Here is my very first fan fiction from the world of Percy Jackson and the Olympians. I do hope you guys would find the time to read it and let me know if it's any good by reviewing.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters mentioned in this except for the protagonist who happened to be created by my own imagination as well as the plot. I am merely divulging into the Olympian world of Rick Riordan's.
…
Peace, she sighed, letting herself be overcame by the calmness.
Standing with such poise, she slowly spread out her hands with her palms facing upward. Her hair of golden swayed along with the playful breeze. Her concealed yet taking in everything that her senses can grasp. The swish of the wind went along with the disposition, as if whispering to her ears, its touch as if caressing her body. The chirping of the birds passing by, even the faraway noise from the city down below suppressed her.
But somehow, the lone girl had shut off the outside world, hearing nothing but her own deep breaths, feeling nothing but her own heartbeat, just the way she liked it. If only she could fly and forget all her troubles… Maybe she can. No one can stop her now.
With the graceful move of a ballerina, she deliberately raised her heels, tiptoeing, about to let the air carry her.
Out of sudden, there came a flapping sound.
A small smile formed on her face. She had been expecting this.
"I didn't think you'd come this early," she murmured.
There was no response; nothing but the familiar fluttering.
She laughed, relaxing her stance while gradually dropping her arms. Pausing for a moment, the girl opened her eyes. Nevertheless, her vision filled with the same darkness. Only an almost blinding aura in the shape of a man crossed her sight. A light that can only be emitted by an immortal, situated just a few inches from her. But in her dreams, she knew every part of this being.
"It's funny, isn't it?" she laughed softly. "Who is that girl who was named after Atalanta, the great huntress, leaving her own mark in the history of the Ancient Greek? Who is she whose parents are Annabeth and Percy Jackson, two of the greatest heroes of all time? That girl who's also a descendant of Athena, goddess of wisdom and Poseidon, god of the sea, the very girl to lookout for, what can she do? Who can she become?"
A gust swept over, turning the warm and tranquil atmosphere to cold and apprehensive. The other creatures seemed to have inferred the abrupt change and quickly dispersed from the area.
"Much to everyone's disbelief, this girl had been nothing but disappointment," she added. "I, Atalanta, am not only born a blind but do not seem to have inherited any of my parents' abilities. I am not wise and tactical like my mother nor can I control the water like my father."
Atalanta protectively wrapped her arms around her stomach, cradling it. "Then again, no one would believe that what lives inside me is actually the child of death. No one would expect for that to happen. Am I right, Thanatos?"
The aura remained unmoved. Only the fluttering sound could be heard, proving the presence of the god.
"The one who reaps the souls would only care about doing his job. Would he care if it would be his son who he'd bring to the underworld? Would it matter?"
"Of course being a god, I'm sure you would know how a blind woman was able to climb the tallest building in New York. Who would imagine that the unborn would have wings and could even fly and carry me… on my own deathbed? Such a strange similarity to his own father. The strong desire to experience death even for his own mother?"
"Hmmm," Thanatos hummed thoughtfully.
The sound of his deep voice made Atalanta's heartbeat quicken. Even with her strongest attempt to appear indifferent, she knew the god would not be fooled. Somehow, she recovered.
"Truly this is what you want?" she challenged.
"I can never want anything," Thanatos replied with emotionless voice. "Death doesn't choose the soul to take. Only when the right time comes, does death appear."
"Then tell me lord of death, is it my time?"
"Your time depends upon you. Your fate lies on whatever choice you're going to make at this instance."
A choice, Atalanta thought bitterly.
How unfair death can be. She once made a choice… A choice she still stood for until now. A choice of the man to love.
Then again, Thanatos never seized to be just a man. He was never a man. He existed neither to love nor to be loved by a mere human being. Yet what's inside of Atalanta contradicts every fact.
I can never want anything. How cruel the fates can be.
"Tell me, Thanatos," she murmured. "Why are you here?"
It did not surprise Atalanta that her unworldly companion continued to be wordless. He never really owed her any explanation; the perks of being a stupid god. It did not make things less frustrating for the demigod. For some reason, Thanatos was deemed unlike the others.
There ensued thousands of literatures written for these immortals, telling stories of what they did and who they were, revealing their very nature to the earth. Yet this soul reaper, whom history described as ruthless and emotionless when it comes to mortals and even others of his kind, confused Atalanta in so many ways. Every bit of circumstances that brought her and Thanatos together was unpredictable. The answer to why these all happened remained a mystery.
Nevertheless, Atalanta felt happy. She never feared death. In fact, she embraced it. That may have probably been what draws Hades' lieutenant to her even until this very hour. Her frequent search for this providence led to this mischief. But it turned to be a beautiful mischief.
And so, she can irrevocably say that she had lived life as best as she could or as she was required to do so. In this temporal world, she had but few beautiful memories. And these memories consisted mostly of her encounters with demise. So why linger in the living when she can find much happiness in the darkness? Darkness beyond the absence of her sight. Darkness wherein she won't experience any suffering or pain. Darkness near him, the only luminance in her existence.
Impossible was the word to describe the love between a mortal and this immortal. The assurance that such sentiment could have occurred seemed untrue it was almost blasphemous. And yes, Atalanta, the blind girl also had a blind heart. Yet she decided to endure this path anyway.
"Thank you," she smiled sadly.
Alas, Atalanta uttered her goodbye to the prison hell that had always restricted her. As she slowly raised her arms with her eyes closed, she bid farewell to every human being she had met that mattered. With all the love in her heart, she apologized to her parents and to her ancestors. She prayed to her grandparents to pass on her love to the two people who genuinely cared about her.
Gradually, the heaviness in her chest dispersed with tears falling from her eyes. With this came her acceptance to the invitation to let go of her humanity. Soon, she was one with the breeze, exhausting all of her except her soul.
Finally, she thought contentedly. Finally I'm at peace.