Forgotten
You are somewhere you don't recognize. Perhaps it's one of your dreams again—ones of some past that never was. But it seems different this time. There is nothing. A black empty void in front of your eyes. And suddenly there's a bright flash. You desperately try to grab it, try to see what it hides, but it's already gone. Disappeared into the darkness.
What is this place? It seems so familiar, but yet so foreign at the same time.
A fleeting glimpse of brilliant sea green in your peripheral vision catches your eye, and you whip your head around. It melts into a raven black, before vanishing entirely. Somehow, you would always see those two colors—sea green and raven black. Perhaps it was some sign you weren't able to read.
You feel your mind struggling—struggling to place why these two colors are so important to you. At last, one word surfaces in your mind. Olympus.
You frown involuntarily, as you always do when there is something you just don't understand. Olympus? Something is triggered in your mind, and there is a sudden sequence of words flashing past your eyes. The knife. The battle. The end. Olympians. Before you can ponder those seemingly random words, you hear your voice floating back to you—You're cute when you're worried. Your eyebrows get all scrunched together. You hear someone's voice answering. You are not going to die while I owe you a favor. Why did you take that knife? Your voice again. You would've done the same for me. The voices melt away, leaving you more bewildered than ever.
You had never before held a knife in your hands, much less wielded one into battle. And when did you ever take a knife for anyone? The questions hang unspoken in your mind, haunting you. When did you fight side by side for someone? When did you almost risk your life for someone you didn't even know?
You are only one person. And one person can only accomplish so much in their lifetime.
You're Annabeth Chase. Star student and athlete of West High School. A well-liked person by almost everyone.
Not whoever those memories are showing you.
You feel as though you're missing a huge piece of your life. It's a constant aching, a constant loneliness for something—someone that you've never met. You hide it behind a cheerful facade, convincing yourself that everything is wonderful. Everything is right and just in your world.
But somehow—just somehow, you know you're lying to yourself. You're just deceiving yourself into believing something that just isn't true, something that is only delaying you from seeing the truth.
The flashbacks and memories are gradually increasing in detail and frequency. You occasionally hear a person's voice guiding you, teasing you, and even sometimes just talking to you, somehow giving you a slight respite from the constant ache of loneliness. A sudden sea breeze might blow your way, inspiring a spark of beautiful sea green in your mind. Whenever you see the ocean, you have a tug, a drawing attraction to the water, pulling, calling to you. Sometimes, when you manage to sneak out of your house, you stand there for hours on the end, sand beneath your feet, the waves' constant movement lulling you into a peaceful trance. It's always then you get a flashback.
Now you know there was once a boy in your life. One you cared about, one who had been by your side for many hard trials. But he doesn't fit in your life. When did you meet him? Where is he now? Who is he?
Your life's timeline, your life's memories don't allow him to have known you. But somehow, he was there. He was in your life.
Perhaps your mind is playing tricks on you. Maybe every memory, every day, every single moment in your life is fake—planted there by someone else. Perhaps you were once someone different. Perhaps you once lead a very different life.
You're Annabeth Chase, a girl made of false pretenses and lies. A girl who may have lived more than once. A girl who isn't sure whether her existence in her world is right or wrong.
There is a new girl at school. You know she is familiar—electric blue eyes, spiky black hair, an aura around her warning everyone to stay away. Yet you seem strangely drawn to her, the way you are unreasonably drawn to the ocean.
Her name is Thalia, you learn. Thalia Grace. When you test it out, the name rolls from your tongue, as natural as the wind blowing past. You've said it before, you realize. You've said her name before, more times than you can count.
You catch her staring at you a couple of times during class. In her eyes as she looks at you, there is a spark of recognition, and you know she's seen you before too. Somewhere. Somewhere, sometime in your other life.
You wonder about her. Thalia Grace. Olympus. The boy. A knife, a battle, the Olympians. How did she fit in?
After the bell rings and you've gathered up your stuff, you see her approaching you. Perhaps she could tell you something. Perhaps she could lead you out of the confusing maze of lies and deceptions that you've built around yourself.
Your name flies from her mouth as though she's said it millions of times over. She has, a tiny voice in your head whispers. She has.
She repeats your name, more urgent this time. There is another war. Chaos is coming for us. Quick, you need to help. Camp can only hold on so long.
It leaves you confused, more puzzled than you had ever been. Camp? What camp? And who is Chaos?
The expression on Thalia's face nearly shatters your heart to pieces. She looks hopeful, yet that tiny sliver of hope manifesting itself in her eyes is slowly being crushed. Annabeth? Annabeth, is that you?
Yes, that's me.
Please, she seems on the verge of tears. Please, Annabeth. Please tell me you're just pretending.
Pretending to do what? Just a simple phrase from you seems enough to break her almost completely.
The hope, that tiny light in her blue eyes is gone, hidden in the oceans of despair written all over her face. She's in shock, you realize. She's still scrutinizing you, almost willing you to say that yes, you are pretending. That yes, you understand what she is saying, but the truth is laid out, plain and simple, in front of her disbelieving eyes. No. No no no no no no. This can't be happening. I can't lose you too...it's been months, Annabeth. Months since you disappeared. I was hoping...I guess it was too much to hope for….
What? The more Thalia speaks, the more you find yourself perplexed by what she said.
You've lost your memory, Annabeth. This...she gestures vaguely at the crowded school. This isn't your life. When—if you remember, come find us. You'll know where. With one last sorrowful glance in your direction, she turns and dejectedly trudges away from you, leaving you almost rooted in place with her cryptic words.
Wait, you want to call to her. Wait, do you know who the boy was in my other life? But you stay silent, and your chance slowly slips away.
You're Annabeth Chase, a girl who lost her memories. A girl who knows that everything is not what it seems. A girl who is confused, wondering if this life she is leading is her life at all.
The edges of reality and imagination are blurring for you, your dreams and fantasies leaking into your life. You know something is wrong, but you don't know what. You've lost your memory, Annabeth. You hear Thalia's voice echoing in your mind. You've lost your memory.
