Chapter 23
Thanas knew they were together the moment he saw them return from their private session during Theodora's procession. The others seemed to be surprised when they announced their relationship months later, but Thanas understood the look they gave each other every so often. It was the same one he used to give Ionna when he wanted to keep their relationship a secret.
He stared at the lifeless bodies in front of him, their hands almost touching, as if they'd been reaching out for each other just before they died.
"Here's the cart," Alexandros said. "Ready for pickup."
The two of them loaded the dead Romans onto the cart. They would be brought to a nearby field for the funeral. It was Thanas' idea to honor the Romans they killed. He convinced everyone that they would want the Romans to treat their bodies with the same respect if they fell in battle. He could sense Percy's intrigue and suspicion, but he hoped the immortal hero hadn't figured out what he knew.
Irene didn't say anything to him when he first suggested the idea, but she had flashed him a brief smile when she passed by. He knew she was appreciative of his decision. After all, if the goal was to save Percy, then Thanas had to show him that there was another way.
"You did well," Percy told him as they rolled the cart onto the field. He glanced at Alexandros. "You, too."
"Thank you." Alexandros bowed his head. "Your ability with the sword helps us all when it comes to battle."
"You're a good commander." Percy clapped his shoulder. "Keep it up."
"Hey, I'll help!" Leon called, jogging over from where they set up the shrouds.
The son of Zeus helped Alexandros guide the cart away.
Thanas sighed and stretched. "This was more successful than I thought it would be."
"You prepared well," Percy said. He crossed his arms and looked out across the field, nodding approvingly. "That's why we succeeded. You've given the strategy a lot of thought. I don't suppose that should be much of a surprise considering the company you've kept."
"Yeah, being around Ionna for years helped," he admitted. "It's hard, though. Balancing all the planning required to fight and the other side of life—the freedom, the laughter, the playfulness—is all really damn difficult. I can't see how you've managed to do it."
"I haven't," the immortal hero chuckled. "I haven't had what you would call fun in a long time."
"You should, though. Doesn't it make you feel happier? It's a lot less stressful."
"I wish I could. But I want you guys to live that life. If I have fun, then others will suffer. I'll do what it takes to end the war, even if it ends after your lifetime."
Thanas didn't respond. He stared out at the funeral pyres that had been laid out. A part of him resented the Romans for all they had done to his friends. A part of him blamed the Romans for Ionna's death, even though they had little to do with it. There was no doubt in his mind that he wanted to avenge the fallen. But he was afraid that, if he started, he would never recover. If he started, he would be of no use to Irene and he would just become what Percy used to be. He understood why Percy was so dangerous. Percy may have been manipulating emotions for centuries to pit Greeks and Romans against each other, but it wasn't as if he'd planted the seeds. Percy was simply taking advantage of the resentment that already existed with them. Irene was right in thinking that there was no point in "saving the Romans" or "saving the Greeks". They just needed to save Percy.
Thanas hated Apollo, too. He couldn't see any other reason why Percy had become such a monster other than that stupid god. And Zeus. It made him angry. Blaming Apollo fueled his dark side, the side Percy wanted him to embrace and Irene wanted him to control.
He wasn't very good at controlling it. Since they returned to Constantinople and began their re-conquest around a year ago, he'd killed six Romans. Considering that the number of Romans they had found in the past year or so totalled no more than twenty to twenty-five, he accounted for roughly one-in-four of all Roman casualties in the region. Second place for kills were Leon and Xanthe with two each.
"By the way," Percy remarked, "can you ask Leon and Xanthe to take their private time away from the sleeping quarters? Yes, I know those are already private areas, and it's more sanitary to do it there, but sound carries itself fairly far."
Thanas felt hot, feeling embarrassed for the two. "Ah, yeah. Of course. I'll... uh... let them know."
"Was the camp better?" Percy asked. "The forest is pretty huge. I'm sure you and Ionna found a few quiet spots."
