Eventide
part one: civil
ch. nine: across the sky
There was a new sort of energy that existed inside of her, Piper realized. It made her blood turn gold, her senses turn sharper, and it made her feel more alive than ever. Which it actually did - at times, she felt like she had just downed a couple of Red Bulls. Of course, other times, she was completely exhausted. Most of the time, she felt just like her old self with an extended life.
She stalked into the Arts & Crafts cabin, in which her siblings were screeching and drawing designs of the next "big thing" - which consisted of big, poofy sleeves, clothing that showed so much skin it was horrible, or One Direction onesies. The satyrs that watched over the activity were in one corner, building what looked like a giant, paper-mache goat.
Piper guessed that the statue depicted the late Pan, god of the wild. She'd heard of him a couple of times - the son of Hermes, protector of all things wild, blah blah. That was about it. She wondered what had happened to him; the stories were spread throughout Camp Half-Blood like pieces of paper in the wind. One cabin would say that he had faded; another would say he was still alive.
One of the satyrs turned as she approached. She recognized him, kind of, with curly brown hair, a bright red Rasta cap, the orange T-shirt. She frowned. She had seen him before, somewhere, in the back of her mind. A picture. A picture, adorning the walls of Chiron's office...
"You're... Grover," she guessed. "Right?" He nodded, smiling, saying something to another satyr about the statue before turning fully to face her.
"Lord of the Wild," someone piped up. "One of the Council of Cloven Elders." For a second, she could see clearly the expression on his face - he winced, shied back a little as if he was scared of the title - but when she blinked again, he seemed proud.
"Yeah, yeah," he said, almost humbly. "I'm just another satyr, really, but others don't seem to think so-"
"The chosen one of Pan," another satyr called, picking up paint. Grover blushed.
"And all that stuff. I know who I am, thank you. You're Piper, aren't you?" he asked, changing the subject. "Piper McLean? I'm one of Percy's... friends." So that was where she'd seen him before. She remembered clearly now; she'd been right - she had been talking to her dad in Chiron's office, and there had been a picture of him on the wall. Percy had been standing arm in arm with the satyr, smiling at the camera, while Travis Stoll stood behind them with a bucket of paint.
"Friends? Best friends, you mean," Lacy commented from behind. "I mean, you guys were practically the closest thing since him and Annabeth, but that's different. Come on, Grover, we both know you two were best buds."
Her sister had joined them. Apparently, she had detached herself from the group of giggling Aphrodite girls. At least someone in this place had some form of common sense. Grover turned red, scratching the back of his neck.
"Well, I mean, yeah, but..." Lacy cut him off.
"But what?" He sighed and shook his head. Then he turned to look at a clock on the wall, relief showing clearly on his acne-dotted face.
"Oh, look," he said. "It's time for you guys to go. I'll see you at dinner, then?" He acted as if the conversation hadn't happened. Piper frowned. As a daughter of Aphrodite, she was one of those people who could get a feeling of what emotion was going on (which sometimes sucked), but she wasn't getting anything off of him.
She frowned but pushed the thought to the back of her mind, looking at her siblings before assembling them into a neat line. Archery was next. Yay. She wasn't terrible, and she was most definitely better than Percy, but she was no good, either.
"Fall in, Cabin Ten! Go!" They spilled out of the Arts & Crafts cabin. It was a messy, perfume-scented group of loud girls and boys who didn't even bother listening to her. She shook her head and braced herself. Hopefully, she could make it through dinner, at least.
The rest of the day was uneventful. She shot the target. She took her free activity time to wander down the lake, only to walk back around the camp looking for something to do, restless. There was something off about it - she didn't know why, but she couldn't stay concentrated on anything for long. Ancient Greek found her doodling in a journal as an instructor talked about old proverbs. Rock-climbing almost had her falling off the cliff as she tried not to die - oh, wait, she couldn't die.
She'd moved to the head table for dinner. Already, a headache had been forming all day, but with her siblings around, she wasn't sure if it would get any better. Mr. D talked a lot about Merlot. Or some other Italian wine that he found delicious or something. Chiron, she found out, liked to play cards and read poems. Pollux, the son of Mr. D, was a quiet boy who didn't speak much. He looked pained at times, picking at food, and other times, he discussed the benefits of getting drunk with his father.
So, no, her headache wasn't getting any better. She sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time today, sipped at her Diet Coke (something that Mr. D had insisted her drink), and tried to look interested as Chiron told stories about boring adventures.
The campfire was the highlight of her day.
