The night was dark as, well, Nyx, when they stepped out into what ought to have been the morning, though the chill in Rowan's bones and the despair that bubbled like acid in her heart as she fought hard against it made it seem only a continuation of the dark, and endless permeation of the starless depths above, sunk down low to Earth, and so she found herself walking a little closer to K-2 and Cassian as they ventured out. Much like the meeting the day before, they had been given a set time, were expected to arrive, and were, as Reyna awaited them with her hands on her hips, unlikely to escape impending doom should they miss the time for departure.

Cassian, Rowan, and K were the first to arrive aside from Reyna and Romulus, who had declared solemnly, and with much consternation from the others, that he would not be taking the journey with them, that he was far more necessary here. The Earth, he'd said after their many protestations, was not his territory, and so he would only slow them down, with nothing to offer in return. Even now, standing in the dark, arms folded across his chest, eyes old despite the vigor of strength in his body, he observed the world about him as a foreigner, and Rowan could not help but understand.

The world Romulus once knew had already changed much in the centuries since his exile, but even she found the Earth starkly different from the one that she had grown up in, that she had lived happily in for most of her life. Had it not been for the familiarity of the atmosphere, the rich feeling of earth and trees and sea about her, the recognizable scent of home that she breathed, she felt she might have mistaken Earth for one of the planets she had just left. She glanced to Cassian, noting the furrowed expression on his face, and wondered how odd this was for him.

The others trickled out slowly from headquarters, taking the back exit so they faced not the beach that sloped downward into the depths of the sea, but the path that lay before them: a week-long hike though the wasteland of North America to Asheville, North Carolina, where Reyna assured them that Frank would be waiting. She had explained that his camp was something of a headquarters, a temporary stronghold in a hostile territory, and so the best place for them to begin their search for Ouranos's tomb. According to her, the journey there would be relatively safe, as the scouts they had between here and there were skilled and had reported no overwhelming amount of activity, and so rest that night had not been as fitful as it might have, and the bags beneath the eyes of the others were small.

Bohdi arrived first, on his own, a small backpack thrown over his shoulder, and the same feverish look from before in his eyes. He did not speak much as he reached them, withholding his comments to a simple muttered good morning. Cassian and Rowan had also been silent, only the whirring of K-2's joints as he turned about to take in the environment breaking the rustling quiet of the still-sleeping world. Luke, Jyn, and Clover came next, stepping slowly up the slight incline to them. Clover's eyes were wide and bloodshot, struggling against sleep. He, too, would not be coming with them, staying back to help his brother in the care of the demigods there at headquarters, and Rowan saw the sad glint in Luke's eye at the prospect of facing the long journey ahead without the satyr. It was one thing to lose Romulus, but another thing altogether to lose Clover.

The three of them made their way across the space, shivering in the morning breeze, to stand with Rowan, Cassian, Bohdi, and K, nodding their greetings and turning their eyes onto the sea shack to await the last of their party. Reyna, glancing at her watch, and Romulus moved forward to join them, followed by the beautiful figure of Hebe, goddess of youth and cupbearer of the gods, gliding forward in her shimmering green robes behind the two Romans, the light pouring from her features a sharp contrast to the hard-set grimness of theirs. When they arrived, Reyna glanced down at her watch again, frowned, then looked up.

"Any minute now," she mumbled to herself, looking anxiously over her shoulder to headquarters.

They came that instant, though, six of them at once pouring out of headquarters, voices loud and defiantly boisterous, laughing despite the heavy oppressiveness of the night still settled over them. They were Percy, Leo, Calypso, Baze, Chirrut, and Morpheus. Rowan did not begin to reflect on how small their party was till she realized that, of those six, Leo would be the only one accompanying them. The others merely came to say their goodbyes, and Rowan hoped that their goodbyes would not be eternal ones. She glanced to Cassian, sought comfort in the courage deep within him.

The group grew quieter as they came closer, but they had already shattered the weight of dread that hung over them all, and now they were at liberty to move with less restrained motions, stretching and yawning and meeting each others' eyes to read their the states of their friends. Rowan yawned widely, stretching her arms up over her head and arching her back till there were the small pops in her spine and she fell back into her usual posture with a satisfied grin. Hope returned to her features, and to Cassian's when she met his gaze, something of an amused smile on his lips.

