15
Reyna
Reyna wasn't expecting to wake to a mouth full of sand, but as her consciousness returned, she immediately found herself coughing and spitting the stuff out. As she lifted her head from the ground, she saw that she was prone on some kind of beach, fine sand stretching in either direction, and the sound of waves gently crashing up onto the shore. She lifted her hand to block the midday sun as she looked out over the water, and she saw nothing but blue all the way out to the horizon.
Even through her grogginess and aching pain, her mind flew at a rapid pace, trying to remember what had happened. New York, Olympus, taxis, Nemesis…
Mason.
Reyna's eyes snapped back to the area around her, looking for him. She saw that the beach led up to a forest of cedar trees, with rolling green hills in the distance past them. But she didn't see Mason anywhere. The fine white sand of the beach was smooth aside from the small indentation where she had been laying.
She checked herself to see what she still had on her. Her golden sword and dagger. Her clothes, including the brown Winnie The Pooh hoodie she still had from Mason. That was it.
Reyna could feel a whole host of thoughts running through her head, from mulling over survival tactics to a growing suspicion that she knew what this place was, but she pushed all that to the side for the moment, intent on finding Mason. He had fallen right alongside her, so it made sense that he would be somewhere nearby. She began to make her way down the beach, her feet sinking into the fine sand with each step.
It was a beautiful place, that much was undeniable. It almost seemed too perfect, with its clear blue water and luscious greenery further up the beach. Even the sand was pristine, smooth and soft under her feet. It was quite the sudden change from the bustling and pollution-laden streets of New York. The sky was completely clear as the early afternoon sun shone down, which Reyna noted was odd since it had definitely been past noon when they had encountered Nemesis in New York. Had she been out for nearly a whole day? Hopefully not, especially since Mason was still out there.
Speaking of which, after only a minute or so of walking, she sighed in relief as she spotted a figure in the distance, sat down in the sand. As she drew closer, the figure turned and spotted her, giving a small wave. She felt a small smile sneak up on her, which dwindled a little when she saw that he was cringing in pain.
"Hey," Mason said as she knelt down beside him. He was sitting with his right leg folded up to his chest and his left stretched out along the sand, the latter of which he was gripping with one hand. Next to him, there was an object lying in the sand that seemed to be some kind of torch, which was odd since she hadn't seen him with it before. "You okay?" Despite his obvious discomfort, he still had an expression of concern his face as he looked to her intently.
Reyna nodded, looking him over. "Are you?"
Mason let out a huff. "All things considered, could be worse. I think I landed on my leg bad though, and it was the one that was already bad." He gestured to his outstretched left leg. "Made it about twenty feet down the beach before I decided it just wasn't worth it."
She wordlessly set a hand on his leg, trying to check if anything was obviously broken.
"I don't think it's anything too bad," he said, grimacing. "But it sure hurts like hell right now."
Looking up from his leg, Reyna scanned the area around them. She noticed a spot further up the beach where it looked like someone had set up some kind of camp, with a fire pit and an odd assortment of what looked like blacksmithing equipment, with a bench, anvil, and even something that looked like a makeshift outdoor brick oven. Close by she also spotted what looked like a path leading from the beach further up inland and into the hills.
"Let's find somewhere better to rest," she said, standing up. "Looks like there might be other people here."
Mason glanced behind them. "Oh yeah, I saw that earlier. Haven't seen anyone, though."
She reached out a hand, which he took as she helped him up. He staggered a bit, but she held on, putting his arm over her shoulders as he stood up fully.
"Thanks," he said breathily. "Could you get that for me?" He gestured down to the object in the sand. She reached down with her free hand to grab it and handed it to him. She could see it better now: an intricately carved torch with ivory and gold detail. One more question to ask later, she supposed. Mason looked at the object for a moment before lowering his hand.
"How long have you been here?" Reyna asked.
"Since waking up? I don't know, maybe half an hour? You?"
"A bit less than that."