His face felt like it was on fire. "Um... yeah, I guess."
The immortal hero grinned at him. "No need to be embarrassed. It's fairly common for kids about your age. Of course, society as a whole loves purity, but the truth is much dirtier."
Over the past year, they'd also grown a lot closer to Percy. When he wasn't on the battlefield and he wasn't devising a plan to attack the Romans, he was actually a really cool person. It wasn't hard to tell that he'd grown up exposed to things considered too mature for his age at the time. And, while he stood by what he believed in, he wasn't uptight. He figured that humanizing Percy was one step in achieving the goal of saving him.
"Does losing someone you love... does that pain ever go away?" Thanas asked.
Percy nodded. "Yeah, the pain goes away. One day, it won't hurt to think about that person. It'll just be sad."
"What about you?"
The immortal hero turned to look at him.
"What if you lost someone you dearly loved? What would you do?"
"Get angry, if I'm being honest. When Achilles died... I didn't exactly take it well. Not sure if you saw that or not."
"What if Irene died?"
"I hope she doesn't." Percy turned away and looked up at the sky. "She's the only person that stood by my side through all of this. I know she and I fight. We don't always see eye-to-eye. Sometimes we're on opposing sides. But, in the end, she's treated me like I'm worth something, and I'll always remember her for that."
"And us?"
"Of course I would be sad. I've spent a lot of time around you. You're more human to me because of it. It always works that way. The more you know and like someone as a person, the more it hurts when they're taken away from you."
Thanas hesitated. "Then... um... what about...?"
"Zoë?"
Thanas was caught off-guard. How did Percy know he was aware of her?
"I know you've been having dreams," Percy replied, answering the unspoken question. "It's hard, though, thinking about someone you once loved and knowing they're on the other side. Our paths once crossed. And now they branch off in different directions. I can't say I wouldn't be sad, but I wouldn't be bawling my eyes out if she died."
Thanas nodded. Suddenly, he was reminded of Leon's and Xanthe's situations. He frowned. "Will Leon and Xanthe be okay? Leon has family back in his village that he's afraid to lose, and Xanthe lost her mother and half-brother because of the war."
"Xanthe understands loss better than either of you boys," Percy said. "She was also close to Ionna, if I'm not mistaken. That's three loved ones that she has lost. Compare that to your one and Leon's zero and you have quite the imbalance."
Thanas stared at the ground in guilt. Because of Ionna's death, and with what Irene had shown him, he'd pushed the other two to the side. He'd forced his own wishes onto them, facilitating their relationship by urging them to do what he couldn't do with Ionna.
"Don't feel bad," Percy told him. "It's okay to be selfish. It's a natural instinct."
"It shouldn't be."
Percy's eyes flickered down, his lips curling into a smirk. "And why is that?"
"Well..."
Thanas didn't have a good answer. Maybe it was a natural instinct, one that preserved human life and allowed society to grow and prosper. Maybe, given the right circumstances, being selfish was the best thing to be. But he felt like it shouldn't have been. Being selfish, to him, meant to abandon the cohesive goal that they had set out to accomplish. If they wanted to defeat the Romans, they would have to let go of as many of their emotions as they could and make rational decisions to maximize the survival rate of Greek demigods. There was no room for being selfish.
"Sometimes being selfish is the only way to accomplish your goal," Percy said knowingly. "You may hesitate to choose one side over the other when you are faced with decisions. Choose one and neglect the others, you lose the support of the opposing crowd. Try to appease all, however, and you will lose everyone."
Thanas let the words sink in.
Percy gave him a salute. "But, overall, good job. Keep your chin up. It's hard. Don't worry if you need a break. War isn't for the weak-minded. Even the strongest can falter in the toughest of times."
Thanas nodded, and Percy turned around.
