A/N Ugh…I really should have put the meeting with Nao on the first chapter. Then the last chapter would be longer and this one wouldn't be so long.

This fiction will start off loosely based on G1, but there will be noticeable differences and a complete derailment around chapter five or six.

It was over one year ago that I finished my last fic…my rate's not looking too good.

Hmm…my Beta Reader seems to have gone MIA.

As always, enjoy.

Disclaimer: Percy Jackson and the Olympians belongs to Rick Riordan and Mabinogi belongs to Nexon. I own absolutely nothing in relation to either works, except for the idea to mesh them together.

Dark finally gave way to light.

It wasn't a gradual effect. One moment everything was pitch black, the next I was almost blinded by the sharpness of the white, like someone turned on a switch to a giant blank room. Except, there was no giant switch, and I wasn't in a room.

As I was pondering this, suddenly I touched down. Softly, too. It didn't make sense – I've been falling way too long for a landing to not jar my knees. And besides which, wasn't I falling headfirst?

A moment later, Annabeth appeared beside me. Don't ask me how; I didn't see it happen.

"Where did Apollo learn to do that?" she muttered. "And where are we?"

I took a look around. It was still all white now, even the sky. We were standing on a sort of weirdly-shaped platform that reminded me a bit of Olympus's throne room, but only in how majestic it seemed. This one had the design of some kind of knot on it. Two owls were flying overhead, hooting occasionally – did Athena have something to do with this? I could also hear the constant whisper of a wind.

Cautiously Annabeth and I ended up back to back, the way people do in movies when they're surrounded or if they don't know what's about to happen. I scanned my one-eighty degrees, seeing nothing but white sky and, if it was possible, even whiter structure.

Then someone cleared her throat behind me. It wasn't my girlfriend.

"Ah!" Twisting around, Riptide erupted from its normal state and I held it out as I skidded away. My peripheral vision confirmed Annabeth was right beside me in a similar stance, so I focused back to the threat.

And then my jaw dropped open.

Because standing right in front of me, showing mild interest and fond affection, was a girl a little older than Annabeth, sporting an elegant length of white hair and a beautiful long black dress that showed a little more figure than I was comfortable with, with some kind of charm wrapped around her middle.

And she is the hottest babe I've ever seen in my life.

If she could hear that thought Annabeth is so going to kill me.

Chapter Two –

I Hustle a Snowman for its Gold Earring

In the ten seconds it took for me to shake that daze off by the inevitable slapping of my face, blue lost all rights and privileges as my favourite colour. Now it's a two-way tie between white and black.

And they were both a magnificent sight.

The only things I've seen with white hair are comic book characters, one or two monsters, and that old lady from Grade Five who kept whacking my behind with her cane, so I never really got to see it in such a brilliant light. This girl's locks were graceful, they were lustrous, and they shined like clouds or vanilla ice cream or the down of an angel's wing. They captivated my eyes, like a slow-motion movie of smoothly breezing white, more beautiful and more natural than those hair shampoo commercials that never actually used the products they were advertising – and I felt I could do this for an eternity. If I could live forever, I would do this for an eternity.

But the black dress was vying for just as much space in my mind. From the bottom that was really just cozy flaps partially hiding her pale slender legs to the charm wrapped around her waist to the torso area (which I had enough dignity to only skim through) and finally to the way it broke off by her bare neck, that was all a gorgeous work of art. A masterpiece of tailoring, a first place finisher in the Olympics of tailoring. It was the kind of clothes that very few people in the world should have skills to make.

I voiced my mind. "That's a nice dress."

That's what earned me the slap from the daughter of Athena. "Focus!"

"Ow!"

Annabeth directed her knife back at the white-haired girl. "Who are you?"

The girl smiled. "My name is Nao Mariota Pryderi," she chirped, and then took a small formal bow. "Pleased to meet you!"

She seemed like a nice girl. I guess I could say hello, introduce myself, and ask what she was doing here, but remembering my little scene with Rachel, instead I chose to interject one overly passive comment: "That's a cute name."

I learned three things: Annabeth didn't think that comment was passive, Annabeth didn't dare risk letting go of her knife, and for supposedly invincible shins, oh ow, her kick hurt.

"A-are you okay?" The girl – Nao – now turned flustered and concerned.

"Yes," Annabeth snapped, "and what do you want?"

Nao looked uncertainly at me for a moment, but decided to indulge Annabeth. "I am a guide for people brought into the Soul Stream from other worlds," she said proudly. "I welcome you to Erinn!"

'Oh!'

"Erinn?" Annabeth asked dubiously.

"Annabeth, the first line! 'Stride into the silent stream of souls' –"

"Which is information you don't need to give!" Annabeth hissed.

Well. That's a good point. I took a more thorough analysis of Nao. She doesn't look like she has any weapons, hidden or not, but I've had my fair share of females-turning-into-monsters. Though Nao did seem too pretty for that…

On another note, Annabeth keeps making the rookie mistake of taking her eyes off a potential enemy. Usually she wouldn't be that unfocused, except, as if the ghostly feeling on my lips weren't enough of a reminder, she thinks I just cheated on her. Purposely by accident. She keeps giving meaningful glares at me, as if she wants me to…what? Never again have any contact with a person of the opposite gender?

For now though, I faked being ignorant on her pointed stares, giving her a face that said "Huh?" Well, I hoped it said that, and not something like "Watch this! I'm going to hit on her!"

Since I'm faking not knowing what she's trying to tell me, I introduced ourselves. "Uh...hi." Cue a little wave that made me feel stupid, so I put it down quickly. "I'm, uh, Percy, and this is my girlfriend, Annabeth."

Her glare became a little less pointed, which was a welcome relief, so I figured I was safe for the next question. "What kind of a place is Erinn?"

For having a knife still pointed at her, Nao seemed totally at ease. Maybe that should've brought up warning signs, but she began explaining, and that thought was driven from mind. "Erinn is a place to live your life to the fullest. There are many kinds of occupations in this world, including carpenters, cooks, blacksmiths, animal tamers, potion makers, healers, explorers, hunters and dungeoneers. It is a peaceful place, with lots of different environments, from the aesthetic towns in the continent of Uladh to the wilder beauties of the continent of Iria. And –" here Nao straightened proudly – "with the blessing of my goddess Morrighan, otherworlders may choose to rebirth any time they are older than twenty, letting them experience their lives over and over again."

Over…and over again? "No way!"

"Impossible." Annabeth said in that impassive tone of hers. "No way someone's this generous."

