*Repeatedly pounds head against door*. Sorry for never updating when I say I'm going to :(. Anyways, thanks for 524 reviews! :)

I GOT A JAR OF DIRT! I GOT A JAR OF DIRT! AND GUESS WHAT'S INSIDE IT?... CHAPTER 25!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Percy Jackson series.

Piper awoke with a start at the touch of a hand on her shoulder.

Her muscles tensed instinctively as she grabbed the hand in a death grip and threw the wool blanket covering her body onto her enemy. With a grunt, the person tried to pull their hand back while simultaneously ridding themselves of the blanket. Taking advantage of this distraction, Piper sprung into action, jumping from her bed and locking her opponent's arm in a death grip behind his back. She jammed her heel into the back of his knee and he fell to the ground, just as Piper wrapped her arm around his neck in a choke hold.

"Pi-per." His voice rasped out.

Piper loosened her hold and pulled the blanket away, making out the tips of blonde in the dim moonlight. "Jason?"

"Let. Go." He pulled at her arms and pried them from his neck.

He stretched to his full height, towering above her.

"What are you doing, Jason?" Piper crossed her arms, missing the warmth of her blanket. "It's the middle of the night."

"Annabeth asked me to wake you, while she woke Percy and Nico."

"Why?"

Jason shook his head. "She didn't say. Just get dressed and meet me outside."

Piper nodded.

Once she had changed into a heavier tunic and into her armor, she exited her tent with a tired yawn, and walked silently to Jason. Together they strolled along through the camp, and if it hadn't been for something Annabeth needed, Piper might have found it romantic. The quiet was refreshing and the stars were as abundant as ever, though she doubted Jason noticed such things. Things had been different between them as of late, but neither had made any move towards it, which probably was the smarter decision since neither knew what the outcome of the war would be. While it may have been the undesirable choice, it was the better one.

When they finally made it to the area outside Annabeth's tent, Nico and Percy were already there, though Percy looked miserable and tired. Annabeth was pacing with her arms crossed, while Percy sat on the dewy ground with his legs stretched out in front of him. His armor wasn't buckled and the bags under his eyes showed that he really did care. Nico looked menacing as ever with his blackened armor to coexist with his stygian iron sword as he leaned against a tree, fairly separated from the other two.

"So." Piper started, catching Annabeth's attention. "What are we doing here?"

"Jupiter raided another village." Annabeth's eyebrows furrowed.

"He does that fairly often, Annabeth." Jason stepped up.

"I know." Annabeth raised her hand for silence. "But this time the village was two miles from our camp."

Piper raised an eyebrow. The only time Jupiter had ever gotten in within a ten mile radius of their camp was when he attacked them. If he was overtaking nearby settlements, there could be a possibility he was going to execute another sneak attack. They had advanced their night guard with makeshift security towers and would be well warned if Jupiter initiated violence once more. However, they could barely handle an attack from a single legion and it took the murder of their leaders to end the massacre.

"What do we do?" Piper asked.

"We could at the very least, investigate the battle zone and search for survivors." Annabeth suggested. "The sun is rising and by the time we arrive, it'll be daybreak. If there are any survivors, they may give us insight as to what tactics Jupiter is using or if any of his soldiers said anything about an attack on us."

Piper had her doubts about Jupiter's soldiers leaving anyone alive, but she nodded her head in agreement nonetheless. "We'll only search for an hour or so; it's too dangerous for us to stay out alone for too long."

Annabeth nodded. If they were caught, there was no doubt that they would be slaughtered.

Four. He'd killed four more girls.

And yet all Rachel had to offer him was that her king would be arriving to aid his enemy. While this was no small piece of information, it was all she had given him and it was not enough. He spoke venom into her veins yet forced no snake upon her and so she remained unharmed. But the girls that he had murdered before her were not as fortunate when the knife plunged into their sternum or sliced the skin from their backs. When Rachel looked away when the second was killed, two guards were summoned to hold her head up, forcing her to see what Jupiter claimed was her fault.

While she'd only given him a small bit of prophecy, which was surely a result of what little influence she had over the Spirit, she knew he would not merely hold this information. He would act on it, as to how, she did not know and her fortune remained silent. With that thought, a cloud of oppression came over her. The Spirit of Delphi did not care for her emotions, though she begged it to have sympathy and allow her to save at least one child. But it did no such thing, each time it only offered her a warm feeling that she supposed was to act as comfort, yet it translated as guilt. That she should be at peace when some poor girl was dying.

It was late in that day when Jupiter entered the tent once more, this time with no screaming child restrained in his grasp. Rachel stared up at him as he stood with regal posture, as if he were proud of what he'd done. The knife sat on the corner table with blood still dripping from it, it's metallic scent wavering in the air she breathed. The liquid, probably still warm, fell rhythmically as if trying to lure Jupiter to it, begging him to use it once more. Rachel prayed to Apollo above that he would not notice it.

"We are done for today." The words slipped out like whisper, smooth and alluring, yet his voice held power and strength, making her want to cower.

But even she, who was so terribly beaten, could sense the pause in his voice.

