Helloooo my precious readers!
You don't know how happy you've made me! :3 A few hours after posting I get reviews ! :O
I was so happy :3 The only sad thing was that I came from intense badminton practice and couldn't move my wrist to click on the reviews and story alerts on my email :3
Sabr1na: I'm so happy you like it! You're welcome :3 Happy reading!
Helios Spirit: Thanks for the review! I'll tell you that the lair under the lake also appeared in my other story :)
Speaking of my other story... hum.. hum... :]
Yes the leather book that was ripped up in Elli's dorm room was Melanie's own. If you want an accurate description, you can read my story (teehee) but it's filled with pictures that can move based on her entries. Don't worry, it's not a diary :)
And Oh right. Do you remember that nervous voice in the beginning of the story who was with Kronos?
Y-yes, master?
Well, that character's still got a role to play. (or already had a role to play... muahhah :))
Review!
-Olo Eopia03
*P.S. Idk why this chapter is in bold.. it doesn't turn up in my doc manager but when I post it and check the preview voila! It's bold -.-' Well :O sorry :O :) read tho!
Chapter 26: To Let Loose
The Time of guilt has dawned upon,
The four who face a journey anon
Fire foreboding, an enemy aloof,
The walking dream, foreteller of truth
The heart of the tide, one of the last,
Along with her heart, will find her past
The hero destined to mislead his trail,
Before his eyes, three times he'll fail.
The Age of Chaos, an enemy's cry,
First thaw is proof the hero must die.
He couldn't get it out of his mind.
Allen sat on the ebony black bench in front of the piano that sat in the middle of the room. Ever since he'd come here, this was his sanctuary. The crumpled piece of paper that held the prophecy was the only thing sitting on the piano stand in front of him. He was alone in the Apollo cabin. The surroundings were quite unique. There was a dartboard on one side of the wall. A big poster of a wolf, Apollo's sacred animal, filled one side of the room. A mini basketball hoop hung from the door, where many small softballs lay scattered around it. Sections of the room contained shelves full of antidotes or other medicines came in different vials and bottles. One shelf contained a series of books full of poems or literature. Allen stared at a book for moment.
Couplets To Curse Your Enemies, Allen read, wonderingly. One Stanza can Turn Your Face Blue . . . Poe's Depressing Guide To Handle a Harpy . . . Jabberwocky A Cousin of Ladon? The observations of Lewis Carroll.
At least, some of them were books full of poems and literature.
Gods, some people were crazy.
All sorts of paintings of Greek gods and demigods covered the walls. There was one that pictured the 12 Olympian gods in the magnificent Throne Room on Mount Olympus. Small portraits of various people. Shakespeare was there hugging some sort of tree. Again, it's part of his ADHD, probably.
Hopefully.
Music stands were crammed in the corners of the room. The floor was covered with loose pieces of paper fluttering about, with scribbles of forgotten tunes, heartfelt poems, and insane concertos. Although the place was a little big, and they had their own forms of soundproof protection from other musicians, they could at least still use another room. Bows and arrows cluttered the floor. He was just like everyone else. Almost.
Elli and Ray were at dinner, throwing food into the fire for the gods or something. Petra was probably sleeping, or at least trying to. And Allen was just here, sitting in front of the piano and staring at the keys.
Rachmaninoff seems okay, Allen thought. Paganini, Mozart. Minor seventh triads . . .
He listened to the melody that played from his fingers. He'd only noticed that his fingers were dancing along the keys. It wasn't a concerto, a sonata, sonatina, or anything of the sort. It wasn't even a song that seemed to exist in print. He remembered this tune . . .
Back at the restaurant. He remembered Kalley staring at him in awe and admiration.
Now that Allen thought about it, it was a sad melody. But a hopeful one? He couldn't tell.
The tune was beautiful.
He finished the piece slowly, taking his time. Gus was probably sneaking into the hall right now, grabbing a few crumbs or cubes of cheese. Allen stood up to walk to his bed.