"It's not like Zeus hasn't given immortality to heroes," I pointed out.

"He doesn't offer it to almost everyone who comes along."

"They might not have that many visitors," I suggested, though I turned back to glance at Nao. "Right?"

Nao beamed. "Actually, we get a lot of visitors each year."

"Oh." 'Huh…wonder why…'

The stupid side of my brain thought, 'Maybe because they were attracted to Nao?'

'Shut up. How would they know her before they came here anyways?'

'…Advertisements for Erinn?'

Nao giggled.

"There aren't any other conditions, are there?" Annabeth suspiciously asked.

"No! Any otherworlders who turn twenty may choose to rebirth at anytime after that, though –"

"I knew there was a catch."

"Though people who have contributed to this world may choose to rebirth earlier," Nao finished, grinning.

"Oh."

I covered up her interruption quickly, moving on to, "Why did Annabeth and I come here? Aren't we here to help someone?"

Nao's smile faded a little bit. "Yes," she admitted, "not everything is as it should be. You see, there is a race called the Fomors living in Erinn, and for many centuries, they have been disrupting the otherwise peaceful life of our residents."

She actually walked to the edge of the platform we were on, and as my eyes followed her, I had to admit that made me a little nervous. I don't know where we were, but I'm sure we're up really high.

Nao brushed some of the hair that was in her face away, letting it float brilliantly in the wind, before she continued, "The Fomors, led by their god Cichol, had been enemies of the people of Erinn from the beginning, at times even coming to outright war." She peered over to the scene below, as if she can actually see the land of Erinn and what was going on there, though I could still see nothing but white. "When I was first born, this place had been so much quieter, so much more tranquil, and today…there are battles daily."

"So we just have to beat this god and everything would be fine again?" I asked.

"That would make sense," Annabeth muttered, quietly. "'Evil crown' and 'Goddess not your own' from the prophecy could refer to the two entities Cichol and Morrighan."

Nao smiled at her, and I felt actual surprise when Annabeth didn't brandish her knife again. "Not quite. Fomors are dangerous, but they're not something the average adventurer can't handle. What I had in mind for you involved some specialty work, something to better suit your strength and wisdom, and something no one else can do."

"You asked for us?" Annabeth exclaimed.

At the same time: "Specialty work?" I asked. It brought into my mind an image of Beckendorf calibrating his bronze dragon, or my mother editing her novel, and for some reason, the book "How to Pick Up Girls in Five Syllables or Less that I was planning to give to Nico..

Nao flushed, though I don't know why. "Yes, I am the one who asked for help, though I didn't specify who. As for what you need to do…" She pulled out a letter from nowhere, and I mean nowhere, because there were no pockets I could see on her dress or stockings…and no, she didn't seem like a person to put stuff in more, um, unconventional storage spaces. She must've noticed my expression because she flushed again. "Give this to Chief Duncan of Tir Chonaill, a small town that you'll go to soon. He can show you around the town and explain how things work in the village, if you wish to know."

"Umm…okay." Annabeth grabbed the letter, tucking it into a pocket of her jeans.

"Is there anything else you wanted to ask?" Nao smiled pleasantly.

The first thing that came to my mind: "What's your story?"

All of a sudden I freaked. I felt like a rabbit under the towering figure of a lion, and my spine shivered, and I actually staggered for a second. I shot a quick glance at my left, tightening my reassuring grip on Riptide. Annabeth simply looked straight forward.

A giggle escaped from Nao. "Something about me? Well…"

She reached her hand up, and suddenly one of the owls alighted on her wrist, fluttering its wings for a moment before closing them and settling down. Nao brought her hand back down and petted the barn owl. "This is my owl, Petrock," she explained. "He's been with me for many years, almost since I started working for my Lady Morrighan. He's usually the one I send down to check up on people having a little difficulty settling in in Erinn." Petrock – weird enough name – took off again and Nao continued, "Most of the owls you'll see down on Erinn work as messengers, carrying Owl Scrolls for adventurers."

Annabeth scowled. "Messengers?"

Being the daughter of Athena and all, I guess she might get angry about the fact they were working under humans, but Nao nodded in an assuring manner. "They are intelligent, they are fast, and most importantly, they don't mind. And –" she said this quickly, because Annabeth tried to interrupt – "it's not very different from what demigods call Iris-messages. Both Iris and the owls are paid, and both take their jobs only when they are free and willing."

I'm not sure if there's a good argument against that, but Annabeth looked like she was about to try, so I moved on. "What's Owl Scrolls?" Annabeth gave me another of those looks. Was she angry at me? Oh, wait, duh.

"They are the scrolls carried by the owls contain several types of messages such as job requests, quests, or notices. You could just be hanging out, doing nothing, and an owl would suddenly appear and drop a scroll on your head. I am pretty sure you will receive your share of scrolls, too."

"Oh. Cool."

"Anything else?" Nao smiled again.

"Um, don't think so…" I glanced at my girlfriend, but she looked away like she liked the sky better than me. Right now, she probably did. "I think we're ready to go."

"Then, I have one last thing to ask you about." Nao straightened to her full height, eyes suddenly shining, and asked excitedly in voice at least five years younger, "What do you think about gifts?"

…

"Excuse me?" That was Annabeth's stunned voice.

Nao immediately looked mortified. "Oh I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to pry!"

"No," I quickly replied, "we were just surprised." 'And,' I thought to myself, 'she's definitely a goddess. It must be all goddess' trait to have that age-changing mind-screwing mentality…' "We love giving and getting gifts. Like, isn't that the reason Christmas rules with an iron fist?" I hope I didn't sound sarcastic.

Nao beamed again. "Really? I looooove to exchange gifts with others, too!" She gave a little cough and shyly elaborated, "I can tell from the gift how the other person really thinks of me."

"That's great," I said, grinning. "What do you usually get?"

"Mostly rare dresses. It's astounding how many adventurers can get! Sometimes I feel a little guilty because I have more than one set of most dresses." Nao sighed again, but then she (somewhat mischievously?) asked me, "What do you usually get for presents?"

"There isn't anything particular. New shields, movies, birthday cakes, and once even my hellhound's dog doo. The only thing in common is that everything is connected to blue." I frowned. "Even the dog doo."

Nao laughed, though she tried to cover it. "Everything you receive has to be blue? Oh, that's too bad. My gift won't be acceptable, then?"

"What? No, it's fine," I said quickly, "I'd be happy with anything you give me."