But that can't be true...you have all your memories, from scattered recollections in your early toddler years, to what you had done just yesterday. Unless...they weren't true. They weren't your memories at all—just another cruel trick fate had played on you.
You refuse to believe it. You refuse to believe that your whole life is a lie, just another deception you've been feeding yourself.
You've been avoiding Thalia, and she's been avoiding you. The next time you see her, she's fighting a monstrous creature in an alleyway, her movements almost like dancing. You watch her with a mixture of fear, panic, intense curiosity, and a certain familiarity to it. One part of you that surfaces suddenly urges you to find something—anything that can be used as a weapon and help her. The other part of you scoffs at the idea and holds you back, screaming that you should be feeling fear, you should be feeling panic and apprehension.
Thalia spots you as you stand there, almost unable to move. Annabeth!
It's so familiar that you spring into action without even thinking twice. Scanning the area, you spot a broken shard of glass lying on top of a pile of rubble on the ground and you sprint over, snatching it and falling into a perfectly natural battle stance. It's almost involuntary, the reaction to her call.
You move on your own accord, analyzing the monster closely.
Daughter of Athena, it hisses, forgetting Thalia for the moment. When you only stare blankly at it, it laughs, a cackling laugh that sends shivers down your spine. I see Mnemosyne has done her job well.
Beside you, Thalia narrows her eyes. You can tell that she wants to say something, but chooses against it.
Slayer of Arachne and Savior of Olympus, hmmm? Yet you stand here before me, just a pitiful little demigod who lost her memory. You can't even wield a sword to save your life. It chuckles, the best a monster can, before continuing. Of course, I mean that quite literally. I remember you and that boy…Jackson, was it? It was worthy fighting with you two. But here I am again…and this time, you won't get away.
You do realize, you taunt it, that you've given me information? Information that could help me recover what I knew? Your mind is whirring, processing what the monster had just said. Slayer of Arachne. Savior of Olympus. Jackson. It must've been the boy's name—either first or last. At the name, flashes of sea green and raven black appear before fading away.
It hisses in outrage, before eyeing both Thalia and you warily. Enough small talk. More action. With that, it lunges at us, claws extended. You snap out of your motionless revere, slashing the shard of glass towards its unguarded left side, while Thalia counters it with her aegis. What you didn't account for was how rapidly it moved. Quick as a viper, it strikes you on the side, leaving four bloodied gashes.
The pain is astounding—it's nothing like you've ever felt before in your...you can't even call your life yours anymore. And yet, it seems strangely familiar, like everything else surrounding Thalia and her appearance.
Somehow, you manage to fight on, dulling the pain to a pounding undercurrent, always there, but never surfacing. Your breaths are coming in ragged gasps, but you're still fighting. Still slashing, parrying, and dodging, moving fluidly and gracefully, just like Thalia.
In the end, when your knife plunges through the monster and it explodes into yellow dust, you stare disbelievingly at the blade. What on earth had just happened? You might think that it was all just another dream, another fantasy, that when you open your eyes you will be in your bed, your classroom, the park, anywhere but here. But no. You are still here, standing in the middle of a deserted alleyway, a pile of glittering dust at your feet where a snarling monster once stood.
Shakily, you steady your quivering hand and take in a deep breath. What...what just happened?
Thalia grimaced, shrinking her aegis into the silver bracelet that she always wore. I...this...She pauses, as if thinking through her next words carefully. This, Annabeth, is your life. The life you lead before.
You can only stare, questions multiplying by the second in your mind at the important information just thrown your way. You can barely process what is happening. I...what?
You're a demigod. Half-mortal and half-god. You know Greek Mythology, right?
A demigod. You are a demigod. It fits into your mind, giving you with a sense of rightness, of a blank in your life suddenly filled. Of course I do.
Well, it's all real. All of it. All the gods, creatures, monsters, everything. Thalia sighs. You were—are a daughter of Athena. The goddess of—
Wisdom and war, I know. Memories upon memories start flowing in at the information. The Athena Parthenos. Arachne. The webs—that one strand. The cliff, and that voice, so desperate, yet so determined. We're staying together. You're not getting away from me. Never again.
You don't realize that you've whispered it out loud until Thalia's face lifts with thinly veiled hope. You remember?
Some of it. You wince as a sharp jab of pain sears through your body. Thalia notices and scrambles to take a square of something, handing it to you.
Here. Ambrosia. It'll heal that wound. You accept it and immediately feel the pain draining away, lessening to a minor irritation. Ambrosia. Another word springs into your mind at the mention of it. Nectar. Pieces of the puzzle are falling into place, one by one, completing a blank picture that was your life. That used to be your life.
Your thoughts are interrupted when a face appears in midair, glittering in the meager sunlight that filters its way through the roofs of the apartments surrounding the alley. Thalia. You need to come back; there aren't enough people. Why are you still there? The voice is almost frantic, bordering on desperate. You know that she's a lost cause.
She remembers, is all Thalia says in response. She knows...at least, a little bit.
The person's voice is filled with hope. You think she might be able to come back?
She might. She still doesn't know much, but she's Annabeth. She will find out, sooner or later.
Is that her? It takes you a moment to figure out that she is talking about you.
Yeah.
She's...what happened? Her ever-shifting eyes are drawn towards your wound, the blood still soaking through your shirt. She fought?
Monster attack. She responded without even thinking. You're on the side, watching this exchange in strange fascination. Another word pops up in your mind. Iris message. Before you can ponder what it means, you're sucked back into the conversation.
Annabeth?
Yeah?
Do you remember me? Thalia steps sideways so you can see the girl better. You feel like you should know her...there's a tingling at the back of your mind as you scan her features. Brown hair, kaleidoscope eyes, an overall Cherokee look and air about her. You shake your head in frustration at the inability to come up with something—anything at all. At the gesture, her face drops in obvious disappointment. Oh. Well then, I'm Piper.
Mclean? You finish off for her, the name leaping unbidden from your mouth.
She visibly brightens at this. You do remember.
Some. I...You hate asking for help. You always have, but you know all the same that now isn't the time to play high and mighty. I need help most of the time to remember something.
What else do you remember?
