Percy had never been more thankful for a river.

As he neared the Little Tiber, accompanied by Reyna and her two automadogs (as Percy had taken to calling them), the water called to him. The water, rising to meet his hands and his broken rib, helped imbue him with a sense of peace and calm he had missed for days. The encounter with the Gorgons, the Mare, Octavian, and the whole camp of people like him had kept him on edge. Although, with his dreams and experiences since he woke up, he probably needed to get used to it.

The water curled around Percy's torso at his behest, healing his ribs from the Mare's attack. That was the most concerning and perplexing concept at hand - how could injuries transcend time? Who cursed him so?

Or maybe it was a blessing? Maybe without that… ability, Percy wouldn't be able to affect two different times.

But maybe it was at someone's behest that he could even go back in time when he was unconscious. Was he doing someone's dirty work without realizing it? That made him shudder. He was no puppet - he was himself, with his own moral code, his own thoughts, his own emotions. Right?

He hoped.

Percy turned back to Reyna, nodding with a satisfied smile on his face.

"Ok. Let's go."

Reyna spun in a tight circle, marching right back towards the Via Praetoria in front of the barracks. She had assembled the Legion there, ready to introduce the son of Neptune to the cohorts. As Percy approached, he realized how sizable and, frankly, impressive the group truly was.

There were five cohorts, each thirty or forty strong in numbers, all dressed in full war gear. Chain-mail rested on purple shirts, greaves over jeans, helmets on sweaty heads in a sweltering California afternoon. Spears, swords, and shields could all be seen on first look, and Percy was willing to bet daggers were in the picture too.

The demigods held themselves at attention as soon as Reyna appeared, a silence settling over the road. Each cohort had a leader standing in front of their troops, medals pinned to each chest, except for the one furthest from the front - Percy assumed this was the lowest-ranking cohort. He wondered if there were lower qualities of life depending on the stature of the cohort amongst the legion. Given the shoddy armor they seemed to be dressed in, Percy assumed so.

Reyna marched up to the front, Percy following behind. Near the front were a few people Percy didn't recognize - most were guards, ready to defend their Praetor at a moment's notice. There were the standard bearers, holding poles decorated with symbols of each cohort aloft. Percy noticed there was a sixth standard, this one empty on top. The guy holding that standard clearly wanted to be elsewhere.

Octavian stood on the outskirts of the circle form, deep in a tome that seemed older than the legionnaires combined, flipping through pages as fast as a son of Hermes pickpockets. He was fully engrossed, and barely even acknowledged Reyna and her entourage near him. Percy had a feeling that was the first book of many that Octavian would read today.

There was another demigod up there as well, but one that seemed as out of place as Percy. He was dressed in all black, short black hair styled to just barely hang over his forehead. He had a pitch black set of armor, over a pair of black jeans and a gray t-shirt. A skull ring sat on his forefinger, and a chain replaced a belt. He seemed incredibly bored, and did not stand at attention as the others in the legion. In fact, he didn't even seem to be part of the legion.

The teen was looking down at the ground until they approached, when he looked up and scanned the newcomers. Percy locked eyes with the demigod, whose eyes widened for a half-second before settling back into a neutral mask. The shadows seemed almost to hide his face from view.

Percy concluded that talking to this kid was step one. He didn't know the kid, but the kid clearly knew him. He could be the first direct link to his prior life.

Percy exhaled. Finally, a link.

Reyna walked towards a beautiful pegasus standing further down the Via Praetoria, petting its nose as she mounted the creature. She wheeled him back to face the cohorts, nodded to each of the leaders in quick succession, before turning to address the legion from her steed.

"Romans!"

This was greeted by a simultaneous, triumphant cry of approval from every single member in the legion.

"I have gathered you here today to witness the induction of Perseus Jackson, a son of Neptune, into the legion. He has been through trials and tribulations to arrive at Camp Jupiter, including slaying two of the Gorgons just outside our tunnel entrance. Our augur, what have the auguries declared?"

Octavian didn't respond until the goth kid bumped his shoulder. "Ah yes, yes Praetor, the auguries have declared Perseus fit to serve." He instantly looked back down into his book.

The legionnaires all shouted out, "Ave! Hail!"

Reyna continued. "To those who stand before me today, are there any who choose to stand for him?"

"Aye!"