I heard a small hiss behind me and pointedly decided to ignore it.

"That's great! In that case –" and at that point two somethings fell out of the sky straight into her waiting hands, and she eagerly pushed them towards us. "One for both of you! I hope you'll like it!"

Annabeth took hers quickly, checking it out while I was still fumbling to see what it really was. Her voice changed from possibly stony to impressed. "Wow. Are these hand-made?"

And then I finally got to look at it proper. It was one of those belt pouches, the one that can strap around your waist and rested around the hips. This one was actually a bit smaller than the ones I had seen before, being a little thin and short, but more importantly, by the way it was designed it actually allowed for mobility. It had several pockets and a big one that could fit anything the size of ambrosia crackers and nectar vials and ziplocked change and bandages to pepper spray and small daggers, if necessary. I even liked how it looked, being almost completely black except for the white buttons and one white horizontal line that ran along the lower part of the bag, beneath the multiple pockets and pouches, as well as a symbol on the centre that – I did a double take to make sure – exactly matched the insignia we were standing on right now.

All in all, a really cool, useful present. Much better than I would have expected.

"Thank you, Nao," I told her excitedly, almost as giddy as a five-year old, but also sincerely. "I wish we brought something to give you in return."

Nao only smiled at Annabeth (who was already strapping it on and marveling at its comfort) and I. For a moment our eyes met each other, and something jolted through before I blinked and she backed off apologetically.

I think she was thinking, 'My present is you.'

From the abnormal chill right behind me, I could tell my love life just tripped into a volcano again.

But then Nao smiled in that radiant way of hers. "It was a pleasure to meet you."

Annabeth had the courtesy to say, "Nice to meet you too," before I thought up of it.

"On that note, I wish you luck!"

And with that comment, Nao concentrated, and floated. The time it took for my eyes to bulge out at that was enough to encase my vision with light, sending me back to that lovely falling feeling.

So this time I turned up in some kinda grassy meadow, with a forest surrounding it. It was hard to tell where this place is, but I'm sure we're in Erinn now. The wind was blowing a little more softly here than in the Soul Stream, but with all the trees and grass the noise it was making was way louder. At this point I'd bet even Mrs. O' Leary would be able to sneak up on me without trying.

Then I realized Annabeth wasn't here.

Well, no sooner had I thought that did something crash into my shoulder, and while it didn't hurt, it was very uncomfortable a few seconds later when I was sprawled on the ground and Annabeth was practically sitting on me.

"Sorry," she said, not sounding very sorry at all. "I missed."

"Missed?" was my reply, except with the ground muffling me I think I, um, implied that she went to the bathroom. Whoops.

"You think?" she snapped. I think she was about to start a rant, but then I raised my head and clarified. "I was up on a tree scouting," she explained curtly and coldly, which actually pained me.

"Look…Annabeth, I'm really sorry about Rachel. It was a complete accident. I promise I won't go willingly kissing anyone else again."

That one came out much better than I had hoped, but I felt a foot cuff my head when I finished, which reminded me of the time her shoes used my face as a step for rock climbing. I definitely preferred that now.

"That wasn't your fault," Annabeth somewhat grudgingly murmured, "so I can forgive you this time." Then her voice hardened. "And the other girl?"

Oh, crud. She really thought I had it for Nao. Truthfully, I did, for the first forty seconds after meeting her, but after I gained a somewhat resistance against her beauty, I found I really did see her only as a – well, a friend, I suppose, though I hadn't known her for long. But how do I convey that to Annabeth?

"You were ogling her."

Okay, this I had to defend. "I was not!"

"You were staring at her body with more attention than a hungry cat watching a mouse."

That was a weird foil. Or maybe it was an allegory? "I was…just staring at her dress!"

"And why exactly were you paying attention to a dress?"

Now, I could've said "It was almost perfectly made, you have to agree on that" or "We should've hired the guy who made it for Mom's wedding", but in my attempt to say something derogatory my stupid mouth said out loud the worst possible answer: "Whoever made it messed up on the top, it was so tight her chest…" And only then did I clamp my mouth shut.

This is probably where I should deviate to mention that last Christmas, Rachel had gotten a full art kit for Annabeth. A full girl's art kit, including a set of bright pink permanent markers, stencils of hearts, flowers, rainbows, and the Barbie logo, and most potent of all – nail stickers. This should usually have not been a problem, except Annabeth actually opted to keep most of it in her small pouch of supplies, all the time. When I asked why, I was returned a sweet smile that looked too much like an expression of sadistic enjoyment. The next morning I had shown up to the stables not knowing what was so funny until Blackjack finally broke down and told me I had pink bunnies in permanent marker drawn on my cheeks.

So at the first feeling of something cold touching the back of my neck, I promptly discarded all pride as a man. I shrieked, "OHMYLORDZEUSSAVEME! PINKBUNNIES!"

And that's when the most unexpected, yet the most welcomed, thing occurred.

"Get a room!" a young voice snapped.

Okay, maybe not that welcome.

I managed to tilt one eye at the voice, which was coming from my right, and saw a boy with his head completely covered in a metal helmet with a metal dragon like the cold, hard, immobile and evil twin of Mushu on top, in addition to a green scarf, white sweater, and green pants. And he was probably eight years old?

"What?" I managed in pained tones.

Apparently that's all the hint the kid needed to blow up, because what came out next was "Do not give me that, young man! You two may have been a special case, but keep your bonding session somewhere else, stop breeding like rabbits, and get married in a place someone actually cares!"

As red-faced as I was, there was one good thing that came out of it: Annabeth immediately got off of me, leaving me to stand. She didn't look at me, though that was probably because she was just as mortified as I was at the deceivingly innocent kid.

And it was definitely disturbing. (He didn't even mention marriage before, uh,mentioning the rabbits, unlike a good little boy.) "Aren't you a little young to be talking about Health class?" I asked, trying to keep the embarrassment of actually asking that to a kid out of my voice.

"Not Health class," the boy sighed, "soap operas. Avon had such masterpieces in the past twenty years, but these years, Lanier and Marlowe are ruining their predecessors' work! They can't come up with anything original – just the other day –" and here he turned at us, like we were the embodiments of bad authors and I could imagine his eyes blazing like Ares' – "their production Affairs in the Perilous Ruins had two overused instances of miscarriage breakdown, five extra instances of infidelity, and one overly disgusting section reflecting on the differences between human and gnoll anatomy! Shamefully uncreative, I say!"

