The Crowned Creature

Estelle was devastated ever since her brother had left. Thalia could tell as days passed without any news from the three wandering demigods that were off to deal with a rogue goddess of memory in the Underworld.

Thalia averted her gaze from the wooden table where her arms were elegantly propped upon. Instead, she raised her eyes to meet Estelle's weary ones.

"You have to eat, y'know. I don't think Percy would be pleased if he came back to find you starved," she said quietly, glad that her words were swallowed by the continuous chatter from the campers in the Dining Pavilion.

Thalia held her breath when Estelle shifted on the wooden bench, twirling her fork in her nimble hands before stabbing it into a tidbit of fried eggs.

"What if they doesn't come back? What if he don't come back?" the brunette mumbled in the same quiet tone the hunter had used, lifting the forkful of delicacy to her mouth and nibbling at it.

At least she's eating, thought Thalia.

The daughter of Zeus could feel the sympathetic stares she got from the other Hunters. Ever since Percy had left with Faith and Annabeth, Thalia had unofficially became Estelle's guardian. It was now her responsibility that Estelle was to remain unharmed while her brother was off to save the damn world.

"You've asked that for the fifth time today, and breakfast had barely begun." Thalia was opting for a light teasing tone, but it she recoiled a little when she received an icy glare from the younger.

Thalia tried again. "They'll be fine. He'd been in worse situations before, and still managed to survive. This quest is a piece of cake for them."

Estelle gave her a close-lipped smile that looked more like a wince instead.

Thalia moved on with her breakfast, frowning at it. She was in no mood to eat at all. An elbow nudged her arm gently, but Thalia didn't move her dipped head; she simply brought her gaze to Phoebe with slight annoyance. "Yes?"

"The news. It spread to the campers." Thalia was even more perplexed when Phoebe droned on, "Chiron thought they deserved to know."

Thalia blinked, trying to process and make sense of what she was telling her. "What are you on about?" she blurted, aware of the way how Estelle gingerly leaned closer in on their conversation for a chance to eavesdrop.

Phoebe shot the daughter of Zeus a look. "The campers. Chiron had told your brother, Jason, about Jackson's quest to seek Lady Aphorei. Apparently, it spread to the campers—everyone knows now, I think."

Estelle's shoulders visibly drooped. Everyone in the Hunt had been aware of Percy's journey with Faith and Annabeth, so she was undoubtedly disappointed in having no other news of what may have happened to her half-brother so far.

"And?" pressed Thalia, biting her lip at the mention of her brother. She knew they needed to talk; she was missing his company ever since she snapped at him long ago. "Did the campers believe all that, though? Did Chiron explain why Perce, Annabeth and Faith were going there?"

Both Artemis and the hunters knew everything, courtesy of Thalia a few days back—from the campers' sudden memory loss to the threat Lady Aphorei may give, if they dared act foolish. What they didn't know about was the Book of Fyrmarcs in her possession.

Yesterday though, Caille—a hunter—had come to Thalia to clarify her theory about who may have stolen (well, that's what the hunters thought) the Book. Thalia had discreetly went red-faced when Caille mentioned how Annabeth may have been involved in its disappearance.

Phoebe pushed her plate away as she contemplated her answer. "I'm not sure if anyone knows exactly what the point of the quest is," the hunter admitted. "But, I think your brother's friends may have an idea. I've overheard from somebody—" Spying, mused Thalia. "—that when Jackson left camp, Chase went on some mental panic attack."

Thalia held her breath, imagining what it must've been like. She hesitantly beckoned for the hunter to continue.

"At the time, Annabeth had been furious at her friends because they didn't have a clue as to who Lloyd was. I think Jason put two and two together and realised that Annabeth, Jackson, and Faith intended to make Lady Aphorei return their lost memories back."

Thalia grew silent, suddenly remembering that they were surrounded by many others that could hear in on their conversation anytime. But then again, what would be the problem if others knew anyway?