Your face scrunches together in concentration. Words are swirling around and around frantically in your mind. A battle. The Olympians—Olympus. I defeated Arachne? You pause, and Piper nods in encouragement. I'm a Savior of Olympus...I was somewhere dark and...I guess it seemed evil. Thalia whispers something that sounds like Tartarus, and memories and words leap into your mind at the word. Shivering at the images they're showing you, you shove them away continue on. I...took...a knife for someone. I think it was the boy. I know we've been through a lot. I think he was there...wherever the place was. I...You stop abruptly and look up, both at Piper and Thalia, almost unwilling to reveal how you feel towards him. That's it, pretty much.
You can see that Thalia couldn't help the slightly teasing grin that slips onto her face. You still remember him?
You blush involuntarily, then immediately regret your reaction to what she had said, trying to hide your emotions under a mask. Something you were abnormally skilled at. Sort of. I guess you could say I remember some of the things that concerns him.
Piper squeals in excitement before clapping a hand over her mouth. Thalia almost laughs at her outburst. Not an Aphrodite girl, huh, Piper?
Ignoring Thalia and her jab, Piper's next words are a jumble of breathlessness, hopefulness, and joy. He'll be so glad to know that you're alive! From anyone else, in any other situation, you realize, the words would sound almost depressing. Alive. Not well. Alive. Still on the face of this earth, still living, breathing, still here. And suddenly you see how your world has changed. Nothing is granted. Tomorrow isn't promised. You might die. The thought doesn't frighten you like it should, but a wave of apprehension sweeps through you, chilling you to the bone. Not because you are afraid of death. No, it's because you will die not knowing. Not knowing who the boy was, not knowing your life before. You will forever be trapped in ignorance and wonderings, aware of only the lies. The fantasies fabricated and told by both you and someone else.
Piper turns and leaves one last message before rushing off. Bring Annabeth. We'll need her. And she is gone, leaving only a deserted alleyway and golden-orange sunlight gracing the ground.
Before you turn towards Thalia, before you start on a journey of the unknown, you know. You're not the same. You never will be. Because you left behind that girl—that girl confused and wandering aimlessly, searching for a purpose. That girl that was but a hollow, emptied out shell of her former self. You are someone different, changed by knowledge.
You are Annabeth Chase, daughter of Athena. A demigod. Slayer of Arachne, Hero of Olympus, a girl who accomplished much more than you would've ever thought. A girl who had a purpose, something—someone to truly live for.
Perhaps it's the clipped, brief explanations that Thalia gives in response to your questions about your past that makes you realize that you've changed. You're in between—belonging in neither the demigod world, nor the mortal one. You know too little, yet to much to be accepted into either one. And you hate this, absolutely despise the feeling.
You've been let down all your life, excluded in almost everything. Until you found Camp. Until you found the safe haven you always believed you would belong in.
But now that has left you, too.
On the many sleepless nights that come as you journey across the country with Thalia, you stare up at the glittering stars, trying to find something. Perhaps answers. Perhaps someone you once knew. And somehow, you find a slight respite—just like in all those novels you always seem to be reading—knowing that somewhere, the boy is sleeping under these same stars that you are gazing at now.
Your mind fails you. You remember barely anything that you previously knew, no matter how hard you grasp at those faint memories. Thalia tries to help, but she only can conjure up few, scattered recollections of your previous life. She tells you stories of what you've done, what your former self was like. You know she's clinging on to the desperate hope that you could be who you were before. But you can't, and somewhere inside her, she knows you can't too.
No matter how much you repeat those stories, those wild tales of what you had accomplished, in your mind, you just are not connected to them. They are someone else's memories, not yours. And no matter how much you try—try to feel the rush of adrenaline that comes when you relive moments in battle; try to feel what it was like to be blind, abandoned, and alone in a cruel place with no one there beside you; try to feel what you did before for people you knew you had known, had laughed with, had fought alongside, had shared irreplaceable memories with you, and yet are strangers all the same; try to feel...you; the stubbornness, the pride, the finely tuned thinking and strategies, everything that makes you what you are—you can't. Because you weren't truly there—at least, in your consciousness of your alternate reality.
It was a simple problem. Someone somehow removed your previous memories, and in their place, constructed new ones.
But sometimes, the simplest problems leads to the most complex messes. Perhaps it wouldn't have been as...problematic and troublesome had you not have been a demigod. You never would've known, never would've had discovered who you were. Never would've found yourself in this mess. But you were one to believe Fate—that everything happened for a reason. That no matter what, all your actions and everyone else's actions will lead to the same result. Prophecies were the gloomy truth of that.
Do you want this life? The question keeps you awake, turning over and over in your mind. Did you? Where every motion, every action will remind you of something that you lost? Something you cannot remember? Where, for once in your life, you cannot meet everyone's expectations?
When finally, you fall asleep, by some small miracle, dreams haunt you. Dreams that are more like erratic flashes of memories than anything else. Slowly, faces that you once knew like the back of your hand come back into focus, details sharpening with every passing day. Piper was there. Thalia. Jason Grace, you one day learn. A boy with shockingly blond hair and intense blue eyes—the only trait that he shared with his sister. Names come back, albeit hesitantly and gradually. Leo Valdez. The cheerful Hispanic boy who could conjure fire. Hazel Levesque. A sweet, shy girl who came from the past with the gift of summoning cursed jewels. Frank Zhang. A boy who could die at the hands of burning a single piece of firewood; a boy who could shapeshift into any animals he desired. You were there, you know that. But that last name—the last of the Seven continuously eludes you. Thalia's cousin. Seaweed Brain, Kelp Head, as she refers to him as. Son of Poseidon. The boy. Sea green eyes, raven black hair. Fun-loving, cheerful, a bit blunt and a little slow sometimes. You know so much about him already that you don't care nearly as much with the name.
A name is just a name.
Names have power. Yes, it was true. But many times, names were the key to unlocking someone. Names were the start of knowing, truly understanding someone.
When you knew—know someone so thoroughly that they are almost a part of you, the need to know their name lessens. Not that anyone except you was ever put in such bizarre a situation—knowing someone before knowing his or her name.
