifically, the blood he got from his father's side - his tainted ichor.
The real world faded to blurry black and white as the world beyond the veil sharpened into technicolor.
No one else reacted, which was to be expected. For all their perceptiveness when it came to the world of the supernatural, it was a very rare demigod that could actually see through the veil.
Whispers flew through the air.
(they killed me)
It sounded like a little girl, no older than nine.
(and they're going to kill again)
Damien knew that it was of no use to look for the spirit, but he instinctively started twisting in his seat, searching for it.
The world started to bleed into his personal reality once again, and he could feel his grip on the spirit start to fade.
"Wait!" He yelled out, forcibly ignoring the looks his classmates sent his way and then at eachother, as if saying 'there goes the crazy'.
Miss Dare frowned slightly and moved from behind her desk at the front of the class, making her way to him. "Are you okay, Damien?"
Her voice echoed strangely, as if coming to him through water.
Water.
(the spirit seemed to like the idea)
With one last great chill, spiritual power swept through the room, centering in on a point directly above Damien's head.
He tilted his head back.
And a deluge of water mixed with gods-knows-what poured down on his head as the ceiling burst open, soaking him.
He fell out of his seat, gasping.
And reality snapped back in with elastic recoil.
He was laying sprawled on the ground with everyone staring at him, bone dry. His chest was rising and falling rapidly as he breathed.
And delicate hand brushed him on the forehead - Miss Dare, checking his temperature.
"I'm fine, I'm fine," he muttered, brushing her off as he stood unsteadily.
"If you're sure..."
"I am," he reassured his teacher. "I think I just need some air."
"Take a hall pass," she suggested. "Go and get some."
Damien all but ran out the door.
-X-
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Damien was bent over the porcelain basement.
The nausea that always came after he used his powers - willing or no - was taking over him; making his stomach churn and his palms sweat.
Why was he like this? Tas could use her powers almost effortlessly, yet she never felt this way. He had never met his older half-brother, Nico, but he'd heard about him. He got tired, sure, but not sick. Not stay-in-bed-for-a-week sick.
A moan broke out of his throat as the air started to rapidly cool.
Please not again.
The sound of hinges squeaking Drew his attention to behind him.
He turned.
Peeking out through the slight gap between the door and wall of a cubicle behind him was a girl.
A girl with waxy skin that was hanging off of bones. A girl with once blonde hair that was sloughing off her skull. A girl with eyes that were covered in the white film of Death.
A girl who was soaked to the bone - literally - and who's throat was slit, blood running down her front in oozing rivulets, with black clots clumping to the front of her neck where the cut was.
Damien tasted bile.
"Really?" He asked weakly. "Death body? Do you have to?"
Every ghost had two sides that they could show - their Death body, what they look like in reality; and their Life body, which reflects what they looked like on their happiest moment alive.
Dripdripdripdripdripdrip.
Damien whirled back around, though every fibre of his being screamed 'do not freaking turn your back on that ghost!'
The dripping tap from before was now pouring out a steady stream.
As Damien reached out to turn the tap off, all the others in the bathroom came on simultaneously.
Stunned, Damien froze.
The sound of water was coming from behind him, too; and when he turned to see what the hell was going on, the little girl ghost was gone.
The toilets were overflowing, however.
"What the..."
Soon, water began rising in the bathroom, and a waterfall was being made from the basins as they overflowed.
The water was up to his knees now, and, freaking out just slightly, Damien rushed to the door.
It was locked.
"Dammit," he swore.
Just as something brushed against his leg. The definite imprint of a hand burned its way onto his calf.
Damien kicked out wildly. The spirit recoiled, relinquishing its grip on his leg.
Splashing wildly, legs flailing - running through water was hard - Damien made his way to the basins and clambered atop them.
Just as he was regaining his balance a skeletal hand rose lightning quick out if the water and gripped his ankle with inhuman strength. Tugging down hard on it, it yanked him into the water.
(he couldn't breathe)
-O-
"Ow, ow, ow, fuck," Thalia swore as she leant all the more heavily on Annabeth.
Annabeth scowled as blood ran down from Thalia's arm to her back, staining her silver clothes red and pink.
"Thanks," she told her longtime friend sarcastically. "Really. Thanks."
"Watch...the snark...you bitch," Thalia ground out. "Respect your elders."
Annabeth laughed. Reluctantly, Thalia smiled, too pained to laugh along with her.
"What are you two laughing about?" Another girl slipped underneath one of Thalia's arms, helping to support her weight.
"This brat right here, milady," Annabeth smiled, nodding towards Thalia, who poked her tongue out.
The goddess smiled, but concern had tightened her features.
As they made their way into the Hunter's camp, Annabeth and Artemis gently lowered their sister down, and the goddess then inspected her wound while Annabeth made soothing sounds.
Artemis winced as she saw the extent if the damage. An arrow had buried itself in her left shoulder up to the shaft, and the head had broken right through the flesh, sinew, muscle and bone, straight to the otherside in a magnificent display of gore.
"Well?" Thalia gritted out. "Pull the damn thing out and heal me already."
"It is not that simple, little sister," the goddess replied. "The arrow...it is poisoned."
Annabeth paled. "Poisoned?"
Artemis sent a reassuring glance her way. "The poison is not fatal," she said. "It simply makes it impossible for me to heal the wound. It is...god resistant, so to speak." She frowned down at Thalia. "There is only one place I can think of to get you healed."
Thalia pounced on the opportunity to rid herself of the pain she was currently experiencing. "Where?"
"The Schola," Artemis said. "They would most certainly have an elixir to cure this."
Annabeth stood. "I'll take her."
Artemis nodded. "Take Sofia, too. That way there will be three of you on this quest."
Annabeth pulled Thalia into a sitting position. "I'll go pack and inform our third troop member." She thumped Thalia gently on her uninjured shoulder.
"Bitch," Thalia groaned out.
-O-
Drowning was a disorienting experience, to say the least.
First, Damien had to deal with the pain of his injured ankle. Heat radiated from where the ghost had gripped him and it felt like his bones were being charred to ash.
Second, he, unfortunately, couldn't breathe underwater.
He thrashed wildly, and felt his nails scrabble against the tiled floor of the bathroom. He arched his back hurriedly, but he was just a fraction of a second too late. His back hit the floor, hard; and pain ricocheted up his spine.
The ghost still hadn't let go. She held onto his ankle as if it was a lifeline.
Or, as if she wanted to kill him. A deathline.
Suddenly, the water disappeared, as if it had never been there at all.
"Damien! Damien." Tas was sobbing over him, hitting him hard on the chest. "Damien!"
"I'm here, stop hitting me!"
Above him, Nastasya froze.
And then she was squeezing him to near death, growling at him. "You were just thrashing on the floor," she said. "It was like you were having a fit."
Damien groaned. "You couldn't see it?"
Tas blinked at him. "See what?"
Taking that as a yes, Damien replied, "There was a ghost...you sure you didn't see her?"
"I didn't see anything..." Tas' eyes were fixed on a spot by the wall. "But I don't think it was any ordinary ghost."
"Why?"
"Because you're wet."
"What?"
A long suffering sigh. "You're sopping wet yet the entire bathroom is dry. I'm guessing the ghost pulled a phantasm on you, but that doesn't explain why you're wet, now, does it?"
A chill that had nothing to do with the fact that he was soaked to the bone swept through Damien. "Ghosts can't affect our realm like that," he said slowly. "While I was caught in the phantasm, I would have been mentally affected by what the ghost made me see - that's why I thought I was drowning. But once you dragged me back into reality...nothing else should've come with me. I shouldn't be wet."
Tas nodded.
"Maybe it's not a ghost?" He suggested. "I mean, you couldn't see it, right?"
"No, I couldn't," she said. "But I'm not as powerful as you."
Damien snorted.
"I'm being serious," Tas insisted. "That's why you're such a loose screw. Too much power up there, messing with your head."
He couldn't tell if she was insulting or complimenting him, but he decided not to think too hard about it.
Or the fact that, for whatever reason, his sister Tas had been the one to find him. In a guys' bathroom.
"Let's focus on the problem at hand," he said. "If I'm wet via water related phantasm..."
Tas' eyes widened in realization. "The veil is failing."
-X-
Oh, there's an empty place in my bones,
That calls out for something unknown,
The fame and praise come year after year;
Does nothing for these empty tears.
-X-
"Nearly there, Thalia," Sofia reassured her sister-in-arms.
"Great," Thalia groaned.
Annabeth, who was driving, remained silent.
The Schola.
She'd promised herself to never go back to that place.
-X-
________________________________________