Mason looked around as they began to make their way slowly up the beach, Reyna supporting his weight as he limped. "So, where are we, exactly? Pretty sure this isn't anywhere close to New York."
Reyna's eyes narrowed. "I think I may know, but I'm not sure. I've heard of a place like this."
"Oh boy. So somewhere special, then?"
"Most likely."
As they approached the odd campsite, Reyna eased Mason down to sit him on one of the benches as she looked over what was there. It really did look like a castaway blacksmith's haven, with a forge built from mud bricks, a makeshift anvil made from a large rock and a sheet of metal, and bits of metal and even wire scattered about the place. There wasn't much more than that, though – no food, clothing, or supplies of any kind. After a short period of searching, she decided it would be more worthwhile for them to trek up the footpath.
After only a minute or so of walking, they came across where the path ended and opened up into a wider space past the cedar trees.
"Wow," Mason whispered, echoing what Reyna was thinking.
It was a garden, one to rival any other. There was a whole plethora of vibrant plants, from an orchard of peach and apple trees, to a vineyard of grapes, to a wide spread of multicolored flowers and vegetables and herbs. There was a large fountain in the middle of the space, with bronze statues of fauns spitting water, and white trellises with vines crawling up and around them. All of it was surrounded by rolling grass-covered hills and tall cedar trees. Further up one of the hills nearby, there was an opening into what looked like a cave, with glittering rock carved into two columns on either side of the entrance.
"This place…" Reyna said.
"…is beautiful," Mason finished.
Reyna was fairly certain that wasn't what she was going to say, but she couldn't help but agree.
Once they both shook themselves from their awed daze, they made their way through the garden, the smells of fresh fruit and herbs washing over them. The faint sounds of the trickling fountain and a handful of distant bird chirps were all that filled the air.
"We should be careful," Reyna said as they approached the cave entrance. "I don't think whoever is here will hurt us, but it is always a possibility."
"Right," Mason said.
Wordlessly, they stepped through the entrance, and were met yet again by a stunning sight.
The walls of the cave were made entirely of multicolored crystal, reflecting bits of blue, purple, green, and red across the space. Hung from the ceiling were multiple white curtains, draped down to act as room dividers. It was clearly a home, as there were pieces of furniture and appliances around the rooms, including a copper sink, a loom, a cooking pot and fire, a single bed, and more. There were pillows, rugs, fruit bowls, end tables, and all the other small things one filled out their home with.
"Remind me again," Mason said dreamily. "Why are we here?"
Reyna scrunched her eyebrows. "'A place where all is forgotten'…" she muttered. She shook her head, and made her way with Mason over to the bed, helping him down to sit upright against the headboard. She looked towards the cave entrance.
"I've heard of a place like this. Somewhere hidden away from the mortal world, existing everywhere and nowhere. An island imbued with magic to keep everything out or in." She stared out to the garden beyond the cave. "A prison."
"A prison?" Mason asked. "This place is pretty nice for a prison."
"It doesn't matter how nice it is," Reyna said, moving to search through the room. "If the prisoner can't escape. All the better to convince them to stay."
"So, we were sent here as prisoners?"
"Nemesis said she wouldn't kill us, but she needed us out of the picture. So she sent us here."
Mason huffed. "She seems like a fun one. I assume she's a goddess? Maybe of revenge, or hate, or something?"
"Partially," Reyna said as she looked through the drawers of a dresser. "Goddess of balance and retribution. So, eye for an eye, not hate for its own sake."
"And the other guy? Big shadow-monster?"
Reyna paused. "I don't know," she admitted. "I know that he spoke his name, back on Goat Island, but… I can't seem to remember. And in New York…"
"'A place where all is forgotten,'" Mason finished. "So, god of forgetfulness?"
"Not a god. A Giant. But in a way, maybe. The important thing right now is to figure out how to escape."
"Right, but… how? Didn't you say this place was a magic island? Even if we pulled a Castaway and made some kind of raft to sail away on, couldn't the magic just, like, bring us right back?"
