Harsh Truths

A moment ago, a burst of intense gold from the skies was all Annabeth could remember. She remembered coils of purple too, entwining with her locks of hair and glowing brighter than ever as vivid moments of her life flashed before her eyes.

And now, she really didn't know where she was and why there was a loud thumping noise circling her head. Her senses awoke, and everything seemed to register in her mind for once; the scent of purifiers, the ear-splitting sound of scraping metal that soon faded into shuffling feet, and the warm caress of a pillow against her cheek.

Annabeth tried shuffling around a bit, her eyes still shut. She heard someone hissing to her left, followed by an exasperated huff and low mumbling.

"—to be a bit careful! Honestly, what healer doesn't know about the median nerve?" Faith. That was definitely Faith, because no other sane human being could reach a high-pitched level of whining like that.

"Median nerve? Is that, like, the long vertical line with zero degrees?" Annabeth wanted to scoff aloud; of course Percy would think that the median nerve was the prime meridian.

As if Faith had heard her, the hunter yelped shrilly. "No, you buffoon! That's the prime meridian!" Knew it, thought Annabeth. "How did you even—"

The daughter of Athena shifted, realising her mistake only a second later when a loud noise came from her bed. The two had stopped squabbling like children almost immediately, and she swore she could hear them turn their heads at her.

She blinked her eyes open, groaning in dismay at the brilliant honey light from a lamp hanging aloft in the room she were in. She recognised Faith to her left, and Percy in the other far left. They didn't look too good, either; Annabeth could see that some slashes in their bodies were stitched, and she knew it was so because even ambrosia couldn't heal something that wretched.

There were only the three demigods being taken care of, she realised. There were a fair amount of healers striding about, putting back bottles into shelves and pulling metal carts away. Other than that, the Infirmary looked strangely . . . organised. But it was too empty, as if . . . they cleaned up right after a disaster occurred.

"Chase?" Annabeth sat up straight, ignoring the call of her name. She saw blobs of white dance in her vision. "Your head's gonna hurt real bad if you don't lay back down."

So she did. Annabeth resigned to her body's wishes, ignoring the rising panic that swelled in her chest. She didn't close her eyes though, no matter how much she wanted to.

"Are you all right?" she heard Faith ask quietly, as if she hadn't wanted to be heard. Annabeth tilted her head to the side gently, letting her gaze set on the hunter before nodding stiffly.

"Do you remember anything? After the war? Me?"

Annabeth considered this for a moment; why would they be asking her about that? She saw it, then—the tiniest brush of the hunter's delicate hand against Percy's. Something had happened, and it must've been bad.

Annabeth felt heat spread when she realised she didn't answer the other long enough for it to be awkward. Swallowing, she mumbled, "Yeah, but . . ." she saw the looks of worry contorting on their faces. "Why are you asking me this? You're . . . you're Faith, aren't you? Egotistical twat that promised to curse me if I so much as dare to got a raw piece of meat near her?"

Faith whooped, the ghost of a grin pulling at the corners of her lips. She didn't even look offended in the slightest. "Thank the Fates, she remembers me."

"What?" said Annabeth, really starting to get worried this time. "What do you mean, I remember you? Did I . . ." It was horrifyingly slow, as if the world wanted her to register the dreadful truth.

When she glanced at the two, Annabeth knew she was right. "I got hit?" It sounded so ridiculous to her own ears. "My—my memory was erased? How did—"

"I used the Fyrmarcs," said Percy quietly; it was the first time he'd finally spoken to her. Annabeth felt guilt overwhelm her senses because gods, she couldn't imagine what Percy must've felt, having to deal with her, when she was out of her mind thinking that he was her lover—

"He really was great, you know," said Faith, and Annabeth couldn't be any more glad that the hunter was diverting their conversation to something else; even if she wasn't being fairly subtle about it. "The way Jackson controlled the Fyrmarcs. You should've seen—"

"You're awake!" piped up a healer, her voice sounding fairly familiar from somewhere. She hurried over to the daughter of Athena's side, pressing a cool hand to Annabeth's sweltering forehead. A rush of tingling warmth danced on her skin, getting rid of her pounding headache without much trouble.