Day by day, you and Thalia travel closer to your destination. Day by day, your memories become sharper, more vivid. Names, places, concepts that were lost fade back into your mind. You construct a blueprint—growing more detailed by the day—of your past life, of everything that was there before.
You never have lost sense of time like you have now, falling into a steady routine every day. Weeks, even a month pass in a blur of contemplation, stories of the past, memories, and barely fending off monsters bent on destroying both you and Thalia.
Until you're back. Long Island, New York. Camp Half-Blood. Home. The place where you felt accepted, after all those years on the streets. The place where you've been anticipating, yet dreading the whole time. You hesitate, something you know you wouldn't have done in the past. And then you step through the barrier, and are surrounded by the past.
You're Annabeth Chase, daughter of Athena. A girl who lost her memories, has worked to get them back. A girl who is straining, struggling to be who she was before, although she knows that she never will be. A girl who changed—fitting in neither the demigod world nor mortal one.
You have but five minutes of rest and reunions before they attack. Information, both old and new, are suddenly bombarding your mind. A new daughter of Zeus. A new prophecy. Piper, hugging you tightly while telling you the news. Leo, covered in machine oil and grease, the trusty toolbelt never leaving his side. Clarisse, as friendly and welcoming as always. Travis and Connor, keeping up the pranks on the cabins, lightening the somber mood. You never get the chance to ask them about the boy before a bell sounds. An alarm.
Chiron appears on the porch. They're attacking Olympus.
Immediately, the lighthearted mood of your return gives way to a solemn, serious air hovering over the campers.
Prepare for battle.
Everyone around seemingly knows what they're doing—where to go. You should know, you sense. You should. But you don't. Thalia rescues you. Go to your cabin. All your stuff should be there, including your weapons. That's all you need for memories of battles and the moments before to flood into your mind.
Got it from there, you reassure her. You need to prepare yourself.
Flashing you a smile, she runs off to retrieve her own weapons and armor. Sighing, you pick your way towards your cabin, slowly, all the while contemplating your situation. You can survive in battle, you know that. But you've been so out of touch with camp and who exactly was attacking that you have absolutely no idea what you're up against.
It isn't until you stand, assembled, with the rest of camp that you realize just how dire the situation is. Chaos. The creator of the world. Here, to fight against the gods.
There was practically no doubt in who would win the fight.
But you and camp have defeated the odds before. You all have beaten Kronos, who could slow down time, and Gaea, who controlled the very earth you were standing on. Both of which were supremely powerful beings that could kill you without batting an eyelash. Both of which fell in a war between the half-bloods.
There is still the majority of you that doubts yourself, doubts your situation. Kronos needed Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter separately to defeat his forces. Gaea needed them united to conquer her. But Chaos—ruler of the universe, the most supremely powerful being in existence? What would it take to defeat him?
You launch yourself into battle with Chaos' forces, each trained from a small age to wield weapons with deadly accuracy and precision. It's a losing fight, and everyone seems to know it. There's no thinking ahead at a time like this—every second is concentrated on fighting to survive a minute more. A second more. You live in the moment, trusting your reflexes to carry you out of harm's way. Around you, you're not sure how many of your friends drop, how many enemies fall at the half-bloods' blades and arrows. But there are always more soldiers, denoted by the black uniform speckled with silver dots and an armband circling the right arm, announcing their rank. Always more of them, threatening to overwhelm the half-bloods' relatively meager forces.
There are breaks, sometimes only lasting 15 minutes or so, some others lasting hours. Everyone is spread thin, trying to hold their ground. The Hunters of Artemis, Camp Jupiter, and even the Amazons are helping your side, but they have suffered significant losses as well. It wouldn't be too long until the war is lost, and Olympus is destroyed.
And it all came down to one day. The final day, they say. Either we win at the end, or they do. This is it.
It would be the last day your forces could hold out, either to emerge triumphant, or fall along with Olympus. Tired and battle-weary, you trudge out along with your camp, prepared for the oncoming battle.
In the midst of bloodshed, weapons, people falling onto the ground, you spot a blur of sea green. The boy.
Now, of all times, you find yourself distracted. Gritting your teeth, you concentrate harder. Focus, you need to focus. Or else you will die. You see him in flashes and glimpses, in the short gaps of time needed for another soldier to take the previous one's place.
Suddenly, things seem to go still abruptly. A figure looms above the battle, casting a shadow upon many foes and friends alike. Chaos, is all you can think as you stare at the primordial being. Stars and galaxies speckle the otherwise black floor-length cloak covering him. It wasn't black, actually...more of a darkness that threatened to swallow any light that dared come near it. He's in his human form, at least, appearing human in everything except height. In one instant, he shrinks down to the same size as regular half-bloods and mortals, disappearing into the crowd of demigods and soldiers. The fight resumes, and you spot someone fighting him. Foolish. Most surely, no one could battle him.
A gap opens in the midst of the action, and you let your guard down, if only for a moment, straining to see whoever it was. The boy. Exactly as you had remembered him. A circle had cleared around the two as they fought, as if everyone knew to avoid the pair or else be accidentally annihilated by the creator of the world.
Seeing him, a name springs to your lips. Percy. Percy Jackson. And the last piece of the puzzle fits into place.
You slowly, painstakingly fight your way through the crowd of people, towards him. Percy. Not 'him'. Not 'the boy'. Percy. You're torn between helping him or staying back, letting him fight his own battle. He can handle it on his own. But what if he can't? You're arguing with yourself, splitting yourself into two.
They're taunting each other. Percy, with sarcasm and mockery. Chaos, with disdainment and condescension. Enraged at a cheeky comment Percy made, Chaos suddenly splits into two copies of him, both circling Percy. One of them distracts, taunting Percy and diverting his attention away from the other. Taking advantage of the moment when Percy isn't on guard, the second one aims the knife at his back, about to plunge it downwards and condemn Percy to death.
Percy! You scream over the clamor. Watch out! Immediately, you regret your decision.
He turns towards your voice for a split second before your message registers in his mind. Annabeth? He tries to dodge the lethal weapon, but it's too late. It found its mark.
