Nothing could have been more refreshing than the shower. The warm, soothing water had run down her limbs and bathed her body in relief as she stood beneath the faucet, unwilling to move, simply breathing. No nap, no meal, no drink could have been as rejuvenating as the shower.
Or so Rowan ruminated as she stepped out into her room. She assumed she could call it "her room", now that she'd been staying in it for what felt like forever. Before the shower, she'd asked Cassian no questions as she'd healed his ribs and the strange claw marks on his arms, knowing she needed to attend to her own problems before more discussions followed. But now that she had showered and dressed, insatiable anxiety and curiosity set into her heart, and she hurried to his room.
He opened the door at her first knock, and she found herself inside the room for the second time in her life.
"At least I don't have to break in again," she joked with him when she saw his face, and he smirked. He gestured her to a chair beside the desk that occupied his room while he sunk into the couch.
Rowan's eyes wandered around the space, taking it all in. It was just as it had been the night of the nightmare, but now Rowan noticed something was off.
"You legitimately have no personal belongings, do you?" She raised her eyebrows as she spoke. "Like no pictures or posters or anything..."
She jerked her head back to Cassian when he snorted in laughter, his own eyes staring absentmindedly at the walls and furniture. "Mostly I'm too busy, to be honest."
"That..." Rowan gave a small chuckle. "Is depressing." And she yanked a small pocket knife that BoShek had given her from her pocket, flicked open the blade and carved a jagged "hello" into the desk.
"Problem solved." She stated simply as she admired her handiwork.
She turned back to Cassian, who was silently chuckling. "Thank you."
"Now," Her voice grew graver than she wanted, but her dread was as great. "What happened?"
- - -
Rowan's eyes had slowly widened throughout the entire story, but when Cassian drew out the now-ruined Celestial Bronze knife, Rowan's face reflected a fear and confusion rivaled by nothing he'd said before. Wordlessly, she held out her hands, and he gently placed the knife in them.
She examined it slowly, running a finger down the blade with care as she felt each new ridge and bump in the corroded material. Cassian waited anxiously for her to speak.
Finally, she did, lowering the knife to her knees, her face mesmerized. "This is... This is beyond... I've never seen anything like this..."
"Do you know what might have caused it?" Cassian asked, hoping beyond hope that she might.
"Well... Sirens are immortal, so it might just be because you attempted to kill an immortal being, but people have done that before, and this didn't happen. Did the siren secrete any acid?" She looked up, hoping he would say yes.
"No, why?" Cassian raised his eyebrows.
"Luke once had a knife that got destroyed by a monster's acid, so I think the only thing that Celestial Bronze is particularly vulnerable to is acid, but if not, then..." Fear stabbed Rowan's gut, and she dreaded what she knew.
"Then what?" Cassian's voice was scared.
"The only thing I can think of is some form of dark magic. But I've never seen it do this." She looked upon the knife with dread.
"Okay..." Cassian trailed off. "What about the visions?"
With an effort, Rowan jerked her attention to what he had explained he'd seen. "Demigods have dreams occasionally that are essentially visions of what might happen in the future or of gods warning them of something or even metaphorical versions of what's happening in the world or what's about to happen. It seems like you saw visions of what will happen in the future. But, in that case, someone wanted you to see that. And I don't know who. You generally can't trace the dream back to the person who gave it to you. There's a chance Morpheus would have sent you that, but he works in dreams, not in visions."
"Can the other gods send visions like that?" He asked suddenly.
"Yeah." Rowan nodded.
"Would it have been Persephone?"
Rowan looked up at the randomness of the question and cocked an eyebrow.
"The sirens were her handmaidens, right? It would make sense that she would use one to send a message." Cassian explained.
Rowan nodded, her eyes lighting up. "I see what you mean... But then there's the dark magic..."
"Someone might have hijacked her attempt." He mused.
"But who?" Rowan's voice was unfocused, distracted, as her mind raced with all the possibilities and she fought back the dread that filled her.
"I- I don't know... Was Kronos ever capable of dark magic?" Cassian asked.
"I don't know if titans are. I've met a few protogenoi who can use dark magic or, at least, their powers are centered around it." Rowan returned. "But most of them live in Tartarus. I don't know how they'd be able to affect anything here. When the titans and the gods appeared, it seems as if their powers diminished."
"Who are the most powerful protogenoi?" Cassian asked.
"Well... There's Gaea, but you know what happened to her. Ouranos was defeated by the titans- Kronos and co-overthrew him. And then there's Tartarus himself, but he wouldn't sink to doing this. Generally he just naps and watches after what happens in Tartarus."
"But there's the possibility." Cassian prodded.
"But there's the possibility." Rowan agreed. "And, if so, either he's had a change of heart, or something's going on here that is far more catastrophic than Kronos trying to regain power."
"I've been thinking..." Cassian began.
"Oh, no- don't do that." Rowan cut him off, smirking.
Cassian gave a laughing smile. "It's about something Octavian said." He noticed Rowan's face grow dark. "He said that Kronos is just the beginning."