"Aren't you hungry, son?" Allen sat on his bunk bed to face his father. It was a little unnerving to see that his dad was so young. Thank the gods he was still more older-looking than Allen. Apollo looked to be about eighteen or nineteen years old. A nice smile played on his face. Allen looked at the sandy hair that covered his head. His dad had taken off his pair of shades, and he wore a nice red T-shirt, with blue jeans and loafers.
"Hi dad," Allen sighed. Apollo breathed deeply as he began his poem,
"Cheer up for once, pal.
Just think of your mouse and cheese.
Start being amazing."
Apollo pumped his fist into the air and cheered. "It should be a masterpiece."
"There's six syllables in the last line," Allen said. Apollo's face fell.
"Oh . . . Well," Apollo muttered. And as quickly as it had fallen apart, his face lit up as he snapped his fingers. "Got it! Start being cool, son."
Allen applauded mockingly, but Apollo didn't seem to notice as he bowed multiple times. Allen rolled his eyes. Allen only wanted to keep the mood up a little so his dad wouldn't feel too bad.
"You're still into haikus?" Allen asked.
"Hey, seventy years isn't such a long time," Apollo said defensively as he sat on the piano bench. "Artistic and easy to make. That's the key to poetry."
"So you've come here to cheer me up with a bombardment of haikus," Allen said slowly. He didn't see this coming.
"Hey, that actually sounds like a great idea!-" Apollo said.
"No!" Allen said quickly, almost yelling in panic. "I mean- I'm fine, dad. I feel pretty good right now."
"Is that so," Apollo said, smirking. His expression seemed to soften. "You know I'm always on your side. And even if you weren't my son, I would still agree with your choice."
"The gods must be furious," Allen said.
"You don't need the gift of prophecy to tell that, Allen," Apollo said. Allen never knew a teenager could look so worried. "The vote's five to seven now, Allen. And it's still not looking good."
"But for once, Poseidon and Athena are on the same side, aren't they?" Allen asked. Apollo nodded. Poseidon would at least agree with his daughter on this one, and he knew Athena had supported their reason because of Kalley's encounter with her in the dream.
Kalley.
"You're right, though," Apollo said. "I'm not here to throw haikus at you. And I hope you've known that I would support you at all costs."
"You have to understand that we'll be finding her without the gods help," Allen said.
"I can still help," Apollo began.
"No, dad," Allen said. He considered this. "You can try, but that would only separate the gods even more. That's exactly what Kronos wants. They're already being separated."
"We'll keep everything under control, okay, Allen?" his father said. Allen nodded gratefully. His dad might be quite annoying at times, but sometimes he can actually be really understanding.
"Thanks," Allen said, looking down at his lap. Hanging on his bedpost was the Nemean Lion coat, now disguised as a brown hoodie. Allen knew before that it'd taken the form as a leather jacket. Maybe this thing knew Allen needed a new one. His green hoodie lay discarded in the trash can, full of tears and dirt, already looking beyond repair. He wondered how he'd stand now against a monster. Maybe he should bring another hoodie just in case. Someone might need this one more than he would.
"I will try to find you in your dreams, Allen," Apollo said. "But Zeus is starting to get more and more cautious. He's slowly cutting off communication from the gods to their children again. It'll be harder to contact you, but I'll still try."
"Then what else have you come here for?" Allen asked.
No answer.
He looked up to see his father facing the piano stand. Apollo took up the crumpled piece of paper, turning back to look at Allen.
"You do know that this is the new Great Prophecy, right?"
What? Allen's mind yelped as the ground spun under his feet. Allen jumped up from his bed. Apollo nodded.
"You're really sure?" Allen asked. Apollo stared at him, and for once Allen actually felt very stupid. He was talking to the god of prophecy.
Apollo held it up to an angle as he faced the window. The sun was starting to set, but sunlight still shone through the glass window. Before Allen could realize what was happening, a flash of light caught his eye, and the paper caught on fire. Allen yelled as the paper disappeared in Apollo's hands.