Then, it struck her. "I think it's better that the others don't know," she whispered, edging nearer Phoebe. "If they did . . . well, the risks are high. Not only would the campers lose their mind from the insanity of it all, but the news that everyone realised their memories have been erased would eventually reach Lady Aphorei, and—"

"She might pose a greater threat this time," finished Phoebe, looking solemn as a loud sigh escaped her throat. "If Lady Aphorei learned the fact that everyone knew her plan to make the campers forget Lloyd, she'd probably grow frustrated and give us more amnesiac campers to deal with."

"Exactly." The terrifying truth was there—laid out bare for the both of them. Aphorei was one hell of a force to be reckoned with.

The sound of shuffling footsteps and arising voices talking all at once rang in their ears before Thalia realised breakfast was over. The hunters neatly stood with spiritless quiet, unlike the noisy campers. They separated in groups of threes and fours, off to do ominous activities to ease the boredom that crept up their backs.

Thalia, on the other hand, had something else entirely different to do.

Before she could slip away, Estelle called out to her, "Where are you going? Can I come with you? The cabin's boring without the others. I feel way too alone."

The daughter of Zeus winced inwardly, not bothering to meet the younger in the eyes. Instead, she was searching desperately for a particular son of Hades. Thalia had been too immersed in something else entirely to acknowledge Nico's existence in the Dining Pavilion. Had he even been there, or was Thalia too distracted to notice him?

"Thals?" Estelle spoke up once more as her cunning white-furred wolf circled them both.

Thalia became awfully fidgety as she felt herself vulnerable under Aegeus's stare. It had been the same stare it'd given her when it was trying to uncover of who had broke their window in the cabin. "Er—why don't you tend to Aegeus for a while? I'm gonna go practice in the Archery."

Estelle appeared to be uncertain for several moments before piping up, "I'll go with you there, then. Aegeus doesn't need a babysitter—he likes to roam the camp." The younger looked awfully determined to go along with her as she smoothly bent down, offering a few mild scratches to the sensitive area just behind the wolf's ears.

Thalia didn't miss it; she had went through enough ruthless training to pay attention to even the tiniest of things. A glow of wild red caught her eye as it brushed over Estelle's fingertips. In almost an instant, it was gone when the brunette let go and the wolf's fur concealed it from sight.

"You're going to behave while I'm gone," Estelle told the wolf, adjusting the folds of her patterned top. The longer they stood there in the midst of wandering campers, the more stares they got.

Thalia couldn't help it. "What's that on Aegeus's forehead?"

Estelle's reaction was instantaneous. Her smile dropped, taking a step back. "Wha—what? What're you on about?"

Thalia saw through the lie. She ushered the white wolf to trudge towards her, its movements gentle and proper with its head held high. She bent her knees low, running her hand over Aegeus's tender fur that could have possibly become whiter under the sunlight.

And—there it was. The very same flaming red that Thalia had seen earlier. The alight crimson seeped through very thin curves that formed a circle, with lines criss-crossing in an odd style.

"A Fyrmarc," mumbled Thalia, hoping she wasn't seeing what she thought she was seeing. She turned her head sharply to send a look of accusation at Estelle. "You knew about this."

"I—what? I saw it last time, but I wasn't sure be—"

"Not here." The hunter made a grab for the younger's arm, loosening her rough grip when they reached a more quieter area near the calming waters of the Canoe Lake, where campers were unlikely to stroll by. Aegeus had followed almost instinctively, settling into a composed position by them with one ear perked up.

Thalia did a quick scan around them for any unwanted visitors before facing Estelle once more. "No one goes around talking about—" she lowered her voice to a soft whisper. "—Fyrmarcs out in the open. Even if the damning gods are in lockdown, they could still very well give us a one-way free ticket to the Underworld."

"Underworld? Fyrmarcs? What's that?"