"If Octavian is telling the truth for the first time in his blasted life, then his words shouldn't be taken lightly. But Octavian is great at getting into people's heads. He might just be trying to make us focus on something else while Kronos gets closer to killing and possessing you." She returned, noticing Cassian's flinch at the last statement. "I'm sorry..." She apologized hastily, meaning the words more than she could express, and resorting only to repeating it, this time slowly. "I'm sorry."
"For what?" Cassian asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I'm sorry you got dragged into this mess. I'm sorry your dad is Kronos, and I'm sorry you have to deal with the consequences of that. It- it doesn't seem fair, does it?" She sighed out the last question, her heart throbbing with emotion, and met his eyes, unflinchingly this time, compassion etched into every line of her face.
"It's not your fault." Cassian swallowed past the fear in his throat. "I'll find a way to survive."
"I guess I'm sorry you have to have that attitude, too." Rowan chuckled.
"It's your attitude on most everything." He returned, smirking a little, though it seemed more an understanding smile.
Rowan nodded. "That it is, isn't it." There was a long awkward silence before she spoke again, restraining a yawn as she handed the ruined knife back to Cassian. "Well, if I'm going to survive anything else, I need to sleep." And she stood, moving to the door.
"See you later." Cassian called after her.
She turned, the door open. "Is there gonna be a meeting about Jyn?" She asked suddenly.
"Yes. I'm going- why?" Cassian stood.
"If there's another mission, I want to be on it." She answered.
"I'll see if we can get started tomorrow, then. You can sleep tonight." Cassian returned and smiled a little to himself as she left the room and moved to hers.
- - -
Rowan's sleep seemed to have lasted only for an hour before she was violently awoken by Cassian shaking her vigorously and shouting her name.
"Get up!" He yelled.
"Meh..." She made a half heated swipe at him, missing by a few inches.
"We're leaving in an hour- now move!" And he stepped off the ladder to the bunk as she rose sleepily, her hair plastered to the side of her face from where she'd laid on the pillow.
"I'm coming..." She groaned as she half climbed, half fell off the ladder in an attempt to get to the floor.
Cassian was smirking when she looked up.
"What do I need to bring?" She asked, grabbing her backpack hastily and yanking the zipper open.
"Weapons, food, nectar and ambrosia." Cassian instructed, and she did as he ordered, bustling about her small room while he stood off to the side, watching her with arms crossed.
"Where are we going?" Rowan asked as she packed, keeping her eyes focused on her work and simply listening to Cassian's words.
"Jedha." He answered. "We're starting there."
Rowan froze and looked up, incredulous. "Jedha? That's a war zone."
"I know. But the cargo pilot is with Saw Gerrera."
"How in the world are we gonna get into Saw Gerrera's place? I had a run-in with him a year ago, and he almost tore me limb from limb 'cause I didn't care enough about his cause." She turned back to her backpack and finished shoving bags of ambrosia into the small space left.
Cassian chuckled behind her. "Then you didn't have much tact. Jyn Erso is our ticket in. She knew Saw for a while, and we think he'll recognize her enough to let us in."
Rowan straightened and swung her backpack on her shoulders, a mischievous smirk on her face. "So basically we're going on nothing but hope." Her grin widened. "I like plans like that."
Cassian laughed. "I though you might." He stated in response, and she made no return as she belted her blaster holster onto her hip and around her thigh.
She straightened up, met his eyes and nodded that she was ready. "Let's get this show on the road."
- - -
Maz was a generous benefactor to their trip, and by the time Luke, Clover, and Romulus had loaded the U-Wing, the sun had risen, and the long night fraught with battle and fear was over. They would be leaving Takodana with both hope and Polyphemus's dead corpse behind. Romulus had explained that the ship they needed was, in fact, on another planet, a planet by the name of Jakku. When Clover asked why the U-Wing would not be enough, Romulus simply told him to imagine flying through the hottest part of the center of the Earth in an insulated metal can. Clover nodded in understanding, gulping at the idea of being baked alive. Luke only looked amused, and entered the cockpit of the ship, slipping in beside Romulus.
They were facing the sunrise from there, and the brilliant sun illuminated the dust that floated about the cockpit as if they were tiny fireflies. He wondered if the sun rose here the same way it did home, just as Rowan was doing far away on Wobani, headed back to Yavin 4. He wondered about her, too, about what Romulus had said. And he wondered who the son of Kronos could be, to have survived for so long with such a father.
The sun rose slowly, the ship mirroring its actions when Clover and Romulus were fully settled. Pink and yellow rays of light illuminated the forest planet below, with its massive lake, sandy shores and vast expanses of woodland stretching as far as the eye could see. Maz Kanata stood upon the beach, her small frame silhouetted against the glittering, blinding reflection of the sun on the water. Luke watched her hand rise in farewell, and resisted the urge to wave back, sorrow choking him. He would miss Maz, miss her motherly wisdom, her profound perceptiveness.