The shout rang out from a brown-skinned girl in the furthest cohort away. Percy recognized her as Hazel, one of the guards on station outside the Caldecott Tunnel, who helped him escape the Gorgons. She had a hand around the mouth of her guarding partner, preventing him from speaking.

"I was a witness to his efforts outside the tunnel. I will stand for him."

Reyna sighed, but continued. "Thank you, Hazel Levesque. You may stand for the recruit. Does anyone else wish to stand?"

No takers.

"Very well. Does the Fifth Cohort accept him as their own?"

Percy heard a bit of laughing around other cohorts. Perhaps the Fifth wasn't looked upon too favorably. He'd try to change that.

Hazel and her companion began banging their shields on the ground, before the entirety of the Fifth Cohort joined in. The two people at the front gave a look to each other, one almost of resignation, before one of them stepped forward.

"We accept the new recruit into the Fifth."

Reyna nodded, before looking at Percy. "Congratulations, Perseus. You are on probatio, and will be for one year or until you conduct an act of valor, before we officially become a member of the Twelfth Legion Fulminata. Your probatio tablet will be given to you soon. Serve Rome to the best of your ability, and to our satisfaction. Senatus Populusque Romanus!"

The rest of the legion echoed her. "Senatus Populusque Romanus!"

Reyna turned, steering the pegasus to a ninety-degree angle from the legion. "Centurions! Your cohorts have sixty minutes for dinner, and another sixty to prepare for War Games on the Field of Mars! The First and Second Cohorts will be defending, while the Third, Fourth, and Fifth will be sieging. Prepare yourselves!"

As the cohorts cheered, she launched into the air, flying towards New Rome. The cohorts immediately began dispersing, the slightly tense and serious atmosphere dropping from the various faces around. The teenagers were back to joking and laughing with their friends. Percy wondered if any of them had faced any real combat.

He turned towards the emo kid. Percy knew the guy had recognized him. It was obvious the instant they locked eyes. He turned towards the kid, walking directly towards him.

The kid looked up at him, his eyes an almost burning obsidian. As Percy drew close, he realized his hand - a pale, almost skeletal-looking, hand - was beckoning for him to come close.

"Do I know you?"

The kid looked up, his mouth thin. There was pain in his eyes. "Percy... it is very, very important that you listen to what I am about to say. Do you hear me?"

Percy nodded.

"Go meet with your cohort. Introduce themselves. Hazel, she was the one who vouched for you, she's my half-sister. Talk to her. She could use another friend."

"But who are - "

The kid interrupted him. "My name is Nico." He paused, as if looking for any kind of recognition on Percy's face. He didn't seem to find any. "I can't tell you much. I don't want to risk anything. We can't talk here. While the cohorts eat dinner, find me on Temple Hill, at the Crypt of Pluto. I might be able to help a little bit."

Nico hesitated. "But… be cautious. Especially with divine names. Don't use any of them. Names have power, and they could be your downfall if you use them without care."

Percy nodded. "I've learned that lesson."

Nico took a breath. "Good. Listen, I don't know what happened exactly. I just have bits and pieces. And I think if I tell you too much, it might also attract attention. I hope I haven't said too much already. Just… good luck, Percy. Now go meet your cohort."

Percy tried to keep asking him questions. Here was a real person who knew who he was. A link to his past. He needed to keep him talking.

But Nico had other plans, apparently. With a spin and a spiral, Nico collapsed into his own shadow, the darkness on the ground swallowing him up effortlessly. Nico hadn't even seem fazed. Percy didn't know what the hell he had just seen, or heard.

He had to get his questions ready for that meeting though. He felt like he was preparing to go on a game show called Who Wants To Mess With Percy!

"Heya Percy!"

Hazel and her friend walked up to him, smiles on their faces. They had taken their helmets off, holding them at their sides. They both seemed to be about 14 or 15 years old.

"Hey, Hazel, right? Thanks for standing up for me here, I'm excited to join the Fifth."

Hazel snorted. "Don't look forward too much, I gather you'll wind up disappointed. This is my friend Frank, he's also pretty new here."

So Frank was the name of the other guard on duty as Percy entered. He had a military haircut atop a bulky body, but also with a pudgy face that didn't seem to fit. It was a great metaphor for his choice of weapon too - an archer was rarely as burly as Frank was. He reminded Percy of a koala bear that had enlisted in the Marines. Frank waved. "Hi."

