A/N: I think I'm really on a roll right now XD
I'm just really excited about this story, and your guys' reviews have my heart basking in pure happiness. You guys are so encouraging.
A particular shoutout to "Valkyrie Kane" for your awesome comment. It was so sweet and wholesome, and I couldn't help but share it with whoever was around me at time I'd read it, which was about two minutes after I published the second chapter XD. So thank you so much. And you're welcome for the word! I'm fascinated with language, so I for sure understand what you said about learning new words. I'll make sure to put more Facts of the Day regarding awesome words just for you.
Here we are: third chapter, and with much more to come, still.
Remember to leave your thoughts, please, and I'll respond in the author's notes if I can find room in the essays that are my author's notes xD
Speaking of responding to reviews, I wanted to address "SonofTatarus666", too, in regards to their concern that Michael and Octavian have almost switched roles, and the tilt of the seesaw, so to speak. Worry not, dear reader, I had thought of that too, when had I first started creating this huge mess of a story, and, actually, it's addressed in the next chapter. Don't worry, Michael Kahale will get some development soon :)
TW: Blood and gore (graphic); nightmares; implied(ish) suicidal thoughts; talk of homicide; panic attacks
"Chi. . ."
It was hardly more than a breath, but it was more than enough to draw Chiron's gaze from his book to look uncertainly at the sleeping boy beside him.
Except he wasn't asleep.
He was gazing back at the kindly centaur, glassy eyes barely open as tears tracked slowly down his cheeks. Chiron immediately set the book aside, gently wiping away the stray tears, "Octavian, I am most relieved to see you awake. How do you feel?"
Octavian took several moments to answer, visibly struggling just to speak, "'urts. . ."
Chiron's heart ached in sympathy- as it always did when he saw the pain demigods were forced to endure. "Go back to sleep, my boy. Sleep will help the pain."
"C'n't. . .h'rts. . ." Octavian breathed, grimacing as if all the energy were being sucked out of him.
Chiron hesitated a moment before reaching over, adding a bag of morphine to the IV stand. Octavian visibly relaxed and murmured his thanks.
Then he was sleeping again, peaceful. Chiron smiled softly, going back to his book.
He opened his eyes and rose slowly, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Walking to the door of the med-wing, he looked around: nobody there.
Strange, strange, a little bell in the back of his mind rang, danger! But for some reason, he thought nothing of it.
A gentle breeze brushed his face as he stepped outside, and he closed his eyes briefly, drawing in a deep breath. The air was sweet, but he caught a bitter scent hidden in midst of it.
He scanned the camp spread out before him: the pavilion, the plethora of cabins, the canoe lake, the arena, the armoury, the strawberry fields; Thalia's pine tree, as strong and protective as the lieutenant herself, stood proudly on the crest of Half-Blood Hill. All seemed peaceful, and a serene feeling was hovering over him, wanting to settle deep into his stomach.
But something was terribly wrong, something Octavian couldn't for the life of him put his finger on. Then it hit him.
The camp was empty.
As far as Octavian had managed to gather, even during the school year (whatever that was) when most everyone had left to stay elsewhere, the camp was never so desolate.
The peaceful silence suddenly become eerie, dread and unease growing like a cancer in the pit of Octavian's stomach. It was all he could do to stop himself vomiting, the sensation was so strong. He legs began to tremble, threatening to buckle, and he staggered sideways, hugging a nearby column to support steady himself.
What had happened? Where had everyone gone?
It was all you, my dear augur.
The voice was somehow soft and eerie at the same time, like an enemy posing as a friend.
Octavian's eyes widened, and his head snapped up.
The intruder in question stood too close for comfort, her shapeless body constantly shifting and sliding. Dirt and mud and sand dropped from her like tiny pebbles plummeting down a waterfall. Her normally sleeping face seemed far too awake, green and brown and grey and yellow and orange eyes staring directly at Octavian.
Behind her, the ground was littered with limp, lifeless bodies. The bodies of campers.
Thalia Grace. Percy Jackson. Michael Kahale. Dakota. Hazel Levesque. Will Solace. Jason Grace. Leo Valdez. Mary-Lou. Nico di Angelo. Piper McLean. Kayla Knowles. Austin Lake. Annabeth Chase. Frank Zhang. Reyna Ramirez-Arellano. Travis and Conner Stoll. Chiron.
All dead. Lifeless and cold and limp on the ground before him.
His blue orbs stung with tears, and he felt his heartbeat speed up painfully in his chest. He forced himself to focus through his blurring vision, "Gaea. What are you doing here? Michael Kahale and Leo Valdez destroyed you."