"I—never mind." Thalia felt terribly anxious, her eyes darting about in hopes that no one was around. "When did you first realise there was . . . there was that symbol on Aegeus? Did you put it there or something? Why didn't you tell anybody?"

If possible, Estelle had positively turned paler—either from Thalia's abrupt bombarding of questions that most likely didn't make sense to her, or from the livid look of both exasperation and temper in her eyes.

Aegeus must've sensed the Estelle's discomfort as it prowled towards her with a protector's grace. A warrior's grace. "I swear I didn't put that thing on Aegeus! I didn't do anything! It was already there when I saw it last month . . ." The younger avoided the hunter's stern gaze. ". . . and I'm sorry for not telling you sooner. I saw it in my dreams and I thought it was just a coincidence."

Thalia inhaled sharply, letting her clenched fists loosen up and unravel themselves. It wasn't Estelle's fault, no . . . but she should've told them from the start. She remembered when there had been a Fyrmarc on the ground the time they went hunting for a Boar, looking as if it had been carved.

Was it normal for Fyrmarcs to just . . . appear in the most unusual of places? Was it supposed to mean anything? Maybe a message or a warning?

"Nothing's a coincidence in the Greek world," murmured Thalia, watching as Estelle nervously picked and scratched on the nape of her neck. She remembered when Percy would do the same back then whenever he was fidgety—when they had all been no more but stubborn thirteen year-olds.

A curling tail coiled around Thalia's ankle before whipping up. Aegeus appeared to be growing more impatient as time passed. Thalia's eyes darted from tree to tree, then to the younger.

"Go back to the cabin," ordered Thalia, avoiding the confused look she received in return. "Don't go anywhere else, all right? I'm pretty sure a hunter or two would be in there." She saw how Estelle's mouth opened to argue, but the hunter raised a hand. "Make sure you're not alone. If you see any more of these symbols, tell me. If you see anything that looks odd—"

"I'll tell you," finished Estelle, rubbing circles in her pinkish palm restlessly. "But why? No one's telling me anything, even the Hunters! And don't you even dare say I'm too young to know, because I've seen worse already."

The way her voice cracked at the end reminded Thalia of what had happened to the younger's parents. Murdered. "I'll tell you next time," she whispered hurriedly, a wave of guilt washing over her. "I promise. Please just go and do as I say."

Estelle grimaced at her, nodding tightly. Thalia had gingerly offered to walk her back with the white-furred creature in tow. Leaving the brunette with Caille inside the eerily quiet cabin, Thalia set off to the Hades cabin with Aegeus tailing right behind her.

Luckily, no one asked any questions of where they had wandered at the time. All Thalia knew was that she needed to tell Nico of this . . . Fyrmarc carved on the damning Star-Eyed.

Walking in a slight steadier pace to the dark and gloomy cabin of Hades, Thalia found herself glaring at Aegeus. There had been a line in the Great Prophecy, referring to a particular creature—

Find the crowned creature for it will know the fate of the destined wielder, a whisper voiced out in her head. The last line of the Great Prophecy. Crowned creature. How could she have been so daft—the crowned creature was . . .

Aegeus. Aegeus had known it was her when the hunters came across that broken window in their cabin. The very same window she had used to break in. Aegeus had seen what she had hidden under her bunker, the Book that held the potential to create and to destroy.

The thought alone of somebody wielding such power made her shiver.

"Solace," greeted Thalia, stepping up on the front porch of the Hades cabin as she spotted the familiar shaggy blond hair approaching her. Fiancé, she mused. Nico's fiancé.

Will nervously shifted his weight from foot to foot, fondling his pockets. "I, Ni—sorry, was I disturbing you?"

Thalia didn't miss the ruby that was encrusted on a band of silver gleaming on his ring finger. The poor son of Apollo looked so upset that she simply waved a hand, gesturing for him to go on.

"Have you seen Nico anywhere? I—well, two days ago, he said he wasn't going to be around all that much, but he hasn't come back yet until now. I kept checking in on his cabin from time to time, because he likes to stay in bed for ho—" Will turned a brilliant shade of red. "Never mind. I, er, just thought that maybe he already came back without telling me."