But she, the sun and the beautiful planet were gone then, fading into the black of space as Romulus sent the ship into lightspeed and Clover curled up in the corner upon their bags to take a long-needed nap. Luke had lost all desire to sleep long ago, and the presence of the immortal beside him didn't help. Romulus was unnervingly silent for the first little while of the trip, his brilliant blue eyes fixed upon the dashboard and the window.
The silence became unbearable when it began to stretch into hours, and Luke broke it abruptly. "You said that Rowan was with Kronos's son. How do you know?" He asked the question that had been burdening his heart for a while.
"What? Oh." Romulus looked surprised, jerked out of his musings. "I saw her at a trading post on the Ring of Kafrene. I spoke to her, even." He explained.
"Is she..." Luke didn't know how to phrase all the worries pounding in his mind in one question.
Romulus understood. "She's okay, Luke. A little less okay emotionally, but okay."
Silence reigned. Luke felt sick with guilt.
"I should have been there for her. I shouldn't have left." He muttered, the words filled with self-loathing as he mentally whipped himself for all his mistakes. He was a fool; he knew he was a fool. When would he do something right? When would he be able to stop harming others? When would he finally get himself together?
"But you weren't, and you can't change that now." Romulus's words were harsh, a blow to Luke that he knew he deserved, a blow he repeated over and over in his mind for the sake of his own punishment.
"I know." He nodded, anguish contorting his expression.
"No- no, don't get me wrong- that doesn't make you a bad person." Romulus clarified, not missing Luke's pain for a moment. "It just means it's high time for you to go back."
Luke nodded acceptingly. Romulus simply watched the young man, pity etched into the lines of his face. The boy's path had been difficult. Conversation was swallowed up in silence, and after a while, Luke moved to the back of the ship, Clover replacing him- rather warily- at the front. He still hadn't gotten used to the idea of the werewolf being on their side in this fight.
Luke spread out one of the blankets Maz had given him upon the hard floor of the ship and stretched out on his back, folding his hands across his stomach and watching the ceiling above him shift with the movements of the ship. The constant rocking soon lulled him to sleep, and his breathing grew deep and controlled. He didn't dream, the exhaustion of his travels washing over him in waves, drowning him deep into the oblivion of his eyelids.
- - -
"Strange weather reports have come in from all across the nation today. Up in Washington, they're seeing tornadoes by the dozen touch down at once in each county, and wildfires of record-braking area are springing up in California. Our sources tell us that there have also been severe thunderstorms covering all of the Midwest, with barely a break in cloud cover at all. A massive hurricane is also heading for the Florida Keys, but it looks like it might turn and run its path down the whole of the state. All counties at the southern tip have been told to evacuate and hotel space in Jacksonville is running out..."
The words from the news report filtered lazily through the stifling summer heat, buzzing like the cicadas lounging outside through the open windows. The deadly calm of the ocean only a few feet away from the seaside villa contrasted sharply with the bustling activity indoors. Men and women hurried to and fro about the home, many bearing weapons of various shapes and sizes. Swords hung in scabbards; quivers stuffed to the brim with arrows were strapped securely to backs; spears were used as walking sticks or leaned against the walls.
Tables had begun to take up the entirety of the floor space, and two men soon entered the busy living room, waddling as they carried another heavy oak table into the already crowded space. Maps and strategic figurines littered the tables' surfaces.
Suddenly a man burst into the room, panic exploding on his face. All activity froze.
"What happened?" A woman spoke, moving forward, a toga gracing her figure, though her face seemed wasted from much torment and hardship.
"It's- it's..." The man struggled for the words to describe what he had seen. His hair was a ragged mess, pulled back but still persistently hanging in his face; his eyes were tired, this new panic the only emotion that seemed to have sparked expression in his eyes in a long time aside from dread and despair. Baggy clothes hung from his frame, an obvious symbol of malnourishment. War had ravaged him almost as much as it had done the woman before him.
"Leo, what happened?" Her voice was harsher this time.
"The sky..." He gasped. "The sky is falling. It's actually falling." There was a maniacal laugh.
"Show me." The woman commanded, and he led the way through the rest of the house to the back door.
The pair quickly exited, met with the sight of yet another man running up toward them. His messy black hair blew wildly in the wind, his sea-green eyes filled with dread.
"Percy!" The woman greeted.
"Reyna..." He gasped, coming to a halt before her and catching his breath for a moment. "Look." And he turned, pointing to the horizon.
The three of them stood there, watching with unspeakable dread, as shreds of a misty grey slowly slunk from the clouds above to the stormy depths far away.
"That's not rain." Leo noted, and Reyna nodded knowingly.
"Then the attack has begun." The words were a death toll falling from her lips. "Ouranos is on the move." She suddenly looked to Percy. "I need you to contact Tyson; it's time to start the attack."
"And our... other asset?" His look was significant, but tired. His youth had seemingly evaporated, replaced with an age and experience his eyes had never known. His face was haggard, barely shaven, and up close, his messy hair lost its wild and reckless look; it was simply the result of sleeplessness and business.
"Yes..." Reyna gave him a pitying look. "It's time to employ our other asset."
Leo simply looked at his feet.