Blooming Friendships Anew
"You are what?" exclaimed Artemis, a dangerous, flickering aura coming off of the furious goddess. "And you wish to tell me now? Who's coming with you?"
Percy looked at Faith imploringly for help, but a shrug was all he got. He wished he didn't need to, but as a guardian of the Hunt, he needed Artemis's permission to leave the boundaries of this very camp tomorrow morning. When they had came back, Thalia was more than displeased.
"Well? Did you hide it somewhere else?" Percy had hissed at her quietly a few moments ago. The stubborn raven had only smirked, patting on the heavy plump mattress she comfortably sat on.
Thalia had replied back with the same tone he used on her, "That's payback for not including me in your quest."
In simpler words, she was upset for 'missing out on all the fun', as she called it.
"Faith and Annabeth are my companions," said Percy, cowering under the fiery stare of the moon goddess as she huffed in disapproval. He added,
"We're only going to the Underworld, that's all."
"And, dare I ask, if you don't come back." It was not a query.
"I'm Percy Jackson; I have luck seeping through my veins." A few nearly-silent snickers came from the hunters, utterly bemused. Artemis glared at him in annoyance, her dress seeming to make a swishing sound every time she turned and huffed.
At once, she stared at him in the eyes rather sternly. "Go the Underworld. Nowhere else. And that's under my orders. Be back before sunrise for the next two weeks. If you do not come back, Perseus—" Artemis clasped her hands together, "—we'll assume you're dead."
Percy and Faith, who both sat in his bunker with unusual stillness, nodded with certainty. "We'll do as you wish, My Lady."
If he blinked or even looked away for a second, Percy would not have seen it. He saw the goddess make the same series of hand movements.
We're here for you.
A small, frail figure that belonged to Estelle approached him, looping her arm in his. "You're leaving?" He nodded thinly. She said again, "Can I come with you?"
Percy yelped at the idea, imagining the countless possibilities if the youngling joined him on the journey to the god of the Underworld. Faith gave him an enlivening look, trying not to smile.
Slowly, he angled his head to stare at Estelle in a sort of adoring way. "You will grow up to be the fiercest and most loving woman like our mother," he murmured tenderly. "I'm not wasting that on a quest where you might get hurt."
Estelle sulked noticeably, letting her feet rock back and forth, every so often bumping her heel against the floor. "Okay, but promise me you'll come back. With your friends. I don't want them dead either."
Percy felt a sharp, stabbing pain clear his head. Her words vaguely reminded him of young Nico, when he made him promise to protect Bianca—
"Are you okay? You look very pale," remarked Estelle at him, stroking and scratching Aegeus's nape as she did not break down from his ghostly gaze. Percy grimaced faintly. "I'm okay. Something just occured to mind."
For once, he slept fitfully through the night, terrified for what was to come on their way to the Underworld.
*.·:·. ✧ ✦ ✧ .·:·.*
A cold, freezing wind licked his pristine skin, a door creaking open. The dark, shadowy blankets lay over Percy's body, the fluffy white pillow shielding his eyesight. A grunt followed, and then a trudging of leather clinking against clanking wood—
Percy's eyes fluttered open delicately, his godly senses widely alert. With utmost precaution, he carefully tugged against the folds of his thick woolly blanket, sliding off his body.
A restrained smile was what awaited him. "You're awake. Just in time," heaved Faith, seeming to struggle to put on her knee-high leather boots. Droplets of water dripped from her drenched hair, which was awfully made into a limp braid.
She snorted at him, not bothering to mind the others that snored in their sleep. "It's your turn to take a bath in the showers. Your blonde friend is almost finished, I think." She seemed to tackle her boots now, cursing and growling at it.
With the last bits of effort, Percy hoisted himself up to his feet. It was all he could do to keep from closing his eyes again.
"I can help," blurted Percy, scowling at how unpleasantly his voice bounced off the walls of the dark cabin. Faith proceeded to stare at him, before he gestured to her boots.