And who's to know that the lies hide your flaws,
No sense in hiding all of yours;
You gave up your dreams along the way.
-O-

three.
________________________________________
scream
noun
a long, high pitched, piercing cry; expressing emotion or pain.
-O-

Chiron's welcome seemed a little forced.
"Are you okay?" Annabeth asked her former mentor.
A strained smile made its way to the centaurs face. "Just some rather troubling news," he replied.
Thalia, while injured, was no less herself, and immediately jumped into Head-Huntress mode. "What is it?" Her expression was fierce.
A tired sigh. "Damien, our resident child of Hades, made a harrowing discovery."
Sofia raised a brow. "And?"
"And, nothing. At least, nothing you need to trouble yourself with. This problem shall be dealt with by the Schola. Now, please, let us not linger outside any longer. Thalia's wound must be seen to."
He turned and trotted his way inside, clearly presuming that they would follow him.
As Annabeth made her way in to the foyer, her eyes, for once, did not flick around the room, judging the architecture. They remained set resolutely ahead.
Behind her, she could hear Thalia's pained grunts and Sofia's awed gasps.
"Has the location of the sickbay changed, Chiron?" She called out out to the centaur.
"Hmm? Oh, no, child. Same place as ever."
She smiled at him. "Then you can go back to whatever you were doing before we arrived. I can handle this lot."
Chiron's face spasmed. "I do not think that best, Annabeth. Maybe you should let your sisters go on, and come with me."
Annabeth frowned and shook her head. "I am not leaving my sisters alone in this place." Even though she had only been a member of the Hunt for just over two decades, the prejudice against campers - well, students now, really - was ingrained deeply within her.
Chiron seemed to tense further. "Annabeth," he snapped out.
(that was strange - Chiron never snapped)
"I think it would be best of you remained out here, far away from the infirmary."
Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Goodbye, Chiron," she called over her shoulder as she re-supported Thalia's other side and began to help the two other girls make their way down the entrance hall to the hospital
bay.

-X-

"Why did you send her, Artemis? Are you trying to mess with Fate?"
"I am just repaying a favour I owe an old friend."
"Irene. She talked you into this, didn't she?"
"Maybe she did, maybe she didn't. But it is too late now. What's done is done."
"May the Mother strike you down...when that boy's soul Fragments, I will come after you myself."

-X-

And who's to know if your soul will fade at all;
The one you sold to fool the world?

-X-

"A sidhe?" Tas suggested, reading from her laptop screen.
Damien laughed bitterly. "What kind?"
He was reclining back into uncomfortable, bleach smelling cushions on a hard hospital bed.
Like always, after a visitation, Damien was resigned to bed rest.
Tas' face was scrunched up. "A Nū Thán Báo Tū?" She read off, speaking slower than before as her tongue struggled around the pronunciations.
"A banshee?" Damien asked her incredulously. "Really?"
She threw up her hands. "Well, then you tell me what else if could possibly be."
"Does the lore even fit?"
Her eyes closed and she slumped in defeat. "No. But there is a slim chance, and I'll take anything over a failing veil."
"Well, I don't think you have a choice," Damien informed her. "For all my faults as a child of Hades, I know a dead person when I see one. And that, dear sister, was definitely a ghost."
"Then why couldn't I see it?" Tas challenged.
"I don't - " Damien's eyes became unfocused as he broke off mid sentence. "Transference."
Nastasya jerked her head up, and mouthed the word in shock. "That's really, really rare," she said shakily.
Damien nodded. "Preaching to the choir, here," he told her. "But that does tell us something."
Tas nodded along in sage agreement. "The ghost was a child of Hades."

-X-

The Maiden, The Mother, and The Old Crone;
Reside on a mountain, where they live all alone.
Now be a good child, and go straight to sleep,
Or with the next lifeline they cut, your soul will be reaped.
- Demigod children rhyme

-X-

The doors to the infirmary swing open without Annabeth having to touch them.
"Sensors," she noted, seeing the black strips on either side of the door. "They're new. And handy."
She turned to Sofia. "C'mon, last leg."
Sofia grunted in response. With a last, great heave of effort, the huntresses' managed to make their way into the room proper.
A tanned, brunette girl sat next to a pale, dark haired boy laying back on one of the beds on the east side of the room.
Annabeth moved immediately to the west side and called out to the brunette - a daughter of Apollo, maybe? - "Some help, please?"
The girl seemed startled to see someone else in the sickbay, and once she had made her way over to them and judged to true extent of Thalia's horrific injury, she was much paler under her dusky bronze skin.
"I'm Jasmine," she introduced herself, in the standard demigod fashion. "Daughter of Apollo."
Annabeth nodded towards her friend. "Can you do something to help her?"
"Oh, sure," Jasmine answered distractedly. "Just as soon as I can identify the toxin."
"It was god resistant," Sofia piped up helpfully.
Jasmine's golden-brown eyes fixed on the young hunter. "Artemis couldn't heal it?" She asked.
Annabeth shook her head, no.
"Hmm, I wonder..." Jasmine muttered to myself.
Annabeth and Sofia exchanged looks as the other girl made her way over to the only other patient in the room - the boy.
Both huntresses groaned.
Jasmine seemed to be attempting to wheedle him into something. He, in turn, seemed to be refusing adamantly, if the violent shaking of his head was anything to go by.
"What are you doing?" Annabeth called out.
"Damien here can help, I think," she called back without turning to face the daughter of wisdom. "He's just being a stubborn idiot."
Sofia snorted. "He's a boy. That automatically makes him an idiot."
Damien. Why did that sound so familiar?
Shaking her head to clear it of the mind-bunnies, Annabeth spoke to Jasmine. "If he can help, bring him over here."
Sofia tensed and made an unhappy hissing sound.
Annabeth cut her a look. Even though every one of her Hunter instincts screamed at her, 'do not let that boy touch your sister!'
If it helped Thalia, Annabeth was willing to do anything.
(even if help = boy)
Jasmine nodded and continued to work on convincing Damien. Eventually, it seems she managed to coerce him into helping them, because with a long suffering sigh, he kicked off his blankets and stood up, making his way towards them.
Annabeth scrutinized him as he wandered over.
He was lean and of average height - only slightly taller than her - but well defined muscles lay under his scarred skin.
(marks of a half-blood)
His hair was black as pitch, the kind of flat black that you just can't get from a bottle. His skin was only a shade darker than printer paper, and his eyes were pools of ochre.
"Just what are you planning on doing, boy?" Sofia sneered, and Annabeth couldn't surpress a wince at the disgust in her tone.
(nothing excused lack of common courtesy)
To his credit, the boy - Damien, why would you name a son of Hades that? Talk about giving the bullies ammunition - didn't seem at all dazed by Sofia's confrontational tone.
"As a son of Hades, I have an intrinsic knowledge of all instruments of death, including - "
He broke off, staring with wide eyes at Annabeth. He went, if possible, even paler.
The daughter of Athena glanced at him questioningly, and as their eyes met, it was almost like déjà vu.
(the eyes - why weren't they green?)
She broke eye contact with him at the same moment that he managed to shake off whatever stupor had taken him over.
"...poison," he finished faintly. "This might hurt," he added in undertone to Thalia, as he placed a hand gently on her wound.
Thalia screamed as Damien's knees buckled, bringing him to the ground.
(mentally, Annabeth screamed too)

-X-

And just fake it if you're out of direction,
Fake it if you don't belong here.

-X-

Ripping, tearing, breaking agony.
That's what Thalia's wound felt like.
Burning bile churned in Damien's stomach, and his entire body wanted to wrench violently away from the huntress - but he put up a wall between him and the reality of Thalia's pain.
(he had to remember that it was her pain, not his)
Mentally, he ran through the poison it could be - daktylís? Belantónna?
No, he thought. It's strÿchnos.
"Strÿchnos," he gasped out loud as he broke out of the trance.
"Nightshade?" Jasmine asked, baffled.
"Well, that's ironic," Annabeth muttered.
"But...nightshade? You're sure?"
"Dead certain," Damien told her. As far as he could tell, he was lying, sprawled, on the infirmary floor.
He couldn't bring himself to care.
Jasmine was perplexed. "But there are no symptoms...and Artemis should've been able to heal it."
"Can you heal it?" Annabeth asked anxiously.
"Oh, that'll be the easy part," Jasmine reassured her. "The Trivia and Hecate kids keep a lot of poisonous plants around and the littlies seem to like putting them in their mouths."
Annabeth turned to thank the son if Hades, but he was already gone.