Suddenly, something in Annabeth's head clicked. "Oh my gods!" she swore, now staring at a bemused Percy with wide eyes and completely ignoring a protesting Kayla. "You're the Wielder?"

The son of Poseidon smiled, but it was almost pitiful. "I was waiting for you to figure that out. But seriously, no one should even be surprised anymore."

I'm always chosen, she could almost hear from his lips.

Faith's eyes, which have been filled with delight earlier, were now boring into Kayla's bell-blue ones. "Can we go now, then? Now that we're all patched up?"

"I'm afraid not," stated the healer matter-of-factly, seeming to revel in Faith's admonished look.

Percy tried on his pleading face, one that Annabeth knew always worked against the laws of the gods. "But we're all fine now! We really need to talk—"

"No," said Kayla again, this time more sternly. Annabeth visibly winced, mouthing a silent howl of pain as the healer patted her arm.

Annabeth hadn't noticed it, but her arm looked terrible; almost entrancing, in a grotesque way. It was faint, but she remembered ripping her skin with a sharp edge of a steel cart when she'd been out of herself, trying to escape the Infirmary.

Her lower arm not only sent electrocuting volts through her body every time she tried to move it, but it also looked somewhat . . . startling. It was a wide open slash, and it was no wonder the healers didn't dare try to stitch it. One simple mistake of delving a needle too deep through flesh could end up disastrous and excruciatingly painful.

"I'll be fine," Annabeth declared, not knowing what exactly made her say it. Kayla looked unimpressed. "I promise. It's just a cut, that's all." The daughter of Athena couldn't really say the gash was small—it almost circled her whole arm, like a thick circlet of pure blood-red.

Annabeth knew she was fighting a losing battle when even a look of remorse shifted on Faith's face. She's forgotten that the hunter was a healer, too, and she most likely knew she was in pain right now even if Annabeth would much rather get strangled by a Dracaena than admit it out loud.

"Sorry, Chase, but it really does look terrible," admitted Faith. "That'll have to wait out for a few days until all you need is ambrosia to heal it. Walking around the camp with that can get you an infection."

"I thought you said we needed to ta—"

"Never mind that," the hunter interrupted, her voice tinged with a promise. "Jackson and I can wait."

"All right." Annabeth tried not to roll her eyes at the hunter, graciously taking the cube of ambrosia Kayla handed her with a reassuring nudge. "But you don't have to wait for me here. You can go visit the hunters; it's been a long time you haven't seen them. I'll rest here."

Faith threw Percy a questioning look, receiving a derisive nod back. Kayla granted them a brief farewell, which the hunter took with a thin-lipped grimace. Annabeth watched the two healers exchange the quickest thanks under their breaths; the situation couldn't have been more awkward.

"I pity him, you know," said Kayla conversationally, once Percy and Faith left.

"Yeah," whispered Annabeth, chewing on the ambrosia a bit too harshly. "I know what you mean. Percy's been through a lot."

"The hunter's a flamboyant one, I must admit." Kayla dabbed at the wound with a dollop of mousy paste, unaware of the blonde's wrinkled nose of disgust. "I think she could be good for him. I hope she does consider leaving the Hunt one day."

"You can do that? Leave the Hunt?" Annabeth could remember that in the old Greek myths, the only reason the hunters of Artemis left the Hunt was because the moon goddess demanded it so—usually just because the girls found ways to break their maiden oath.

But she'd never heard of a hunter . . . willingly leaving the Hunt with Artemis's permission. But then again, Annabeth might be underestimating the goddess too soon.

Kayla stared at her, a puerile twinkle in her eye. Annabeth could see she was fighting back a smile. "I know a daughter of Apollo who's been a hunter before." This time, she saw the daughter of Athena's rising curiosity. "She never broke the hunters' oath. She simply asked Lady Artemis if she could leave the Hunt."

"And she was allowed to? Just like that?"

Kayla nodded, giving Annabeth's leg one more pat. "Just like that." And with those final words, Annabeth watched the healer leave as the silence sang a lullaby, drowning her world in pitch darkness.