"Nice to meet you. What's wrong with the Fifth? I noticed a lot of people didn't seem very… excited for me to join y'all."

Hazel sighed. "I'll talk while we walk. To dinner, perhaps?"

Percy nodded, the trio turning and walking towards the mess hall. Percy could tell Frank was a little nervous, and he had a feeling that Frank was both sensitive and had an inferiority complex. He didn't have a tattoo on his arm with a sign as to parentage, so maybe he was still unclaimed.

That would certainly cause some low self esteem.

Hazel started the story. "You have to understand the importance of a legion's eagle first. The eagle standard was apparently blessed by the Gods, or charged by them, or something of that sort… anyways, the Roman legions would fight to the last man to protect their eagle. Historians haven't been able to find the remains of an eagle because of that. A Roman legion would rather sacrifice their eagle or destroy it than see it fall into other hands. It was a great shame to lose it at all."

Percy nodded, absorbing the information. "So, my best guess would be that you, or say, the Fifth, lost it? I saw the empty standard."

"Yep. Found out on my first day." Frank thumbed his tablet, which Percy assumed was the probatio tablet he was due to get soon. "The Fifth is the laughingstock of the whole legion."

"In the '80s, a praetor named Michael Varus from the 5th heard of the Prophecy of Seven, and thought trying to complete it would bring honor to the legion. He wanted to save the world - he got in over his head. He ignored the warnings from the previous augur and took a hundred fighters to Alaska…" Hazel said the state's name with a tremor in her voice, "...with the eagle."

"They lost it?"

"Fifteen soldiers came back, all in shock, unwilling to divulge what happened. PTSD and all. The Fifth fell from grace. That's also why you ended up in the Fifth - sons of Neptune are bad luck. No place for you aside from here."

Frank followed up. "So, we're the laughingstock of the legion. Up to us to try and rebuild our reputation, I guess."

Percy shrugged casually. "Ok, so let's win the War Games tonight."

Frank gave a cynical laugh. "Sure, let's just go break a 13 game losing streak."

Hazel jokingly pushed his shoulder. "Yeah, 13 since you got here. It's definitely been much longer than that."

"You haven't had me on your side yet."

Hazel giggled. "Sure, sure." She waved her hands around in the air. "You, and your magical water powers, will propel us to victory!"

Frank seemed to turn blazing red as Hazel's hand brushed his arm. Percy gave a goofy smile.

Oh yeah, they'd be a thing soon.

He kept walking, before feeling his foot collide with a massive rock, one that he could've sworn wasn't there. He fell, catching himself with his hands before standing back up. He bent over to pick up the rock and throw it off the path before realizing.

It was a bar of gold.

Solid, beautiful, shiny gold.

Percy bent down to pick it up. How often do gold bars just appear out of the ground? Before his fingers could touch it though, Hazel lunged, knocking him away.

"What the - "

"Don't touch it!"

Percy was baffled. Hazel sent a quick look towards Frank, making sure he wasn't making moves towards the gold. She quickly scrambled up, a wild look on her face, like she just threw herself in front of a bullet.

"Hazel, what… what is that?"

She sent a fearful look at the gold. "It's my curse. Just… please. Don't push. Give me a second."

Percy chose to give her all the time she needed.

Hazel concentrated, her face scrunching as she brought her hands up. Her left hand clenched in a fist, before she drove it downwards, pointed towards the earth. The gold bar sunk under the surface, a slow, quiet rumble accompanying its sinking. Soon enough, the only remnant of the bar was an uneven rock in the cobblestone of the road.

"Hazel, is that… normal?"

She sighed. "I'm a child of Pluto. I'm very in tune with gold and silver and other gems, but anything that pops up will curse anyone other than me that makes contact. A joyful remnant of my upbringing." She finished with a tone drier than the Sahara.

"They just pop up unwillingly?" Percy asked.

"Yeah. It sucks."

"I'm sorry. Pushing it back underground was pretty cool though."

Hazel looked away. "Thanks."

There was a brief period of silence, before he looked at Frank.

"Who's your parent? I haven't seen a tattoo on your arm yet."

"Ah, yeah. I don't know," Frank responded. "I mean, I'm good with a bow, so I hope Apollo claims me. I don't know. It doesn't really feel like I belong here… I guess that's why I ended up in the Fifth."

Hazel swung around. "Frank, come on! This again? You absolutely belong here. Get that through your thick skull!"