As the son of Poseidon walked away, Thanas felt a surge of energy rise up in his chest. It was tough fighting the war. But he needed to lead the charge. He owed it to everyone, being the most senior camper. He'd been there practically his whole life, though he'd spent his first year or two somewhere else. If he wouldn't lead them into battle, who would?
Alexandros and Viviana were the voices that shouted out loudest. Xanthe was a torrent of power and strength. Leon was the guide, the newcomer, who would help focus their efforts. Thanas had to take the reins and forge forward.
He owed it to them. He owed it to Ionna.
"There's about twenty of them," the Hermes scout reported. "They're all marching on foot. I circled around back, checking to see their prints and where they'd come from. I figure they're probably headed to Nicaea."
"Any prisoners?" Thanas asked.
"Two boys. They look young. Maybe ten to twelve? Both still in chains."
"Greek?"
"I'm not sure."
Thanas scratched his chin in thought. "Hm. Any way to find out?"
"If I get closer, they'll spot me. It'll ruin any possibility for an ambush."
"That's not ideal," Leon said. "If they're Greek demigods or legacies, and the Romans know we've advanced, we'll be put at a disadvantage. They'll kill the prisoners if we take the wrong step."
"I know." Thanas pressed his lips together firmly. He tried to figure out the best possible strategy. What would Ionna do? "Given that the prisoners are still children, we can't count on them joining in on the fight as willingly as an older prisoner. Did you confirm that they were going to head through the mountain pass?"
The scout nodded. "That's their plan. It's the fastest route."
"Our lines are already extended," Thanas mused, thinking out loud. "We've got most of our troops stationed in Constantinople. Alexandros and Viviana are escorting the party we rescued in Nicomedia back to the capital. Our heaviest troops are heading out west to Adrianople. That means we won't have any support in the time it will take for the Romans to arrive at Nicaea. In the town, we've got four guards and a medic for a group of nine Greeks and four Roman captives. Out here, we've got eight of us to fend off a group of twenty fully-armed, well-fed Romans. How many arrows do we have left?"
The head archer slipped his quiver off and took a glance. "Two blunts and one regular."
"The others?"
The three other archers showed him what they had: six blunts and seven regular arrows in total.
With the Romans' shields, and four Greek archers, sixteen arrows was practically nothing. Four shots each.
Thanas gathered them all in. "Okay, here's the plan. We're going to camp out in those woods, lying in wait for an ambush. Two archers on each side of the road. Figure out who goes where and make sure you're at least one hundred paces away from each other. Leon and Xanthe, you two will circle around their rear and surprise them from behind. Damianos and I will meet them head-on."
"When does the attack commence?" the head archer asked.
"Depends." Thanas turned to Damianos, the scout. "Will they advance at night?"
"It's a possibility."
Thanas looked around at the group. They were watching him expectantly. His eyes landed on Leon. He tried to imagine the scenario playing out in his head. If everything went according to plan, it would be Leon and Xanthe advancing in on the pincer movement that would ultimately deliver the final blow. Looking up at the sky, he saw nothing but dark grey clouds, as if a storm was about to start.
"Lightning," Thanas muttered. "That's our cue."
Leon's eyes focused. "Lightning?"
Thanas nodded to himself, putting all the pieces of the puzzle together. "Yes, lightning. You and Xanthe will be the ones executing the pincer movement." He looked up at the archers. "Use your discretion. There may be a couple that try to flee for help. We'll only speed up their hunt. If we take them all out, we'll be gone by the time they find out what happened. If we let some free, they still have a chance to catch up before we reach Constantinople. Pick off anyone who has managed to flank us. But try to avoid killing anyone. We need to try to capture the leader alive. And we don't know who that is."
"Yes, sir," a couple of the archers chorused.
"Our signal is lightning?" Leon asked. "When we're in position?"
"When they've entered the ambush zone, and you and Xanthe have taken to the road, covering all rear escape routes, you summon a bolt of lightning. When it flashes, I'll know we're ready to start. Archers can spare one arrow each at the beginning of the battle, when it's all chaos."