The healer's face burned a crimson red. "Er, thanks? This thing really irritates me every morning when I have to change clothes at some point of time."
Percy kneeled, noticing how awfully thin her body looked. Without warning, Faith shoved her foot inside, pushing the heavy boots to trample his fingers.
He swore colorfully; Faith began apologizing but couldn't help and laugh.
"Here, hold up, we have to remove the laces first," Percy told her, only to receive an eye roll from Faith.
"Who has time for that?" she hissed, playing with her braid. "Just help me shove my feet in or something."
The woman stomped again, and this time Percy had slipped his hand away. He peered up at the agitated healer, her face pink.
Percy began unlooping all the thick loops and curls that crisscrossed through one of her leather boots. He heard an unruly snort come from the healer as he had managed to form a knot in the midst of it.
Percy couldn't stop the smile that crept up his lips. He glared at her, bemused, "Help me, will you? Gods know what lays beneath this thing."
A light smack was what he received as they both burst into strained laughter, failing to keep quiet. At one point he chortled and cracked up again madly, emitting a low purr from Aegeus, his tail swishing about.
"Your voice is so loud—" Percy rolled her eyes at her; she was the one literally shouting at him, "—and you might wake up the others!"
Percy held up her boots, which now had its loops halfway undone. "You're the one to tie all of this again, okay?"
The healer snorted, "As if."
Faith discreetly settled her socked foot in with a few disgruntled growls and swears. "I think I wanna wear my other boots instead," she said.
Percy stared at her with incredulity. "Are you serious?"
"Kidding."
After a good and tiring several minutes, Faith stood up, her legs wobbly like a baby fawn's. He grinned cheekily, only for the healer to stick her tongue out at him.
Faith shoved a warm, turquoise towel to his chest. "Go. It's your turn to take a bath, you smelly shit."
With a light bob of his head and a smile on his face, Percy took the towel and proceeded to glare ominously at his clothes.
One last time, a voice whispered, almost gently. One last time to be the Percy Jackson everyone knew.
Refusing to shake, he took his camp tee-shirt, giving it a look before leaving the cabin with it in his arms.
The skies were painted with a tangerine orange, the hills dipping lower than the bright little dot that arose slightly in the distance. When Percy looked the other way, a crescent moon glimmered in the distance. A fine, cloudy line stood out between misty night and bright sunrise.
Cautiously, he wove through the dark, avoiding to step in any twigs or little rocks that seemed to lay in his path.
Percy approached the fresh tiled bathrooms, where the lamplights flickered brightly. The sound of trickling water filled his ears, and his head perked up. It stopped for a quick moment, then—
He choked on his saliva at the sight.
"What—what are you doing here?" muttered Annabeth in a rasp, clutching her towel on her body. She awkwardly avoided his gaze by stepping aside and looking at her neatly folded clothes interestedly.
Percy ignored the pounding in his head as he stiffly set his clothes on a little metal rack. "I'm about to take a shower. I don't want you here."
She swallowed but obeyed. Annabeth brought her clothes with her to a vacant stall as Percy started undressing himself.
Percy didn't know why he felt oddly paranoid, but he chose to listen to the shuffling of clothes and footsteps until all he could hear was the ringing silence. Good.
*.·:·. ✧ ✦ ✧ .·:·.*
With a backpack slung over his shoulder, Percy grunted as Faith trudged him along to the wooden pillared threshold that glistened under the sunlight. He wasn't surprised when they've gotten a few odd looks from the campers.
Annabeth waited there, her lips pursed. There were wet splotches in her checkered jacket from her dripping hair.
The daughter of Athena stared formidably at the clothes he wore. "You're not wearing your cloak."
"I thought that might've been pretty obvious." He could tell Faith had bitten back her laugh.
"You're not bringing the Star-Eyed?" she asked again, arms crossed as they waited for Argus, who prepared their ride to Manhattan.
This time, Percy looked at Annabeth. Like, really looked at her. "No," he admitted. "Aegeus is better off with the Hunt."