*.·:·. ✧ ✦ ✧ .·:·.*

"What, no hugs for me?" said Percy jokingly, spreading his arms wide for a few amused hunters to take after they so gingerly embraced Faith and welcomed them back. They hadn't had the chance to have this moment earlier when they dropped off Lucius in the Artemis cabin since they were all in such a hurry.

Phoebe did not look impressed, but she did offer him a challenging smirk. Percy supposed it was enough when she shook his hand instead, muttering something that involved a heartfelt thanks and an insult that made him choke on air.

Thalia chortled, grinning from ear to ear. "Don't take it seriously, fish face. What I'm curious about though what happened in the Infir—hey! Watch it!"

Lucius bellowed a deep rumble, but the hunters didn't seem to show any sign of being afraid of the wyvern. Yet every so often, Percy would catch them subtly ducking away or moving aside whenever the beast felt like stretching its fine wings of black.

Faith cooed, scratching a spot just below the wyvern's veined neck. "Relax, you guys. It's not like Lucy's gonna harm you. He's perfectly safe to be around." Lucius might've let out a sound between a rasp or a purr; none of them could tell.

"Perfectly safe, eh?" Percy laughed out loud, "weren't you the one who said on the quest that we couldn't trust this . . ." he splayed his hands, gesturing to all of Lucius. "What did you call him? A bloodthirsty brute?"

The hunters waited for a reaction from the mighty beast, but Lucius wasn't listening; he was too busy purring over Faith's calming ministrations. That was when they decidedly broke into a case of sniggers, drowning Faith's muttered 'I did not!' as she cast Percy a glare.

Even Estelle cracked a smile; she was not too far from the laughing group. She was handling Aegeus, and it took some while for Percy to remember that the wolf was a god in its true human form.

"So . . . how's Lady Artemis been doing lately?" Percy asked, settling the hunters to near silence.

A pristine-haired hunter, Caille, answered in a monotone. "She sometimes sends us Iris Messages, but they're very short." Percy felt something drop to his feet; he, admittedly, missed the goddess. He wanted to tell her how they got home alive and well, and how they were safe. "She warned us never to call for her because the Olympians were being very cautious up there in Olympus, watching her every move."

The good mood they were all in died down, and Percy suddenly wished he hadn't spoken at all. Even Faith fell silent, stroking Lucius's mane. Thalia was the one who teared the silence, asking carefully, "So . . . what happened in the Infirmary?"

Faith muttered something, making Lucius dip his head down. She raised an eyebrow at Percy, as if asking for permission, and all he could do was nod. He hadn't seen the hunters trade equally-mystified stares at each other, curious as to how close the two had gotten over just one quest.

And so Percy told them. He didn't really specify anything; he didn't tell them that Annabeth only remembered until the war with Gaea, either. When Faith kept silent, tending to Lucius every so often and casting him encouraging nods, he was more than grateful.

"We thought that maybe Annabeth would know some answers to help clear things up a bit," confessed Percy. He hesitantly sat down on his own bunker, which had been all messed up ever since he left for the quest. "But for now, we think she needs some rest."

"You cured her memory?" queried Estelle, her voice cutting through the thick air. Percy felt a tad bit guilty for not acknowledging her presence as he bobbed his head in agreement. "Why can't you do it for the rest of the camp, then?"

"Rest of the . . ." Percy paused, his eyes narrowing to Thalia accusingly. "How does she know about the big amnesia epidemic thing?"

Thalia raised her hands to her head petulantly. "It wasn't me, I swear! Chiron told my—told Jason about your quest to the Underworld. Someone overheard or something, then it spread to the whole camp. They either think the rumor's not true or you're just losing your mind."

"I don't—I'm not—" He was fed up, spreading out his arms to show just how exactly irked he was. "I barely summoned that Fyrmarc in the Infirmary—how could I possibly summon a few billion more just to take back everyone's memory one by one?"

Even Faith looked stump; he felt at fault for depending on the hunter way too much. There was no way Percy was going to have to cast about—about what, five hundred Fyrmarcs for all five hundred half-bloods?

Percy found himself staring at Aegeus's alabaster fur. Chaos. Surely the god knew the answer—

"Can't you summon one of those marks that'll cure everyone's memories?" suggested Estelle again, and Percy was practically close enough to crying. He didn't think he could do that; no, he knew he couldn't do that. He didn't even know if such a thing was possible.