"Theoretically, yes," Reyna said, her hand brushing against something in one of the drawers.
"So how do you know it's even possible to escape?"
Reyna pulled something out of the drawer and held it up in her hand. It was a worn, leather-bound journal with a string tied around it. "Because the person who used to live here did."
(|- - - - -[H]- - - - -|)
Hello, reader, whoever you are. I doubt anyone will ever read this, but in the unlikely case that I am wrong, I will provide an introduction as well as an explanation.
My name is Calypso, and I live in a magical place called Ogygia, the place that you may find yourself in as you read this. It is my prison, but it is also my home. The gods locked me here after they defeated my father, Atlas, in the Titanomachy, and I have resided here ever since. I cannot say how long it has been, not only because the island and I are outside of time, but also because I have not found it helpful to try to count the days. Eternity is frightening when one treats it as if it were temporary, but I keep myself occupied, and it lessens the resentment.
This is not the first record I have tried to keep. I have tried numerous times to be diligent in journaling, but I have always found it to be too painful a reminder of that looming eternity, and have discarded them. However, I think I will try a different approach with this one. Before, I would write only for myself, dreading the idea of anyone else seeing my thoughts and vulnerabilities. Now, though, I want to write for you. I am fairly confident I will never meet you, even if you manage to lay your eyes on this. I have no idea who you are, or why you have stumbled across this. I'm not sure it even matters if you exist. All I know is that the idea of someone reading my words excites me more than most things have in my time here, and I cannot pass up that rush.
Ogygia is a beautiful place, at least when you can forget its true nature for a moment. The fruits and herbs are exquisite, the flowers are unlike any other, and the landscape is breathtaking. I will admit I have grown numb of it, but there are still days I am able to drink it in with something akin to appreciation. The magic laid upon this place prevents me from ever aging, so even as my mind matures, my body remains the same, forever young and healthy. It will do the same to whoever resides here, though none have stayed long enough for them to see for themselves. Additionally, any who try to leave by ocean will always find themselves washed back ashore. I tried once, near the beginning, and have never tried again. There are unseen servants that tend to many things here, given to me as a gift by Hera. They are quite helpful, though at times I think they may be unnecessary, given that the work I do is one of my only day-to-day comforts.
Right now is one of the rare moments in which I've allowed myself to imagine that one day I will be free of this place. Thus, I will also imagine that you are here on Ogygia without me. If that is the case, please do enjoy my home as best you can. I cannot say what the state of the island and its magic will be if I am not there, so you will have to see for yourself. Who knows? Perhaps you will find what you are looking for here, one way or another.
(|- - - - -[H]- - - - -|)
For the rest of the day, Reyna took to surveying the area and trying to formulate at least the beginnings of a plan. She walked the circumference of the island, which didn't take too long, and looked out to see if she could spot any land mass or ship on the horizon. Of course, there was nothing but the blue expanse of water as far as she could see. The rest of the island was mostly just moderate hills and cedar trees, with the central garden and cave being the only real landmark. There was a creek trickling through a part of the forest, but that was about it.
Despite Reyna's fairly good survival knowledge, it occurred to her after a period of exploring that it probably wouldn't even be necessary. They already had food in abundance. The fountain in the garden seemed fairly clean and spouted fresh water, and they had the creek inland if that failed. The cave in the hill couldn't even really be called shelter – it was downright luxurious. There wasn't any sign of any creatures aside from some innocent birds, let alone any that would pose any danger to them.
So, as the sun began to set, Reyna made her way back to the cave, trying to think about what their next step was. However, every idea that she had quickly revealed itself as insufficient. They didn't have any drachmas to try to Iris-message, and even if they did, there was no guarantee it would even reach its recipient. They could wait for someone to arrive to take them away, god or otherwise, but that seemed similarly unlikely. She could pray to her mother, or Athena, or someone else for help, but yet again it might not even be heard, and gods were stingy on what they would respond to, anyway. Building some kind of raft seemed like one of the only feasible routes, but if there was still magic surrounding the island, it would be both unlikely to succeed and dangerous, and Reyna wasn't about to risk another person's life on what she already knew was a bad idea.