"Dad!" Allen cried out, walking toward him. That was the only sheet of paper that held the words. His father wasn't the god of fire, but he really did know how to control the sun.
"Tada!" Apollo said, smirking as he produced a small scroll from his hand. Allen stared at him with disbelief. This was his father, a god. A very immature, rebellious, and weird guy.
"Crazy," Allen muttered. His dad didn't seem to hear him. Apollo produced another object in his hand: a medium sized brown pouch.
"Come on, son," Apollo said. "You gotta start listening to my haikus. Chill!"
A god was telling him to chill out.
"You were once dressed as a hobo called Fred when you visited Percy Jackson," Allen said, watching as his dad placed the scroll in the bag. "I should've gotten used to you a long time ago."
"As you could guess," Apollo continued as he handed Allen the bag, "The scroll holds the prophecy. And that bag is a special bag. No one will be able to open such a bag except the owner or without his permission."
"Thanks, dad," Allen said appreciatively. He placed the pouch around his neck, feeling the container of the prophecy grow smaller and smaller, until it was the size of a single dime. But Allen couldn't shake off the fact that it'd gotten heavier.
Allen had thought his dad was done for the day. Already knowing he held the Great Prophecy around his neck was very overwhelming. But Allen caught Apollo staring at the foot of his bed, where his bow lay. The quiver lay on the ground, with arrows scattered onto the floor.
"I see you've kept your bow in amazing condition," Apollo said sarcastically. Allen felt his cheeks grow hot in embarrassment. The light brown longbow was filled with scratches, and multiple parts of it were splintering. The drawstring was even starting to strain a little. The edges of the wood were already cracking, too.
"There's always a new one at the weapon storage," Allen said, shrugging.
"But I wanted to come here," Apollo said, grinning, "To give you this."
Allen took the pitch-black arm guard the three-fingered glove that had appeared in the god's hand. The arm guard was made of leather, and looked quite firm. Allen put it on his left arm, feeling the weight of it. An arm guard was supposed to protect one's inner arm from being injured by the weight of the bow or the snap of the bowstring. Only Allen's jacket sleeve had prevented him from receiving such injuries.
The three-fingered glove provided an archer's drawing hand with a better grip. Allen's fingers brushed against the smooth, black leather. He smiled.
Yeah, I can get used to this, He thought as he tried on the three-fingered glove. He knew some of his brothers and sisters had these, but he never actually thought of getting some himself.
"Thanks," Allen said. His dad smirked, but Allen couldn't really see why.
"You really think your father would get you such small gifts?" Apollo said. "Zeus and Poseidon aren't the only ones who can make things extra fancy."
"What do you mean?" Allen asked, still feeling greatly confused. Apollo huffed in annoyance.
"Dude, your tiny water friend is able to take out her sword just by unclasping her necklace, yes?" Apollo said slowly, as though he were speaking to a little kid.
"Yes daddy," Allen muttered in annoyance as he looked at Apollo. He'd had his friends telling him his dad was hot (not in the sun god kind of way), and he'd already gotten used to his father calling him a dude. Gods, even Allen didn't do that. His father was very annoying sometimes.
Why would his dad care about Elli's sword, anyway?
"Well, my little archer," Apollo said, "You only need to think of or say a single word." Allen stared at him blankly.
"Uh, okay," Allen said. Apollo's eyes lighted up in frustration. "Okay! Okay!" Allen said quickly, holding up his hands in surrender. "What's the word, then?"
It was Apollo's turn to look blank.
"Eh that," Apollo said sheepishly, "Is something I'm too lazy to foretell."
Allen almost wanted to smash headlong into the wall.
"You give me a nice gift," Allen said. "And you don't even know what this so called word is, and supposedly just thinking or saying that word when you need it will do something to this arm guard."
"Here, hold up your bow," Apollo said. Allen reached for his bow.