Thalia felt like she'd just been slapped in the face. She knit her brows lowly, staring at him to see if he was joking or not. She blanched when she realised he wasn't. She started nervously, "Nico's a busy demigod. He's probably helping Hades deal with the ghosts of the Underworld and all that."

Before Will could argue back, Thalia pushed the ruddy door open with no such gentleness, and—

"He's not back yet, is he?" the son of Apollo whispered in a tiny voice as Aegeus trudged inside the darkening room, its shining coat of white swallowed by the greys and blacks of the shadows.

When Thalia furiously flipped the blankets on Nico's four poster bed in hopes of finding his body on it, Will murmured, "He's not there. Everything in this cabin has been in the same order since he'd left. Nee—Nico didn't tell me anything of what he really planned to do."

Thalia sent an accusatory look at Will for letting Nico go so easily as her thoughts whizzed past—so many possibilities; so many questions that needed to be answered. "Did he at least say where he was going?"

Will's eyes—a stunning blue that was usually bright—were glossed. Crystal clear. "I don't know. He didn't tell me."

*.·:·. ✧ ✦ ✧ .·:·.*

You're safe, that sweet honeyed voice lulled him over, you're safe, Prince. You've made the right choice.

Nico wasn't safe. He didn't make the right choice—yet, was he even given a choice in the first place? He vividly remembered how Aphorei ambushed their dark realm, the Underworld. Powerful gods always had a match—a match to stop them from causing too much damage against the mortal and Greek world.

Aphorei's match was Hades. Nico had said it loud and clear to Percy with words that simply he twisted and turned. He knew the she-devil goddess wouldn't forgive him if he just outright spoke of it aloud. Death and memory lie in the same dimension.

Death and memory were equals.

The god of the Underworld had always had Aphorei under control. She could erase memories here and there, but Hades would take away a part of her soul every time she did it. It was a bestowed curse that the goddess had most likely learned how to live with.

And so, the Aphorei had remained silent from the rest of the world for a long time—almost nobody knew who she was, and what she was capable of.

She was afraid of having her soul ripped to more and more pieces.

Everything went berserk when the gods have gone in hiding from fear of another great war. When the gods have taken Hades back in Olympus for his own good, they were unaware of Aphorei. They were unaware that when Hades had left his realm, Aphorei was free to do whatever she wished—the only cost were long rests when she needed time to regain her strength.

Nico shuddered, the goddess's face that was taking the form of a delighted sneer clouding his head.

His body never felt more exhausted—he'd never been in so much agony before. Tears prickled in the corners of his eyes, but he refused to let them fall as he dug his nails deeper into his forearm.

Nico was alive, but he didn't want to be.

He sat in one of the familiar rooms he'd never been before in the Underworld, staring at the floor. Nico hadn't been looking to where he was going after the unpleasant visit he had with Ouranus.

No. Not Ouranus. It was as if Nico was talking to a corpse, a ghost. A ghost that had so little life, but it had the chance to reawaken. Nico had said oaths that bound him to the Dark, like some sort of pathetic follower. He was a traitor, a liar, and a soon-to-be murderer.

Will would hate him, just as much as he hated himself—and that was a terrifying thought.

Nico broke down. Something he'd never done before.

Violent sobs, shrill screams, and brutal shaking. He was glad no one was listening to his cries. Traitor. He was a traitor. Everything he had with Will was gone, and it was all Nico's fault. He wouldn't be able to fight back anymore, not when the magic from the Mark bound him to the Dark. To the enemy. To Ouranus.

Nico couldn't help it as he took in a ragged breath, letting his gaze drop to his forearm that was sculpted with an onyx black with rosy swills sapping from its edges. He had bled when he was Marked. It had been the most excruciating torture he'd ever gone through.