The thought that there might not be a way out began to creep into her mind, but she tried to push it away as she pushed aside the curtain to the cave.
Mason was stood in a corner of the room at a countertop near the cooking pot. He turned as she came in. "Hey, you're back," he said nonchalantly. "I was just cutting up some fruit. Want some?" He gestured to the counter with a knife he was holding to a small bowl of chopped fruit.
Reyna titled her head. "What are you doing out of bed? You should be resting."
He shrugged, and she noticed he was leaning against the counter. "It's honestly not that bad. I'm fine." As he spoke, he stood up from where he was leaning and reached out to the bowl, and then stumbled as his hands met it, flinging about half of its contents across the nearby cavern floor. He stared down at the scattered fruit slices for a moment before looking up to her with an awkward smile.
She raised her eyebrows. "Right. Come on," she said, reaching out to hold onto his arm. He let her lead him back to the bed, where he set his head down with a sigh. "I promise I'll be fine in the morning. It just gets bad sometimes."
Reyna nodded, sitting at the bottom of the bed, looking towards the small streaks of dusk light being let in from outside. After a quiet moment, she spoke. "I'm sorry."
Mason was silent for a moment. "I thought we weren't going to do this again? The apologizing thing."
"I know, but I still need to. You don't deserve this."
"What, being given a vacation?"
"No, silly, being imprisoned here. Getting caught up in all of this."
"Reyna," he said, and she looked at him. His eyes were intent on hers. "I chose this. To come with you. To do all of this. And now I know it was for a reason. This," he said, reaching over to grab the torch he had carried which was sitting on the bedside table. "was given to me because I chose to be a part of this. No one forced me to."
"That's part of the problem," she whispered, quiet enough for him not to hear.
"So don't feel bad for me, alright?"
Reyna nodded hesitantly, then decided to change the subject. "What is it?" she said, gesturing to the torch.
Mason explained that Hestia had given him the Olympic Torch, and how it could be used to save camp. She figured that she might be able to use it alongside her own powers to strengthen the sick campers enough to expel the curse. He also lamented the fact that he had let the Torch go out, and that he didn't know how to light it again.
The reminder of Camp Half-Blood and the knowledge of the Torch's abilities reignited her spirit. "I'm going to try to build something to get us out of here," Reyna said. "Maybe a raft of some kind."
Mason raised an eyebrow. "I thought that wouldn't work."
"I thought so at first, too. But if it's true that Calypso is gone, then I think some of the magic here might have gone with her, or it's been taken away because of her leaving. The journal mentioned invisible servants, and I haven't seen any evidence of them."
"Well, they are invisible," he said with a smirk. "But you're right, I haven't seen any dishes doing themselves."
"So what if the magic keeping in its prisoners has disappeared as well? Or at least weakened?"
Mason seemed hesitant. "And then we float until we find land? Where in the world even are we?"
"Do you have any better ideas?" She paused. "That was an honest question."
He ruffled his hair. "Not really. I feel like I need to figure out this Torch thing, though. Maybe if I can manage to light it, it would be of some use to us."
Reyna nodded, and they both sat in silence for a few minutes.
"I assume you're going to insist that I have the bed?" Mason said.
"You assume correctly."
"Could we at least promise to take turns, then?"
"If you can walk without me in the morning, I'll consider it."
Mason nodded. "Hey, maybe this is all just some kind of weird dream."
"I doubt it."
"We'll see when we wake up, I guess. The sun comes up and we're both just laying on the sidewalk in New York, or something."
Reyna looked at him absentmindedly. "Or something."
(|- - - - -[H]- - - - -|)
"Well, the sun's up," Mason said. "And we're still here."