Around you, the battle is ongoing. But it is gone. Everything is gone, and you are focused only on him. Dying, collapsing onto the ground. You sprint from where you are towards his fallen figure, crouching beside him. Tears are falling freely, but you don't register them. No! I can't! I just...I just remembered...I can't lose you now...not after so much….
Annabeth. It takes a few tries before his voice jolts through your grief-clouded thoughts. Annabeth. There's nothing you can do.
Ambrosia. Nectar. Where were they when you needed them the most? Percy. No...try...just try to.
He smiles, though it's strained from the pain. Annabeth. You know it. I know it. Just try to win for me, okay? Remember me. That's all I ask.
You're still disbelieving. After so much, after being apart for so long. Just seeing him again was reward enough. And before you could ever reunite with him, create new memories with him, he was taken from your grasp yet again. A thousand emotions are whirling through you. Pain. Grief. Anger. Frustration. Anguish. Uselessness.
I-I will. The two words are shaky. You're accepting the truth you don't want to accept.
One last smile, one last curve of his lips upwards lingers as the light of life leaks from his eyes, leaving them cold and dark. Emotionless. I love you passes from his lips as a breath, a whisper that you can hardly hear.
I love you too, you murmur quietly to him, though he is already gone.
Heartbreak isn't enough to describe it. No, it is far too mild of a word. He is gone. He. Is. Gone. And there is nothing you could do to bring him back.
Chaos. The one who took his life. You stand up with renewed strength, a renewed purpose to fight. A thirst for revenge, for vengeance overwhelms you. And you fight. An anguished cry tears free from you as you launch yourself at Chaos. You know you can't beat him. You shouldn't be able to. But still you try, your blade leading you into a deadly dance with him.
Everything that happened comes together. Your frustration at losing your memories. The pain. The hatred for not belonging. Everything you've felt gathers behind your blade, giving you power, giving you almost infinite strength.
You don't tire. It was for him. It was the least you could do for him.
Thalia, Piper, Jason, Hazel, Frank, Leo—your friends come to your aid, distracting and fighting Chaos. The Olympus slowly drift their way towards Chaos as well, leaving trails of blood and destruction in their wake. Poseidon is first, and like you, his fight is fueled by revenge and anger for his son. While fighting, you manage to lock eyes with him for a split second. I'm sorry, Annabeth. So very sorry. The message rings clear to you, and you nod briefly, accepting the words. They are not words of pity, but words offered because he also understood. He also feels the pain of losing him, stabbing over and over into his heart.
Playing time is over, Chaos says as the gods gather around him. Let the real fight begin. With that, he shoots up, growing larger and larger, blotting out the sun for the demigods previously fighting him. The gods follow suit, but even they cannot compete with the height of Chaos. The thirst for revenge and vengeance is quieted as you are left analyzing the situation. How would you all fight him this way? Jason could fly, but the rest of you?
Festus. The word and thought strikes you suddenly. The bronze dragon. Leo! Festus! We need him!
Who's going? For once, Leo doesn't have a sarcastic comment to offer, knowing how grave the situation is. You suddenly miss how he always seems to make the worst situations better with one single remark, one single action. But even he fails to do so now.
I'm going. Definitely. You scan the crowd of friends still gathered. Who else?
Me. Thalia. She steps forward, jaw set in determination. For Percy.
You involuntarily flinch at the name—a reminder that he isn't here anymore. For Percy, you agree.
Festus is back at camp. I'll get him. Leo breaks into a run towards camp, fending off soldiers that surround the Empire State Building.
Should we come with you? You yell over the clamor before he disappears.
No, it's fine. I'll just pick up a rope or something. And then he is lost in the mass of soldiers swarming around.
You and the rest of the demigods stand, rooted in place, staring almost helplessly at the gods fighting Chaos over your heads. Can't we do anything? Piper is the first one to speak.
What was the prophecy? You ask suddenly, remembering Gaea and how she was destined to be defeated by either storm or fire.
Piper shifts uncomfortably on her feet, looking to her friends for help. Uh...It's...not that cheerful.
Well. If a prophecy is cheerful, we know we've got a huge problem on our hands, you reply.
Fine. She takes a deep breath.
A thrice-broken oath will be its fall,
The oldest of them will conquer all,
Prove yourself and change your fate,
Child of Athena's loss will abate.
Silence, and everyone stares at you expectantly. The last line: 'Child of Athena's loss will abate' is a good thing, I guess, you say carefully. Actually, the last two lines are as uplifting a prophecy can be.
Yeah, Thalia snorts. No kidding. 'Prove yourself and change your fate' is wonderful advice when you're...oh, only battling the oldest primordial god from which the universe was created.
Thalia.
Okay, okay, fine. She holds up her hands in surrender. But how do you prove yourself to Chaos? Silence yet again pervades the small gathering, the only sounds coming from the battle around you.
Clearing your throat, you continue dissecting the words of a prophecy. 'The oldest of them' obviously points to Chaos, since he is the oldest primordial being. So he will conquer us all unless we somehow prove ourselves to him.
That much we've figured out already, Hazel says quietly. The 'thrice-broken oath' also points to the oath that Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades made on the River Styx. At least, that's what Percy told us.
Percy. His name again. You ignore the sharp jab of hollowness in your chest, try not to glance at his lifeless form on the ground a few meters away. Zeus broke his oath on the River Styx three times, you realize. Including Jason and the new girl. That must be what the prophecy is talking about.
So Chaos is here because Zeus broke his oath three times, Jason concludes. Therefore, he is unfit to be the leader of Olympus? It comes out sounding more like a question than a statement.
I guess so, you reply before a shadow falls over the demigods. Craning your neck upwards, you can make out Leo on top of Festus, waving to you all. Leo! A rope descends from the air, dangling just above the ground.
Hurry!
You glance at Thalia, who nods at you to go first. Crossing your fingers and praying to the gods for luck, you start up the swaying rope. Halfway up, Thalia starts climbing as well. The gently oscillating motion of the cord is dizzying, and when you finally clamber onto the metal dragon's back, you are disoriented and still slightly dazed. A bright ball of fire launched right past you snaps you suddenly back to reality. Looking down, you spot Jason holding Piper, floating on air currents. Piper is saying something, but the words are blown away in the wind. Charmspeak. Of course. Frank and Hazel have directed their attention elsewhere, diving into combat with Chaos' soldiers. You sigh, relieved that everyone is doing something of some sort.