-X-

Tas jumped as Damien stumbled out of the closet.
"Well, I was always expecting this to happen," she said, watching as he made his way to his bed before collapsing. "Just not quite so literally."
"Hilarious," Damien panted.
"I thought so," his sister said as she turned back to face her laptop screen. "Now, why did you shadow travel into the closet?"
"I needed shadows, duh."
Tas quirked an eyebrow at him before staring around the room dramatically.
(the only illumination in the room was coming from her laptop)
"Well, I didn't know that, did I?" Damien grumbled.
Tas gave a low laugh and shook her head, mahogany curls falling into her face.
"I've been looking through the Schola archives," she informed her brother in a near whisper.
Damien sat up, wide eyed. "You hacked into the records?"
"Shhh!" Tas hissed. "Do you want someone to overhear us?"
"Since when can you hack?" He hissed back, climbing out of his bed and making his way to her.
"I can't," she whispered. "But I can change my IP address to match Chiron's." Her eyes moved rapidly from left to right as she took in the info on the screen. "Man, Chiron even has Lethe records..."
Damien raised an eyebrow. "Can you get in?" He asked curiously.
After a moment, Tas shook her head. "Encrypted," she murmured. "I should probably be thanking my lucky stars that I managed to work my way into the demigod records."
"So what'd you find?"
"We have three unclaimed siblings who don't know they're demigods. A boy in Cali - I think he's Roman; another boy in Texas; and a girl in Washington." Tas eyed him. "She's seven years old and has been missing for two months."
She clicked the mouse a few more times before swiveling the computer around so the screen faced him. "This her?"
The girl in the picture was smiling. She had pigtails and dimples. She was missing a front tooth and her eyes were crinkled shut, she was laughing so hard. She wore a white cotton dress with pink flowers embroidered on the neckline.
The girl in the picture was so alive, yet it was unmistakably the ghost girl.
Damien's eyes burned. A painful lump rose in his throat.
"Yeah," he said huskily. "That's her."
Tas stared blankly at the screen, her own nutmeg brown eyes swimming with tears.
"Ave, sister," she choked out before closing her laptop lid.
Each sibling took a moment to compose themselves.
"Okay," Tas finally said. "Okay. Question: who killed her, and why?"
They killed me, Damien recalled. They'll kill again.
"I don't know," he spoke out loud. "But I plan to find out."

-X-

"Let go of me!" The boy was twelve, maybe, and had a Texan accent. "Let me go!"
The man who was yanking the kid along stopped abrubtly and cuffed him in the head, hard.
The kid went down.
"You can't do that!" A woman protested angrily. "Is that even your kid? I'm calling the c - "
Her words were cut off with a gurgle.
The man bent down over the body and wiped his blade clean on the woman's blouse. As he stood, he scooped the unconscious demigod up and threw it over his shoulder.
He flipped open his phone a second before it rang.
"I found another," he said, before listening to what the person on the other end said. "I'm heading your way now."

-X-

(miles away, Thalia awoke with a start, the sound of screams still echoing in her head)
________________________________________

It's coming down to nothing more than apathy;
I'd rather run the other way than stay and see,
The smoke and who's still standing when it clears.

-O-

four.
________________________________________
scar
noun
a mark left on a person due to trauma.

-O-

Jasmine leant forward and whispered in Adam's ear, "what do you think is wrong with them?"
Adam shot his younger sister a look of puzzlement. In answer, she inclined her head in the direction of the Hades table. "They seem down, don't you think?"
Adam spared a glance for Damien and Nastasya, who did, in fact, seem rather upset with something. "Who cares?" He muttered.
Jasmine shot him a hurt, reproachful look. "I do," she said. "Damien is my friend."
Adam wolf-whistled.
She looked at him with an aura of total exasperation. "Adam, I'm being serious," she insisted. "Something is really wrong."
"And I really don't care," he told her. "You shouldn't either. They're Hades kids - they should be left alone."
Jasmine scowled at her plate of bacon and eggs. For a moment he remained silent and there was a lull of noise at the Apollo table; before the ambience from the cafeteria broke back in.
(damn prejudices)

-X-

The jarring sound of the Tas' fork times grating against the china of the plate in front of her as she pushed around her scrambled eggs grated on Damien's nerves.
"Will you stop?" He snapped at her.
Her hand stilled, but her lips began to tremble. She closed her eyes as if attempting to hold back tears, but as Damien watched, a trail of liquid grief traced its way down her face from the corner of her eye.
Damien sighed.
(he was such an ass)
"Hey," he soothed, curling an arm around her shoulders and placing his head atop hers. "Hey. It's okay."
He began to hum as he rocked her back and forth, like he used to do to his mortal little sister.
(who was dead now, because of him)
Tas took in a deep breath that rattled in her chest. "It's just that," she stopped, more sobs shaking her body.
(people were staring now)
Damien swore in Greek under his breath. Normally, he could be shouting at the ghost of Lincoln and no one would give a flying fart in space.
(now he wanted everyone to ignore them, but it seemed that they were prime time entertainment)
Typical.
The clip-clopping if hooves from behind them informed Damien that Chiron had arrived, just at the moment that it would seem Tas was going to descend into full blown hysteria.
Chiron took one glance at Tas, understood that she was beyond answering questions coherently, and instead turned to Damien for help.
"Nastasya," he said, perplexed, in his voice a hefty question.
"That ghost I told you about yesterday," Damien said coldly. "She didn't just drag me into a phantasm; it was a Transference. That girl," he hissed out menacingly, "was our sister." He gestured between himself and Tas with his free hand. "And what I experienced yesterday? That was how she died. Tas dragged me out of it before I could have my throat slit, however, something I am glad of."
This whole time he spoke in low tones so the others students couldn't hear them.
Chiron sighed. "I really am getting too old for this," he murmured. "I promise I will explain everything to you later, child, but for now I must assist you sister."
Damien nodded in acquiescence, and relinquished his sister to the care of Chiron, who held out a hand, smiling kindly as Tas accepted it. He led her out of the cafeteria with a hand on the small of her back.
(there was only one word for what Damien felt then - foreboding)

-X-

"We have eggs, and bacon, and toast and fruit; as well as something called flan," Sofia told Thalia cheerfully as Annabeth plonked the loaded tray down on the table next to the bed.
"The flan is nice," Annabeth offered. "Tastes kind of like marmalade."
"We would've gotten Count Chocula for you," Sofia confided. "But neither of us had much confidence in our abilities to not spill milk everywhere on the way up here. Which reminds me - who the hell builds an infirmary on the third floor of a building with no elevators?"
"Demigods do," Thalia answered in a hoarse, dry voice. "Last line of defense for the injured if siege is layed."
Sofia paused in her cutting up of the flan. "Thalia, are you okay? You seem kind of...upset."
"Yeah," Annabeth said. "I just didn't want to mention it."
Thalia closed her eyes and leant back. "No, I don't think I am okay," she said slowly. "The Fate's control is slipping...and the dark can sense it. Bad things are coming."
(she didn't mention that she thought they were already here)

-X-

Damien paced outside of Chiron's office, his fingers drumming a frantic rhythm against his thigh.
(a killer headache was coming on, he could feel it)
"Damien, please stop. You will give yourself a brain haemorrhage; and that is not a fitting end for any son of mine."
Electricity seemed to arc down his back.
He whirled, and in a single graceful movement, sunk to one knee, head bowed in deference and tilted at such an angle that his neck was bared and vulnerable, with his right hand fisted over his heart. "My lord," he said.
His father sighed. "Get up, Damien."
Damien rose; slowly, warily.
His father took in his suspicious stance with sad eyes. "Do you still not trust me?"
The silence screamed 'no' louder than words could.
(he would never trust the asshole again)[i/]
Hades sighed. "Let us put that behind us for the moment," he instructed. "I must speak with you about something of great importance."
"What?" Damien struggled to sound respectful.
[i](to make sure the hate he felt wasn't visible in his voice)
"I know you must hate me," his father said. "I do. And I do not blame you. But I come to you now, not as your father, but as a god."
Damien watched him with worry in his eyes. "What is it you want, exactly?"
Hades' eyes glowed with black flames of power. "I know you know of your missing siblings. The unclaimed ones."
"Yeah, Tas and I heard about Eve - wait, siblings? As in, plural?"
"Yes. Geoff, a younger brother of yours that resides in Texas, was taken last night. I...I can no longer sense him."
Damien blinked spasmodically. "But you're a god. What has the power to remove one of your children from your Sight?"
"Nothing good," Hades said grimly. "Which is why I am issuing you a quest."
(as these words were spoken, the nape of Damien's neck blazed with pain)
Hades flicked his towards the door of Chiron's office. "You will lead the quest," he said. "And you will take Nastasya with you. Your third companion can be of your own choosing."
"Yeah, real generous of you," Damien muttered.
"Make haste, my son," Hades implored, ignoring his statement. "May the gods go with you."
With a swirl of smoke and shadows, Hades was gone.
The door opened, and Nastasya walked out, looking noticeably calmer.
"Pack your bags," Damien told her before she could get a word in edgewise. "We've been given a quest."