Percy smiled. It was nice to be around real people, bickering and all.

"Let's get moving," Frank chimed in. "We should eat something before war games."

"Alright."

With that, the trio trudged off.

Percy whistled as they approached the mess hall, a massive building with rows and rows of tables. He could see spirits moving back and forth, delivering food at a flurrying pace to hungry legionnaires. Every kind of food could be seen - sushi to pizza to wings to Mediterranean fare. His stomach grumbled, but he had more important conversations to have.

"Hazel, I've got to go have a conversation with your brother. Save me a seat will you?"

Frank turned to Hazel. "The Ambassador to Pluto?"

Hazel nodded. "Good luck, Percy. Nico can scare some people."

"I think I'll be able to handle myself. Thanks guys." With a wave, Percy split from the duo and headed to Temple Hill.

While he walked down the Via Praetoria, Percy was lost in his thoughts, yet again. He felt like he was swimming in deep water - he could still breathe, but he couldn't yet orientate himself. It was disconcerting.

He was now in a camp, one with a rigid schedule, an easy-to-decipher power structure, and generally a sense of camaraderie. Frank and Hazel seemed like nice enough people, and Reyna commanded power in a respectful way. There was a city that seemed to be safe, a river that helped Percy with his powers, and temples to pray to the gods. And finally, a place to sleep without worrying about Gorgons.

But there were still so many missing pieces to Percy's puzzle. His memory, of course, was the biggest issue. But he had a feeling that continuing to live and thrive would help try and put the pieces of the puzzle together. Hopefully, he could talk to some deities sooner or later that might be able to help him. And injuries being transcendent of time seemed to break every single law of physics. Percy didn't appreciate that either.

And to those existing pieces were mysteries that seemed to pop up hourly.

What was Hazel's curse? Who cursed her?

Why did monsters not stay dead?

Who took Percy's memory?

Why did Octavian seem to recognize Aika's name, however faint it may have been?

Who was Nico? And why did Nico seem shocked to see him?

Percy hoped he would be able to find answers to those final two in just a few minutes.

He reached the base of Temple Hill. It was impressive, honestly. Numerous temples dotted the hillside - he could see Mars, Venus, Juno, Apollo, Mercury, and countless others. Some were grand structures, well-kept and proudly standing amongst the grassy surface. Others seemed to be lacking in care and upkeep - Percy hoped that was because they lacked many demigod children, and not contempt.

At the top of the hill sat a truly impressive temple to Jupiter, made of marble and terra cotta and radiating nearly pure power. Four columns stood proudly in the front, and Percy could tell it was easily the largest temple in the entire Camp. Red lightning shot from a cloud that seemed to be hovering over the complex - Percy wasn't sure he appreciated it.

He'd stay away from that one.

Percy began trudging up the hill, before quickly coming to a stop. There was a blue shed near the base of the hill, a rowboat perched atop the roof, an anchor on the door. There were cobwebs stretched across the dusty window frames, while the water in a small moat had been muddied and left dirty. The wood the shed was made of was peeling, giving it a dilapidated, abandoned look. It was sad.

Percy walked up to the small, creaky bridge that crossed the moat. He stood just beyond it, breathing the air in. It smelled just a bit saltier than the rest of Camp. Percy sighed.

I'm sorry Dad. I'll clean this up.

As he lifted his foot forward, intent on reestablishing Neptune's temple as a more beautiful one, Nico and Octavian's warnings rang through his head.

Scars run deep, and yours run deeper. Don't forget.

Do not draw divine attention.

…be cautious. Especially with divine names. Don't use any of them.

Percy slowly stepped backwards. He so badly wanted to open the door. Pray to his dad. Clean up his dad's shrine. Be a good son. His dad might even be able to help him with his memory issues.

Do not draw divine attention.

Fine.

Percy withdrew to the main path. One day, soon, he'd come back. He'd come back and call his father. Clean the shrine. One day, when he could remember why he was here.

He had questions, and just a bit of a way up that hill was an answer. Percy continued on.

Soon enough, he arrived at an obsidian crypt, built into the hillside. It was one of the more subtle ones - without a sign nearby, Percy likely would've walked right past it. Percy guessed Pluto might not be the most loved god either in Rome.

Nico had said to meet him inside, despite his warnings of divine attention. Percy took a breath, before opening the door and walking inside.