Much to his dismay, his voice sounded, hoarse, breathy. With each passing moment he was becoming more dizzy and lightheaded, and black spots were beginning to dance in front of him.
So they did.
"Then how are you here?" Octavian demanded.
As I said: it was all you.
He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, "What?"
This is what you wanted, was it not? Gaea gestured vaguely at the bodies. The breeze had gotten much stronger, Octavian noted distantly. A kingdom lack of vermin?
"I-" he blanched, tears dripping down his cheeks as a sob bubbled up in his throat. "No. No, I didn't-" He scanned the camp, the reality of it all sinking into his heart and shattering it like the glass of the sea in the brewings of a hurricane.
My dear augur, you destroyed those graecus, slaughtered them, and now-
A piercing pain exploded in his chest, and he screamed. When he looked down, gold glinted maliciously up at him through a casing of dripping blood; his blood, he realized.
His breath shortened to desperate, painful gasps. He managed to pull his gaze over his shoulder, only to be greeted by the hideous face of a roman centaur. The beast grinned maliciously at him, burying the imperial gold sword further into him until only its hilt could be seen.
Gods, he could feel the slide of the gold against his muscle and bone, the snap of each vein as the sword tore through him. He could feel his lungs constricting and collapsing as blood quickly flooded them, his heart pumping ferociously as it emptied.
-I shall slaughter you. Like the worthless dog you are.
Octavian gasped awake, a hoarse scream echoing in his ears. He buried his hands in his hair, pulling at it as everything came back full force and his breath was still coming out in painful gasps and he couldn't breathe through the blood in his lungs and his head was spinning with ferocity and all he could see was white- "Gaea!"
"What's wrong?"
"He had a nightmare, I think. . ."
"We have to do something; he thinks he's still dreaming, but according to his vitals signs, he conscious. At this rate, his condition will only worsen."
"Perhaps I can calm him."
Someone touched him gently, and he peeled his eyes open reluctantly.
A centaur!
He yelped, scrambling away so fast that he nearly fell off the cot. He curled into a ball, whimpering and shutting his eyes tightly. Something pinched the back of his hand, and he heard an annoyed sigh.
"Now I have to replace the IV again."
"Chiron, he's frightened of you."
"Why?"
"How should I know?"
"Here, allow me. I'm a fellow Roman, perhaps he'll recognize me."
Someone touched him again, and his eyes flew open again, fully expecting to be staring into the dull eyes of a roman centaur.
Purple and black were the first colours he made out, and he shakily grasped what he hoped was a praetor's cloak. His shirt was grasped gently, as if to create a sense of balance in the space between them. More tears spilled onto his sunken cheeks, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place as he looked into pair of swimming brown eyes, "R-Reyna?"
"Yes, Octavian. Can you breathe for me?"
He'd forgotten he was still short of breath, teetering on the edge of a panic attack until she'd brought him full circle, pushing it right in front of him and dropping it at his feet.
And he tried to breathe, he really did, but adrenaline was still buzzing in his very bones, yanking his muscles out of his control and making him dizzier than he thought possible.
His grip tightened, eyes wide and more tears gathering on the rims, "I- I can't-"
Reyna's hand appeared on his chest, and his was guided toward her diaphragm. "It's okay, Octavian," she soothed. "But you must breathe. Follow me: be strong like a Roman and untroubled like a Greek."
He focused on her breath, the steady thrumming of oxygen in her lungs, the way it never faltered, never changed.
Strong, steady, calm.
It took several minutes, but eventually he managed to even out his breathing, and his vision cleared as his lungs sang in relief; the adrenaline sputtered out like a broken engine.
Exhausted, he passed into nothingness.
Reyna's regal face was troubled as she clenched her fists tightly. Standing over Octavian, feverish and pained and exhausted, she was only a little surprised to feel a sisterly tug of protection and sadness. The same tug she'd felt towards Nico before, when they'd traveled together.
How had they fallen so far, so quickly?
A gentle hand squeezed her shoulder, breaking through her thoughts. Will's concerned face was gazing back at her, "Hey, you alright?
Reyna nodded, then shook her head. She sighed, "I've never seen him like this. He's always stayed away from the battlefield, so to speak. I've never seen him cry, and not once have I witnessed him having a nightmare. It's. . . unsettling, to say the least."
A brief silence settled before Chiron queried, "How do you mean 'witnessed?'"
She sighed again, chiding herself for not watching her words as closely as she usually took care to do. "He frequently had nightmares at Camp Jupiter, but his cries would always die out by the time I could get up to check on him, and he would never allow me to be a confidant for him. He's always kept to himself; even I'm not knowledgeable of his history or anything personal on him. Jason and I simply had to take his word that he was a descendant of Apollo and could legally be Camp Jupiter's augur. He had all the correct documents."