(|- - - - -[H]- - - - -|)
So, as the sun came up in the morning, Reyna set out to work. She recalled what survival knowledge she could, deciding on a log raft tied together with makeshift rope. It was a tedious and strenuous process, especially since there didn't seem to be any already-dead vegetation to work with, so she had to do everything from scratch, from cutting down trees, to tying plant fibers into rope, to dragging everything to one spot. Her hands quickly became rough and calloused, and the sun beat down in moderate warmth, leaving her damp with sweat.
Mason did seem to be mostly fine after a night's rest, with his struggle in walking reducing to a pronounced limp. He had taken to exploring the meadow around the cave and the expansive garden it hosted, and eventually began tending to the plants as best he could. He had noted that he had some experience in gardening, both from some lessons he had learned from foster parents and teachers as well as some dabbling in it at his own house. Though he did point out with some fascination that there were some plants here that he had never seen before, even in textbooks.
Throughout their time in the island, both the state of Camp Half-Blood and the date of Camp Jupiter's attack on Tahoe loomed over her, pushing her to work harder every time she thought of the faces of all of the demigods at both camps. Regardless of the fact that she wanted to escape as soon as possible, the attack on Tahoe set a very specific time limit, which was just six days away now. Every hour spent here was an hour closer to when her friends needed her to lead them, as well as an hour that her other friends were suffering from sickness. Every blister, every cut, every ache in her muscles – it was all for them.
Soon enough, one full day passed. Then another. And another. Calypso had talked about not keeping track of time, but Reyna was keen to count every single day. It was made slightly easier to by the fact that Mason had developed a habit every morning of groggily noting that "the sun's up, and we're still here." It seemed like a way he was coping with everything, by injecting as much routine and normalcy as possible into their days. She didn't mind it. Even if they weren't interacting much, she still had the occasional thought that she was grateful she wasn't here alone.
Reyna and Mason did alternate who slept in the single bed, with the other usually either taking one of the more comfortable chairs or a spot on the floor with pillows and blankets. They shared meals with each other on occasion, but there were many times that she simply took some food with her out to where she was working on the raft. It was an arrangement she felt like she was fine with. It didn't really matter anyway; the only thing that did was getting back to Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter as soon as possible.
Then, a few days later, on the day just before Camp Jupiter's attack was planned, things fell apart.
Reyna had been making decent progress on the raft before, but doubt and desperation had begun to creep into her mind as the date had grown closer, and now it was at its peak. She hardly muttered a word to Mason before setting off to continue her labor of cutting branches off of trees and twisting fiber into rope, and continued to do so for the entire day. She didn't eat, and she only drank in brief bursts in-between tasks as she wiped the sweat from her forehead. There was no time left for anything other than complete focus and willpower. Even thought was pushed aside, leaving nothing but her hands and feet to go to work.
She only realized the sun had begun to set when a voice jarred her from her daze.
"Reyna!"
She turned to see Mason standing a few feet from her, holding a plate of food. He was wearing one of the sets of simple cotton shirts and pants he had found in the cave, which had fit relatively well. "I've been calling you for like a minute. You okay?"
She nodded, her breath heavy.
"Are you going to come in soon? It's getting pretty dark."
She shook her head, trying to get back to tying together two of the logs.
"Please? Have you eaten anything today?"
She said nothing, her hands still working. At least until her wrist was grabbed, and she turned to see Mason closer and holding her arm. "Reyna, you need to rest. What-" He looked down to her hand, which was blistered and bloodied, then to her eyes, his own filled with concern.
"What are you doing?"
Reyna wrenched her arm free. "What does it look like I'm doing?"
"It looks like you're working yourself to death."
She glared at him. "I am fine. Do you know who isn't? Everyone who's cursed at Camp Half-Blood."
He looked back at her intently, the last lights of the evening sun scattering bits of orange light across his face through the leaves above. "I know that, but you can't help them if you tear yourself apart like this."
"What do you want me to do, then?" she said, raising her arms up in frustration. "Sit back and let them suffer?"