As Leo launches another fireball at Chaos, you shout over gusts of wind, We need to get closer, Leo.
He obliges, guiding Festus nearer and nearer to the gods and goddesses engaged in a battle of powers with Chaos. With a sinking feeling, you realize that they are losing. They are struggling, although they attempt to hide it. Chaos, on the other hand, is relaxed, calm, even. His movements are flowing, and he seems at ease. He is saying something to the gods, but it isn't until you draw even nearer that you can decipher what he is saying. Prove yourself. Prove yourself worthy of this title, this power, and I will leave this world in peace.
Prove yourself. The exact words of the prophecy. Prove yourself and change your fate. But how?
Lightning crackles through the sky, striking where Chaos stood just a moment before. A plume of smoke rises through the air, and he stands, unharmed, to the side of the crater in the ground. Leo is continuously hurling glowing balls of fire at the primordial, although Chaos ignores them, almost as one would ignore a pesky fly or an insistent itch. A sense of helplessness overwhelms you. Why did you come up here? Why? The only special power you held was in your mind. Your thinking and analytical skills. Nothing that could be used now.
Prove yourself. It echoes in your mind, over and over again, the phrase repeating itself so many times that it becomes a string of gibberish. How? It always follows the phrase. How?
A thought drifts your way in your mind. Sometimes you prove yourself worthy of something by denying it, relinquishing it. The gods were known for their divinity, their powers. So perhaps they would prove themselves worthy of their powers by surrendering them.
Your gaze lands on the Olympians, each breathing heavily and calling upon their abilities with every ounce of strength they had left. No, they would not do this. They would not give up their divinity, not for anything.
That left the demigods. Half-god, they held diluted powers of their own. It would take at least two demigods' divinity to rival that of a god. Two demigods for each god. Sacrifices. It always came down to this. Sacrifices, sacrifices, even more deaths. Silena, Luke, Leo. All of them heroes in their own right, their legacy living on through the stories of their bravery. Leo, of course, took the physician's cure and lived once more. But Silena and Luke….
Tears sting your eyes like thin needles, and you blink them back rapidly. Now was not the time. Quickly, you try to communicate your thoughts to Thalia. Right, child of Athena. Right. But who will go? A presence in your mind, not necessarily unpleasant, but not pleasant either. Chaos. Choose wisely. Then he disappears, leaving you pondering his words.
Leo! Can you drop me and Thalia off somewhere?
Why?
A plan. It's a bit complex and requires some explaining.
A pause, and another fireball in Chaos' direction. Okay. Where?
Where you picked us up. Hold onto the rope. Hopefully this won't take as long.
He nods, and steers Festus away from the battle. Thalia turns a questioning glance your way, and you give her the same brief explanation you gave Leo.
Thalia starts her descent first this time, and when she's more than halfway down, you join her. Again, the rope sways gently, leaving you light-headed when your feet are on solid ground again.
So, what's the plan?
Not yet. You scan your surroundings, searching for your friends. Get Jason and Piper. I'll get Hazel and Frank. Without waiting for her reply, you plunge into the crowds of soldiers fighting tirelessly against the demigods. Hazel! Frank! Try to reach the center, where you were before! You yell over the roar of voices and battle repeatedly. Before too long, Hazel finds her way towards you, and Frank soon follows. I have a plan I need to explain, you say, before leading them back where Thalia is already waiting with Jason and Piper.
You all know the prophecy, right? They all nod. 'Prove yourself and change your fate' is one of the lines. I'm guessing to prove themselves worthy of their powers, they have to willingly give them up. But they most likely won't.
Then what's this? You give us a possible answer, and then shoot it down? Thalia interrupts, snapping. The irritation melts into weariness, and she sighs. Sorry. All this fighting, with little to no rest….
It's fine. Aren't we all tired? You say. But honestly, the gods probably won't give their powers up. Have you seen them?
Annabeth's right. Piper's the first to agree. But then how...Realization strikes her, and her face pales. Demigods.
You nod. Demigods, you confirm. At least two for each god, or the god or goddess gives up his or her powers. To balance it out, I'd say one boy, one girl, one Roman, and one Greek for each Olympian.
But what about Poseidon, or Athena for her Roman form? Minerva's a maiden goddess. Artemis is, too, Jason reasons.
I say that they would have to give up some of their divinity. Poseidon, perhaps fully. Athena, only partially, since she has children in her Greek form. The Hunters of Artemis might give up their blessing for Artemis. I guess Bellona will have to sacrifice some of her divinity as well.
Who's going? Thalia asks with uncertainty. Just anyone?
Someone who is willing to make the sacrifice, for one, you start, and perhaps someone who is a strong demigod. Like Piper or Drew, for example, since they both have charmspeak.
I'll go. Piper's mouth is set into a thin line, determination filling her eyes. I doubt Drew will sacrifice herself.
Me too, Hazel steps forward. I'm the only daughter of Pluto that I know of.
Frank and Jason soon follow.
Thalia?
Should I be a Hunter of Artemis for Artemis, or for Zeus?
Artemis, you say, tone leaving no room for arguments. You pledged yourself to Artemis and are loyal to her. And besides, I thought you didn't really like Zeus?
True. I'll go for Artemis, Thalia relents. So how are we going to rally up the rest of the demigods and tell them this?
Silence, and all eyes turn towards you. I...guess...you're only buying yourself time, and time was slowly running out. Interfere with the battle with Chaos. I'm sure they'll see what's going on. It's not a guarantee, and a risky plan at the very most. Millions of things that could go wrong are running through your mind, but you shut them out and force yourself to only concentrate on the task at hand.
And...how exactly are we going to interfere with the battle?
You wince, realizing that it was a major flaw in your plan. I really don't know.
A combination of our powers, maybe, Piper says. Charmspeak, lightning, all that together. Make them stop, because if they don't, no one will ever listen to us.