Faith seemed to read his mind just by looking at his distressed face. Lucius let out a long, groveling whine from the loss of contact.

"You could do it," she said upliftingly, and he knew she was trying for him too. Faith angled her head towards Thalia, giving her a benign bob of her head. "You have the Book of Fyrmarcs, don't you, Thals? Maybe that can help you, Percy."

Oh my gods, he let out an inhumane screech in the back of his mind, hoping that he was wearing a straight face. She called me 'Percy' again without even noticing. How in Poseidon's horses is she not noticing?

"Er," blurted Percy, a heated pink already making its way from his neck to the tip of his ears when he realised they were looking at him for an answer. "Yeah. I think that can work. We'll visit the—"

Thalia and Faith hissed at him.

"What?" he asked confusedly. "We're just going to visit the—"

"Jackson, no one else is supposed to know!" said Faith exasperatedly, and Percy couldn't help but be a little disappointed at the use of his surname. "Remember you were the one who said we had to take the extra precautions about the Book's whereabouts?"

"I did?" blurted Percy, knitting his eyebrows together. "Oh. Um, okay. Do you wanna go with us to the Bi—"

"PERCY!" Thalia had shrieked, and this time Phoebe actually collapsed into boisterous laughter. If possible, the son of Poseidon realised his mistake again as he turned positively redder. "We told you not to mention the—the place!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Percy ducked when the daughter of Zeus tried throw a pillow at him. "Wanna go with us, Faith?"

Before the healer could answer, Phoebe slung her shoulder over Faith's slim body. The poor brunette stumbled, yelping as she stepped on one of Lucius's arched claws. The wyvern didn't so much as blink; it's unearthly yellow gaze fixing on Aegeus's star-filled ones.

"Oi, she's not going anywhere," Phoebe pretty much announced. "We missed Madam Karate-Meme's company around here. She spent her bonding time with you already, Jackson; can't we have her for one afternoon?"

Faith rolled her eyes at the ginger-haired hunter. "It's Kataramenos, idiot. Repeat after me; Katara. Menos."

"Why does your last name gotta be so long, anyway?"

"My surname was originally Katara," Faith said, waving Phoebe off when she tried to stroke Lucius' spiked tail. "Father just told me to add the Menos at the end. He said it'd eventually mean something in the future, but I don't know what. At some point of time, I got used to introducing myself as Kataramenos over the years."

Thalia snorted. "Makes sense why Daehros would do that. Your name is in the Book of Fyrmarcs, remember?"

It was not only Percy who whipped his head to the daughter of Zeus in disbelief. Faith did too, and the so many others that had heard her. "You didn't tell me that!" cried Faith shrilly. "Since when was my name written on there?"

Thalia's mouth slowly formed an O-shape; if it was any possible, her eyes marginally went larger than normal. "I thought you knew."

"Well, now I do!" Faith shot back, before appropriately sighing into her hands. "Sorry, Phoebe. I'm gonna have to go with them and see what's this all about."

Percy knew he definitely deserved the flipped middle finger that Phoebe threw his way. Nonetheless, the ginger-haired hunter bid them a hasty 'see you later, dimwits' before proceeding to shove them out of the cabin.

"Hey!" shouted Percy, pushing the door open with one hand before it could slam in front of his face. "Take care of Lucius, yeah?"

He didn't know what he was expecting. He thought that either the door would close into his hand and permanently scar it, or maybe Phoebe would shout back at him as equally as loud. All Percy knew was he certainly wasn't expecting a particular muscled wyvern to lunge at him.

He groaned achingly as his head hit the crumbled stone grounds, swearing and cursing loudly as Lucius got off of him with a flair of grace. Percy could hear Thalia's choked laughter, and the familiar swishing sound of metal cutting through air.

He saw a few campers nearby with their weapons of choice in their hands, looking terrified out of their minds when their eyes landed on the gallivanting wyvern.

"Are you sure that's a monster?" Percy didn't know how Estelle got there, but he definitely didn't mind. The youngling's eyes were brimful with awe. "He looks very . . . pretty."