Leon and Xanthe glanced at each other. Xanthe gave him a reassuring nod. Leon smiled and turned back to Thanas. "We got this."
"Then let's do it."
They didn't need much time to prepare. Thanas calmly sat at the edge of the woods, staring out at the road. It was the first time in a while that he was able to just enjoy nature. Damianos sat next to him as they waited.
It was probably around dusk when the lightning flashed.
The sky had darkened significantly, and it looked about time to go inside a building for safety. The brilliant blue flash lit up the sky before a blast of thunder rattled his ears.
Thanas shot up to his feet and summoned his troops. Ten elite Persian soldiers dug their way out of the ground, forming a row behind him, shields up and ready to fight.
Damianos shivered. "I'll never get used to that."
Thanas shot him a smirk. "Who knows? Maybe one day a half-sibling of mine will summon your essence as an undead Greek warrior."
"Ha!" Damianos laughed. "Not a chance. I'd like to live a long life. Not die on the battlefield at seventeen."
"We're the same age. We can die together."
"Good luck with that dying shit. I'm not dying today."
Thanas laughed quietly. "Good. You can't die yet. We still need you. Stay behind the undead Persians. You should be safe."
"You don't have to tell me twice."
They advanced onto the road, spreading out like a fan from the Far East. Thanas extended his left hand and the shadows conglomerated together to form his helmet. With his right, he summoned his sword. The shadows swirled around mysteriously, solidifying into the dark metal blade. He placed his helmet on his head, fitting it tight, and held his sword at the ready.
The Persian troops behind him raised their shields in a defensive stance as they marched forward.
It didn't take long for Thanas to find the group of Romans. They had stopped and fallen into a defensive formation. In the darkness, he saw one body on the ground, crumpled like a ragdoll. Another figure was kneeling beside the body, as if tending to it. Thanas figured one of the Apollo kids had fired a regular arrow. The victim was dead.
The man guarding the front of the Roman group saw him and raised his sword. He barked orders at his troops, and they fell into a defensive line.
An arrow flew out of the woods and slammed into one of the Romans' shields, deflecting off and skittering harmlessly off into the ground nearby.
Thanas glanced over his shoulder at his troops and ordered, "Attack!"
The undead warriors chattered in assent and charged forward at the Roman line. Thanas followed closely behind, leaving Damianos as a lone target somewhere behind. Thanas wasn't worried. The Romans would stay in their defensive formation until they realized that they actually outnumbered the enemy.
Thanas picked a spot in the Roman line and pointed his sword forward as he ran. He hoped one of the archers would understand what he meant.
He bellowed a battle cry, preparing to meet the Roman wall.
Thwack!
An arrow sprouted from the neck of the Roman soldier he'd pointed at. With a grin, he charged through before the Romans could close ranks. He slammed the butt of his sword into the helmet of the Roman in front of him before swinging across and catching another in the face.
Two of his undead Persian troops filled in the gap, preventing them from surrounding Thanas. He stepped backward and parried a blade just as it darted toward his ribs.
"Rear!" he heard a shout. "Rear!"
There was another flash of blue light as lightning cut through the Roman ranks. Four of them fell, two dying instantly.
Thanas took advantage of the panic and began swinging. He was using a technique he'd learned from Percy to incapacitate the Romans without killing them. They would be hard-pressed to keep a Roman alive if they had a bad cut across their chest or abdomen. Blades to the wrists or necks were a no-go. He wasn't perfect at it, but he'd trained hard for moments like this.
He slashed and cut through the Romans as Leon and Xanthe closed in from the rear. Six of his nine Persian warriors had been reduced to piles of bones, but less than ten Romans remained able-bodied. Leon and Xanthe coming in didn't help them. Leon was like a wrecking ball. He was tall and powerful and wild, forcing the Romans back with his electric touch. Xanthe came in waves. She would duck away to recover, letting Leon continue pressing forward, before charging in for a moment to relieve him of the pressure and slamming into the Romans with full force.
