Quest Prophecy

"Jackson, are you crazy?" demanded Faith hotly, her lips pursed and cheeks red as they stormed out of the cabin of Hades with quite a commotion. Her breath caught in her throat as Percy spoke so nonchalantly—as if there was nothing wrong in just visiting the god of the Underworld so suddenly.

"Yeah," replied Percy with a shrug, "I'm crazy. I've already visited Unckie Hades before anyway."

Faith snorted loudly, muttering furiously to him, "Did you just call the Lord of the Underworld Unckie Hades?"

"Mhm. Why?"

She narrowed her tawny eyes at him, strands of hair flying in her wake. A tiny upward curve from the corner of her lips dared appear. "Typical you."

Her boots quietly crunched the tiny pebbles beneath her. To her side, Thalia fumbled with her silver bracelet, twisting it constantly from time to time on her wrist. Faith offered her an odd glance.

"We're going on a quest, aren't we?" murmured Thalia, chewing on her bottom lip. "Even though it certainly doesn't feel like one."

Faith could only look at the mesmerizing way Percy's cloak swished and swooshed as the wind blew against it.

"Do you think it's possible? What Percy thinks?" she asked, her voice distorting into no more than a hushed whisper.

"I'm still against it!"

She flinched visibly, and Faith could tell Thalia did too. Tufts of loose blonde hair came into sight next to her. Faith secretly admitted that she had forgotten about the daft daughter of Athena. The woman was rather difficult to get rid of, but Faith had to agree that sometimes Annabeth had more common sense than Percy.

"Well," began Faith, slightly aware that Percy could hear every word that fell from their lips, "I think it's worth a try. It didn't really look like that Nicholas boy was lying."

"It's Nico, not Nicholas."

"Who told you?"

The bony whites grew evident in Annabeth's clenched knuckles. She chewed on her inner lip, almost as if biting back a snarky response. "That's what everyone calls him." Her voice was nothing but empty.

The swagger from Faith's face remained, her nose scrunched up in the air. "I mean, if I had the name Nicholas too, I would start telling everybody my name was something else instead."

"Damn you," was only Annabeth's reply as she rolled her eyes at her, eliciting a rude gesture along with it.

The Big House stood upon them, it's white vast columns trudging past floor by floor. The antique threshold was coated with a fine braid of leaves and vines. To its right stood a long, elevated platform to where Chiron rested, his almond eyes hidden within his hairy features.

Percy hesitated, seeing as the three other girls had caught up with his pace. He was sorely hoping that he would meet with Chiron alone. He cleared up his throat, making such grotesque noises to the point he grew into a coughing fit.

Those mighty hooves clicked within the weak floorboards as Chiron turned to him in a lazy manner. His eyes sparkled lightly with amusement. "Percy," murmured Chiron, sounding dearly like Paul. Percy kept upright, shaking his head subtlety.

"What must you need of me at such a busy hour? Surely Lady Artemis would pay you company." A twinkle of mischief sparkled in his eyes.

"We want to leave camp," said Thalia bluntly, her eyes narrowing as she back on a white, tall pillar.

Chiron stiffened, all life seeming to leave his face. "And why is that, Thalia Grace?"

"That is none of your business, you—"

Percy started. "We wish to have a visit with Lady Four-Eyed something."

"Lady Aphorei," Annabeth corrects, a twinge of regret hitting her like a blow to the stomach. Percy looked away, cocking his head at the centaur.

Chiron blanched. "Lady Aphorei? Only a small number knows of her," he mused slyly. "Did the son of Hades inform you of this piece of information?" They all nodded in sync.

A pattern of click-clacking sounds trudged through the dirty wood, creaking as Chiron huffed then sighed loudly. "I suppose I cannot do anything to change your mind?" he asked again, still frowning. Percy pursed his lips tightly, muttering, "Nope."

"Very well. You'd have to wait, then," murmured the old centaur, brushing his hands in a way. He stared onto the clearing as if it were an old friend. From a faraway distance, shouts of glee erupted. Chiron smiled dearly. "Or maybe not. Our Oracle is right on time, it seems."