Yet again, a sense of uselessness overwhelms you. Yet again, you are left, with no powers, essentially, that could contribute to this. I guess after you get their attention I'll explain the plan. A slight tinge of dejectedness colors your voice, and no one detects it. You almost wish they did.
Guess so, is all they offer, and they turn towards the fight. A show is about to be put on, one of the many powers the demigods wield. And you will be standing there, useless, a mere bystander.
You are Annabeth Chase, daughter of Athena. A girl who is broken. Useless. A girl who thought that maybe, maybe just this once, everything would be fine again, but was proven wrong. A girl who lost a piece of herself yet again when he died. A girl who will sacrifice herself, soon, to end a war.
You don't know what exactly you were expecting when you announced your plan, but it wasn't this. A boy and a girl, a Greek and a Roman, two for each god. The words echo over the gathering, ingraining themselves into the minds of the demigods. A boy and a girl….
One by one, demigods step forward quietly and join the others that chose to sacrifice themselves, all standing in a semicircle. Scanning the faces, you recognize a handful of them from camp. Strangely, it gives you a calm, comforting sense, as much as it welcomes the darker thoughts and what-ifs that plague your mind. What if this is all for nothing? What if you are wrong? Their faces and names would haunt you forever, through the passage of time and death. Katie, daughter of Demeter, her clear green eyes reflecting her unflinching determination. Clarisse, daughter of Ares, chin raised high, poised to battle to the very end. Pollux, son of Dionysus, violet eyes clouded over slightly, perhaps recalling memories of the past. Will, son of Apollo, quietly conversing with Nico. Travis and Connor, sons of Hermes, bickering with each other, pleading the other not to go, to let him go instead. Dakota, son of Bacchus, taking a last swig of the red Kool-Aid he always seemed to carry around. Reyna, daughter of Bellona, standing tall and proud, unwavering in her choice. Leo, Jason, Thalia, Piper, Frank, Hazel—all your friends are there, exchanging hushed words and glances, each supporting each other. It's going to be alright, they seem to say. Annabeth's right. We'll stop this war, prove ourselves and the gods.
You seem alone in your thoughts, your doubts. What if...what if? Questions whirl around in your mind, whispering on how you are wrong, how you needlessly are sacrificing so many of your friends, and for what? Your friends are just pretending, the whispers cackle, they are just pretending, because you are their last hope. And you are going to let the down.
Perhaps you weren't always this way. Perhaps once, you were confident in your choices, priding yourself on being almost always right. But now, at every turn, every crossroad, you are doubting yourself, whispering on how you should've done this, done that instead. And maybe then you wouldn't be so much of a wreck, so much of a disappointment now.
Maybe not a disappointment. But a broken mess. Everything you had known, had created, was pulled out from under you. Deep bonds became superficial, almost in name only. Memories, connections lost entirely. Everything only a whisper of what it was before. And you yourself are struggling to live up to your name in the past. When you were whole, complete, without half your life missing.
Demigods gather, the semicircle growing larger and larger. Larger still until you cannot bear to think of the consequences of the lives lost if you are incorrect, if you made a mistake. Until at last, the congregation is complete. At least two demigods, one for each god, a boy and a girl, Roman and Greek, if possible. Chaos surveys the crowd, expression unreadable. I suppose you want me to approve or disapprove of this? His remark meets only silence, none of those gathered stirring. I must admit, I never thought that the offspring of these...gods, as you would call them would ever show this much heroism. At least, the willingness to sacrifice themselves for a greater cause. Although that quality may be negative at times, it is rarer and rarer to come by in this world, and I admire it greatly. You have much to learn from them. He gives a pointed glance to the gods, and some shift their feet uncomfortably, averting their eyes from his gaze. I will come again if you don't learn your lesson. Let this be my one and only warning. Next time I will not be as lenient. Now, he turns to address the demigods. To those of you who chose to be sacrificed. You chose to give up your divinity, your powers. You will become mortals, given another life, unable to see through the Mist. Never again will you be affiliated with the demigod world. He pauses for a moment to take in your reactions. No one stirs. It's like they've been expecting this, but you know better. They've accepted it wholly, no matter what he says, what he does, they are going through with it. One last thing. You all are going to have to lose your memories and start over completely with life. You'll be given false memories, just for the sake of fitting in and not causing any suspicions. That's it. Ready?
You suck in a breath. Almost everything he said aligned perfectly with what had already happened to you. You became mortal, ignorant to the demigod world. You lost your memories, and instead had fabrications and lies placed in your mind. And now you are being asked to do so once again.
You hesitate, wondering if this is the right choice. Now, after you finally were reconciled with your past, your friends? But it doesn't matter. You cannot back out now. A blinding flash of light envelopes those standing in the semicircle, and you feel yourself drifting away from everything. Ever...so...slowly….
And then you are gone.
You are Annabeth Chase. A girl who gave up everything, twice. Once against her will. Once because she chose to do so. A girl who is now long gone, lost in the past, remembered in history. A girl who now is oblivious to everything she had ever known. A girl who chose to start over once again, with a clean slate and a new life.
You are alone, now. Jason, Piper, Leo, Frank, Hazel, Thalia, Nico, Will...all your friends that you managed to accumulate in high school had already passed. And you feel yourself on the brink of death as well, slowly slipping away from the safety of life, towards that yawning black chasm of the unknown.
Drifting in and out of reality, you find yourself in front of a council of gods and goddesses. The Greek gods. You stand, bewildered by this sudden appearance. This is a dream, right?
Yes. It is a dream. A goddess steps forward, stormy grey eyes piercing into your very soul. Your breath almost catches in your throat as you realize that she has the exact same eyes as you. We've decided to let you have a choice. You lost your memories, once. In death, you may be able to recover them. But only if you choose so.
I...what? I have all my memories intact.
Her gaze softens, if only momentarily. No, you don't. Your actual memories were replaced with false ones.