When his Mark opened an eye, all hope of winning the war faded into nothing but despair.

*.·:·. ✧ ✦ ✧ .·:·.*

Malcolm was getting irritated at her, and she was more than pleased despite her dreadful situation at the moment.

Annabeth leaned her back on the ridged walls, blatantly refusing to take a seat near him. She managed a dry chuckle. "I told you already. I won't help you." As if she ever would.

The son of Athena met her eyes. "I'm being generous, you know. I could make you tell me what I want you to tell me. I've learnt a lot here, from poisons to torture. Be glad I'm not using them on you." There was an eerie look of determination in his face that made her shiver inwardly.

Annabeth subtly assessed the glinting weapons hanging by his cloaked waist before mocking him in a derisive tone, "Oh, of course! I'm so glad to be here—this place is exactly what I've been imagining as my dream paradise! By the way, where's your friend? You know, the other traitor—"

"You don't know anything, so I suggest you shut up before I knock you out again," growled Malcolm piercingly, his voice strong and unwavering as he slammed the Book close with a heavy thud that echoed in their ears.

Annabeth didn't flinch, keeping her smarmy lying smile on her face. "No thanks. I know Neeks is being Marked at the moment as we speak. Do tell me more about this little Mark thing, and maybe I'd tell you a thing or two about Fyrmarcs and the Great Prophecy."

She had no idea what being Marked meant at all, but she gathered enough from their reactions awhile ago upon hearing the word 'Marked.' Annabeth had seen their unmasked terror.

The blond unknowingly rubbed his forearm with his thumb, yet his cold stare remained glued on her. She expected a snide remark, but instead he said in a flat tone, "You have no idea how much I want to tell you of what Nico and I really intend to do, and I'm sure there'll be a time when you'll understand everything. Now is not the time when anyone could hear us."

Annabeth trembled; not from fear, no. It was the same rage that had ignited from the depths of her soul when she saw Malcolm as a traitor, not a half-brother. "I never knew you'd stoop so low to the point you'd begin lying to me, Malcolm. But I think you've gotten quite used to it, haven't you?"

She wasn't sure if that flare of hurt that shone in his eyes was real. He could've been acting.

To her surprise—though she didn't show it—Malcolm calmly ran his hands over the unkempt leather cover of the Book of Fyrmarcs, turning his back on her. He carried it under one arm with a delicate ivory dagger in the other as he studied the looming shadows.

Annabeth scowled, knowing he was about to shadow travel to some place only the gods knew where. "Where are you—"

She protested indignantly as a shimmer of sheen silver flashed from Malcolm's hand, cutting through the air with a clean slice. Due to her fighting reflexes, she was able to swiftly catch the dagger without stumbling one bit. Confusion, anger, and disbelief flickered all at once.

Malcolm didn't turn, stepping one foot closer to the murky gloom of the shadows. Annabeth swore she saw a sad smile. "Use it well," he whispered, dissipating into a dark hazy gloom.

Only when she was alone, Annabeth realised it was her dagger that he'd thrown at her.

*.·:·. ✧ ✦ ✧ .·:·.*

They have gone over their plan twenty times before they entered the Underworld.

Since Percy had experience, Faith had an advantage with a bow, and Lucius was on their side—it wasn't all that hard to formulate a plan, really.

Faith knew the stakes, and what may go wrong once they entered the Underworld. She wasn't going to screw it up, even if her memory was erased along the way. She had gone over it already—she willed herself to never acknowledge her fears.

She needed to be strong for herself.

"I'm here," murmured Percy, noticing her obvious discomfort. She felt as if she couldn't breathe right. "You'll be fine. I won't let anything happen to you."

I'll be fine, she chanted in her head. I'll be fine.

Faith hoped she spoke true as she raised her chin and held her head high, staring at a tall man that gave them a rueful eye. Charon, the Spirit of Boundaries and Territories. Charon, the ferryman that guided dead spirits into the Underworld.

"Hello, Charon."