-X-

Jasmine was changing the dressing on Thalia's wound when bells started to toll throughout the Schola.
The daughter of Zeus jerked upright with a pained hiss and her two sisters reached for their weapons.
"What is it?" Annabeth growled at Jasmine. "An attack?"
"No," the daughter of Apollo replied, her eyes fearful. "A quest had been issued. The Oracle is being summoned."
Thalia gripped Jasmine's wrist in a bone shatteringly tight hold. "Where?" She ground out, eyes closed.
Jasmine seemed hesitant to answer her.
So, Thalia shook the foolish girl. "Where?"
"Th - the Lake of Delphi. Out the back of campus."
Thalia nodded slowly. "Thank you," she said. "Now redress my wound. Hurry."
Annabeth and Sofia exchanged loaded looks.
"What?" Thalia snapped at them.
"Nothing," they answered in unison.
Thalia scrutinized them. "Okay, then. If you say so. Help me up."
Annabeth raised an eyebrow, and Sofia frowned, but both did as they were bid.
"Okay," Thalia panted. "Okay. Now, help me down two flights of stairs and out the garden; to the back of campus. I need to go to the Lake of Delphi."

-X-

Pay my respects to Grace and Virtue, send my condolences to Good;
Give my regards to Soul and Romance, they always did the best they could;
And so long to Devotion, who taught me everything I know;


Wave goodbye, wish me well, you've got to let me go.

-X-

The Oracle's eyes were noxious green, and smoke of the same colour surrounded her.
(this was no longer Miss Dare)
"Approach, Seeker, and ask."
(this was something inhuman - monstrous - other)
"What must I do to save my siblings?"
Damien brave himself for the prophecy that was guaranteed to follow, and was shocked when the Oracle instead cocked her head to one side, like an inquisitive dog.
"Is that really the question you want to ask?"
(it sounded like she meant 'I know something you don't')
"It's the question I have to ask, because that's the question who's answer I need."
"Spoken like a true martyr," Delphi hissed. "Because you are no sword, boy, not like your previous incarnation - you are a shield."
Damien blinked. "What?"
The Oracle ignored him, and spoke.

-O-

The champion of Peace,
The breaker of Fate,
Holder of secrets,
Key to it all,
Beware.

-O-

Rachel Elizabeth Dare slumped to the ground in a dead faint, pale white and bleeding from the ears.
Chiron came galloping into the clearing by the Lake with Tas on his back.
(they'd been waiting amongst the trees)
The centaur frowned when he saw the state of the Oracle. "That is...decidedly not normal."
Damien breathed out shakily. "Trust me, nothing about that was normal."
Tas sent him a questioning look. He shook his head at her.
(I'll explain later, his expression said)
"What did the prophecy say?" Chiron asked.
Damien hissed out an angry breath through his teeth. "Nothing. It wasn't even really a prophecy - it was a warning."
Chiron sighed. "I feared this would happen."
The two death god children exchanged confused looks.
"Dammit, Éireine," the incensed centaur hissed. "What are you playing at, granting him eleftheria? He's a child, for gods sake!"
He's my champion, a voice like the wind echoed throughout the clearing.
"Er, what?" Tas questioned.
"Nothing you children need to worry about," Chiron murmured distractedly. "Your quest is upon you, and you must pick your third companion."
"That," a strong, female voice ran out. "Would be me."

-X-

Annabeth, while confused at Thalia's adamant declaration, was not all that surprised.
Sofia, however, reacted violently, to say the least.
"What?" She shrieked. "You want to go on a quest with a boy!"
Thalia flicked one feverishly bright eye in her direction. "Not want," she corrected, "need." She turned to face the others in the clearing and addressed Damien. "And trust me, you need me on this quest."
With a glance, the siblings seemed to gauge eachothers feelings about this possible addition.
"What do you think?" Nastasya whispered. "Do you think she could be our Larry?"
"Depends," her brother whispered back.
"On?"
"Which one of us is Moe, and which one is Curly."
Nastasya rolled her eyes.
"Because I'm rather particular to Moe, see."
"How about this," she hissed at him. "You're Flopsy, I'm Mopsy, and she's Cottontail."
Damien seemed to seriously consider it.
"Welcome to the team, Cottontail," he finally said, speaking to Thalia.

-X-

"Please - please - ple - "
The words cut off with the sound of a wet, rattling, gargled scream.
A platinum haired woman tilted her head in an apathetic manner. Her eyes were flat black - no whites, no iris, no pupil, just black.
(monster)
With a graceful movement she twisted her wrist.
(blood splashed across her face in arcs)
The screams cut off.
"This isn't the one I am looking for," she spoke in a voice like brittle ice. Thick, scarlet, arterial blood dripped down her nose and over her lips. "Fetch me another."
________________________________________

I have seen grown men give out a shriek,
With a wave of my hand, and a well-placed moan;
I have swept the very bravest men right off their feet.

-O-

five.
________________________________________
experiment
noun
a scientific procedure undertaken to make a discovery.

-O-

I'm on my knees looking for an answer,
You've got to let me know...

-X-

"How is the subject doing?" The voice was cool.
No disgust or amusement, happiness or horror; or indeed, any sort of inflection of emotion at all touched the woman's lips as she spoke, staring down at the spasming body of the seven year old girl strapped down to a gurney.
The man whom she addressed was holding a blood covered scalpel in one hand.
As the woman watched, he flicked it, shaking most of the sanguine fluid off, the rest gradually running down the blade and falling to the cement floor in oozing rivulets as he let it rest at his side.
(the whole room smelt like carnage)
"Not well," he answered Apathy in a clipped, British voice. "Your thugs took the wrong child, again." He made a sound of exasperated disgust. "She won't last the night," he added, glancing down at the convulsing body of the tortured girl.
"Hmmm," Apathy said. "It seems your work here is done."
The Brit looked up just in time to see his death rush towards him.
A sickening thud -
(blade through neckthroatspinalcord)
- and it was over.
Humming, Apathy made her way over to the gurney, where there was a table on which a myriad of things lay.
She picked up a tube.
"Death girls blood-essence and power," she mused, looking at the girl.
Her gaze cut to the man. "Transferred to a dead man. My own Frankenstein's monster."
A smile like that of a thousand happy cherubs lit up her face, making her seem beautiful.
(If looks could kill)

-X-

Several hours later, the gurney was empty except for congealing blood and scraps of flesh.
The woman sat on it, seemingly unconcerned with the gore that was soaking into the gray cashmere of her expensive looking dress.
"I suppose you should know my name," she told the wrecked body at her feet. "You're mine now, and you'll need to know my name for me to hold any true sway over your rotting corpse."
She cocked her head to one side. "I am Eidyia," she said. "Remember that."
(the lump of flayed, charred and bloody flesh at her feet twitched)
Eyes opened, already filmed over with the egg-rot of death.
"Eidyia," it moaned. "Eidyia."
"That's me," she said. "I have one last job for you, Alexander, dear."
"Eidyia."
"And I'll take that as a yes."

-X-

The lab room was clean when Akexander's rotting corpse re-entred a few months later; now just flesh scraps clinging to bones hidden under a black overcoat.
(soon he would be nothing but sentience)
A child, bound, gagged and more than a little worse for wear was dumped unceremoniously in front of her.
(she thanked Alexander as she killed him - for real this time)

-X-

No gurney this time.
(no, the boy was strung up)
Hands and legs and throat and torso tied down.
(crucifixion)
Eidyia smiled at the boy as she raised a mini scythe, no bigger than the palm of her hand.
"Let's see what makes you tick," she murmured as she sliced open his stomach expertly.
(let the second round of the torture games begin)

-X-

"Please - please - ple - "
The words cut off with the sound of a wet, rattling, gargled scream.
(blood splashed across her face in arcs)
The screams were silenced.
"This isn't the one I am looking for," she spoke in a voice like brittle ice. Thick, scarlet, arterial blood dripped down her nose and over her lips. "Fetch me another."
Her newest minion nodded.
"And this time, be sure the one you are taking is Freedom," she picked up a pair of bone clamps. "Or I shall learn what makes you tick."
(never has a human man run so fast)

-X-

Thoughts and memories play like an old melody;
There's no turning back because there is no remedy.
They're building walls of lies far too high to break down,
And they know her soul will die
any time now.
________________________________________
[¥]
________________________________________

Now the past I've tried forgetting,
And my foes I could forgive,
Trouble is, I know it's petty - but I hate to let them live.