"Well, good morning, my dear friends!" The cry came from Leo, who raised a hand high in greeting as they grew nearer. "Ready for a walk?" he laughed the question, and received a small elbow from Calypso at his side. Rowan tried not to notice the sad look in Percy's eyes, allowing him the dignity of privacy. Luke, too, noticed it, and his eyes fell to his feet, kicking at a root in the earth.

"Ready as we'll ever be," Rowan answered, yawning again, moving forward to Percy, first in line, and wrapping her arms about him in a warm hug. And so they moved, the demigods and friends shuffling past each other, embracing briefly, then lost to the current till their time was nearly up and they stood in a small cluster, the whispering crash of the ocean close beside them, peering into each others' faces beneath the blanket of darkness, wrestling with the anticipation of the journey ahead.

Cassian and Rowan moved to Baze and Chirrut, bidding their farewells, Chirrut taking one of their hands in each of his, holding them there, scrutinizing them with the milky white haze of his eyes as he did so.

"The Force be with you," he mumbled, letting them fall, a small, hopeful smile slipping across his features. They breathed in the solemnity of the moment, but soon they had the air crushed from their lungs by Baze, who swept in from the left and took them up in a massive bear hug, crushing them against each other and against his chest with a grunt and an exhale like a hurricane gust from his lungs.

Rowan found herself laughing as she extricated herself from the weighty embrace of their friend, glancing to Cassian as he readjusted his clothes, peering up into Baze's face with a smile of thanks, a chuckle building in his chest, too, hair windblown by Baze's lungs. Rowan bit her lip, forcing down the rippling giggles that threatened to break forth, and placed a hand on Baze's arm, grinning brightly as she met his eyes.

"Thanks, Baze," Cassian said then, glancing to Rowan. "It was an honor, and I hope we'll see you soon," he added, careful not to end on the sinking note in his voice. Rowan's smile lost a little of its luster, fading, nearly falling, were it not for the gentle gratitude that still flickered in her eyes.

"I bid you farewell, my brother and sister," Baze said, nodding, placing a hand on their shoulders, holding them close, unyielding, gaze swinging back and forth to meet their eyes. "May your journey be swift, and may the challenges you face serve only to strengthen you."

And, with that, he had turned, moving now to sweep up an unsuspecting Jyn in his embrace. Rowan looked to Cassian, met his eyes, read the reassurance in his smile, and moved with him in the direction of Percy and Clover, watching closely the proceedings, having bid farewell to the shivering Bohdi, who now stood off to the side, glancing over his shoulder with curiosity to headquarters, shaking something from his mind till he was approached by Leo and Calypso, the both of them smiling sadly, moving from where they stood near the shack, speaking together in low voices, parting with a soft, tender kiss, till Leo pulled away, eyes sad, moving hesitantly from the soft arms of Calypso. There was a heartbreaking pain in her eyes as he stepped back from her, her hands lingering, trembling, on his arms, as if to hold tightly to him once more before the endless night of Nyx grew like a chasm between them, but there was something sure in Leo's eyes, a hard resolution that she trusted.

Rowan glanced to Cassian then, a curious expression on her face, before she met Percy's eyes, watching their approach. He held out his arms when she drew near for one last hug, and she took it, breathing in the smell of the sea upon him, smiling at the memories of their adventures, at the glint of adrenaline in his eyes then as it had always been when she met his gaze, pulling back.

Rowan was called suddenly away then by Romulus, who stood off to the side, watching an exchange passing between K and Hebe farther off, the goddess's features hard and intent upon the droid before her, studying his metallic face as she listened to the words that poured in a murmur from him. She glanced between Clover and Percy, an urgent farewell in her expression, wrapping her arms about Clover one last time, but the grimness of Romulus's tone pulled at her, and she soon disappeared, jogging off in the direction of the werewolf.

Cassian looked back to Percy, of whom he had heard so much, and Clover, whose eyes watched him with a glinting laughter, and smiled quietly, furrowing his brow. Percy stepped forward, a laugh brewing in his eyes, and placed a hand on his shoulder confidentially.

"Good luck, mate," he chuckled, glanced to Rowan, and Cassian laughed gently in turn, understanding.

