In a world of confusion, there was always knowledge there to comfort Annabeth. Always. It was consistently there. Knowledge didn't betray you. It never strayed from your mind as people strayed from your life. It was unfailing. Unchanging. Persistent. Never did it leave her. On her quests, at "home", that awful place with her father, stepmother and half-brothers, at camp, everywhere she went, her knowledge went with her. That was more than she could say for anything or anyone else. Luke. He was with her, but not with her. This fact on its own confused people enough to drive them to the point of breaking down completely. But knowing something—a monster, a building, anything—was more certain than anything else. Like the foundation of a great building, it was forever there, keeping her from falling apart. It was the thing keeping her from collapsing painfully, tragically onto the cold, hard, unforgiving ground.

"Scythian dracaena," she said clearly into the Iris Message to Percy, who should be better with his myths by now. "That's what you saw. Snake woman, you said, right?"

The boy nodded, and his black hair fell toward his eyes, becoming even messier than before, something that was hardly thought possible by anyone (particularly Annabeth and his mother). "That's right."

Annabeth couldn't help but smile inwardly at his reply. (It wasn't that it was his reply, obviously. She would have rather been talking to someone else than this stupid Son of Poseidon. It would have most likely been a more pleasant conversation had it been with someone aside from him.) "I assume you can take it, if it comes your way," she assured him somewhat truthfully.

She wasn't sure, but she swore she saw that strange combination of a grin and a frown on the boy's face. He mumbled something softly. Maybe it was her imagination, but she thought there was a sort of laughter to be heard in his strange mutterings, making it even less understandable. "She always knows," she decided was what Percy had said, though she wasn't sure of it.

"Sorry?" she asked innocently, as if she hadn't heard a thing from the Son of Poseidon.

"Have you ever met a monster you couldn't name?" he smiled.

Annabeth wondered if the annoying boy was teasing her or admiring her. He was Percy, after all. She chose not to respond. Just to be safe.

There was a pause.

"Well, thanks. Just in case it attacked me or something." He chuckled lightly, interrupting the thought. "Y'know. So I can say 'Oh, no! I'm going to get killed by a monster! But I'll get killed sounding smart—'"

"That would be the least likely death for you. You think you'll sound intelligent when you die? You can hardly manage that normally."

"Shut up," he told her, despite the fact that he laughed at her interruption. "Anyway, as I was saying, before you rudely interrupted, I could be all, 'It's a Scythian dracaena. My friend told me what it was called, acted like I could fight it off, when as a matter of fact, I can't."

"Whatever, Percy. If that's all you wanted, I suppose we should be saying goodbye; I can't afford to be spending several more drachmas than I should on an IM with you that lost its point ages ago, seeing as you don't seem to care about hearing the myth. I might have to contact camp."

"Okay. 'Spose I appreciate your help and all. Bye," he finished, and slashed through the mist, getting rid of their connection.

Another plus, Annabeth was reminded by this incident, was how useful knowledge was. It had saved her life and her friends' lives countless times. Just knowing the name of the monster and a little bit of the myth could save them. Usually, she knew more than that, seeing as it was more useful to have plenty of facts, but any piece helped. If the name came to her mind, she would almost certainly live. As long as she could recall the myth, she was safe (assuming Annabeth had the proper supplies to handle the beast she was faced with). Her constant companion was also a life-saver.

"Oh," Percy said stupidly, "I get it now."

"Sure. Well, the myth goes like this:" Annabeth went on and on about whatever monster it was and how the hero of the myth defeated the monster. She would tangle her fingers through each other, or brush a curly blond piece of hair that had fallen from her ponytail away thoughtfully. She would get caught up in the story, hardly aware of the little movements she made. The myth was the only thing on her mind for the few pleasant minutes it took her to describe it. "So," she concluded, coming out of the tale, back into their own situation, "that's how you defeat it."

Usually, whatever plan she had used from the story worked, and once again her brain had gotten them out of a bad situation. It wasn't luck that kept her alive all these years; it was her wisdom.

It was very possibly the thing she loved most in the world. The pride that fell over her when he knew the answer, the solution, was impossible to top. It couldn't be beaten. Knowing exactly how something could be fixed was her idea of perfection.

In a world of uncertainty, it was nice to know the answers to some things. Even if it was just the name of a monster, it helped. Even if it was just how many years it took to construct a building. Even if it was the smallest fact, the most minuscule piece of information, it made her feel safe. It made her feel like there was some sort of security in the world. No matter minor her solution was, it made Annabeth feel like she could fix something bigger. It made her feel like she could fix this chaos that they were all in. Maybe everyone could stop drowning in all the problems of Olympus, stop being destroyed by the negativity. Maybe she could be the one to save everyone from the bitter war. Maybe, with these little bits of knowledge, she could save everyone.

AN: This took forever to get on here. There may be some issues with it because I had it written when I first started this collection, but I never got around to it until now. The second to last blurb-like paragraph thing was actually inspired by some totally unrelated thing I was working on for myself. Hopefully, this was somewhat decent. Hm...
-Lexi