-O-

six.
dream
noun
a state of mind in which one is unaware of their immediate surroundings.

-O-

Athena wasn't always the only wisdom goddess.
The youngest Oceanid, Eidyia - wife to Aeetes, mother of Medea - she was known as a minor goddess of knowledge.
Truthfully, though, she was the goddess of knowledge no matter the cost.
At first, no one believed Tethys about the claims she made against Eidyia - after all, what mother in their right mind would cause their daughter of such monstrous crimes?
Eventually, though, the truth was discovered - the truth about the experiments Eidyia was conducting - and the minor goddess was banished; not even by the gods, but the Fates themselves.
(now the Fates' grip on reality is slipping; their power is failing; their prisoners are going freefreefreefree)
And Eidyia shall discover what makes you tick.

-X-

It was dawn the next day when they left.
An auspicious time, Chiron had said.
Annabeth wasn't so sure.
She had tried pleading with Thalia to stay - Thalia, who seemed unusually happy with her new nickname of 'Cottontail' - behind and let another go on the quest because she wasn't properly healed yet, but the daughter of Zeus had simply brushed off the other girls' concerns with careless abandon.
"I need to go on this quest," she said sincerely, trying to let the truth shine through her eyes. "I can't explain it."
Similarly, Annabeth couldn't explain why she was so adamantly against Thalia going.
(though she suspected it had something to do with the fact that she wanted to go in her stead)
Yes, that was most likely it. Even though she would never admit it out loud, the boy, Damien - he intrigued her; in spite of herself she was drawn to him.
(something about him was just so familiar and just so home)
Thalia gave her friend a sad smile and a tight, one armed hug. "You and Sofia just head back to camp, okay?" She murmured into Annabeth's ear. "I'll be back before you know it."
As they pulled away from eachother and Thalia shouldered her canvas duffel, Annabeth smiled tightly.
(someone would die on this quest)

-X-

On the opposite side of the campus and quite a few stories higher than the infirmary - it was on the seventh floor - was the Hades dorm.
In it, Tas was playing computer sleuth while Damien packed.
"So, oh fearless leader," she quipped cheerfully. "What is the game plan? Head to Texas and hope Cottontail's awesome Huntress skills come in handy?"
"Head to Cali," Damien corrected her. "Geoff is beyond our help now. If he pulls a Transference like Eve did, then we might be able to track down the origin of death; but for now, our focus is going to be on our living sibling."
Tas was quiet. "So, save who we still can," she finally said.
Damien inclined his head in an affirmative. "Beyond that, I really have no clue as to what we're going to do," he informed her. "I'm not big on details - and you're the smart one."
"I think we should ask Thalia her opinion," Tas mused. "She's probably older than she looks."
"That does not mean she is for certain wiser than us."
Tas shrugged.
(and at that moment, the lights flickered out)

-X-

Will your system be alright
when you dream of home tonight?
There is no message we're receiving;
Let me know, is your heart still beating?

-X-

Black. White. Red. Bluegreenyellowpink.
(colours of the rainbow)
Swirling-spinning-blending.
(psychedelic)
"Holy crap," Tas said, pressing two fingers to her temple and pressing the palm of her other hand down hard over her eyes.
"Notion seconded," Damien groaned. "What the fuck?"
While her brother was bent over double, heaving and cussing, Tas surveyed the creepy-as-all-hell forest glade they were in.
"We're definitely not in Kansas anymore."

-X-

"What?"
The entire cafeteria turned to watch the show, but Thalia didn't care.
Annabeth and Sofia stayed behind her, well out of arms reach. They'd seen her in this kind of mood before; they knew the drill.
"What do you mean," she hissed out through clenched teeth. "Damien and Nastasya are gone?"
Chiron looked troubled. It seemed to be his look of the millennium, unfortunately. "They are here physically," he explained to the incensed daughter of Zeus. "Their mind and spirits, however, I fear are elsewhere."
Stunned, Thalia deflated. Annabeth still had questions, though. "How?" She asked. "Lord Hades assigned this quest himself. Who would dare to mess with his chosen questors?"
The answer hit Thalia with as much force and power as the Master Bolt.
"The person who is taking his children in the first place."
Annabeth thought on this idea appraisingly. "Then there would be a signal - some kind of residual magic left on the bodies that we could trace back to the perp."
Sofia mouthed, perp?
Chiron nodded. "Yes, you are right, of course. With such powerful magic; a soul-mark was bound to be left."
"Can we trace it back?" Thalia demanded.
Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Of course, Thalia. Well, we can't, not personally, anyway. But one of Hecate's - Trivia's - whatever-you-want-to-call-her - kids should be able to."
Thalia whirled back to Chiron. "Get your best spell-workers in this, now."

-X-

Nothing's going to hurt you the way words do,
And they settle 'neath your skin.
Kept on the inside, and no sunlight;
Sometimes a shadow wins.

-X-

Damien struggled to remain focused as the tainted ichor in his veins howled for release.
(the dead were near)
"Tas?" He called out, eyes squinted shut. "Something dead this way comes."
While he was still partially blind from pain, his sister answered with, "are you sure? I don't sense anythi - "
Her words cut off with a scream.
Damien felt like his spine was attempting an escape from the confines of his body, but he pulled himself together, for Tas.
(adrenalin racing)
He unclipped his knife from the sheath on his forearm.
"What is it?" He asked Tas.
She didn't answer.
(she stood like a statue; pale white and immobile. Unblinking/unmoving/still)
Following her gaze, Damien was not ashamed to admit that when he saw that...that thing, he screamed. Like a girl.
"Notion seconded," Tas said miserably.
A deer - a once beautiful doe - stood in front of them.
(dead)
It stood there, pawing gently at the ground with one hoof.
(one hoof that was cracked and hanging on to rotting flesh by threads of sinew and visible bone)
This was not a dead thing like Tas could raise; or any child of Hades could raise. This was a true zombie style undead.
"What could do that?" Tas' voice was filled with revulsion as she watched a piece of flesh along its ribcage lift up in the wind. "When a child of Hades raises the dead, they heal. What could do this?"
(Damien swallowed and didn't tell her that the one time he had succeeded in raising the dead it had turned out like this)

-X-

Annabeth surveyed the comatose bodies of Hades two children.
"What do you think of him?"
Annabeth was surprised to hear a voice come from behind her, but refused to jump. Keeping her composure, she turned with grace. "Pardon?" She asked coolly.
The centaur who had spoken grimaced at the apathy that radiated from his former student. "Damien," he explained further. "What do you think of him?"
(something in his eyes told Annabeth that he was looking for a very specific answer)
The huntress narrowed her eyes. "He's a boy." She made sure her voice showed the appropriate amount of disgust for a maiden of her station.
Chiron grimaced once again, but his eyes smiled.
(she seemed to have passed his test)
"I'll leave you then," he told her formally, leaving the room.
"What is your secret?" Annabeth wondered aloud to the dark haired boy.
(she vowed to find out)
A noise behind her alerted her to the arrival of Sofia, Thalia, and Renee - a daughter of Trivia who looked so much like Lou Ellen it gave Annabeth a headache.
(though she wasn't sure she really wanted to know)

-X-

Eyes watched. Lips moved; voice into phone.
Words. "I've found another."
A reply. "Do not engage."
An understanding.
(bait)
________________________________________
[¥]
________________________________________
Hope you enjoyed. Did any of y'all recognize any of these song lyrics? By the way, Eidyia is actually considered a knowledge goddess. According to my information, she really was Medea's mother, and the Queen of Colchis. She really was the youngest Oceanid (daughter of Oceanus), and Tethys really was her mother. With the rest, I call artistic license. That is all, have a good day!
- Jose
________________________________________

He's lost in time.
it's hard to believe
His whole life was changed,
In the blink of an eye.