"I am asking you," Mason said, spacing his words out clearly. "To take care of yourself. To pace yourself."
"There isn't any time left!" Reyna spat. "We have already been here too long, and tomorrow-" Her throat tightened, a sob rising up in her. "Tomorrow, my friends need me," she said more quietly. "If I'm not there…"
"I'm sure they'll be fine," Mason said in a gentle tone. "Right?"
She was quiet for a moment, breathing heavily through her nose. She didn't want to believe him, but somewhere in her mind she did. She trusted Frank, as well as the rest of the campers, to do what they needed to do. Still, it was excruciating and even embarrassing for her not to be there with them, leading them and lending her strength.
"Now can we go back?"
Reyna shook her head. "I need to keep going on this."
"Reyna, please." He paused as he searched her face. "I'm not asking you. You need to rest."
She looked at him with narrowed eyes. "I don't need to do anything."
He met her stare with his own. "You're tired, you're hungry, you're stressed, and you're clearly not able to see just how much you are destroying yourself. So yes, you need to. I am telling you that you need to."
Her emotions boiled up inside of her as she took a step towards him. "And what gives you the authority to tell me what I need? How could you possibly have any understanding of me, and what my limits are? Do you think that somehow, now that you were the one given something to help, that suddenly you know everything about me, and what it takes, and what it means to sacrifice?"
Mason stared at her with wide eyes as she spoke, and she saw him gulp.
"You have been at this for barely a week," she continued. "And you think that gives you the ability, or even the right, to try and tell me what is and isn't too much for me to handle?"
She felt the words continue out like the uncontrollable flood of a breaking dam. "Do you know what I think? I think that you need me to rest. You can't withstand the sight of anyone enduring even a little bit of pain, even if it's completely necessary, and you would rather sabotage any real effort just to get the self-centered relief of seeing someone comfortably safe from any real problems in the world. It's not about them, it's about you, and your unwillingness to accept reality. Well, guess what? Some problems require blood and sweat to solve. Though I wouldn't expect you of all people to understand that."
Reyna didn't meet his eyes, turning her back on him before she could see his expression. A moment of silence passed.
"I'm not coming back tonight," she said breathily, tightening a rope. "So don't bother waiting for me."
A few seconds later she heard footsteps, and she made a point not to hurt herself by turning and watching him go.
(|- - - - -[H]- - - - -|)
Well, yet again, a hero has washed up onto my shore. Except that 'hero' is a completely unfitting term for him, and he did not wash up as much as he crash-landed with a disastrously disruptive explosion, obliterating my favorite outdoor dining table. I am convinced that the gods have somehow found in themselves an even greater hatred for me. Why else would they send this filthy runt of a boy to me?
It almost pains me to describe him, but I feel like I must, in order to portray just how much of an insult his appearance here is. He is loud, obnoxious, and altogether committed to being as annoying as possible. He has a face that somehow garners both rage and pity from inside me, as it is clear he thinks that he has a trick up his sleeve at all times, yet still manages to look befuddled all the while. His dark hair is as chaotic as the rest of him, and there is a layer of dirt and grease on his skin at all times, emitting a terrible odor that I have never experienced before in all my time here. I fear if he walks too close to my flowers they will begin to wilt.
The worst part, though? The boy is arrogant. He believes wholeheartedly that 'every problem has a fix,' and has the audacity to try and convince me of that after all the years I have been trapped here. What could a measly boy like him understand about real problems? Even now I think he is out there banging away at some rocks, trying to come up with something that could circumvent the impossible situation he's fallen into.
But no, this is a problem without a solution. A lock whose key does not even exist. The thought that he may be stuck here for as long as I is a punishment worse than any other. He does not belong here, and yet he is trapped here.
I only hope that we can manage to maintain our distance, otherwise I am not sure I could withstand even a day with him here, being a reminder not only of our impossible predicament, but also of the fact that I have lost companions much better than him. I have been left before, by heroes I could not help but feel affection for. At least this time that is impossible.