Percy got up from the ground hastily, slapping Thalia in the arm as the daughter of Zeus wheezed on air. He faced his half-sister with a reassuring smile. "Lucius might be pretty—ow, Thalia!—but he can also be very dangerous. Like Faith, for example—fuck!" Percy rubbed the spot where Faith hit him. "See what I mean?"

Estelle scrunched up her nose at him. "But he's pretty. Can I ride him?" Percy looked way too horrified to even bother replying. "Please? Aegeus will protect me!"

Before he could go make a whole inspiring speech about how pretty things like Lucius can also cut your head cleanly off your shoulders without hesitation, Phoebe patted Estelle on the shoulder bemusedly, saying, "Your sister's a brave one, Jackson. Don't you worry, us hunters will look out for her when she decides to ride that one hell of a beast."

"No one is riding Lucius!"

At the mention of the wyvern's name, Lucius came over to their side, letting his stout wings of darkness unfurl. Percy knew his face was comically drawn with blameless horror as Estelle actually placed a firm hand on the creature's hulking snout.

"All right, enough gawking!" Faith clapped her hands, pulling Percy away with both her nimble hands on either shoulder. All three began walking away and to the direction of the Big House, much to his protests. "Elle's gonna be fine, Jackson—"

"Did you just call my sister Elle?"

Faith looked like she didn't hear him as she continued, "—Phoebe keeps her promises very well, anyway; c'mon, we still have to go to the Bi—"

"Don't say it!" exclaimed Thalia, unsuccessfully covering the healer's mouth with her hand and smacking Faith in the face instead. Percy snickered at the brunette's offended expression. "We can't say where it is!"

"Okay, okay! Hades," Faith swore under her breath, "that really hurt, Thals."

Percy resignedly held his chin up, daring for the other campers to speak up to him as all three of them made their way to the very borders of the camp, trying not to inflict too much attention on themselves and give away the Book's pinpoint location.

"Couldn't we just have, like, I don't know . . ." Percy made random hand gestures, attempting to make himself clear. "Gone straight to the Big House?"

The exasperated looks the two hunters threw him could've been funny, if looks didn't kill. Faith sighed loudly. "We can't do that. It'd be a dead giveaway."

"She's right," quipped Thalia, tripping on a stubble of rock embedded on the mossy ground as a row of curses rolled off her mouth. Percy knew he was failing to hide a self-satisfied smirk; in return, Faith nudged him in the ribs with no much subtlety.

They were fairly close. No one has paid them any heed, either; maybe because they had a serious case of temporary blindness or they just couldn't care less about three demigods skirting off of the edges of the camp.

Percy's mulled gaze teetered over to Thalia's odd walking. Not that he was judgemental, no—but there were slight hindrances. It was like she was pulling her leg forwards; the way a lazy child would walk when they're mother tells them to wash the dishes. much to their whining.

"It's there, right?" he tried for small talk with the daughter of Zeus when Faith was a far bit ahead of them, occasionally glancing around for any upcoming campers. "The Book, I mean. What room did you say it was in?"

Thalia's jaw feathered. "Three. Room Three, third floor."

Percy, knowing he was going to somehow regret this later, went straight for the drachma. "You shouldn't be so hard on him. He lost his memory. Twice now, actually. That's got to be some sort of record."

They took a turn, pivoting through the canopy of trees swiftly and silently. Thalia's feet might be weaving through the grass and crushing small bits of stone, but her upper body was perfectly and rigidly still.

"Do you mean Jason?" Percy hummed in affirmation and if it were any possible, the hunter's face shuttered into ice. "He . . . he did some things, Percy. I can't . . . you're like a brother to me too, you know? One that's hell bent on finding trouble, but still my brother."

Percy cracked a smile. He could see the white-washed walls of the Big House, right behind the cluster of greenery. "Jason . . . the Seven . . . well, all my friends, really; they did things. Mistakes. They never really hated me, I think. At some point of time, when Lloyd came to camp, they just sort of started ignoring and avoiding me. They'd blame me sometimes at any chance they got. Jason tried standing up for me in the first place, actually, but . . . I don't know when, but he began blaming me too for some things I didn't even do."

It felt nice. It felt strangely nice to finally let it out to someone he looked up to as a friend. No, not friend—sister. Percy smiled to himself. Thalia could be a stubborn git sometimes, but it wasn't like he wasn't used to it.