-O-

seven.
control
noun
the power to influence or direct the behavior of others.

-O-

"So, what is it you're doing, exactly?" Sofia questioned curiously of the daughter of Trivia.
Renee was, at that moment, grinding up various herbs with a mortar and pestle.
"I'm making a hallucinogenic," she told Sofia distractedly. "Hey, pass me that daktylís?"
Sofia blinked. "The what?"
Renee shot her a look of exasperation. "The foxglove," she said, pointing at the stems of the purple, bell shaped flowers. "I need them; to give the elixir a poison base."
Sofia raised her eyebrows but handed Renee the flowers.
As she worked, Magic's daughter narrated what she was doing. "I'm using daktylís as a base ingredient - the one that binds all others together. By using a natural poison to help induce hallucinations and unconsciousness, I don't need to do a hell of a lot of complicated spells. Basically," she grunted out, pouring some sweet smelling oil into the mortar, "I just have to add in some of Nastasya's and Damien's blood, enchant it; and then whoever drinks it will be able to enter the dreams. Once they've gone down that path I can track them. See? Simple."
"Yeah," Sofia said, glancing in Annabeth and Thalia's direction. "Simple."
Help, she mouthed at them.

-X-

Almost involuntarily, Damien shifted his weight forward, taking a step closer to the zombie-doe.
"Damien," Tas hissed out.

'What are you doing? Damien, stop! You're scaring me, stop! Damien!'

"Back away from the deer, Damien."
(he ignored her, reaching his hand out, palm raised)
The deer flicked its ear - one appeared to have fallen off - and cocked its head to one side.
(it could sense what he truly was)
"Hey, girl," he spoke in a low tone. "Why don't you come here?"

'Shut up or go away, Cara.'
'Is that blood?'
'Shut up, you idiot!'

"Damien," Tas whispered, eyes roving the landscape of the skeleton trees. "Please stop."

'Stop, stop, stop! Why are you doing this? Stop!'

(the deer moved closer hesitantly, lowering its head to his hand, nuzzling it gently with its scabby, rotting nose)
"That's a good girl," he crooned, biting down on his tongue hard enough that he tasted his own blood. He screwed up his eyes and braced himself, grip tightening on his knife.
(a quick, practiced slash, and it was over)
Tas retched, but Damien, who had gotten the worst of it, merely stood over the body of the dead-for-real-this-time doe, knife still raised.
(the blood was already congealed hard when the blade tore through it; the bits that remained on the knife fell off unceremoniously in clumps)
Damien sank into a crouch in front of the deer, and while Tas was asking him what the fuck he was doing in a high pitched voice, he splayed his fingers wide before sinking them into the gaping tear at the front of the deer's throat.
(power flowed up his arm; power of the dead)
His eyes widened in disbelief.
(power of his)
"Tas," he whispered, pulling his hand out with a squelch. He felt sick. "I think I did this."

-X-

And the distance between that was sheltering me
comes into full view;
Hang my head, break my heart;
Build from all I have torn apart.

-X-

A girl with dark hair in a braid stands over her older brother, blinking brown eyes sleepily.
(she is innocent and pure)
"Damien, what are you doing?"
(but not for very much longer)
Damien ignores her, continuing to trace lines in the dirt with a big stick. Glancing over his shoulder to see if any adults are watching, he pulls a jar filled with viscous red liquid from underneath his jacket.
Cara's eyes widen. "Is that blood?"

-X-

Tas laughs. "Damien. Be logical; you've never raised anything - you told me that yourself. And even if you animated this deer, it would've healed."

-X-

Uncertain, Cara hovered between staying with her brother and running inside. "Stop," she said shakily. "Just...just stop, okay?"
Damien ignored her and opened the clasp on the jar.
Cara gagged as the scent of the liquid hit her.
(rust and salt)
Her brother poured the blood into the sigils he'd drawn in the dirt, nodding as it flowed in miniature trenches.
As Damien began chanting and the temperature dropped, Cara whimpered.

-X-

"Are you sure about that?" His voice was husky.
Tas narrowed her eyes at him. "Dead sure."

-X-

Cara's voice was high pitched. "Maybe we should go inside." She turned to leave, but Damien's hand on her wrist stopped her.
"Wait," his voice was excited. "Watch."
The blood was swirling, sparking, soaking into the winter-dead ground, bringing it back to life.
Cara gasped in surprised delight.
(but then something went wrong)

-X-

"Then you might want to re-evaluate your knowledge of Hades children," Damien warned her, reaching out to touch her arm with black-blood soaked fingers.
Their surroundings changed.
"I - " Tas' voice faltered. "Is this a Transference?"
Damien nodded.
Tas glanced around at the happy suburban street. "What the hell kind of violent death happens here?"

-X-

(when Damien came to, his sister Cara was dead and gone)

-X-

Tas sobbed as she watched the ritual go wrong.
She turned away as Cara died.
(even though tears poured down his face Damien watched the entire thing. He deserved it; this punishment)

-X-

"What do you mean, you can't bring her back? I'm asking for your help! I'm your son, you have to help me!"
Damien was crying, shaking his fists at his father, at the sky, at the birds in the tree outside his window - but it did him no good.
"No, Damien," his father replied through the Iris message in a despondent tone. "This is just the natural order of things. Your sister is gone, and I can't bring her back."
"You mean won't."
Hades sighed and ran a hand over his face. "She achieved Elysium, if that is of any comfort to you."
It wasn't.
(defiance radiated from him)
Awareness sparked in the god of the dead's eyes. "You will not attempt to raise your sister," he ordered. "You will leave her at rest."
Damien raised an eyebrow cockily. Will I? His expression said.
Frowning, Hades raised his staff. "I block you from the your inborn power of Necromancy until such a time that you are mature enough to use it in compliance with the Laws of Nature," he intoned, before swiping the Iris message and cutting the connection.
Damien collapsed to his knees, clutching the back of his neck with both hands.
(it felt like it was aflame)

-X-

"So that's why you can't raise stuff for shit," Tas gave him an appraising look, as if only just seeing him for the first time. "You just got given so many points in my book."
"Keep watching," Damien told her in a monotone.

-X-

Hades had forgotten something.
Those with eleftheria are beyond the powers of all creatures - including the gods.
Instead of locking away his sons power, he twisted it into something unnatural.

-X-

The sign read PROVIDENCE CEMETERY.
(somewhere in there, Cara lay, in eternal rest)
But not for much longer, Damien promised himself confidently, pushing the wrought iron gates open, wincing as they creaked.

-X-

All these words come undone,
And now I'm not the only one
facing the ghosts
that decide if the fire inside
still burns.

-X-

"You're going to do something stupid, aren't you," Tas said as they followed his younger self into the graveyard. It wasn't a question.
"With me, that's pretty much a given, isn't it?" He asked her.

-X-

"Here lies Cara Mary Gray," Damien read out. "Daughter, sister, friend. 'Only the good die young'."
He took a moment and tried to swallow the lump that had risen in his throat.
Closing his eyes, he focused on his power.
Following his instincts, he sank to his knees, kneeling on top of his sisters grave, sinking his hands into the dirt up to his wrists.
(power - raw, undiluted, pure - flowed from his core into the ground)
He could sense Cara's shell down there.
(an empty vessel)
He began to pump his power into it.
After a while, scrabbling sounds from underground reached his ears.
Scrambling backwards, he wrenched his hands from the grave dirt. Immediately he felt its absence - exhaustion threatened to take him down.
A hand burst from the ground, followed by another. The hands were fish belly white, and torn up and bloody; probably from digging out of a wooden coffin and then six feet of dirt.
The worst of it, though, was the smell.
(like burnt sugar in an unconditioned slaughterhouse in the middle of summer. In the desert)
And the fact that the thing crawling its way out of the grave was not his baby sister.
(it attacked him as soon as it took in the scent of his blood)
"Stop!" He bellowed. Power flowed from his words, and the creature obeyed him.
(then for the second time in a week, he killed his little sister)

-X-

As the Transference ended and they found themselves back in the forest, Tas was silent.
She hugged Damien, hard.
(no words were needed)

-X-

Thalia bit her lip as Renee poured the steaming elixir into an egg cup sized crystal chalice.
(it smelled like death)
"Are you sure this won't...you know, kill me?" She asked anxiously.
Renee tilted her head to the side, eyes growing distant as she thought. "About seventy-five percent sure," she answered quite seriously in a cheerful tone.
Thalia nodded. "Reassuring."
Annabeth and Sofia gave her looks filled with concern and anxiety.
She raised the glass to them in a toast.
(down the hatch)
________________________________________

Feelings twist and turn her heart inside out.
She doesn't know what to feel,
Because she doesn't know what is real
anymore.