"Thanks," he smiled, met the eyes of the man with a grin, and moved onward, nodding his farewell to them, shifting the weight of his backpack on his shoulders, stepped over the grass, the dips and rises in the dirt, till he reached Bohdi and came to a halt beside him.

"Ready?" he breathed low, exhaling the word through a small crevice in his lips, scanning the small field and the demigods and gods gathered there.

"I- I suppose now wouldn't be the time to say otherwise," Bohdi said lowly, his voice a restrained laugh, glancing over to Cassian.

A wide grin split Cassian's features, and he chuckled, then looked to the approaching Morpheus, met the eyes of the first god he'd met in the madness that had been his life for the past week or so. Morpheus was moving slowly over the grass, wearing again the shimmering robes in which Cassian had first seen him, the multicolored fabric of it grazing gently the shoots of grass in the deep night. The bags beneath his eyes had softened somewhat, and there was more of the life in them that Cassian had expected from an immortal. He held out a hand in greeting, met the two of them with a smile, and Cassian grinned wryly, remembering all that had happened over the short course of time since he had first met the god.

- - -

"We both know that the shadow of the prophecy could very much refer to you, Rowan," Romulus's voice was low, and he glanced about, sure he was not overheard, sparing the dignity and the anxiety of his young friend.

Rowan's eyes grew dark. "It could, yes," she allowed, inclining her head.

"And if it does?" Romulus looked to her, met her gaze heavily. "What then?"

Rowan's expression hardened, and she nodded, understanding his meaning. She opened her mouth to speak, sucked in a breath, paused, then resumed her efforts before she was cut off by the werewolf once more.

"I don't question your powers," he said. "You saved your brother's life with them, and that was no small feat, but the exile has sapped you. It's sapped me," he elaborated, looked down to his grip on his sword-hilt, hung firmly at his side.

Rowan swallowed, nodded, then met his eyes. "Romulus," she began, faltered, "I was only able to save Luke because I needed to. Any other time that I've used it, it's been weak. But if the prophecy does refer to me," she paused, sucked in a weighty breath that sunk into her lungs, "then we can hope that I'll need the strength then as I needed it for Luke. But voluntarily, they do little."

Romulus nodded gravely. "I knew that," he said, and his voice was soft and low as he met her eyes. "It's a comfort to recognize that you do, too. Reyna said that you used them very little in the fight against Gaea."

Rowan inclined her head in confirmation. "She's right," she said. "But the prophecy will be fulfilled, and we can't stop it. If I am the shadow it speaks of, I'll be ready when I need to be."

"And if the effort kills you? Are you ready to face that?" Romulus's eyes peered deep within hers. intent, unwavering, but she met them with the same magnitude of honesty.

A small smile lifted up the corner of her lips. "I've been ready to face that since I was born, Romulus. I won't retreat in the face of it now."

Romulus grinned sadly, but there was a regard for her growing in his eyes, and he nodded, gripping her forearm as she did his, muscles rippling beneath her skin, her fingers hard and reassuring on him.

"I trust you," he returned, and there was a sorrow in his expression. He paused, sucked in a deep breath, then continued. "I am sorry that this lot has fallen to you."

Rowan shrugged, a wry smile on her lips. "It's never our choice though, is it?"

"No," Romulus agreed, raised his eyebrows, let loose the tension building in his chest. "I wish you the best of luck."

Rowan nodded her gratitude, let her arm fall back to her side. "Same to you," she said, a flicker of a smile on her lips.

- - -

Luke watched Rowan walk from Romulus to Cassian, moving with a measured stride over the uneven earth, glancing down at the dips and rises she tripped over, a helpless look of ironic laughter on her features, her eyes glittering with the growing adrenaline building within her. Luke grinned, glancing back to Percy beside him, who watched her with the same amusement. Jyn, no longer with him, had been detained by the effusive attentions of Baze and Chirrut, referred to with a gently spoken "little sister", bringing a confused look to Luke's face, but a smile to his lips.

"You're gonna have to watch them," Percy said then, jerking Luke from his reverie, and Luke let out a laugh at the comment, following Percy's gaze to where Rowan greeted Cassian, Bohdi, and Leo once more, taking her place beside Cassian and letting her gaze fall to the grass, glancing occasionally up to her companions. "She'd kill herself for him, you know. According to Morpheus, she already almost did."