Percy almost grinned, delighted to be able to see her mortal friend again, to tell her what has happened—he would introduce Rachel to Estelle and—

She does not know, that voice hissed in his head. She does not know what has happened, and what you have become.

"Whatever," muttered Percy insolently. Faith's hair snapped harshly against the wind as she turned to him in an odd manner.

"Were you talking to yourself?"

"No?" Percy mentally cursed in his head. Great—he had probably sounded like a babbling buffoon to her.

From afar, Percy could make a figure from the tiny flash of long, red hair and jeans splattered with heavy paint. Rachel had once told him it was her sense of style, and everyone had burst out laughing.

"Percy, Annabeth! Chiron!" exclaimed her bubbly voice as Rachel grinned widely at them, that bright smile shining. "I've missed you guys!"

Annabeth returned the smile; even Faith had introduced herself as a Hunter of Artemis with a grin in return. At this, the red-haired wonder's eyes roamed wildly, taking in the heavy armour and dark cloak Percy wore.

Rachel winced visibly. "Was I interrupting something? I can come back later if you're busy." She opened her mouth again to speak, then closed it again—hesitation reigning her soft facets. Over her shoulder, Rachel patted solemnly on her leather strapped-bag.

"Actually," said Chiron, spreading his mighty hands, "you arrived just in time. Percy and his companions wish to have a visit with a particular goddess."

The red-haired crossed her arms. "A visit, or a quest?" she chuckled. Chiron shrugged, the corners of his lips turned upwards.

Rachel cocked her head towards Faith. "I know you, I think. Pretty sure I've seen you before. I've been having visions again for the past month. It's horrible."

Percy gestured his hand onto the wide fields, where campers ran and chattered amongst one another. "Let's take it there, in the Cave." He took a glance at the Oracle Cave, something suddenly coming back to him. The book.

As the rest began filing out of the front porch, he took a swerve and reached for Thalia's jacket sleeve. Her choppy, black strands of hair blew back. What? her eyes seemed to say, a bit of annoyance gleaming there.

"The book," whispered Percy, sounding a little mad. "We cannot take risks right now. Check if its there, and I'll come up with some excuse why you left. If you have the chance, please change its hiding place."

"Why hide it from others? Its better in my arms rather than a place where anyone could wander."

"I—" Percy rolled his head back, exasperated. "Whatever! Just do not put it under your bunker, please—"

Annabeth turned to them slightly, her eyebrows furrowed. "What's going on with you two?"

Thalia, thank the gods above, spoke for him. "We were, er, just discussing the prophecy. Not the really big one, you know—it's the small one, the one we're gonna get from Rachel, in the Oracle Cave, and—"

"Okay, okay! I won't snoop around!" A mischievous grin happened to fall on the daughter of Athena's lips as she strode faster; away from them.

Percy felt himself smile. "You're a horrible liar, Thalia Grace."

She looked at him, those lightning blue eyes a storm under the morning sun. "I'll get you for that." The hunter gave him a playful shove in the shoulders before striding away, heading towards their cabin.

Once Percy had caught up with the group, he was immensely prepared for the questions they were about to bombard on him.

"Where's Thals going?" muttered Faith, squinting her eyes. Percy regained his posture, saying, "She forgot something. She'll be back very quickly."

They exchanged a look, the healer finally giving in as they cramped up in the threshold. Chiron spoke wistfully, "This is my stop. I suppose you three would hear the prophecy."

"Wait," said Annabeth incredulously, "what about Thalia?"

The centaur did not meet their wary eyes. "I believe that we should leave everything to fate. You three must be the questors."

Percy wanted to protest, wanted Annabeth out of his way—

Faith looked as equally disappointed as the blonde climbed up the small, creaking steps. "You okay with this?"

He hated how she said that in a tone, as if he couldn't take care of himself right. Percy nodded grimly, head hung low as they went up the creaking stairs as well.