"Gnolls?" I looked at Annabeth questioningly, though for some reason she was as green as a leaf that was trying to vomit. Then the anatomy comment hit. "Right. Soap operas. Good to know what cleans the body scars the mind."

The kid managed out a small laugh. "And good to know your brain exists, contrary to my initial opinion. Although I must suppose the lass here, being the daughter of the wisdom goddess, will never bother with a retarded child."

If I didn't notice anything before, I did now. The kid was talking way more formal than an eight year old should be, curiously enough.

Speaking of curiosity, it's really not a good idea to have it and ADHD at the same time. It can land you in really awkward positions. Luckily, even though the kid seemed to be bad-tempered, it didn't happen now, when I asked, "How old are you, exactly?"

The kid snorted. "I honestly do not know. I am too old to count if I have a hundred hands."

"Uh," was all I had to say. 'A god?' was what I thought.

On the other hand, Annabeth finally looked at the kid in the fac – helmet. "Rebirth?" she asked intently.

Oh yeah. Now I remember what Nao was talking about.

"Yes. I am one of Nao's few friends, to help her to guide the souls who wander in."

"But why are you acting like an old man?"

"Obviously because I used to be an old man until a few weeks ago."

"And also obviously," Annabeth pointed out, "you're not one now. At this point you probably stick out more than we do."

"I have no real need to blend in, but if it would humour you…" Tin sort of coughed, and then he held out a hand. "The name's Tin. And I know both o' ya. Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase."

"Nice to meet you…" Since I was offered the hand, I shook it, and then the kid/old man slapped a sword into it. "Huh?"

"Tradition," Tin explained. "All newbies get a darn decent weapon to begin their adventure with. Her name is Eiry, and she's at your beck and call, man, if you ever need a prod on fighting or directions."

That was another odd thing to say, but it was explained when the sword told me that she'll try her best.

No, it did not suddenly grow a mouth and say –

Wait a minute.

In front of my eyes, a little girl simply hopped out from my hands like she was the sword all along – and she probably was. The wings are her most obvious characteristic, but there were others – the books she hugged tightly, her pointy ears, the greenish hair, and the dress that was styled similarly to Nao, except the smaller dress's sleeve draped back over the girl's shoulder. And while I was processing all this, she complained to Tin, "Great, now you've given me a mentally handicapped Master!"

"Be nice, gal," the visored kid scolded, and then seemed to think the better of it, because he said to me, "ask the old man to show you to the Healer's."

I scowled at him, though I wasn't sure if the thick front of the helmet would let him see my face. "Well, excuse me. My home had a lack of pixies zooming around and babbling their heads off."

"What?" said pixie cried indignantly. "I'm not a pixie, I'm an ego!"

"Yes, you're a right little egomaniac."

"Agh!" the girl puffed out her cheeks. "You have no right to say that, you, you…"

This was unfortunately the point Annabeth stepped in. "Seaweed Brain?" she supplied.

"Seaweed Brain!" the pixie yelled triumphantly.

"Annabeth!"

"What?" she shrugged. "You have something to call her, so she should have something to call you."

"But –"

"Hey," Tin interrupted, "spat all you want, but remember, no excessive Frenches and nothing that should be done on a bed here."

My face and, somewhat to my delight, Annabeth's face both coloured up.

Tin offered me a sheath, which I took, but then he had to add: "You know which end goes in, right?"

I scowled at him, pointedly snapping the sword into the cover, albeit harder than was absolutely necessary. Eiry didn't disappear, unfortunately.

"Good to know. And one more thing: usually I have the newbs kill raccoons with Eiry to get them used to brawling –" Annabeth looked like she was about to call the Humane Society, and then she must have remembered where she was, because she muttered something not nice – "I've ears, Annabeth. Anyways, that's just insulting both of yo' prowess, so you need ta challenge something wicked. You can go right afta' heading down this trail, meet the Light Gargoyles, and stuff five of them in the dust."

Light Gargoyles were named aptly. The first things I noticed are the machetes, and then from then the imagine of a gargoyle fit in: hunched over back, long neck, rock-hard looking skin, three fingers and three toes, and the large, imposing wings that made it seem three times bigger than it actually was. One Light Gargoyle growled at me, and I could see its long, yellow teeth just waiting to be brushed. Er, tear me apart.

Then I learned that the Light Gargoyles are pitifully overrated, when in the next five seconds the same dentally challenged monster was bleeding to death from a weak point on its shoulder and the others were backing away. One got brave and charged, but Annabeth simply rolled her eyes, stepped in between, parried the wild swing and just stuck her knife in its eye.

It really went downhill for the Fomors (if they really were Fomors – Eiry said so, but I'm not fully committed to trusting her yet). The last three decided to gang up together on us, which was a bad move. Reason one: my skin's invincible. Somehow Annabeth can make me reel, but in battle, nothing's going to stand in my way, period. Reason two: my reaction time. Honestly, at how fast these things move when one tries to hit me chances are I already gut it three times over. And reason three? Actually, I forget that one, but I didn't need a third reason by the time all three of them had gaping holes in the various fleshy parts of their body.

The last one wasn't my kill, though; it was Annabeth's, who had slit the heart of that gargoyle from behind. As the creature croaked one last time, slumped over, and vanished in a puff of dark smoke, she glanced down at her knife. "How are we able to kill these creatures?"

I blinked. "Huh?" I asked, sounding real smart.

"Our weapons are Celestial bronze, Percy. It shouldn't be able to affect animals."

That was a thought that didn't occur to me before.

"Prolly because they're Fomors," Tin yawned behind me, strutting down to us lazily. "The way I see it, your weapons only affect the magic side of your world. Fomors control these creatures through magic, so it works on everything in Uladh.

I frowned, but Annabeth beat me to the question. "How do you know so much about our world?" she suspiciously asked.

"Nao."

"Figures," my girlfriend muttered darkly.

"How much do you know?" I asked.

"More than I care for, and more than I needed. Oh, and here." Tin quickly abused my personal bubble, popped open my pack and pushed something into it, and then closed the pocket.

I bit back my complaints, and I didn't bother looking at what he gave me. Instead I said, "That doesn't answer the question."

"It doesn't need to." Here Tin waved his hand.

"But –" I started to say, though by that time both Tin and the path below me had disappeared, somehow dumping us inside a – well, what do you know? – a graveyard. "Okay, that's just creepy. Why did he dump us to a place where zombies could be?"

"Percy, there's no such thing as a zombie."

