This was perhaps the hardest chapter to change, I am not sure why but I adored this old chapter and I saw little in it to change besides polishing it. Somethings did change to accommodate for the new Aaron and his lack of obsession with Percy among other things.

"You seem quiet."

Grover's words stirred Aaron as he watched Annabeth and Percy spar, his idea since Percy barely had any training and she had been training seriously for at least five years. It had been fun to just watch them, for a while, but after a bit something sort of clicked and he started to drift off in thought. Just as Annabeth disarmed Percy for the third time.

"Oh, sorry... it's just... I sort of am regretting sacrificing Medusa's head."

Eyes wide, Grover turned to him in shock. "But it was your idea?"

"I know that, but it was premature in a way... Think of the kind of weapon it could have been. Friendly fire would have been a big issue but boy would we have been much safer."

The Goat boy nodded, looking as if he understood. " I can see your point... but you did a really good thing. I would have never thought about doing anything like that. You saved them, I think their souls were trapped in the statues or at least some lingering emotions. Sort of like Midas' statues... but I think they were there too long to save. So, yeah, I guess I have to thank you for Uncle Ferdinand."

Oddly that made Aaron flush, unsure how to take the thanks. "Not a problem. It just felt wrong to just leave them..."

Not long after their conversation, Percy and Annabeth hurried over, covered in sweat and tension. Percy seemed peeved, having lost most of the battles with Annabeth.

"We should probably get some sleep. Annabeth thinks it's best if we do it in shifts. I'll take first watch."

They all agreed and soon Annabeth laid down, snoring loudly as she did so. How she managed to fall asleep so quickly, especially surrounded by the grossness of the marsh. The ground was littered with flattened soda cans and fast-food wrappers. Having taken some food and blankets from Aunty Em's, they were a touch more comfortable. Aaron lit a warm fire that chased away any traces of the cold, hand near his sword and shield just in case anything decided to come and eat them.

Figuring he'd best get some sleep himself, Aaron laid down and tried to sleep after sacrificing a little bit of food to accrue some positive connection with his Goddess, without much success.

"Go ahead and sleep," Percy's voice rang out, mostly likely to Grover who was the only other person obviously awake. "I'll wake you if there's trouble."

"It makes me sad, Percy." Proven right, he heard Grover pipe up and decided to listen. He wasn't great at getting to know people, too cold and logical for that. He didn't care too much for Grover still, but he was curious none the less.

"What does?" It was impossible to miss Percy's anger, the frustration in his voice. "The fact that you signed up for this stupid quest?"

"No. This makes me sad. And the sky. You can't even see the stars. They've polluted the sky. This is a terrible time to be a satyr."

"Oh, yeah. I guess you'd be an environmentalist."

"Only a human wouldn't be. Your species is clogging up the world so fast ... ah, never mind. It's useless to lecture a human. At the rate things are going, I'll never find Pan."

Unable to stop himself, Aaron piped up. "I thought Pan was dead? And your on this planet too, I don't see Satyrs doing anything to save the world." Sitting up, he glared a little at the people who thought it smart to chat while he was trying to sleep.

"Pans not dead! He can't be... why do you guys think I want my searchers license?" Hopeless and pained, Grover turned his eyes skyward. "I have to hold out hope on that, it keeps me, us from giving up hope. Pan has to be alive.

Aaron froze as a potent magic carried itself on a strange breeze, actually overpowering the stink of trash and muck. It brought the smell of berries and wildflowers and clean rain-water, things that might've once been in these woods. A pain filled his chest, like a balloon of nostalgia and grief expanding within him. He felt for Grover then, wondering if maybe he felt something similarly painful at all times.

Percy seemed even more moved. "Tell me about the search."

Grover looked at them cautiously, but slowly he began to speak.

"The God of Wild Places disappeared two thousand years ago A sailor off the coast of Ephesos heard a mysterious voice crying out from the shore, 'Tell them that the great god Pan has died!' When humans heard the news, they believed it. They've been pillaging Pan's kingdom ever since. But for the satyrs, Pan was our lord and master. He protected us and the wild places of the earth. We refuse to believe that he died. In every generation, the bravest satyrs pledge their lives to finding Pan. They search the earth, exploring all the wildest places, hoping to find where he is hidden, and wake him from his sleep."

"And you want to be a searcher."

"It's my life's dream," he said. "My father was a searcher. And my Uncle Ferdinand ... the statue you saw back there-"

"Oh, right, sorry."

Grover shook his head. "Uncle Ferdinand knew the risks. So did my dad. But I'll succeed. I'll be the first searcher to return alive."

"Hang on the first?"

Aaron actually gaped at that, amazed at the stupidity and devotion he was hearing.

Grover took his reed pipes out of his pocket. "No searcher has ever come back. Once they set out, they disappear. They're never seen alive again."

"Not once in two thousand years?"

"No."

"And your dad? You have no idea what happened to him?"

"None."

"But you still want to go," Percy said, amazed. "I mean, you really think you'll be the one to find Pan?"

"I have to believe that, Percy. Every searcher does. It's the only thing that keeps us from despair when we look at what humans have done to the world. I have to believe Pan can still be awakened."