Luckily, Argus shuffled to them in a hurry, patting the resting dragon that lay motionless beside Thalia's tree. He gestured to the vehicle, the car's scratched windows catching Faith's attention.
"Off to Los Angeles, then," said Annabeth, her voice flat. "Drop us near the Amtrak Station, Argus. We'll take it from there."
The many-eyed only nodded back, its eyes darting between Annabeth and him. As if answering a question, Percy shook his head.
He swore he saw Argus frown.
*.·:·. ✧ ✦ ✧ .·:·.*
Bringing the burnt crispy toast upon her mouth, Thalia felt a mingling pair of eyes on her as they ate rather silently in the Dining Pavilion.
Apparently, Chiron had not informed the others about Percy, Faith, and Annabeth's disappearance the next day, resulting to lots of bewildered faces. To Thalia's surprise, the centaur had not even given the campers any information of their whereabouts.
"They will be back," Chiron had said, "and we must be prepared if they do."
Finally, Thalia set down her half-eaten toast and turned her head to Estelle, whom played with the fried egg that splattered its orange yolks on her plate.
"Is it dangerous? Where they're going to?" asked the brunette, frowning slightly.
Thalia focused her electrocuting stare on Estelle. "Depends, if their luck has ran out," she said as Estelle blanched. Thalia added ruefully, "Don't worry, your brother has luck pumping through his veins, as he said. He'll be perfectly unharmed once he gets back."
Thalia prayed she spoke true.
Finishing with a clatter of silver china, she clumsily wiped her crumble-edged lips with her jacket sleeve. The hunters filed along in a neat order, their stares blank and uncomprehensive. The snooping creature that seemed to be trudging about caught the campers' looks. Thalia wasn't surprised, but a little smile was all she showed.
Unfortunately, that little smile soon vanished at the sight of a dark-haired boy, whose skin looked way healthier than it had been before; courtesy of Will Solace, of course. He stood rather uneasily on the brick walls of the cabin. She caught Nico Di Angelo's wild-eyed look, astonished.
What could the son of Hades possibly want from her?
Thalia bobbed her head to the others subtly with a suppressed nod from the others. Silently, Estelle carried Aegeus in her arms as the rest of the Hunt stepped inside the somber cabin, swinging the door shut with a pattern of metal clicks.
Annoyed, Thalia stared down the boy. "What do you want?"
Nico remained emotionless, those mulled-over eyes darkening. "I . . . it's with you, isn't it?" he muttered.
A faint pounding began as Thalia simply refused to break down his gaze. The boy looked stressed. "Be more specific," she told him quietly.
"The Book; the one with the—" Nico started speaking in a lower volume. "—Fyrmarcs."
Thalia let out a shuddering breath. "Yeah, why?"
A sigh of relief escaped Nico. Thalia's heart skipped a beat in fear, anxious for what was to come. He started, eyeing those watching campers that walked away once they saw the glaring son of Hades.
"You need to be careful; where you hide the damned thing, that is." Nico slid his gaze away from hers. "It's dangerous. Once it gets in the wrong hands—"
"What is your point, exactly?" snapped Thalia at him, biting her bottom lip. No, she was a fool for telling him that she was in possession of the Book—shit, Annabeth had trusted her—
"Whatever happens, I don't care whose life may be at fucking risk, do not hand it over."
Thalia could still hear the pounding in her chest as Nico walked away. She smirked lightly, realizing the boy headed towards the Apollo cabin instead of his own.
*.·:·. ✧ ✦ ✧ .·:·.*
She sat, silent, as she sat uneasily on the patterned chair that seemed to give a cold bite on her skin. Faith spun her head around in a lazy-like manner, peering at the white glowing neon sign that hung above. She didn't know how particularly long she'd been staring at the words that read WESTBOARD TRAIN and the small imprinted numbers that stood beside it.
"How much longer, you think?" murmured Percy, twiddling with a opaque pen that twirled between his slender fingers. He sat with his legs crossed in a very careless manner, his backpack sitting between them.