Within moments, the Romans were defeated. No one was able to flee or escape. The last four dropped their weapons and surrendered.
Thanas counted the bodies: five dead, eleven unconscious, and four conscious.
"Who's the leader?" he asked the conscious Romans.
One of them pointed hesitantly at one of the unconscious bodies, an older man with battle-hardened features and a badge on his chest.
Thanas nodded. That was their guy. Not that he typically trusted Romans, but he figured they were probably telling the truth. If they weren't, it was no big deal. Capturing living Romans was just a bonus. He pointed at the body. "Tie him up. Tie the ones that are still awake."
"And the unconscious ones?" Damianos asked.
Thanas met Xanthe's eyes. The daughter of Poseidon gave him a grim nod, resigned to the terror of war. Leon flashed him a reassuring smile that looked so genuine Thanas almost thought it was. Except Leon's eyes betrayed his mouth.
"I'll take care of them," he told the son of Hermes darkly. "You all head off first."
One of the conscious Romans seemed to realize what he was planning on doing and shot to his feet. "Wait, you can't!"
Immediately, Leon put him into a headlock and threw him to the ground, his body flickering with electric energy. None of the other three conscious Romans moved. Even if it was glorious to die for one's cause or nation, it took a lot of bravery to actually be willing to die in the moment. It was a form of bravery that only the very foolish and only the very exceptional could ever hope of achieving.
"My sister..." the Roman choked, his arm outstretched toward one of the fallen girls.
Thanas felt a pang of sympathy for the Roman, and he softened. He gestured toward the girl.
"Are you sure?" Xanthe asked.
He knew it could very well backfire on them, but they could afford to keep six Romans alive. Nodding, he waved them away, and the others went to work. They tied up their new captives and began the journey back to Nicaea.
Thanas stared at the bodies strewn across the ground around him. He clenched the hilt of his sword and pressed his lips together in a thin line. "I'm sorry, Irene. But it's war."
He raised his sword. Just like Percy did when they destroyed the Eleventh Legion.
The Romans in the east retreated back down toward the Syrian region. That left the unoccupied Greek forces with only one front in the war and, within a couple of months, the west, except the Spartan region, was free from any organized Roman force. The Greeks could roam the homeland, save the Peloponnese, and the northern regions without fear of being hunted down by Roman troops.
Xanthe was finally granted a break, which she'd been hoping to get ever since they returned to Constantinople from Nicaea. She was glad to spend some alone time with Leon. Though, visiting the old camp, where her mother had died, wasn't exactly a romantic getaway.
It was something she needed to do, though. Just like how Thanas had visited Percy's place in Athens the year before, marking the one-year anniversary of Ionna's death. After two years, she needed some sort of closure, though she wasn't sure if seeing her mother's body would bring it. Percy told them that he'd placed a protective magical barrier around her mother, preventing her body from rotting like a normal human corpse, waiting for the day that her daughter would return.
They climbed the slope that her mother and Leon must have run up that day. The road hadn't been maintained. All the weeds and wild shrubbery grew like mad along the path. If it hadn't been for Leon's certainty as to which direction they needed to go, she felt like she probably would've gotten lost.
A part of her dreaded the return. A part of her was hoping they would get lost. She tried to gather her resolve, but the doubt wouldn't go away. She wanted to believe she was ready. She wanted to believe that this closure would come.
But being near the camp brought good memories with the bad. She remembered all the years she'd spent here, training in hopes that one day she would be able to fight against the Romans.
We did alright, little me, she thought. We did alright.
"Around the bend," Leon said softly.
Xanthe blinked and realized she'd almost walked right off the path. She'd been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn't been paying attention to where they were walking. Correcting her path, they continued up.