The crypt wasn't overly large. The ceilings were low, supported by arching beams that held it in place. Columns lined the sides, creating shadows that filled much of the space, likely enabling easy access to shadow traveling. At the opposing end of the crypt lay a stool, standing right in front of an altar. It felt relatively empty.

As Percy stepped into the crypt, he could see a couple photographs, spread across the altar. He swiveled his head, looking for any sign of Nico, but came up empty. He walked across the floor to the altar, his footsteps echoing. The air, despite a slight breeze outside, was completely still. It felt dead.

Three of the photos showed Nico, albeit younger. In each one, he smiled wide, joined by a girl a couple years his elder, while the glowing lights of Vegas casinos shined behind them. There was a clear resemblance between the two of them - perhaps they were full siblings, instead of just half-siblings, like Nico and Hazel. Percy wondered what happened to Nico to make him into the dour Ambassador of Pluto.

The fourth photo was on top of an envelope. Percy grabbed the photo first, before dropping it like it burned.

That was him!

He was there, right behind Nico. Unmistakeable. His black hair, his green eyes, his facial features. That was himself. He had on an unfamiliar orange t-shirt, with a necklace with unfamiliar pendants, and was joined by a group of unfamiliar people. There was a girl around his age, with black hair and electric blue eyes, holding a can of Mace. She looked dangerous. Besides her was a satyr (as the goat feet implied), with a spotty beard on his chin. And there was a blonde girl with gray eyes that Percy recognized.

She was from his dream. She had said she wanted him back.

Percy didn't know who they were.

On the back of the picture were names, written hurriedly in black marker.

Nico di Angelo.

Thalia Grace.

Grover Underwood.

Annabeth Chase.

Percy Jackson didn't recognize any of them. But he knew exactly which name he could attach to each face. He knew that subconsciously, he knew who they were, but he just didn't know. It was incredibly annoying.

He grabbed the photo, stuffing it in his pocket. He didn't care if Nico wanted it or not. This was a link to his past, a tangible link to his past. Percy wasn't going to let that go easily.

The envelope once again caught his eye, and he could read the hastily scribbled To Percy written on it. He took it and tore it open, sitting down on the stool to read it.

Hey Perce,

This is Nico. I just came back from the Underworld after seeing you the first time. My father, he was one of your good allies, and he still is. We knew you were still alive, being related to death and all, but we had no idea where you were. Frankly, no one did, except for whoever actually put you here and took your memory. But the Underworld will always be safe for you.

My father has forbidden me from contacting you, until your memory returns. He says something about how you need to tread this path alone. Trust me, I want to tell you what I know, but I have a feeling it just isn't time yet. What I can tell you is vague, but vague enough to be necessary to say (this comes from my father). Go north. Ask Hazel about Michael Varus, if she hasn't told you already. Follow Varus' path, and you'll find some answers. I'd come with you, but my father has forbidden it.

Find Nereus. He might be able to truly help your memory, if the names on the picture didn't.

Trust me on this. Be safe.

Thanks, Perce.

Nico

Percy swore. He was really hoping to talk to Nico personally. This impersonal form of communication would have to do, but he wished he had more to work with.

He started folding the paper up to put in his back pocket, when some more ink caught his eye - this time, it was one word, written in all caps in golden ink on the back of the paper. The handwriting was different, too.

AIKA

Percy collapsed, the letter slipping from his fingers, as he hit the obsidian floor. Was it the ink… or a trigger word… was there… who wrote… who… what…

Unconsciousness claimed him again.

"The most finished of all these accounts, is that of the great Roman poet. Where observe how warily he begins, with that apologetic preface, – Sit mihi fas audita loqui – 'May I be allowed to tell what I have heard.' And, in the conclusion…

"AIKA!"

Percy screamed her name as she was tossed around like a rag doll. An invisible force was launching her around the room, one shrouded in darkness except in a small area of visible light, as if they were putting on a theater play. The circle was surrounded by columns that seemed to evaporate into nothingness.

He tried to move to save her, but his arms and legs were in golden shackles. He felt powerless, not just because he was locked up as his best friend was being tortured. The shackles felt like they were sapping his power from himself. Almost like he was bleeding out, but without any injuries.