"Fourteen minutes," Annabeth told him. Ever since they have been dropped off of the crowded Amtrak Station, the three of them have had small conversations that ended very boringly. It was awkward, nonetheless, especially between the two used-to-be-lovebirds that sat opposite her on each side.
With her alarmed senses, Faith had been glaring for the past three minutes at a rather oddly dressed woman. She wore a fancy, dark green cloak that draped over her body like a massive blanket. Her long eloquent scarf hung loose on her neck rather limply, along with a flat orange-striped hat that extended with a shallow curve in both ends.
Suddenly, the raucous, metallic shriek heralds the arrival of the decrepit train, standing in defiance of its condition—all corroded iron and tacky upholstery. The doors reluctantly eases open with the force of a stocky station guard, as if gripped by age, the handles coated with a shivering hint of freezing cold.
In a hurry, Faith nudged Percy in the elbow as a horde of people who opt to find a decent seat for themselves strode towards the opened doors. They squeezed within the crowd, praying there was a damned seat because gods above, waiting for an hour in the platforms doing nothing could be pretty tiring.
Faith heard the relieved sigh that fell from Annabeth's lips as they settled on a deserted area; Percy sat along the window with his bag on his side, merely refusing to let anybody sit by him.
Being the very appropriate woman she was, Faith gave him a rude hand gesture and sat down next to Annabeth.
"Oh, dear, young man!" cried a lady, clutching her billowing cloak around her body as those beady eyes looked upon Percy. "You wouldn't mind if I sat here? After all, it seems to be unoccupied."
Annabeth, embarrassed, gazed over at the window to her left, watching as fog sweeps amongst the glassy window. Faith did not blame her, as she too, crimsoned like a strawberry.
Percy stared back at the woman, ignoring the attention they got from the other agitated passersby. His cheeks bloomed an embarrassing bright red. "I, er, I'm saving this seat from someone. A friend."
Now, the aging woman glanced rather intently at the shirt Percy wore. Faith swore softly, fidgeting in her seat.
"Bad idea, bad idea," murmured the daughter of Athena from the old lady's reach, crossing her arms as a failed attempt to hide the shirt she wore.
Faith couldn't help but nod and say, "I agree. You don't think my clothes are obvious, do you?"
Annabeth only shook her head in response.
Slowly, a somewhat sincere smile formed on the lady's chappy and pale lips. "Well, I do hope your friend arrives earlier. You wouldn't want other people to mistake your loyalty as selfishness, I suppose."
She gave one last nod to him, then hurried on to the next compartment with a swishing sound.
Faith waited for a few more idle moments, looking around for any signs of wrongdoings. Annabeth seemed to be doing the same, whilst Percy drew little stickmen on the foggy window.
The healer let out a tired sigh through her nose. "Honestly, I think wearing your clad suit that Lady Artemis gave you would've been better."
Percy laid his head back, exposing the thin pale scar on his neck. "Oh, of course. Wearing silvery armor with a big-ass sword on my back would make me blend right in."
Annabeth let out a snort, then covered it up as a violent sneeze. Faith grinned slyly, crossing her right leg over her left one.
"Five days," said Annabeth, trying to get comfortable in her seat. The coaxing scent of fresh bread and hot chocolate milk arose in the compartment. "We're gonna stay in this train for five days. I heard from time to time, the Westbound train would stop after landmarks and such. So, food isn't much of a problem."
"You think we wouldn't encounter any monsters?" muttered Percy, now wiping a symbol he doodled on the thick windows madly. He turned to them.
If Faith blinked, she wouldn't have seen it—the two shared the quickest eye contact before looking away, as if they had done this before and knew exactly what had happened.
"Snacks and drinks, dears!" puffed a plump young woman, whose face looked berry red. She pulled along a steel trolley where a laminated menu was taped onto its sides.
After seeing Percy's eyes go wide, they snickered when he furiously stuck his hand in the backpack then madly fumbled with a small black pouch in his hands.