Leon kept a tight hold of her hand. A part of her wondered if he was also feeling hesitant. He told her about a couple of times he and her mother met. Her mother had been one of his gateways into the Greek world, one of the certainties he could rely on. Xanthe was proud that her mother had done her best to redeem herself after abandoning Florian when he was a child. Perhaps she hadn't always acted honorably, but at least she changed. That much couldn't be said about everyone.
Then Xanthe's pride waned as she remembered the fact that she'd killed Florian, her own half-brother, a couple years ago.
They were silent as they crested the hill, finally able to overlook the old valley. Things had changed a lot since they left. Everything looked older and more worn-down. The buildings were unkempt and rotting. Weeds and moss grew around them like spider webs, wrapped around every nook and cranny, dangling from ledges and roofs.
It was sad to see her old home like this.
On the hill where they'd made their stand, they could still see some of the remnants of the Greek fire cannon they'd unleashed. The rocks from the fire pit still lay strewn on the ground, scattered from the explosion. The rocks looked unchanged. Fragmented and blown apart, but fundamentally the same. Unlike the wooden structures beside them.
Protected by a magic barrier, just as Percy told them, her mother's body lay flat on the hill. The javelins that had cut her down were organized neatly on either side of her, lying parallel from head to butt.
Leon approached first, squatting and picking up one of the Roman javelins. They'd seen many in the best couple of years during battles, but looking at them never ceased to be amazing. The long but soft iron shank was very effective against shields and armor, able to bend while lodged into enemy equipment and hamper their fighting capabilities. The iron shanks that had killed her mother weren't bent at all. Human flesh was nowhere near as strong as thick wood or metal.
"The blood was cleaned off," Leon muttered, looking at the tip of the javelin. "Percy must've also buried the dead Romans."
She looked around them. At the top of the hill, there was a small marble statue of a Roman general on horseback. The horse was rearing on its hind legs, and the general had his sword high in the air, like he was calling for a charge. For a moment, Xanthe thought it was impossible for Percy to prepare something like that in the short amount of time it took them to get to Thessalonica, but then she remembered the Infinity Pouch. She wondered if it had been his idea or Irene's to honor the dead Romans.
Her mother looked at ease. The worry lines and wrinkles had disappeared from her face, making her look almost youthful again. Her torso had been wrapped up with a cloth and must have covered all the puncture wounds from the javelins.
Xanthe slowly knelt down and unwrapped her mother's body. Leon watched her with concern but didn't say anything. He shuffled back to give her some space.
Taking a deep breath, she pulled the cloth away to reveal the wounds beneath. They were purplish, as if it hadn't been long since she died. She supposed that was what the magic was for. She'd seen bodies that had been dead for weeks, and they had been in much worse shape than her mother's body. In a way, she was glad. It gave her a chance to say goodbye. Percy must have known she would want to do this one day.
It was... anticlimactic. She expected to feel something... more.
As she stared at her mother's dead body, she neither wept nor sighed in relief. The pain of her deceased mother still lay within her heart, but it wasn't so intense that it overwhelmed her. Perhaps it was the war that had desensitized her. Perhaps being a killer, having blood on her hands, mitigated any terror of seeing her mother, who had died in a heroic attempt at saving them.
The animosity she felt toward the Romans didn't rise or jump. Was it because she already killed her mother's killer? Was it because she'd already gotten her revenge that she felt nothing?
Unlike Thanas, she hadn't been given time to grieve for her mother. She'd been thrust right into the war, right into striking back at the Eleventh Legion.
Next to her, Leon was watching her carefully. Looking at him, she felt a strong pull... a strong desire. That he was living and breathing, and could smile and laugh. His lips, which she had kissed so often in their spare time, warm and soft against her own. She could imagine their bodies, pressed up against one another. The heat that radiated from his body. His muscles pressed up against her.
Xanthe couldn't imagine how she would feel if she lost him too.
"It's been too long, hasn't it?" he said, noticing her gaze.