Allen yelped to see the bow burn into this air so quickly as he yanked his arm away. The fire however, didn't affect the bed or the environment in anyway.
"Thanks, dad!" Allen said angrily as Apollo huffed in aggravation. "What was that for?"
"Pick up your bow."
"But-"
"Pick up your bow," Apollo repeated, almost infuriatingly as he enunciated each syllable carefully. Allen sighed.
He held his hand up in a position where his bow would've - or at least should've - been.
"I feel stupid," Allen muttered.
"Excellent!" Apollo's face lit up as if he were about to produce another haiku. "Now, I guess just think of anything that comes to mind."
Allen wanted to just stare at him more, but instead he closed his eyes. Maybe it might work.
Uh.
A moment passed. Any word would do, Allen thought as he opened his eyes.
And then something appeared like an idea in his head.
ἀφήτωρ
He was so glad that his eyes were open to see in front of him. The arm guard seemed to morph and grow as Allen registered the tiny clicks that were being emitted from the device. Before he knew it, he was already holding an ebony longbow in his hands. It was a beautiful model, and for some reason he felt his eyes were playing tricks on him. The bow wasn't black, but it had a certain touch to it, as though the weapon were made with carbon fiber. The draw string glinted silver back at him. The arm guard extended behind his shoulder, and Allen glanced back to see a dark black colored leather quiver filled with ebony arrows.
"Interesting word, by the way," Apollo said, pleased to see the astonished look on Allen's face. "Fitting word for an archer, as it literally means to let loose,"
"Aphetor," Allen said again, slowly. It was the word that'd come to his mind. He didn't need to be surprised that Apollo knew what Allen had thought. "T-thanks."
"One of the strongest woods out there. At least the bow won't break, eh?" Apollo said, waving his hand dismissively. "Well man, my golden bow is obviously still better, but the color black wouldn't get detected so easily, would it? And the quiver will refill itself, if you actually have enough time."
"You're saying that it'll take a while to duplicate itself," Allen said slowly. Why not? Apollo nodded.
"There's my son that doesn't act so dumb!" Apollo said happily. Allen twitched when it almost rhymed. Apollo's smile slowly vanished. Allen willed Aphetor to close. He felt the bow melt into his arm guard. It was just too cool.
"The bow string is unbreakable," Apollo said quietly. "Unless your hope and determination on the thing you set your mind to is dashed."
Allen stared at him. For once, he felt afraid. He'd panicked when the Nemean Lion appeared and felt devastated when Elli'd been taken away. But never afraid.
Until now.
"Hang on, okay?" Apollo continued. "And don't lose faith in yourself Allen. You have to keep trying."
Allen nodded slowly. Apollo smiled. Was that pride in his face?
Allen brought his hand to his chest, where the little pouch that held the tiny scroll of paper rested.
"The Great Prophecy," Allen murmured.
"Yeah kid," Apollo said, grinning. "The time is upon us again."
"You say it like you're excited," Allen said glumly.
"Hey," Apollo said. "A growing boy like me needs some excitement,"
"I feel like I've had enough," Allen muttered. Apollo stood up.
"Well, I'd really like to say hi to Janelle, who's coming in soon I believe," Apollo said, "I've visited her in her dreams. She's very helpful, smart, kind. I'm glad she excels greatly in her healing abilities. But I think I've stayed a bit too long."
"Hey dad," Allen said. Apollo looked down at Allen. "Kalley can see the future, can't she? She can tell what's going to happen. She'd shown signs of it in the restaurant."
"And?"
"How is it different from your foretelling?"
"Allen, I only tell what is going to happen," Apollo said. "She's much more powerful. She can also tell when."
"Oh . . ." Allen said. What a wonderful reply.
"Take care, 'kay son?" Apollo said as his form turned brighter. Allen nodded.
He closed his eyes and turned his head away from the god. He caught the slightest glimpse of the door knob of the cabin starting to turn. Janelle would enter, and not even know that their father was here. A bright flash of light, and he was gone.
"Thanks, dad."