-O-

eight.
memory
noun
something remembered from the past, a recollection.

-O-

The sensations racing through Thalia's body were, in a word, jarring.
Her skin flashed from hot to cold, she broke out in a sweat, her tongue and limbs were no longer obeying her commands, and she felt dizzily nauseous.
She saw the panicked, frightened faces of Sofia and Annabeth spinning around her. Their mouths stretched wide open, talking to her, but no sound came out. At least, no sound that she could hear.
She laughed - well, she thought she did - as her legs caved out from underneath her and splotches of black began to spread across her vision.
She had time for one last thought before she was gone.
(well this is one hell of a trip)

-X-

Tas had been silent for a while.
"You mad at me?" Damien asked her. "Do you hate me?"
His sister startled. "What? No," she said. "I pity you, sure...but I don't hate you. You were young and stupid, Damien. What happened wasn't your fault."
Damien closed his eyes and attempted to block out his sisters comforting, understanding words. Yes, he wanted to hear them – needed to, really. But he blocked them out anyway.
(monsters didn't deserve comfort or sympathy; understanding, grief, or sorrow)
Tas shook his shoulder. "Hey. Listen to me when I'm talking to you." She had applied what Damien liked to call her 'elder-and-therefore-wiser' voice.
He spoke over her, pretending she had never said anything. "We need to figure out where we are."
Tas looked confused. "You mean you haven't figured it out yet?"
He raised an eyebrow at her.
She sighed, though she seemed happy that some aspect of her brother's humor - his snark - had returned to him. "We're in a dreamscape, you eejit." She rolled her eye, returning his sarcasm in kind. "And you're leading this quest, why?"
Damien frowned around at their surroundings. "A dreamscape," he mused.
"That is what I said."
He turned his face back to Tas. "How'd you figure it out?"
She emitted a long-suffering sigh. "Lord, save me from morons," she muttered. "Check out our surroundings, Damien," she added.
His gaze swept over the creepy ass forest once again, this time focusing all the more, looking for tell-tale signs of dreamweaving.
Tas straightened next to him. "There," she hissed out, pointing at a tree.
Damien focused on it, and watched, open mouthed, as it wavered in a nonexistent breeze before flickering out of their current reality.
"Holy shit," Nastasya breathed.
In its place stood a dark haired woman.

-X-

Annabeth's heart near stopped when Thalia collapsed. Renee didn't react, saying it was a completely normal after effect of the elixir, and she would be more concerned if it hadn't happened, but force of habit gave birth to crippling panic and fear.
(fear of abandonment; of a loved on leaving her again)
Sofia gripped her tight as she lunged for Renee, snarling like an animal.
The daughter of Trivia backed up fast, fright shining in her eyes.
"Ah, Renee," Chiron murmured to her in aside. "Perhaps it would be best for you to leave now, and come check upon Thalia again later."
Magic's daughter nodded jerkily. "Sounds - sounds like a good idea."
Annabeth calmed down somewhat once she was gone.
Sofia quirked a brow at her. "Bipolar, much?"
Annabeth growled. "Shut up, you have no idea - "
Chiron made a soft sound in his throat. "Annabeth, I believe you should calm down."
Annabeth said some words that Chiron once would've washed out her mouth with soap for using.
The centaur smiled wistfully. "I remember a time when you obeyed me without question."
"Yeah, well, I remember a time when I had to do that to protect a certain eejit named Percy."
Chiron's tail flicked from side to side and his hooves skittered against the veined marble floor.
Sofia looked from one to the other. "Who the hell is Percy?"
"A hero," Annabeth answered. "He was a hero."
Her gaze fell onto Thalia's prone, pale body, and hardened.
"But he's dead now," she said in a cold voice. "So I suppose it doesn't matter."

-X-

(a falling sensation, how ironic)
Thalia's lungs froze up as she looked down and couldn't see the ground.
(just how far up was she falling from?)
Excersise control, Renee's voice spoke in her mind. The dreamscape is just messing with you. It's all in your head, Thalia - assert dominance.
The way Renee had explained it, the dreamscape was an actual plane of reality - another realm. An alternate universe. It took a lot of juice to send someone there, so Thalia and the others were now on their own. Renee could send them messages and help manipulate their world view, but it was up to them to make their own way out.
I'm not falling, Zeus' daughter told herself firmly. I'm not feeling the wind rush past me at three-thousand miles an hour. I'm where Damien and Nastasya are.
The gale buffeting her around faltered as she forced her own reality upon the dreamscape.
As a sibilant whisper began to speak in tongues she did not understand, Thalia realised something.
Much like Tartarus, the dreamscape was not only a place.
It was a sentience. And it was fighting her.
Mine, the air around her seemed to hiss.
It wasn't speaking of Thalia, or of the two Death god children - it was talking about control of her current reality. It had wormed its way into her mind, and was using her worst fears against her; to weaken her all the more.
Bitch, please, she cast out. This is mine.
A hollow cackle shook the world around her. The sensation of falling disappeared.
As did everything else.
Thalia glanced around - at least, she thought she did, the darkness was so complete, so profound, that all physical feeling was lost to her - and saw nothing.
The voice purred in her mind. Pass my trials, and I'll give you free run of my realm, Huntress.
Thalia didn't even have to take a second to consider it. "Deal."
Colours swirled around her, bleeding into the world once more, and Thalia gaped at what reality the sentience had placed her in.
"Mom?"

-X-

I

Sara Grace - once known to all as Sahara, her exotic and much preffered stage name - smiled brightly at her daughter. "Honey, you're not wearing that to your recital, are you?"
Thalia blinked spastically. Trying to be subtle, she turned her body slightly to face the glass door that led to the balcony. Her mouth dropped open at what she saw.
She once again looked about six years old, but she remembered this. She was eight years old, and this was the first night in her entire life that her mom had hit her.
"Thalia, honey?" Sara prompted her daughter.
You must pass my trials, Thalia recalled. There was obviously a test hidden somewhere among this blast from the past, and she had to absolutely get an A to get back to the future. Or present. Whatever.
What had happened in this memory that the spirit had chosen it - besides the beating? She rationalized that that couldn't be it; it was far too easy.
"Thalia," Sara's patience was getting close to snapping.
Then, with the force and weight of a stampeding elephant, it hit her.
If you could have a do-over, a completely blank slate, what would you change?
Annabeth had asked this question of her once - back when life had been simple and she had never heard of Kronos except for some Greek Mythology lessons in grade school which she had hated; partly because the other class was doing a unit on samurais, and partly because Greek Mythology seemed like one big, great, cosmic soap opera - she'd kept expecting Aphrodite's twin sister to come back from the dead, throw Aphrodite down a well, and take over her life.
(and no, she hadn't been watching soap operas - she just knew these things because her mom would never shut up about them)
When little seven-year-old Annabeth had asked her this, she'd brushed it off with a laugh and answered with 'why would I want to do anything over? I've got you and Luke; life is perfect.'
But that hadn't been the whole truth. Four memories had appeared in her head, clear as day.
(this had been one of them)
So, she summarized, she had to change the outcome of this night to the satisfactions of the Sentience to move forward.
"No," she answered her mother, thinking on the fly, "I was thinking I would wear that dress you bought me yesterday."
Sara looked startled but pleased.
Thalia felt that she had figured it out. When she had first arrived in the dreamscape, she had faced two of her worst fears - falling, and heights. Therefore, it made sense that to pass the tests, she had to willingly put herself through uncomfortable - and some downright painful - situations.
The dress she was talking about was a truly atrocious piece of work. It was made of scarlet crushed velvet, and looked like something that an extra from A Christmas Carol would wear. It had horrible lace cuffs and buttoned halfway up the throat.
But she smiled as her mother led her to her bedroom and helped her put it on, even biting her tongue hard enough to draw blood - but she didn't complain.
I have to play my part, she thought. If I fail, we're all dead.
That was almost definitely true. If Thalia failed these trials, the three of them would be stuck in the dreamscape forever - for all intents and purposes, brain dead.
Sara was babbling behind her. "What song did your choir master give you, again?"
Her mind went blank. How the hell was she supposed to remember something as insignificant as that?
Sara tugged a brush through her hair. With a start, Thalia realised that it fell almost to her waist.
"Well?" Her mother said.
"Dona Nobis Pacem?" She hazarded a guess, blurting out the first choir song she recalled.
Thalia wasn't sure, but her mom might have been smiling.