She nodded slowly. Looking back at her mother's body, she sighed, "I have lots of memories of her. But... they just feel so distant. Even if it's only been a few years, it feels like we've been fighting the Romans for a decade. I can't... I don't feel much different."
"Well, it's not about suddenly being sad, is it?" Leon's lips twitched, as if he was holding back a smirk. "We're already doing what she wanted. We're fighting the Romans. We're honoring her legacy."
"I killed Florian in the process," she pointed out.
He pressed his lips together. "Unfortunate, yeah. I suppose that wasn't exactly a part of her plan."
"You think?"
He laughed. "Okay, okay. I relent. So you messed up. Big time. What can you do? It's all over now. Time never flows backward."
"Chronos makes sure of that." She laid the blanket back on her mother, as if she was tucking her in for bed. "Good night, Mother. I'm... I'm sorry I didn't become powerful enough to save you. I should have worked harder."
As expected, she was met with silence, but it didn't bother her.
"It's selfish of us, but we continue to live on," she continued. "Leon... that boy we found on the road all those years ago... I fell in love with him, Mother. He's kind and funny and just makes me feel comfortable. He can be a little crazy sometimes. And he smiles and jokes around too much for his own good. Sometimes I feel like just sticking a dagger through his ribs because he gets so annoying. Like, we're fighting a fucking war and you're cracking jokes?"
"That's my job," Leon laughed again.
"But I love him, nonetheless." She grabbed his hand and smiled down at her mother's body. "I don't want to let go of his hand. I'm afraid he'll be taken away from me just like you and Florian. I'm selfish because I want to kill the Romans and continue living ourselves. But, honestly, I don't know anyone else that would think much differently. If we die... we'll die together."
"Not literally, though," he piped in.
She turned to glare at him.
"What? Tell me what the odds are of us being stabbed and killed at the exact same time."
She groaned. "Stop being annoying! I'm trying to send a special message to my mother."
"She can't hear you. At least, according to Thanas."
"Who knows?" Xanthe challenged, jutting her chin out. "Maybe Mother's ghost is just hanging around here, waiting for me to return. She could be listening in on us."
"If she is, then she'll know you're telling the truth."
"What truth?"
"That I'm annoying as shit."
Xanthe groaned again. "I hate you sometimes."
He smiled widely, flashing his slightly crooked teeth, before leaning down and kissing her gently. "I know."
A warm fuzzy feeling blossomed in her chest before a chill ran down her spine. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his, harder this time. "Gods, what crazy magic are you using on me?"
"I'm sure Sophia would have known," he said, gesturing to her mother.
"I'm sure she would have," she agreed.
The two of them gave her mother another prayer before moving to bury her in the graveyard. While the Athenians had all been cremated, the majority of demigods didn't hail from the large city and were buried instead. There had been a few deaths in the years she'd been at camp, though they were relatively few in number compared to the death count they'd encountered during the war.
"We may not be destined for greatness," Leon said after they finished. "But at least we've lived life. We've tried to live as best as we could, given our circumstances. Your mom, at least, can respect that."
Xanthe leaned her head on his shoulder. "I hope so. It's definitely not going to get any easier."
She didn't know what the future had in store for them, but she would do her best to fight. If they had to die, they would die. If they were meant to live, they would live. All she wanted, in the present, was to enjoy the free time she had with Leon. She didn't know when it would all come crashing down, when any semblance of a normal life would cease to exist. Because, if she didn't take the time to appreciate what she still had, she would end up like Percy. Lost and trapped inside her own mind, unable to realize that the one she needed was standing right beside her.
Someone behind them cleared their throat.
The two of them whirled around, coming face to face with a very familiar-looking goddess.
"Welcome," she said, raising one of her torches. The world seemed to dissolve around them, Mist swirling and seeping up from the ground.
She and Leon couldn't help but stare at the goddess, who placed her torches down into a brazier made of Mist and produced two vials out of thin air.
"You are the chosen ones. It is time for you to face your final crossroads."