"The hot chocolate and croissant, please." He handed the woman paper cash. Percy cocked his head in their direction. "What d'you guys want?"
"I'm not hungry, I've just breakfast this morning," said Annabeth, waving it off with a genuine smile. Faith considered a moment before saying, "Same here."
When the hot steaming mug of hot chocolate and butter croissant was given to him in a tray, the son of Poseidon offered a huge grin at the trolley lady who informed them of her whereabouts if they ever needed anything.
Alas, the doors closed with a metallic sound, leaving the ominous noise of chewing to take over.
"Croissant?" mused Annabeth. "That's how you say it?"
Percy didn't spare her a glance before nodding, lifting the croissant to his mouth once more. "Yeah, why?"
"Isn't it pronounced like quasant?" pondered Annabeth, her lips forming a smirk.
Faith looked over at her weirdly as well. "I say it as crow-sant. I never knew you say it like that. Now that I've heard it, it sounds bloody mental."
She didn't know when, but one of them snorted so bad they all ended up laughing loudly with their hands clutched tightly on their stomachs.
*.·:·. ✧ ✦ ✧ .·:·.*
The astonishing goddess strode aloft towards him, those evident red eyes digging into his skin. Her voice was gentle, yet death as she spoke in no more than a taunt, "We made a deal, Prince."
"I know." He hated how his voice cracked; how he was under the mercy of this damned woman like a slave—
The darkness seemed to be swept from the dark glittering folds of her gown. "If you are to be caught, or even considering to tell someone of your plans—"
"Don't you fucking dare," snarled the boy, baring his teeth at her. "I will do as you wish, but lay a hand on him and I'll banish you to Tartarus."
Those dainty hands intertwined with one another. Neutral, everlasting. "Very dangerous promises you're making, Prince."
Oh, gods above, she was enjoying this. He knew he was no match for the goddess. "Entertain me," he whispered quietly, "why do you want the ancient book?"
That spider-like smile remained. "Most would not understand, you see. The beginnings of the scrolls were woven into lie after lie as millennia passed by."
He tilted his head to the side, staring at those gleaming eyes. "Tell me what you believe, then." A challenge, to see who was really in control.
"Very well, Prince." The goddess strode along the poorly-lit cave, stroking the vines and little blooming flowers that shone in the firelight. "The one of universes and stars was a very, intelligent man. He deeply cared for what he made, yes, but has gone a little too far in his own selfishness—unaware of the dangers within."
Now, the goddess plucked a tiny lavender pansy, staring at it with deep interest. She continued with a misty-like voice, like someone from faraway, "He thought better and banished away his magic. Yet, the one of the universes and stars sought to be remembered for what he has created, and put all those knowledge in binded scrolls. He was prideful of his work. It was until other immortal beings dared try get their hands on it, so they may wield the endless power he has created."
"This," murmured the goddess, pausing as if to think, "went for ages. Seeking help, the one of the skies and the one of wisdom offered their guidance."
"He trusted them?" the dark-haired boy asked, forgetting he was talking to the goddess for a moment. "How could he entrust a thing as dangerous as that to others?"
A light, raspy chuckle echoed. The goddess began once more, "Well, I did say the man was quite wise. He had willingly given the one of the skies the scrolls, to which he had also promised the one of wisdom if they fail to protect the scrolls from any means of use, she would bear a cursed mark. A symbol to for the idle goddess to remember her mistakes."
"You didn't answer my question," he stated blankly at the goddess. "Surely a cursed mark was not the only payment the she deserved."
"Oh, no. The one of the universes wish to pass his creation to a worthy wielder, as per the prophecy of someone with the capability to wield it; control it. No one knows who they might be, and what makes it dangerous is that anyone could be that person. May be it hero or foe, Prince."
The silence engraved on her words as she finished with a whisper.
He knew why, he knew exactly why the goddess has told him. Because the risk of betrayal may kill who he loved most. If he played right into her hands, then maybe, just maybe, no one would get hurt.
The boy knew it was a lie.