You shouldn't accept this. This is just some crazy, insane fantasy conjured up only by your mind. And yet you still warm to the idea. Perhaps—maybe, they were right. Maybe you did lose your memories, once, and you didn't remember. A tugging, nagging feeling inside of you urges you to accept. Remember, remember, is all it whispers, chanting it over and over again. Remember. You open your mouth, and the words tumble out. I...I accept.
Wordlessly, she closes the distance between you two and touches your forehead lightly. Now, when you receive your memories, you will die. It is time for you to go.
You don't hesitate. The moment you spoke those words, you embraced whatever came with it. I understand. I still accept it. And then reality falls away. In an instant, an alternate universe, it seems, unfolds before you in your mind. Memories upon memories, all flowing in, all flashing by, colors ranging from bright and garish to dull and muted. Names rise. Piper. Jason. Leo. All your friends from your other life. And one last name falls into place. Percy. Percy. Percy Jackson. Moments stolen together, quests you completed, everything you did with him flashes before your eyes. The happiest, most carefree days depict you and him laughing together, joking and often just conversing. And yet, just a simple conversation with him is enough to bring you to life, to add the twinkle of merriness and liveliness to your eyes. And then there were the darker days, ones where he was the one thing that kept you going. Ones where he comforted you, told you his secrets, trusted you. Ones where he lead you back into the light.
You smile, a slight curving of your lips upwards, at the memories finally falling into place. And then you are gone. Truly gone.
Your spirit somehow finds its ways to the entrance of the Underworld. DOA Recording Studio, the sign announces. You came here before. On your first quest, with Percy and Grover. Every little thing now calls upon a memory in the past. Trees in the park remind you of Juniper and Grover, the dryad and the satyr. Every place here marks another spot where you, Percy, and Grover traveled through, battling monsters and barely surviving on what seemed like a hopeless quest. And the Underworld itself. You had been there before, as the living, on a quest. But now you are here to stay. Permanently.
Charon asks for your coin, and you momentarily panic, before realizing the gods had gifted you with a drachma in your pocket. Breathing a sigh of relief, you hand over your payment and board the boat, mind drifting towards a distant memory all those decades ago, when you were still young, in a different situation. Your heart is racing, beating faster and faster in anticipation. All your friends would be there, undoubtedly, in Elysium. And Percy—he would be there too. Percy. After all this time.
The line and your judging pass in a blur. Percypercypercypercypercypercy. It's like a mantra in your mind. Everything else you shut out, only focusing on him. Each step, each second that ticks by is another step closer to him, another step to finally seeing him again. The gates of Elysium appear, a metal arch composed of thin filaments of metal, intertwined, forming a sturdy structure. Your heartbeat is loud, pounding in your ears. Percy. Almost in reach...just a few more steps….
And you're in Elysium, surrounded by a literal paradise. Lush, green grass beneath your feet. Houses of all shapes, colors, sizes lined up along a quaint, cobblestone path. Birds chirping overhead, flowers and plants thriving in gardens and the meadows.
Annabeth? Is that you? Piper is the first one, throwing herself towards you, pulling you into an embrace. Oh my goodness. It is you.
Do you remember? It's the first thing that pops out from your mouth, and you're about to take it back until Piper answers.
Yes, I remember. Everything. So does everyone else. She takes a deep breath, probably deciding what to say out of the millions upon millions of things she probably wanted to simultaneously update you on. Come on! Jason and I live here, right next to Hazel and Frank and Percy. Leo lives next to Percy with Calypso. She grabs your wrist and pulls you along towards a Greek-style, beautiful house that resembled their home outside the Underworld. Guys! It's Annabeth!
They all swarm out, crushing you into a huge group hug. The pure happiness radiating off from them is enough to make you giddy, and you join them in the laughter, jokes, and conversation. There's only one person you haven't seen yet. Percy.
Where's Percy? You ask once you can squeeze a word in between the excited chatter and idle discussion.
Oh. He's...Piper trails off when he emerges from his own house, painted to resemble the ocean and looking suspiciously like the Poseidon Cabin in Camp Half-Blood. Your heart squeezes in anticipation.
Percy! He turns at the sound of your voice, just like all those years ago in battle. But this time, no one is there to hurt him.
Annabeth! It's been too long—so long since you've seen him, talked with him, done anything with him. The world blurs out of focus, and the only thing you see is him, running towards you. It takes you a moment to realize that you are running towards him. You collide, and you are content, if only for a little while, just to wrap your arms around him and breath in his ocean scent, burying your head into his chest.
Percy, you say in a whisper. You cannot believe it. He's finally here. You're finally back with him.
Annabeth, he replies, almost just as disbelieving.
You lift your head to look into his eyes—those same sea green eyes you fell in love with, and are falling in love with all over again—and close the distance between you two. Your lips touch, and you wonder if you ever had felt such an explosion of emotions inside of you. Happiness, contentedness, joy, giddiness, elation, ecstasy, delight, bliss...complete, utter, love...want. A want for more, because no, not after all this long time, could this ever be enough. You pull away, only to breath, and smile—that same tug of the corners of your mouth upwards that you gave him so many times before. Except this time, it meant more. It meant so much more.
You don't need your friends to tell you that you are absolutely radiant, beaming from one ear to the other. Finally, is all you can think. Finally. Finally, you know yourself, your memories, all the connections you had. Finally, you can see your friends again, converse and laugh with them. Finally, you found your way back to Percy. Back to him, back to the life, the radiance he gave you.
You are content, resting your head against his shoulder as he runs his hand along your back, watching your friends converse and laugh with one another. And you are complete, whole, healed. Beautiful—yourself. Because finding him meant finding yourself once again.
You are Annabeth Chase. Someone who saved the world; three times. Someone who led so many different lives. Someone who finally found her way back to him—the person that made life worth living. The person who meant everything, the world to her. And you are Annabeth Chase, simply because you are. You are yourself—you found yourself once again.
The end
So this was something that I wrote a while ago and didn't decide to publish until now. It wasn't supposed to be this long-when I first started I doubted I would even finish it, and even then, I planned a one-thousand-word one-shot. And then this happened.
I apologize for any tense errors(I tried editing, but some might've slipped through). And as I'm pretty much worthless at writing anything longer than a thousand words, please tell me what you think and how I could improve in a review!