-X-

Well done, the Sentience spoke.
Thalia jumped. She was back in that black place; her mother was gone.
You have passed the first trial, it said.
"Which was?"
You suffered to make your mother happy. You were willing to go onstage without knowing what was expected of you.
Thalia didn't mention she had done that for herself, along with Damien and Nastasya. That probably wouldn't go over well.
Another nauseating whirlwind of light, dark, colour and sound, and she was gone.

-X-

II

"Come on, Gracie," a voice taunted. "You chicken?"
Thalia jolted to. Blinking the sudden sunlight out of her dark-adjusted eyes, she swiveled in the direction of the voice.
And the world tilted around her. Gasping, she looked down, and saw just how high up she was - balancing precariously on the gutter of her school; a four story building.
This memory - this was when her fear of heights had first been born, and the person behind her, the taunting voice - that was Amelia Crelin, blonde bitch extrodanaire.
So, she was ten years old, and fearless. She wasn't scared of heights back then - why would she be? The air was her father's domain, what did she have to fear?
So, when dared, she had done something stupid - she had jumped, expecting her father to protect her.
She had broken her left arm in three places, dislocated her left elbow, and fractured her right tibia.
She had spent almost a month in hospital.
Whenever she had wanted to go back and do this moment over, the solution had seemed simple - ignore the damn taunts, and step away from the edge.
But, she mused, that didn't fit with the Sentience's MO. It had to cause her some sort of pain or discomfort.
What if, her traitorous mind voice whispered, you have to jump?
Thalia gave her mental voice the mental equivalent of a raised brow. How would that work?
Don't trust your father to save you, it suggested. Save yourself.
It sounded easy, in theory. And Jason could do it, even though he was in his late thirties - or was it early forties now?
But crippling terror sang through her veins.
You can't afford to fail, she reminded herself.
And she jumped.

-X-

She stuck the landing, too - perfect form, if she did say so herself.
Well done, Sky child, the Sentience whispered. Its praise was grudging, but genuine. You would have landed rather painfully if I had not pulled you out when I did, but your courage was true. You have passed my second trial. Only three more to go.
Thalia braced herself.

-X-

III

There was something warm and soft underneath her - a blanket?
Blinking, Thalia pushed herself into a semi-sitting position, using her elbows as elevation.
Her heart sank as she recognized her surroundings.
A beautiful park. Laughing kids. A picnic spread out all around her.
Mom, her, and Jason, enjoying their last meal together before Hera - Juno, whatever - took him, and Thalia's slow descent into pure hatred of her mother began.
"You kay, Thals?" Jason blinked at his big sister with all the innocence a toddler can muster.
She bravely tried to hold back the tears that were burning behind her eyes. "Yeah," she whispered. "I'm fine, Jase."
This time, she didn't even have to think about what to change.
She knew, somehow, that she could refuse to say 'yes' to her mother when asked to take things back to the car, and she would be able to remain in this illusion, would be able to grow up with Jason in an alternate universe.
But she'd fail the test. Damien and Nastasya would remain stuck here.
How to pass? The answer was clear to her - as clear as day.
It was also simple. All she had to do was let it play out like it had in real-time. Let Jason get taken. Go through the pain of losing her brother once again.
Sara's eyes were haunted. She opened her mouth to speak to her eldest child - she didn't want Thalia to see this.
But Thalia spoke before she could. "I'm going for a walk."
As she left the picnic, the world around her faded directly into the scene of her next test - she didn't need to go to the black place to know she'd passed.
(it was evident in the tears on her face; the pain in her heart, and the marks they left)

-X-

IV

The picturesque park was gone.
In its place was – Half-Blood Hill?
Thalia glanced around her slowly.
Big mistake. A taloned hand made contact with her skull and pain exploded within her.
Fuck. Even though she was essentially dreaming, sensations were as real here as they were in the physical reality - pain included, unfortunately.
A hand grabbed her just below the elbow. It was large and strong - male.
Force of habit had her shoving aforementioned elbow backwards into said males gut.
"Ouch," he complained. "Thalia, it's me."
Oh, fuck no, Thalia thought. She whirled, and sure enough, Luke Castellan stood there, a seven-year-old Annabeth by his side.
Thalia's throat closed. What was she supposed to change about this scenario?
The answer came unbidden. Let Luke sacrifice himself for you. He deserves it.
"You're bleeding!" Annabeth cried out.
Thalia was jerked back into this reality by Annabeth's lisping voice. Right, she was missing her two front teeth.
"Thalia, they'll be back," Luke hissed, gaze roving the sky, watching for Alecto, Tisiphone, and Megaera.
"Not just yet," she promised. "We'll have time."
No, we won't.
Grover appeared. "Thalia, I need to get you to safety." He fidgeted nervously.
This was it. Her moment.
Throw Luke to the wolves, a voice snarled in her mind. It's only justice.[/]
But what came out of her mouth was, "take the others to safety. I'll stall them."
Grover gasped in dismay, and Luke's teeth came together with a sharp clack. Annabeth glanced between all their faces, looking slightly confused.
"[i]No," he ground out. "Thalia, no."
He looked like she was twisting the proverbial dagger deeper into his gut. "I'll stay," he whispered. "You and Annabeth get to camp."
Thalia shook her head - still slightly surprised at her actions - leant forward, and did what she'd been to cowardly the first time round.
She kissed him - hard, and on the lips.
I'm technically not breaking my vow, she thought as she pulled away from the stunned son of Hermes.
She gave him a light shove on the direction of the camp. "Carry on, my wayward son," she told him; an inside joke between the two of them. Luke nodded and scooped Annabeth up, running for the hill. Grover sent her one last, frantic look before hauling tail up the hill as fast as his goat legs would allow.
Alecto swooped in with her sisters. "Wise choice, brat," she hissed out.
Thalia closed her eyes and braced herself for the blow that was sure to come.

-X-

When she opened her eyes, she was standing in the black place.
"So, I failed that test, huh?"
Quite the opposite, actually.
Thalia screwed up her face. "Wasn't I supposed to get Luke killed?"
No. You were supposed to be willing to sacrifice yourself once again for your friends, knowing what you do about them now. You were supposed to show that your warm heart is bigger than your calculating brain. You passed with flying colours.
Thalia sighed with relief.
Final test, the Sentience warned her. I wish you luck.

-X-

V

The sounds of a battlefield greeted her.
She looked around wildly. And gasped in recognition.
(the sounds of bullets and screams and nononono)
This was the battle in which Perseus Jackson died.
In that moment, Thalia knew exactly what she had to do. The test was obvious.
She'd proven how willing she was to die for her loved ones - but how ready was she to kill for them?
The answer was as simple as breathing – I was born ready, bitches.
She raised her bow, and shot arrows into each of the enemy snipers before they ever got a chance to get within aims reach of her cousin.
(preemptive defense)
A sharp stab of agony came from her back.
(dagger through the spinal cord)
As she collapsed to her knees and her eyes began to grow heavy, she saw one last thing - Percy and Annabeth; working together, a vicious whirlwind - killing every enemy within their vicinity.
She smiled as she died.
(totally worth it)

-X-

Thalia came to in a forest made of creepy ass trees.
She whirled in confusion. She was now her true age - not twelve, not eight, not ten - and wearing the same clothes she had been in the other reality - the physical one.
Congratulations, Artemis' lieutenant, the Sentience said. Your friends lie within. You have free reign of the realm, but if you attempt to rescue any others besides your friends...
It let the threat hang.
"Relax," Thalia said. "If nothing else, I just got a hefty lesson about the natural order of things."
She wandered further into the trees, unslinging her bow and notching an arrow, ready to shoot at a moment’s notice.
In a way, she was glad for what the Sentience did.
She hadn't felt so alive in fucking years.

-X-

Eidyia frowned. "What do you mean, Freedom is gone from our sights?"
"He appears to be in the dreamscape, ma'am."
Eidyia closed her eyes and hissed in frustration - one of the only emotions she seemed capable of feeling. "Apate," she hissed menacingly.
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[¥]
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Fairly long chapter, hmm? I do try.
Some things to be noted - much like Eidyia, Apate is not an OC; at least, not in the sense that I created her. However, her realm, appearance, personality...that is all me. I call artistic license.
And, yes, Thalia-centric chapter, because why the hell not. I don't actually swear that much...but I thought that she might have a bit of a potty mouth, so...
See y'all next time?
- Jose
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