"Your wrong." They turned to Aaron, who looked angrily at Grover. "Humans did this but your people aren't any better. You sit and search for a lost god instead of putting in the effort yourself. If he died then you've wasted your time doing nothing, countless lives for a cause without purpose when you could have dedicated yourselves to healing the damage through action, education or just eating it since you can actually eat plastic which we still have no idea how to deal with." He shivered, a little confused by his own anger but still he found some enjoyment barking at the little man before him. "Instead of casting blame, come up with solutions and get over yourself. If the other Satyrs could do that then maybe pollution would have been solved centuries ago."

Done, he turned and laid back down, relishing in the silence that echoed out before him.

...

Despite normally never doing so, that night Aaron dreamed. It started off normally enough with that flat image of nothing that most of his nights consisted off. The deep timeless passage into nothing. Like every other night he saw nothing and felt less, all seemed well and then it wasn't. Seated in in the Cave of Magic at Halfblood, breathing in the warmth of the Forge fires, looking at a very stern Alabaster. The boy seemed taller in the world of dreams, or maybe Aaron himself was just shorter...

"Really, you've barely left New York and it's almost night. What is holding you up?" Arms locked on his waist, he looked the part of the scolding mother in the Maiden Mother Crone cycle. "I sensed a tremendous burst of magic in your general area, we all did. A great sacrifice was cast, what was it?"

Sitting more comfortably, the Quester looked back up at Alabaster. "A lot has happened... we were talked too by the Kindly Ones, Percy's mother had been returned and it turns out the Helm has also been stolen." Without waiting for a response, he piled on. "Oh and we fought Medusa. I convinced Percy to sacrifice her head and he added the Minotaur's horn, in return for guiding the souls of the innocents turned to stone safely into the Underworld or maybe heal them. They turned them into flowers, to no one surprise. Oh and will I be bleeding from my eyes again, that happened the last time I astral projected?"

His words seemed to almost strike Alabaster, a nasty smirk crossing his face in an instant. " They are pretty bad, the gods I mean. And maybe, but probably no, we wove more protections into this casting then she might have had the chance to do." His voice changed, lowering as he blasphemed the gods. " I wondered why your aura was so different, your pissed."

"How do you know?"

The smirk only deepened on his teacher, something sinister flaring around him in the dim firelight. "Your a smart boy, and your channeling magic. Emotion is half of our power, and we tap into that. Lies do not beget magic, truth does." His voice shifted again, turning kinder. " Don't worry about it, magic has all sorts of weird effects. I've seen people unable to lie, others that only can. It tends to turn in on the user, changing them. Anyway, I had some ideas about what was stolen, Underworld demigods and our witches can feel the turmoil. Knowing that it's the Helm really explains a lot

Helping those souls will only do you good, might be enough to give you some good karma in case you die. That was a smart idea, casting such a sacrifice but you have to be more careful, magic like that will attract anything sensitive to it. Underworld monsters are wild beasts, a lot of them wander the world. That magic, It will linger on your skin, drawing monsters to your location so you have to be careful. Cast a purifying spell to get off all of the lingering magic from your earlier spel-"

"AARON!"

The dream shattered as his real eyes whipped open, he threw himself awake and away from his makeshift bed just in time to see a hell hound chasing a flying Grover.

Summoning his bow from it's place next to him, Aaron pulled an arrow that he quickly let loose the moment Grover stopped to turn, aiming for it's throat but pegging the beast in the leg and making it whimper, then growl a sound that was not quite mortal. It turned it's razor teeth in his direction, it's blood red eyes boiling in rage as it slowly approached him. He knocked another arrow, aiming for it's snout, the biggest part he could see.

"Incante: Incendia!" He whispered, channeling the cool power from his talisman desperately as the arrow flew forth, blazing bright as it flew away.

The beast exhaled as the arrow reached it, shoving right in it's left nostril but doing little damage as it blew the damn flame out. Still it clearly hurt, the beast flailed from side to side, screeching in agony, clawing at it's face desperately to unhook the arrow. It's whimper was almost adorable in a pained sort of way.

Thankfully Percy, wearing Annabeth's hat ended the beast, swiping his blade across it's throat as he appeared, dispelling it into nothing more then a shaggy back pelt. They all panted, with Annabeth coming from behind a tree to collect her hat.

"That was a close one, How did it get in here?"

They all turned to Grover, who gulped. "It appeared from the shadow and jumped at me."

"Literally I imagine." Aaron limped over to the fur, quickly collecting it in his arms. "This would make a great coat, it's so soft... I wonder if it has any magical properties…" Feeling their annoyed eyes on him, he hid the fur behind his back. "Sorry, anyway, Alabaster summoned me in my dream and I guess that our prayer spell left lingering magics on us. They could sense it from camp, so it's no wonder that a hellhound could trace us. In retrospect, it was a big sacrifice and so a big spell... we need to be more careful I guess...I'll check my book for a purifying spell, something that will keep us safe in case this happens again. Maybe I can even find something that can mask our presence?"

They all groaned, with Annabeth citing. " No good deed goes unpunished..."

She wasn't wrong...

But as they managed to restore their camp, with Aaron patching up the wounds on Grover's head and legs (mostly from flying through the trees) and slowly returned to sleep, despite the shock of everything, Aaron couldn't help but wonder what Alabaster had been getting at... Was he really getting more angry from the Magic or was it something else...

He would keep an eye on his behavior until he knew better. He refused to be controlled by anything, even his magic.

Chapter end, tell me what you think in the reviews.

This was fun to write.

Love, your Ninja Overlord,

Mika.