Reflections
A hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap.
Am I really a hero? Luke thought as he tapped his fingers on the edge of the cliff. Was the prophecy really about me?
He held on tight to the tree root that was keeping him from getting pulled into Tartarus. He was already dead. And if he let go, there was no going back.
He couldn't leave. He had promised Annabeth and Thalia a family, no matter what. And he was going to fulfill his promise.
I betrayed them, he thought. I already broke my promise.
His grip started to slip. He was falling in.
Suddenly, a hand clasped his. Astonished, he looked up. Thalia was holding his hand.
"Miss me?" she asked, grinning at him.
"Thalia, what are you doing here?" Luke was alarmed. "You're not...dead, are you?"
"Of course I am, stupid. What else would I be doing in the Underworld?" Thalia rolled her eyes. "And since I'm no longer a Huntress of Artemis, I'm allowed to associate with boys."
"Technically, this isn't really associating. What you're doing is more like saving my soul." Luke laughed, trying to lighten the mood.
"I'm trying to help you!" Thalia protested.
"When has Thalia Grace ever wanted to help someone?" Luke wondered sarcastically.
"When the said someone is about to fall into a period of extreme torture without me," answered Thalia seriously.
"You would fall into Tartarus for me?" Luke was amazed.
"You promised me a family. You can't have a family if you're not together." Thalia's eyes grew wide. Her grip loosened, then tightened.
"I love you," he whispered, staring anxiously at the fraying tree root. They only had a few moments left.
"I love you too," she whispered back before letting go.
And they fell.