these broken promises of family will turn into her wrath
"Family, Luke. You promised." That night she'd vowed something to herself. These broken promises of family will turn into my wrath, Luke — I promise.
He promised. He broke his promise. Thalia feels no pain. She feels anger, a cold blue flame that burns low but burns more than the higher-leveled orange ones do — her anger is the first flame that gets no credit but burns on. It ravages the land, it kills, it ruins. Its smoke can be smelled from miles away.
Ruins are what she intended to make of Luke Castellan. But now she cannot. He is gone. He was a hero, Thalia, Percy had said, perhaps trying to be comforting, but there was something that sparked in that cold blue flame; a spark of something red and unforgiving.
They leave her alone with the burial shroud for a while — a mistake. She sends sparks through his body, and he jolts, and she singes his head. He burns the way she did.
No one notices, of course, and they set fire to the shroud and whisper prayers for him and wish him well for Elysium. Thalia does not.
Family, Luke. You promised.
His broken promises of family have turned into her wrath, indeed.
a/n: i think i forgot to mention this is a multi-chap. i'm going to update this story when i have writer's block because i don't have definite ideas for this unlike others, so it won't be on my priority list. so don't expect that many updates or long af chapters, sorry