"We've just seen Gargoyles, Annabeth."

"Yes, but those are mythological creatures. Zombies, on the other hand, are reanimated corpses, which fits in a different category and thus, is not possible."

"I still say they exist," I muttered.

The daughter of Athena rolled her eyes. "In another world, maybe."

Then something went skit.

That made me jump a little more than I'd admit, but I brandished Riptide bravely. Annabeth must've seen my startled reaction because she muttered "Why him, again?" before glancing over at the sound.

Skit, skit, skit...

Almost funnily, I was growing less scared with each second. It's not that I thought it was any less dangerous, or any less frightening-looking, but I suddenly had the feeling that Annabeth should be more scared than I, like I knew what I was coming. I didn't, though, and while I tried to figure it out…

The thing that was making the sound popped into view from behind a grave marker.

Predictably, Annabeth screamed louder than the maximum volume of Goode High School's PA system. And for those who haven't been there that day when the principal spilled coffee on it and glitched the system, that's pretty darn loud.

Luckily enough, the old guy in a greenish vest whose house was the closest to the graveyard, just down the hill, was someone who was able and willing to help. He apparently heard the screams, and it also helped that when he asked what was wrong, I proudly told him, "Arachnophobia." (It was the longest word I knew that I could pronounce properly.)

He led us, with me practically carrying Annabeth, into his house, where there were a couple of chairs and a table inside. The whole house was actually made of wood – the walls, the ceiling, the railings, the steps, and I think that's even a completely wooden faucet and sink I'm seeing. It's official – we're not in Kansas, camp, or Olympus' dance floor anymore.

"There's not much I can do for phobias," he told us as I set Annabeth, who was mumbling something rapidly, into a chair, "but I know something that might calm her." He started rummaging around his cupboard and pulled out – guess what? – some tea bags, and some cups. What's with it with old men and their obsession with tea?

"How did those spiders get that big?" I asked. I could barely crush its body with my foot, and it was disgusting besides, so I had to resort to cutting it in half, which left nasty stuff on my blade. So I used Eiry to cut down the rest of the ones that swarmed us. She was really not happy.

The man chuckled. "So you have only recently arrived here?" He poured hot water into the cup from a beaker above his fireplace and plopped the tea bags into them, starting to swirl each cup. "Don't worry, they've always been that big. In fact, many are bigger. If you go to the end of Alby dungeon, for instance, you'll meet a giant red spider that is several times your size."

Annabeth whimpered. The old man quickly gave her a cup and she drank deeply, probably scalding her tongue and probably not caring. She sighed, and she didn't look as pale as she was.

The old man finally introduced himself. "I am Chief Duncan, and welcome to the small town of Tir Chonaill. My sincerest apologies for the unpleasant memories on your first visit here."

"It's okay…I guess." It only struck me then how normal(ish) our conversation was. Just two kids and an old man. Usually, in one of my other quests it'll be two or three kids, probably one a satyr, listening to the monologues of a monster that happened to not want to eat us yet or a god in disguise. Actually, in the case of Nao, I guess she wasn't exactly in disguise.

Speaking of which… "Nao told us to give you a letter, it's –"

"With me," Annabeth mumbled, sliding over the letter that Nao had given us.

The Chief took it and quickly opened it with a dagger that I hadn't even seen lying on the table, taking out and opening the letter fluidly. He studied the contents for a moment, then smiled. "Annabeth Chase and Percy Jackson," he said.

"Huh?"

"Those are good names. Be proud of them." He folded the letter back up and put it into his pocket again, and then sat heavily on another unoccupied chair. "What did you think of Nao?"

Cripes. The Fates really love toying with me today. I could already feel Annabeth glaring at the side of my face, tightening her grip on her knife. I think she was readying her terrible instruments of tortu – er, art supplies again. And of course, predictably, her next words were:

"She's a kind, thoughtful women. She acts really mature most of the time, even though she can get all girly over the smallest things. But I think the things she's excited over are also things that show she cares for other people, and that's what I like about her."

…Okay, that was not what I was expecting. I looked almost incredulously at Annabeth, who was smiling. I mean, actually smiling! What happened to jealousy? Or was that my imagination?

The Chief laughed. "Truly? I knew her best as a tiny, fiery and impish little ball of mischief. When she went off adventuring many were glad she was no longer around to plant fish in people's beds."

"Huh?"

"Everyone still loved her, of course," Duncan continued reminiscently. "Malcolm and Caitin especially used to spend time with her, teaching each other how to weave and tailor. Unfortunately, that's also the reason I used to consistently wake up with braided hair."

"What?"

"When they grew up faster than she did she grew fairly upset. Often she had burst out in anger, blaming her friends for leaving her behind height-wise, and that was something so frequent I'm afraid poor Malcolm grew strongly against training in combat with her. Such a shame, he had much potential…"

"…"

"She actually trained in fighting?" Annabeth asked, sounding amused. "She seemed more like a pacifist."

"Oh, yes, she did. In fact, she had been the best in her class. She was especially proficient in archery." Duncan smiled contentedly. "That must have been the proudest day of my life. I pulled some favours and I gave her a magically enchanted bow. It was also the day she truly earned her reputation. She ventured into Dugald Isle and took down a red bear single-handedly. It had served her well until…well…"

The man's face darkened slightly, and with a chill, I suddenly wondered whether he was really talking about Nao. He was talking about this girl like Chiron does to the famous heroes he taught in the past.

All of them happen to be dead.

Is she…? "But…you can still talk to her, can't you?"

Duncan's gaze drifted to me, but I couldn't read his eyes or face. Abruptly, he asked, "I hear your father is a god. What do you think of him?"

I opened my mouth. And I closed it. What did I think of him? I wanted to tell myself he was a good father. He helped me when he could. He visited me when he could. He supported me always, especially during the war against Kronos, when the prophecy called me and said, "You might live, you might die. Have a nice day. Beep, beep, beep…"

But…I think I was still bitter. I saw him on my last birthday, and the one before that; why not this year?

Why did Zeus have to be such a jerkwad? Why couldn't the job of "god of gods" have come with the earth and the sea, instead of the sky? What good was the sky when it was so empty, anyways? And why did Dad allow Zeus to control him this way?

Why couldn't he just take things into his own hands? Why was it that his job had to interfere with me? Was I just another check on his inflated agenda?

Why did he have to be a god?

Why can't he just give it up for me?