Rachel stood there, quiet, silent, peaceful. Her eyes were closed, the evergreen smokes arising. Percy took a whiff of it, almost choking at the intoxicating scent. Faith scrunched her nose in disgust, fanning the air, and—

Percy took a step back, reaching for his sword. Three creatures faced on another, their heads cocking to one side. Rachel seemed to be in the midst of them, and—gods above, one of them faced him, their eyes blazing a bloody red. Sharp, arrow-tipped spines crawled along its long, elongated back.

It's sides looked a little bloated. Wait, no, those were—were—

Enormous, feline wings flapped, the green smokes through the air being cut. It's tail slashed amongst the floor, dissipating into mist once it hits the solid, wooden floors. Percy inhaled sharply, his eyes wide. What were these things?

With another intake of breath, Percy refused to tremble just by seeing those horrifying creatures. He could tell Faith and Annabeth were terrified too.

He winced as the misty-eyed Oracle had finally spoken, her eyes wide and dull.

Memory and souls together as one, spoke a rasp.

Rachel's head lolled to the side. The prince's hunt has just begun.

The daughter of the Marked, beware. The healer beside him flinched, playing with her strands of chestnut hair.

For seconds of moments be ensnared.

Seek the ones they enslave to breed,

the wielder shall awaken at a time of need.

A sudden gasp echoed loudly, the wispy fog disappearing as the windows felt moisty. Rachel started as Annabeth suddenly rushed to her to offer support, but the freckled girl only shook her head, muttering, "I'm okay. I don't need help."

Percy spared a longing glance at Faith, her eyes anywhere but his gaze. Oh, gods above, if Annabeth was going with them on this quest—he didn't know if he'll be able to—

"That settles it, then," said Faith, her face grim and tight. "Our first stop is in Los Angeles, California. A free ticket to the Underworld. Nice."

Annabeth seemed as uncomfortable as him. Rachel spoke up in a low voice, "I've been having visions. These . . . weird-looking symbols. It would pop up anywhere in my dream."

When they didn't speak, she continued. "That was why I delayed my arrival here. The moment I had woken up, one of those symbols had appeared in my room. I decided to stay one more night at home so I could find more about these symbols in Greek Mythology, but—"

"It was never there," whispered Annabeth softly, "because it was forbidden."

Rachel nodded again. "Be careful, okay? Don't trust anybody. The prince has begun his hunt."

*.·:·. ✧ ✦ ✧ .·:·.*

The boy panted and drew breath every second, begging for someone to find him; his sword arose, slashing wildly against dark—

A drawling, cackling voice whispered as one with the shadows that darkened, the oil lamps in his room fading. No, no no, the goddess was a traitor, an enemy. He needed to warn the others.

"Ah, disappointing. I expected better from your training in that camp you supposedly call home," that cold voice sneered, "perhaps you're better as a slave, Prince."

The boy's body trembled, a calm rage rising and rising. Fight back, he cursed at himself. With a shaken breath, he looked up at the snarling goddess. Her eyes glittered under the coat of shadows she hid under. The elegant twilight chiton and cloak she wore made it so she was impossible to see.

"What do you want, Aphorei?" hissed the dark-haired boy, those empty eyes glinting dangerously. He couldn't believe he trusted this damned woman, thinking she was a friend.

The goddess tilted her head to the side, her moonlit cascades falling back. "What I want is something only you can retrieve from the camp."

Gods, her voice was taunting. He narrowed his eyes at her, his chest rising and falling in an uneven pattern. "Do you think I would do that like some pathetic slave of yours?"

This time, her maniacal laughter sounded in his ears as she neared him. Close—she was dangerously close. "Oh, if a few conditions are set, I believe you would do as I say like some pathetic slave of mine, Prince."

"I wouldn't do that for anybody," he growled hoarsely.

Behind her, a figure slowly formed from little specks of wistful air and mist, forming that golden shaggy hair he had grown to love, along with that sun-kissed skin and bright blue eyes of mischief.

Shit. He was in deep, unending shit.

"Wouldn't do it for anybody? Then what about for him?"

Her sharp-tipped nails glazed along his throat now, like little spiders made of phantom wind crawling over his skin.

When she began drawing blood, her smile was one of dark, savage beauty.