"But have no doubt," he went on, "that tomorrow, instead of four, there will be eight. And that day after, there will be sixteen. Then thirty-two. Until you give me something of worth, it shall go on this way. Your incompetence will be the result of a massacre."

It shall be your fault.

Though she knew not to listen, his words were beginning to hold power over her. His was the only voice she heard besides the shattered screams of tortured girls. Her guilt was beginning to weigh as much as the chains she bore to prevent escape or attack. She could feel his heavy glare upon her though she did not dare to look at him. Rachel could almost perfectly imagine the disdain and pure hatred that hid behind a blue smokescreen; it was the only emotion she had known as of late other than fear.

There had been a gray cloud of oppression hanging over her head since Jupiter had found her. She never had any good memories when he was involved, except for when Octavian took her away from Jupiter. She wondered where he was. He hadn't come to see her yet or to rescue her once more; she hoped that he had gone into hiding, somewhere Jupiter wouldn't be able to find him. Rachel could only pray to Apollo that Octavian would hear word of her capture and that he would come for her once more. And soon.

Her hair had been matted down with sweat and lack of bathing. Her throat had long gone dry and her stomach gave up grumbling, but she knew Jupiter would not allow her to die. She was of value to him and he would keep her alive, but just barely. His heavy breath told her that he was still standing over her, surely relishing in her pain and discomfort. She heard a chuckle breathily escape from his lips and she could just feel the smirk creep up on his face. HIs audible footsteps led him towards the tent's exit.

"Monster." Though the word escaped her lips at a bare whisper, it did not fall on deaf ears.

And she swore, she felt a grin arise of Jupiter's face.

There was something burning.

The singed scent invaded Piper's nostrils as she coughed out the smoke-filled air. Her eyes watered before she blinked it away. Everything had been on fire. The attack was a few hours old and a slight drizzle had tamed the flames, but the fire still burned in some places. The ground was littered with blood and bodies, some looked as though they were half of Piper's sixteen years. She looked to Jason, his face was stolid though she could see fear and sadness behind his blue smokescreen. She took his hand in her own and his eyes shifted to her for a moment; he gave her a slight smile of comfort and squeezed her hand.

"Search for survivors!" Percy said, his voice cracking.

Even before they began, it was obvious there were none. Piper knew that there'd been a few hundred people living in the village as a few of their volunteer military men had come from it. It seems those men had a better chance of surviving by enlisting to fight rather than staying home. Piper didn't know how she would tell them of their village's destruction. They'd know by morning when they'd see the bare traces of smoke in sky, but she also felt that it would be better to tell them personally, if she could.

Piper released Jason's hand, wandering off in a different direction to make the search quicker. She shouldn't have though. Stepping over charred bodies with unrecognizable faces was nothing less than haunting, and she was certain that the quiet "salui" she whispered to their deaf ears did not help much. With only the crackle of the remaining fires to keep her company, she felt the small tears she'd been holding back for so long finally fall down her cheeks. Soon she was weeping, releasing the fear, the anger, the tragedy she hid from even Jason from her body.

She heard Nico call her name and she quickly wiped the salty water from her cheeks, following the sound of his voice. The entire group surrounded a wooden structure, a town callboard, used for delivering public messages. It was one of the few things not destroyed from the raid as it sat just outside the town, where it could be easily accessed by messengers. Local postings for jobs and decrees from the city littered about it. Some were old and weatherworn while others looked as though they'd been placed there earlier in the day. There was a particular one that intrigued Piper.

It appeared three times across the callboard, though two looked older than the third, as though this had been a consistent issue. It a hand-drawn, sketched to perfection, detailing of a hooded figure. It's face was indistinguishable though the person looked over his (or possibly her) shoulder, right into the eyes of the artist. It was only drawn from the shoulders upward but a bow used for firing arrows was slung over the person's head, resting across his or her backside. Piper cocked her head at it, she couldn't quite read the rain-wet ink, but she could make out a series of numbers at the bottom of the page.

"Who is that?" She asked, to no one in particular.

Annabeth crossed to her and squinted at it, her eyebrow arching in recognition. "I've seen these in the city. It's just some vigilante that liberates villages from central powers like Sparta."

"Or Rome." Jason muttered beneath his breath.

Piper looked at Annabeth. "A vigilante?"

Annabeth nodded. "It's a wanted poster."

Piper caught the familiar scent of burning wood early in the morning.

At first, she feared that Jupiter was attacking them once more or perhaps he'd lit their camp on fire in the middle of the night. However, the lack of screaming or fighting vetoed this option from her. Nevertheless, she arose quickly, her armor uncomfortably already strapped on from when she collapsed from their village visit. She exited her tent with haste, jogging to find Annabeth standing not far from her quarters. The Athenian queen merely stood there with her arms crossed and a look of disdain painting her face, staring up at the smoke.

"Annabeth!" Piper called, earning the attention of the older girl. "What is this?"

"Jupiter is probably burning another village." Annabeth huffed angrily.

"Are you sure?" Piper asked, not recalling a village in that direction.

Annabeth said nothing.