"Do not be angry." That voice snapped me out of my mind, drawing my attention back to the man who was studying me carefully. "I will not lie to you and say I'd rather wish for my granddaughter here, beside me. But I must also accept that there are some things only she can do. There is a…greater good that must be served. I hope you will appreciate this some day."

Appreciate? My face was almost mutinous now. Greater good is overrated. Nao I can maybe understand, but my father spoiled the otherwise perfect day today could have been.

Not that today hasn't been spoiled already by Apollo. I let out a huff that sounded frustrated, and muttered, "I'll think about it."

Duncan finally smiled at that, and when I turned to face her, Annabeth was smirking too. I guess I should be happy she wasn't so mad at me anymore, but I was a little too sullen to care.

"Chief Duncan," Annabeth started, though he automatically asked her to drop the title, "do you have any supplies for us to travel with? We're going to have to go somewhere eventually, so I think we should pack now."

"If it's medical supplies you want, you can go to the Healer's House – the matron there, Dilys, can supply you with first-aid supplies. For food, ask Caitin, down at the square. As for camping equipment, Piaras at the Inn should be able to help. If you need gold, most of these places offer part-time employment, so you shouldn't have much problems building up money." The old man peered at us, then added, "Knowing Nao, however, she's likely to have supplied you something to start with. Those bags are from her, correct?"

"Oh!" I fumbled with the little pouches – and then, after I opened the first pocket I touched, I realized it was the same pocket Tin had stuffed something into while I was questioning him.

Apparently he felt the need to give me a white feather.

I stared at it blankly for a moment, but I did think, 'If Tin gave it to me, it means something.' I shrugged and started to stuff it back into the same pocket on the bag I found. Once I actually took a good look at the buttons, though, I realized they weren't buttons, they were more like an anchors for the loop that was attached onto the fold of each pocket.

That was when I realized my gift had two hidden pockets, one that started from the end of the lengthy bag (yup, definitely perfect for a dagger), and a much smaller one positioned on the strap that I never would have made out without a good look. This one seemed to be more for sentimental items, though, as it can hardly fit in anything useful. But I appreciated the gesture all the same.

I stuffed the random feather in that pocket instead just as Annabeth finished taking stock. "Plenty of bandages, some kinda red vial –"

"Health potions. Blue ones are mana potions and yellow ones are stamina. It's a quick restorative, although its taste will make you retch the first time."

"Right. No ambrosia or nectar though. I guess she didn't know where to get that."

Duncan glanced to her in surprise. "No feathers?"

"Feathers? No. Why?"

At the same time: "Feathers? White ones?"

"No. Yellow ones that can fit into the palm of your hand. I wonder if Nao…hmm…"

"Hmm?" I echoed.

Annabeth articulated better, asking, "Why are these feathers important? And what was that about Nao?"

"They're not important, but they can be very convenient." Duncan smiled. "I doubt you'll need them at the moment, however. As for my pondering, that was just because I happened to remember that a villager told me he had lost his ring up north, in the fields of Sidhe Sneatcha. I usually request the first adventurers I meet to help for these kinds of jobs, so I hope I'm not imposing if I ask you to look for it?"

I looked at Annabeth, who shrugged. "Shouldn't be a problem. What does the ring look like?"

"The lost one is thick, but still small enough to fit in your hand."

"Let me guess, it's yellow too?"

Duncan laughed. "Yes, it is, Percy. Thus my sudden recall. I do hope both of you brought warm clothes, however. It's only slightly north, but it's much more chilly than one would expect."

"How far?"

"Just keep going on the north path, past the healer's house, past a man named Trefor, and take the left path once it divides into two. You don't want to go into the right path – that leads to Alby dungeon."

Annabeth only shuddered again.

"He w-wasn't-t k-k-k-kiddin'!" my teeth chattered out.

"Stop being such a baby!" Eiry ordered, that blasted little pixie. "Be a man! March! And let Annabeth borrow your sweater!"

I gave her the best scowl I could in the cold, glaring at that stupidly tiny fairy floating only a few centimeters in front of my face. She gave me back an equally, but definitely not greater, steely glare, chin jutted out and arms folded.

Unfortunately, she had one point right – Annabeth had only come along with a mostly white shirt that said "Euler the Ruler" on the back and "e^(iπ)=-1", which made no sense to me. What did "e" and "i" stand for? And then there was her worn jeans, the ones she didn't look like she minded but secretly told me she wanted the money to replace. They weren't in the best of conditions, having accumulated over a number of years holes ripped out by wear, tear, and Rachel Elizabeth Dare (the last one in the name of repairing a hobo's own pants – don't even ask).

Regardless, I didn't complain as I peeled off my all sea-blue hoodie, giving it to her, and she draped it around herself gratefully. And then she wrinkled her nose.

"Do you wear that every day?"

"H-h-huh? N-no, it w-was a g-g-g-g-g-" I swallowed. "G-gift from Rachel, rememb-b-ber? I t-take g-"

"No, not that! Your T-shirt!"

I looked down at my shirt, and realized it was my standard orange camp T-shirt. "Er…no? I just-t-t hap-p-pened to run out of shirts for the d-day…?"

"Every time I see you you're in that shirt." And then she went and sniffed the inside of my sweater.

"I d-d-doesn't-t smell!"

"Yes you do!" That was Eiry. "Do you realize how fishy you are?" And then she promptly fell on the ground laughing at her own wonderful hilarity, paying me no heed as both Annabeth and I stepped over her, proceeding deeper into the field.

"I don't-t actually s-s-smell, d-d-do I?"

"Don't worry, it actually smells nice." Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Boys…"

I kept silent this time. I think my face was red enough to knock the chattering out of my teeth. Annabeth didn't seem to notice.

She continued, "Percy, I think we should discuss the prophecy."

"Uuh," I managed to get out, nearly stumbling over the snow as it started to descend into a valley of - I squinted again - little more than more snow, with a snowman some distance away, resting alone in the snow like all of its friends had grown legs and ran away.

"We've already completed the first two lines of the prophecy. 'Stride into the silent stream of souls' means the Soul Stream where we met Nao, and 'To battle against monster and animal dolls' must mean the Fomors controlling the local wildlife – we did that too, killing the Gargoyles and the g-gi-gi-"

"Spiders," I supplied, "and they're not giant yet. At least, not in Erinn."

Annabeth shuddered again. "Yes, that. I don't think the battle part is over yet, though – we'll likely have to keep doing that during our stay here. Anyways, we got an idea of what to do at the end – 'Glimpse the wing of the evil crown/All to help a goddess not your own' would be referring to the dark god Cichol and the goddess Morrighan, respectively – wait, is this it?"