Thalia didn't say anything further after that.

When he caught up after Faith, they were no more but a meter close to the walls of the Big House. Before entering inside, they waited for Thalia to lead the way through the close-spaced manor.

Faith was the one who swung open the door with an ear-splitting creak. In the middle, the same room where the held meetings around the ping-pong table stood to greet them. Percy scrunched up his nose; the Big House, no matter how many times it's been used for so many different reasons, looked . . . dead. Lifeless, more like it.

Faith seemed to read his mind. "I know. It looks haunted."

Thalia blinked, letting her eyes settle on the ping-pong table that made a groaning sound every time someone leaned over on it. "It didn't look like this before, you know? This used to be all painted baby blue; both inside and outside."

Percy remembered vaguely, nodding with a smile on his face. "Yeah. All of us thought it was the next ugliest thing to ever exist in camp until it was repainted white. There used to be a mistletoe by the entrance, too—whichever two people were caught in it—"

"Had to kiss?" offered Faith, exploring the wide vicinity of the room.

Thalia's face broke into a grin. "Yes, but only after they punch each other in the face."

Faith broke into a throaty laugh. But even after such a good-spirited moment, it was gone almost instantly once they made their way up the two flights of stairs. All three pulled to an abrupt stop, doing no more but staring at the oak-wooded door.

Thalia was the one who pushed it open with a harsh grunt. Percy couldn't help but release a breath of astonishment as he took in the absolute mess. He didn't know what he was expecting, really. Abiding the laws of physics, the contents inside the room seemed much larger than anticipated outside. There were even aisles, made out of books toppled over and on top of one another.

Faith, too, was as astounded as he was. "This is—"

"Bloody amazing," Percy finished for her, not able to focus on one thing at once as Thalia lead the way over all the clutter. There was a sparkling tiara of silver, a battle axe that looked a bit grimed with blood at the end, a ruined bouquet of lilies—

"Over here!" called Thalia. She hurried forward into one of the many alleyways, with him and Faith tailing right behind her. She turned right past a frightening-looking troll, took a rough left at a splintered mannequin, then finally paused to take breath beside an enormous cupboard.

"Where is it?" asked Faith, voicing out exactly what was in Percy's head. On the other hand, he was too awed by all the things surrounding him—some looked older than he was, and a few others looked as if it were brand new.

"Wait," he heard Thalia mutter, the sound of wood slamming close echoing in the vast room.

"What is it?" said Percy, finally taking his attention away from all the distracting mess.

Thalia was as subtle as he was; and that was a bad thing. She was overtly panicking now, and it was no surprise that Faith could tell too. A bad feeling crept up his spine, knowing that something was terribly wrong.

He saw Thalia close her eyes and take a deep breath before searching and rummaging through the mess again, knocking over stacks and stacks of books over. There was a clinging echo in their ears as a sword of steel clattered to the ground.

Faith swung open the cupboard Thalia had burst open earlier; it was empty. There was a snake-like skeleton inside, one that was creepy enough to give him tingles.

"Thalia?" said Percy weakly, a feeling of horror clamping down on him. "Where . . . where is the Book?"

The daughter of Zeus looked close enough to desperate. She was destroying everything; scanning every thick book she could get her hands on before throwing it aside, shoving bits of blistered furniture, checking under various different weaponry of both Imperial Gold and Celestial Bronze, all in hopes of finding the Book of Fyrmarcs.

"Thalia!" demanded Faith tawdrily, garnering Thalia's full attention at once. "Where's the Book?"

No, no, no. Thalia had said Nico helped hide the Book with her, and it was most likely the son of Hades knew where it was hidden, but . . . Nico was a good person. He wouldn't—he would never willingly hand over the Book of Fyrmarcs to the Dark, to Aphorei—

Faith was thinking the same thing. If the Dark got their hands on the Book, and they learned how to control the Fyrmarcs—

"Thalia," whispered Percy, his voice barely holding the line between panic and fury. "Answer the question."

"I—" The daughter of Zeus threw her hands in the air in frustration. "I don't know! Ni—Nico might have it, but—but now that he's gone—"

A lampshade shattered.