Luke's smile fell to a concentrated frown, and he raised his eyebrows, nodding. "She skimmed over that part when she told me, then. 'Course that makes sense," he chuckled.

"I think we both know what that means," Percy grinned, and Luke met his gaze, forcing his own grin onto his lips, fighting against the dread building in his heart for the sake of his sister.

"You're probably not wrong," he agreed, raising his eyebrows once more, shrugging a little, turning his gaze upon her.

She met his eyes then, noticed the significance there, the slight twitch of his irises in the direction of Cassian, and understood then the nature of his discussion. He cocked his head slightly to the side, prodding forth the question once more, the question that had haunted her for years now, but knowing the answer, and watching with remorse the glittering amusement in her eyes fade to a grim despair with a barely perceptible shake of the head, and he remembered then the night that it had happened.

They'd been wandering the streets, the sun long set, the shadows of the cookie-cutter suburban homes cast across the pavement still cooling from the heat of the day, hunger tearing at them till the hallucinations of the heat became the hallucinations of their craving, and they stumbled on in a fog of unreality. They had seen him then, rising up from the sweltering street ahead, a thin, tall form, robed and shrouded, hard, red eyes peering from beneath the white of the cotton hood, a grim set to his lips.

Rowan had stiffened then, noticing the spectre before he did, tugging at the small knife in her belt, her eyes brightening with that burning vibrance they always had before the fight came, lips set in a challenging snarl, though their corners were turned up in something of a smile, her mind lost to the adrenaline pumping in her veins. They had always joked that, were it not for the dangers that beset them daily, she would have turned to cocaine long ago, and so was the expression upon her features now, the high of battle, better than a drug, but he had been late to catch it, for already she was urging them forward at faster speeds, and he stumbled alongside her, pulling at his own knife, straining through the intensity of the heat to discern their opponent.

The spectre seemed only to grow farther and farther away till they were convinced they'd been pursuing a mirage, and they slowed together, exhausted, the adrenaline falling from their limbs, sucked out with all the force of the sun's heat sucking strength from their limbs, and so they came to a halt upon the empty highway extending out into the growing night, stumbling to a stop against a tall tree, resting themselves against it, sinking to the earth. He'd thrown his head back, letting his face feel the shadow of the branches in the dying sun play across his features till his eyes drifted down to Rowan, saw her huddled against the hunger-pangs into the trunk, a grimace disfiguring the face that once held more youth than the flowers sprouting in the roots of the tree.

With an exhale that burst from deep within him, hopeless, floundering, lost in the guilt for the suffering of his sister beside him, he let his eyes slip closed into the harsh dreams of starvation that burned his eyes like acid in the morning when he woke. Beside him, Rowan went limp, asleep, leaning into him, and then the spectre returned.

He had been standing over them for a time, Luke thought when he woke, looking up into the leering face of it, the bright red eyes set into hard pale features staring him down with a harsh grin.

Luke had shifted, Rowan still heavy on his arm, and spoke, pulling the spectre's attention from his sister, upon whom its heavy gaze had fallen.

"Are you death?" he had asked, but the question was not quite as courageous as he had wished.

The spectre had turned upon him, laughed a low, eery laugh that brought chills to his spine, settled into his veins like ice. "No," the spectre grinned, "though I can understand the confusion. I am Eros," he said then. "I am Love."

"Why are you here?" The question had come from Rowan, who had straightened, her eyes hard, scrutinizing the spectre with intensity, fingering her blade.

"For you, Rowan Castellan," it had said then, eyes hard as hers.

"What do you want?" Her tone had not changed, steely, biting, and Eros seemed to step back a moment, raise his eyebrows, impressed, a smirk on his lips.

"To tell you what the Fates have told me. You will taste my cruelty in the future, but I will not be so cruel as to keep my silence," he explained, watched her shift her weight, turning to face him fully, eyes bright and wary.

"And what is that?" There was no tremble in her voice.

Eros had stepped back once more, met her eyes with a cold laugh. "The Fates decree this; you, Rowan Castellan, are marked for death. You will not taste love until then." And then the spectre had disappeared, fading into the evening breeze that brought a long-desired chill to the stifled earth.