I stopped and turned to what Annabeth was looking at. It was the snowman. It had a shiny forehead.

Then as I got closer and I realized it was only shiny because there was something gold stuck there.

"It can't be this easy, can it?" I tapped the ring partly jutting out of the snowman's forehead obnoxiously and tried to pull it out. It didn't budge. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Sorry, snowman." I pulled my fist back and punched the snowman in the face.

Crack.

"Ow! Owowow!" That stupid thing hurt! And I was the one with the invincible knuckles! I shook my hand desperately, trying to ignore the unusual pain, even blowing it a few times before realizing it was already freezing, and Annabeth was watching. I just ignored her and plunged my hand into the snow, sighing contentedly as the pain cooled down. "That stupid thing feels like it's made of ice."

Annabeth looked around the ring carefully. "It is ice, and who knows if it's magical or not. We'll have to try something else."

I finally pulled my hand out of the snow, checking for injuries, of which there was none, luckily. I managed to get angry. Grabbing my sword, pointing it at the iceman, I growled, "Okay, that's it. Gimme the ring. Gimme the ring now. You want a hole in your head? Gimme the ring! I said, gimme the ring or I'll freaking pump metal into your stupid head now! Give it!"

"Percy," Annabeth said dryly, "I don't think the snowman has ears."

"Well, I had to try, didn't I?" And with no less pleasure than I deserved, Riptide descended on the offending iceman, cleaving half of his head straight off, into the air, and into a pine tree. "Crud."

"Anyways," Annabeth continued after an embarrassing episode of me climbing the tree, managing to retrieve the head, and promptly fifteen feet into the snow below, right in front of her, on top of the ring somehow managing to fall out, get into my mouth and freezing onto my tongue painfully; but anyways, my girlfriend continued: "What I don't know from the prophecy is how to get to that end. The only two lines referring to it was 'Accompanied by two new lazy friends/Into the prison's unstable and clever end', neither which really contributes. I have no idea what the significance of two new friends are. I don't suppose you do?"

"I'm all a blank."

"Exactly what I thought. Maybe they could have been referring to Duncan and Nao, but somehow I don't see them as the lazy type. Besides that, lazy just isn't enough of a description for us to pinpoint exactly who they might be, or whether we met them for sure." Here Annabeth scowled. "Lazy also means if we have to fight, they could get killed."

"We could try to train them," I suggested.

"We could, but it might not be ideal. We use them for what we can, and then ditch them if they're not necessary."

"Aw, come on, Annabeth. That's a little cold-hearted. I can protect whoever it might be. They can die, but I can't, remember?"

"You're not invincible, Seaweed Brain. Get your mind wrapped around that fact." And, moving too quickly for me to really register it, her hand landed on my back, her finger brushing the spot that anchored me to this mortal life.

I have no idea if she meant to do that, but the billions of euphoric jolts that spread from the simple contact of her fingers completely drove that thought from my mind. I gave an involuntary shudder, gasped, grabbed her arm, and abruptly tripped.

"Percy!" Annabeth yelped, but she managed to right herself and didn't fall on top of me. On the other hand, I had a face full of snow that was doing nothing to help regain heat in my body.

"I think," I mumbled slowly, "I know why Achilles didn't wear anything more than sandals. If shoes kept rubbing at his weak point too much I'd love with it too."

For a moment I heard nothing behind me, so I raised my head and glanced behind, and the sight that greeted me was Annabeth, with her face utterly scarlet yet again, looking like she wasn't sure if she was going to faint or slap me. And for once, I was clueless on what she just saw. "Um, Annabeth? You alright?"

She didn't answer, just grabbing my hand and yanking me forward with an exclamation, and dragging me along even as I started walking again. "The gate's just ahead," she muttered, and I glanced ahead to see that she was right; the four-pillared platform that I think was a teleportation device that we had used to get to this barren, frozen Christmas nightmare was only a little ways ahead. I was still thinking over what just happened though, and I've no clue what made Annabeth that beet-faced.

"You," Annabeth started, interrupting my thoughts again, "need major remedial English lessons."

So it was something I said wrong? I tried to think over my words again, though I didn't get anything by the time Annabeth towed me to the magical port. She did pause before entering though, asking, "Where's Eiry?"

"Who knows," I grumbled. "We can leave her. She can probably teleport back to the sword or something."

Annabeth looked unsure, but she turned back to the device and went straight to the centre I followed suit, and there was a moment of dizziness before the world righted us again, greeting us with…not green, butmore white.

And what knocked away my thoughts about what I was starting to realize as a sexual innuendo was a very, very strange sight.

"How the pawns must be placed in this war of wills," the strange man sighed, sitting calmly on top of the snow like it was a tea party and we were late.

Not that there were actual tea. Or eggnog. Or any kind of refreshments, for that matter, unless putting snow in my mouth would make it a refreshment.

My first thoughts about this guy was that he should drop his subscription to White Weekly, burn his collection for good measure, and go for a quick swim in the nearest local ocean of paint. Although he looked young, his hair was absolutely snow white, giving me a hard time distinguishing it from the blizzard that was still blowing behind him. It didn't stop there; his entire face was white, like it was coated in makeup, except for the fact that there is no makeup. Even his eyes were mostly white, the only variation from his whole body being the black rings on his eyeballs that defined where his cornea should be.

And it didn't stop there; he had a long formal suit with cuffs, lots of buttons, a high collar, and ruffles and flounces galore by his cuffs and collar; plain pants, with some kind of insignia on the knees; knee-high boots that I think was made of leather; a random stick hanging on a belt; and most importantly, a longsword that he was currently using to draw something on the snow that I couldn't quite make out; and it was all white. This guy could probably go to sleep on a large sheet of blank paper and no one would ever know he was there until he opened his eyes.

"Wow," Annabeth said quietly, and that's when I noticed the two things I missed, which was the pair of bat-like wings that had fluttered for a moment long enough for my eyes to detect it, and a pair of wicked horns that came from his temples. And of course, both were white too. If he wasn't moving, or making that irritating scratching sound with his sword, I'd bet he was a snow statue.

I said the first thing that came to mind: "Are you an angel, Edward Cullen, or neither?"