Another tug of force grabbed Aika, bleeding from a thousand cuts, and pulled her head back. The darkness seemed to bend and pull, with a being of pure black energy descending from the sky. The being seemed to hover in front of Aika, looming over her prone, barely conscious body. It spoke, its voice distorted, but still clearly menacing.

"One last time, scum. Where is your father?!"

Aika said nothing.

"Bah! Worthless bitch." The being tossed her to the floor, and Percy could see her head snap back. Blood covered the floor.

"AIKA!" Percy kept screaming.

The shrouded being whipped its head over to him. "Shut up, you stupid son of a bitch! You're an accomplice to her crimes!"

"What crimes?!"

"Shut up!"

The being thrust a hand out towards Percy. A bolt of black lightning surged outwards, hitting Percy like a truck. Percy's head lolled down as he succumbed to the electricity.

All he could think about was Aika.

A woman sat next to an empty fire pit.

She sat alone. Her brown hair was hidden under a hood of fine cloth, while her body pulled together into a small ball. Her eyes had been dulled, the normally fiery red diminished into a dull brown. She was weeping, but no tears came out. She had run out of tears.

She cried for her family, who had since abandoned the city, blind to the real issue at hand. She cried for the future, something which may not exist for everyone it should. She cried for the heroes who would lose their faith, and their lives.

She cried.

A sack of wood lay beside her, ready to help build a fire should one ever come. And yet, it had not come in months. Hope had been extinguished.

The fire had gone out, and it was freezing.

The cold seemed to cover every bit of her domain. The fire pit, her hood, on the ground, in the air. It overtook everything. It was deadly.

She lay, shivering. She was not one to leave her post at the hearth, no matter the occasion. All she had was the tiniest bit of hope in her own divine form that convinced her to stay.

Maybe one day, the flame would burn bright again.

Maybe one day, a fire would be started.

Maybe one day, hope could be restored.

But today was not that day.

…lest anyone should imagine he believed any of these accounts, he sends the relater of them out of hades by the ivory gate, through which, he had just informed us, that only dreams and shadows pass, – a very plain intimation, that all which has gone before, is to be looked upon as a dream!"

John Wesley, 17 January of 1791

"Percy!"

Percy opened his eyes, blinking wearily, his vision slowly coming into focus. Hades, those dreams were awful. Dreams? Visions? He didn't know what caused him to black out - maybe her name written down was a trigger word? Maybe it was the ink? A spell on the letter? That was bizarre.

He needed to know Aika was alive. That dream was disturbing beyond belief.

"Aika?"

"Who's Aika? It's Hazel."

Percy's eyes flew open as he scrambled back. Sure enough, it was Hazel, standing near the front of Pluto's crypt of a temple. He relaxed.

"Sorry, I... I don't know. Thought you were somebody else."

He needed to pull himself together.

"Percy, what happened? We heard screaming." Hazel was looking at him with concern, her golden eyes

gold eyes gold eyes evil they took everything the gold eyes they are your enemy they serve to kill they serve to maim and butcher titan evil disaster they are your enemy do not trust her she will

alight with worry.

Percy flinched. He had no clue where that thought had come from. The first time he had seen her eyes, they didn't affect him at all. Why the hell did his mind keep acting up? Who's golden eyes had provoked such a reaction? Was that a remnant of his past life?

He shook his head of his thoughts, trying to bring himself fully to the present moment.

Hazel seemed cautious, like she was avoiding stepping on eggshells. He hoped he wasn't screaming too hard.

Percy shook his head. "Just... some weird visions, I think."

Scars run deep, and yours run deeper. Don't forget.

He stood up, making sure to grab the fallen letter written by Nico. He folded it, stuffing it in his pocket. Maybe he could ask someone if a spell or something was done to the ink on the back? It was good to have proof, at least.

Hazel spoke up. "Well, if you ever need to get something off your chest, just come to us. I'm sure we can try and help."

Percy took a deep breath, but nodded. "Thanks Haze."

The daughter of Pluto wiggled her eyebrows at him. "Frank's right outside. Does Mr. Let's-win-the-war-games want to go win the war games?"

He smiled, however slight. "Yeah. Let's do it."

A/N: Honestly, I expected this chapter to go a wildly different route, but while writing this just seemed to fit. Hope you all enjoy! Please leave a comment, they really do help me.

EDIT: I had included a different bit towards the end, and I realized I really didn't like the placement at all. Sorry about that! But something like that will probably show later in the story. Try not to blame me! Lol.