Will frowned as he replaced the IV, wisely not glancing up at Reyna as he did, "How long has he actually been living at Camp Jupiter?"
"Well, he was first integrated at the age of eleven. Then, when he was about fifteen, I think, he received a letter which requested his immediate presence. He was gone the next morning, and didn't return until several months later."
"Where did he go?"
Reyna shook her head, "We never found out. When he returned, we. . . found him collapsed, just inside the Camp. He had no severe wounds that we could find; he was simply. . . exhausted. We assumed he was fatigued from his journey. It took him several days of rest to recuperate, and he refused to relate any of the past several months to us."
"We do not know much about him," Chiron conceded. "So, what do we know about him?"
"I know he's eighteen," Reyna began, ticking off on her fingers. "I know he and his heritage is Roman. I know he has an admittedly infuriating power complex, though I'm not certain as to why."
"He mentioned before that he believes all of both camps hates him," Chiron added.
"That's because most everyone does," Will put in guiltily.
"Must it remain that way? Chiron inquired, face falling in dismay.
"I don't think we can do much about that, Chiron," Will replied grimly. Reyna gave in to her urge to smooth back Octavian's hair, smiling softly when he leaned into the touch.
"I fear you are right, my boy," Chiron said as he watched Reyna, hope showing itself to him in the sisterly act of the praetor. "But still, one must hope." He took a deep breath, his face hardening as resolve settled in his chest, "I will allow the camps to decide whether or not they shall accept Octavian."
"And if they refuse him?" Reyna asked, her voice almost trembling.
"Then he shall stay, regardless."
"Chiron!" Will exclaimed, eyes widening. "But that'll put the camp in an outrage!"
"That matters not," Chiron responded solemnly. "It is what must be risked to save a young man's life."
Octavian stirred, presently, coughing. His eyes squeezed shut in pain when he tried to sit up, so Will gently pushed him back down with a hand on his chest.
Octavian startled a little at the touch, bringing a fist to his mouth as he coughed again.
Chiron spoke to him cautiously, unsure, "Octavian?"
The augur only shook his head, letting out a shaky breath.
"Would care for some water, perhaps?"
A nod, and the centaur was off to fulfill the request.
A few moments passed in uncomfortable silence before Octavian spoke, his voice weak and soft, "I need you to do something, and I need you to agree before he comes back."
Will and Reyna exchanged glances. "Anything," the praetor responded.
"Kill me."
Reyna's heart skipped a beat; she tasted bile in her mouth, "What?"
Octavian didn't look up as he explained: "Chiron wishes me dead, but he doesn't know that yet, so he wouldn't do it. Since you two are the only ones here at the moment, I need one of you to do it."
Will's swallow echoed in the room, "Octavian. . . we don't want you dead."
Octavian sighed in frustration, "It appears I was mistaken. You don't know either."
"Octavian. . ." Reyna's voice was softer than he had ever heard it, but he wasn't in the mood for faux sympathy.
"Please," he looked up at last, eyes desperate and angry.
"They will be doing nothing of the sort, my dear boy," Chiron said firmly, making sure Octavian drank all the water given to him. "What you will be doing, is resting. You are very ill, and exerting yourself will most certainly not help."
"It doesn't matter, though, does it?" Octavian said, rubbing the back of his neck and setting the glass down on the table beside him.
"It most certainly does," Chiron argued, voice deadly calm. "Now, either you rest willingly, or I will be forced to sedate you."
Octavian swallowed, hands clenching into fists around the sheets of his cot before he reluctantly complied, allowing the blankets to be pulled over him. He was out within moments.
"What was that?" Chiron demanded, almost indignant.
Will shook his head, still stunned, "We're going to have to keep a closer eye on him."
A/N: I am so, so sorry for the horrible ending. I mulled over it for literally DAYS, and I just could not think of a better way to end this.
I suppose this is why author's have editors xD. If you guys think of a better ending (I'm certain you will), please let me know, and I'll do my best to adjust this accordingly. And if you don't, then make sure you leave your lovely thoughts before you leave in search of more fanfiction.
Fact of the Day(#16): The colour orange was actually named after the fruit orange, not the other way around, since the fruit was discovered and named appropriately first.
Again, thank you all for being so responsive, and a big thank you to "K" for giving me something to laugh about and be encouraged by until the next update, as well as a huge thank you to "the guy that loves all gunpla", because I swear I let out a big ol' whoop whenever I read your review. It was so simple, yet reminded me of how beautifully open-minded you are all being to this story.
The next update should be up sooner next time, since I'm back from Georgia now.
See you all later, dear ones : )