The man didn't appear to hear my question, and his eyes were trained onthe sword which was still idly drawing on the snow. "Many kinds of monsters exist in this small world," he said eventually. "Goblins. Wolves. Succubi. Trolls. Humans. Spiders. Ghosts. Lions. Imps. Dragons. And of course, the Gods themselves with their infernal spawns."

"You mean – demigods?" Annabeth asked, looking equally as confused as I probably did.

"Many kinds of monsters," the man muttered, "all fighting for naught but transparent, distractive materials and blank, empty promises. Why must this be so…why must faith of some blind the many…Why must the those above housekeep when their misconceptions descended render the extremities of lambs chained…"

"Erm…" Okay, I think he's lost it. A quick glance at Annabeth's face told me she thought the same. It was probably time to go.

And then what he said next made me stay.

"I smell him. The sea godling. He is cursed by the burden he wears. Pity. He and his sons and daughters shall play a crucial role in the war between the butterfly and the evil."

"A butterfly fighting against evil?" I said incredulously, interrupting what Annabeth was about to say. "Poor butterfly."

Again, the strange horned man ignored this. "Their dynamics are an interesting spectacle. The man is ignorant. The son, even more so. Power cannot bring happiness. Hate does not bring retribution. Terms cannot be given. Anger does not vent."

That sounded too close for my liking.

"Hate?" I growled. "What hate? What are you talking about?"

"I, too. I too have once been blinded by the fury on the deitic, the scorn at the responsible, the rage at the caring. If I was to be littered as which envelope the sweet, to what ends must they favour my wrath? Why give love when I was to search for logic? For far too long the lady of unright has spoiled me. Until that fateful end, the goddess of light has stayed her cruel hand 'til I, too, had taken the peekhole of the superbeings. The sons are always the snobbish, pompous, woeful, ignorant."

"Oh yeah?" I don't know how I've been quiet so long, but now my voice was trembling and overflowing with growing anger. "Okay, lemme give you some advice. If you want three black eyes, keep talking. Your choice."

"Percy," Annabeth said sharply.

"This guy's telling me I'm being a brat!" I shouted.

To my anger, the stupid guy continued. "The son is lost. He cannot see straight."

"You can stop insulting me now," I snarled.

"Empty days pass. The father lays and relays the circle which succeeds the cross. Temper grows –"

"Shut up!"

"Percy," Annabeth warned again.

"– when the sky whispers to him, he is not of import, he is not taller than the white rocks of Atlas –"

My hand grabbed my pen.

"– and at last, the day may find when heaven falls from one, conceited boy."

Riptide exploded into a sword.

Annabeth stepped in front of me. "Percy," she said a little more evenly and calmly, "no need to hit the poor guy. His behind's already as swelled as it is."

I was breathing more hardly than I realized. With her comment, I let out one last huff of air and tried to give her a smile. From her wince I guess it turned out sorta bad. But one way or another, I recapped my trusty sword, pocketed it, and turned back to the man still scratching the snow like it was an itch.

"All right," I said to him coolly. "I'm going to blow up the world because of a choice I make or I don't make. Try again, man. That was so last year."

Annabeth's smile got a little more reassuring, but the horned bimbo behind her only turned his face up to the sky. "No longer here," he said. "I don't smell him anymore."

"Then you need your vet to check your nose," I told the idiot mutt. "I'm the son of Poseidon."

He didn't have any response to that. He simply turned back down, yet again, to the patch of snow still being abused by his sword. This time, I tried to take a better look. It took a moment for the shadows to properly convey where the holes were, but I managed to read:

CH TARPLATCH TARPLATCH TARPLATCH TAR

CH TARPLATCH TARPLATCH TARPLATCH TAR

CH TARPLATCH TARPLATCH TARPLATCH TAR

CH TARPLATCH TARPLATCH TARPLATCH TAR

"What do you need the latch for?" I asked snidely. "Holding your jumbled thought process together?"

The man winced. Actually winced. It was the first time he had ever acknowledged our presence here. He also tilted head up, looking directly at me. Also another first.

"Like history," he said, "when functions must be fulfilled a name and an avatar must be lotted. It was only this one's thirteen glitch that brought I to the field of Sidhe Sneachta, cursed to writ the title held by the first of the lost warriors."

"Tarp Latch? What kind of a parent names their kids after a list of things no one really uses?"

Again, he didn't have any response to that. He observed me steadily, and I kept glaring back coolly. For a moment, neither of spoke.

Annabeth finally interrupted with a question. "What's the point of antagonizing us? It's not going to do you much good, and I bet we can fight back if we have to. So tell me, what are you after?"

Slowly, the man broke his gaze at me and turned his head to the daughter of Athena, who watched back equally as collected as I. My gaze dropped to the longsword on his hand that was still digging into the snow, determined not to let him surprise us if he actually attacked.

"Many kinds of monsters in the world," he started again, "yet there is one that, even here, unnatural as can be. Induced by the god forsaken by I, it lays dormant in the place that least suspect hold power. The wing of evil must be constructed to mirror its prowess." And the man falls silent once more, prompting Annabeth to make another question.

"The wing of evil. What is it?"

Suddenly the man's image fuzzed, like an image on a TV with really bad reception. It was over in a moment, and then returned in full force, making it look like there were badly misshapen snowmen sitting on the ground in front of us. I stepped back, but I was still watching him.

"The time has come," the man sighed. "One piece of the wing of evil shall be found in the new street. To the south, foolish adventurers." And then the man turned his face to look at me, which was really creepy because there were three pairs of wobbly rings that was looking straight at me. "Oh, and by the way. Welcome to Erinn. Tir Chonaill is the other way."

And then the man blinked out of existence, leaving behind me, Annabeth, a small hill of snow, and a list that would make any camping store happy if everything on it were what the man had wanted to buy for Christmas.

Unfortunately Nao's introduction was almost completely fabricated by me, so I apologize if some of her prose is OOC.

I don't know when the Forest of Souls were replaced by those Beginner Training boards, but I kept it since it somewhat served a purpose. Whatcha think of my "interpretation" of Tin?

But yes, light gargoyles do exist in the Forest of Souls, though apparently only after a paid rebirth.

Apparently after the G13 update Eiry's also gone. But since I like her character so much, I still included her in here.

I didn't really want to up the rating, but since Percy and Annabeth's bf/gf now, it takes the next level of implicit relationship to affect them, or so I think.

What do you think about Elatha? He has a lotta Shakespeare influence, more than I like. It's just that, he seems to speak riddle-form to me, and this was my best (though maybe not the best) way to get him to do so.

How did I do? Please tell me in a review!