"Shouldn't we send help?"

Annabeth sighed and shook her head. "It is not as large as it appears, it's merely been burning for a good hour or two."

"Should we still not send help?" Piper asked once more. "There are most definitely people there."

"Aye." Annabeth agreed. "There most definitely is. But anyone there is good as dead. We learned last night that Jupiter kills all before he burns their land. And we are safe from the flames; the fire will burn out before it reaches us and if I am wrong, the protective border of the river should keep it from us."

Piper nodded, though she was unsatisfied with this answer, and walked away sullenly.

It wasn't long though before she caught sight of Nyssa. She stood staring at the rising smoke, her eyebrows scrunched and her nose crinkled in worry. Her short hair had fallen free without a helmet to contain it; Piper's own hair had grown down to the middle of her back and this was one few time that she did not have it wrapped away from her face. Nyssa was also in full battle armor with her shield dug into the ground as though she'd slammed it into the dirt, not wanting to hold it herself. While the numerous amounts of soldiers went around their daily business and chores, Nyssa stayed put, merely watching the black cloud as though it were an evil hanging over her head, waiting to steal her life away.

Piper walked to her and touched her arm gingerly. "Nyssa, are you well?" When she did not answer, Piper shook her slightly. "Nyssa?"

Nyssa blinked and tore her eyes from the sky, as though she had awakened from a day dream. "Hmm?"

"Are you well?" Piper repeated. "You seem distraught."

"It's nothing Piper." Nyssa, responded in the exact tone that led Piper to believe the opposite.

"Yes, it is." Piper insisted. "And?"

"Michael hails in the east." Nyssa said, staring back the flames, the rising sun blinding her as well.

Piper bit her lip, she'd nearly forgotten. "Nyssa, this fire is far too close. Michael must be nearly twelve miles off, and the flames must be a fourth of that distance."

Nyssa smiled and nodded; she'd obviously been waiting for a solution to this problem. "Yes. You're right. Why, I'd bet Michael is staring up at the smoke and worrying that it's us as well."

Piper chuckled. "I'd bet you're right."

"Thank you, Piper, for easing my nerves." Nyssa squeezed Piper's arm before walking away in the opposite direction of the smoke.

However, Piper looked back to the ashy cloud and felt slightly unnerved by it, but she quickly shook it off. There was no possible way for that fire to contain Michael and his army. It just simply couldn't be.

Besides, how could Jupiter possible know that Michael was even here?

Hylla had not known how cold Sicyon nights were until she was without a tent to block its dreaded winds.

Even with the dense trees surrounding her, she could feel the freezing winds ripping at her. The cold air had done nothing to dry her clothing instead only freezing her blood further. Her feet felt heavy and slow as they tried to carry a body that just did not want to move on. Her mind told her that now would be a good time to lie down and sleep, but she feared that if she did, she would not wake up. She had to trudge forward and hope that she would stumble upon a cave or with the gods' blessings, a house.

Her head was spinning and dizziness plagued her, though she tore her tunic embarrassingly short for a makeshift bandage. She tightly wrapped the wet cloth around her head. Pressure. Strong pressure was good to stop the flow of blood, though with such a devastating head wound she wasn't sure it was doing her any good. Her breath had gone short long ago and she could feel it growing smaller as Atropos, the inevitable, took the Hylla's string from her sister and prepared her cutting shears.

Kinzie and Otrera were waiting for her at the river, of this she was certain. They'd fought together and they should die together. But so far, Hylla had cheated her way from fate. And fate does not like it when it is cheated of its prize. She wasn't sure of how far she'd walked, but her tired legs shook beneath her, begging for the blood that dripped from her forehead. She's stumbled and tripped twice now, the blood beginning to stain her cheeks and burn her eyes.

There was a light in the distance. She wasn't sure if it were salvation or Charon waving her down to the river. She wipes a bit of red from her face and slowly begins to make her way towards it. She can see it's a lighted lantern on the porch of a small cottage, as though a man had gone to draw water from the river and then left it there to burn out. She relied on the firm oak trees to support and guide her way, reminding her that she could still feel, that she was still alive (for however much longer). For a moment, she considers it a mirage. As though it were impossible for such luck to come her way, but it soon appears that as she makes it onto a stone path, that it was the gods smiling down upon her.

She's weaker than ever now and can barely carry herself, opting the crawl up the smooth stone to the house. The steps prove difficult, but she orders herself further, to try, that she'd come this far and to give up now would be ludicrous. She leans against the doorframe for a moment, catching her breath, before she lightly pounded against the door, hoping that someone would be home to hear her. She heard faint rustling from inside as someone made their way towards the door to find who could be knocking at the door this late at night. This could be the person to save her. Or kill her. But she had to take that chance as the door swung open.

Her words were soft, as she fell at a pair of feet. "Please." Her voice scratched at a bare whisper. "Please, help me."

Thanks for all your love and support! I appreciate more than you know! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, which is a little shorter than usual because I'm on a time crunch. Ugh. Thanks for sticking with me through all this and hopefully things will be easier to do when summer comes.

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