Night had settled itself over the camp; darkness perched on the tops of trees and the roofs of cabins. Crickets chirped soothingly, not stopping their strange-sounding lullaby. The fire was warm and bright; flickering orange and yellow and red. It burst upwards, throwing sparks everywhere, but she didn't mind. The Apollo Cabin sang demigod classics - The Minotaur Wants to Kill Me or Our Enemies are Coming to Town - as well as some non-classics - Gaea Sucks and Die, Monsters, Die.
It was nice, warm, comfortable; the pillows behind her head were soft, and the piled blankets did nothing to help. She felt like it was home here, with a real family and people who cared for her like she cared for them. Piper closed her eyes, wondering if she could get another round of s'mores.
And then she was standing on the crest of Half-Blood Hill, seeing its destruction. She wanted to scream, I've had this dream before, sucker! but Piper found that her mouth couldn't move. She couldn't move. There was a cold laugh behind her; she could feel it. Someone was standing next to her, warm breath against her neck.
"Aphrodite's daughter," the voice crooned. "Such a pretty face. Pretty voice, too. Oh, yes, you would do well." She shivered, suddenly able to move. Piper whirled around.
No one. There was no one there. Nothing but shadows. "Ah, ah, Piper, look closer," the same voice sang. "Just a little closer." Nothing.
And then there were cold, slender fingers at her throat, a whisper in her ear. "It's funny, isn't it, child. Look at this. Glorious, glorious destruction. And it will come, too, if you aren't careful. Oh, yes, it will come. You fools think you can hide forever. Zeus, especially, is a fool, isn't he?" She kept her mouth shut, trying not to scream.
"Who are you?" she finally rasped out.
"I'm no one, really," the voice said lightly. "I'm just a messenger. You wouldn't know me." It was then that Piper grew angry. Angry because of her home, being torn apart brick by brick. Angry because she couldn't do anything. Angry because of this stupid person.
"What. Do. You. Want," she spat. "Get out of my dream!" A laugh.
"I want nothing. I told you, child, that I am a messenger and no more. But remember this, Piper McLean, and remember my words well. Something of darkness is on the rise, and while you are powerless to stop it from rising, you have a chance at stopping it from destroying the world you know. I'm on nobody's side, really, which is why I'm here."
What was this, the Hobbit, where everyone spoke in riddles? (Or sang.)
"Who's rising?" she asked. A cold hand tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She shuddered at the sudden touch.
"I can't tell you this. I can tell you that you're going to need a little more than what you have; the campers of Half-Blood and Jupiter are not enough. Find your allies. Seek those who are lost. Not yet - you will know when. For now, enjoy the destruction of Camp Half-Blood. I hope you like it. I had fun designing it."
Then, the being disappeared; no voice, no hand, nothing. Piper watched the last of Half-Blood Hill turn to ash numbly. She felt suddenly hollow, like all of the emotion had drained out of her. Her legs suddenly collapsed from underneath her, and the last wisps of smoke changed the scenery into something different.
Then she was in a room with pale, golden walls, and no other decoration. It was dirty, with rough cement floors. The sound was muffled; someone was speaking, but she couldn't figure out the words. Piper took a step forwards, and then something moved.
She stifled a scream. A cage. Bars. Behind the bars, three boys stood, grim-faced and quiet. One of the boys was none other than the troublemaker himself - Percy Jackson, one of her best friends. He didn't look like he was enjoying his stay too much, gripping the bars and yelling something.
"Percy," she whispered, her voice suddenly hoarse. Against her will, she took a step forward. Then another. And another. And another, until she was standing right next to him. He didn't appear to have heard her - this was a dream - but she wanted to talk to him, to help him, to do anything.
He turned, and Piper's heart began hammering in her throat. He looked tired - not overly so, but roughed up enough. The wounds were still fresh, blood crimson red and sliding down his face. Whatever had happened, he had lost.
The other two boys she didn't recognize. One of them - tall, with sandy blonde hair - looked achingly familiar. The other boy was dark-haired, Japanese probably, and he stood with an air of distressed calamity. She turned her attention away from them.
She wanted to throw up. The bile rose in her throat, a disgusting feeling, and she looked away. Here she was, dreaming about her friend who was being captured and held - possibly even tortured. He wasn't hurt too badly, but she still felt terrible, like after he and Annabeth had stumbled out of Tartarus. Tears began to fall, hot and furious.
Then footsteps. A large, looming shadow on the wall. Piper shivered. A gravelly voice, rumbling something. And then someone was shaking her, telling her to get up.
"Piper! Piper, get up! Piper, come on!" She gasped, her lungs expanding outwards gratefully. It was Leo, his face crinkling in concern as he stared down at her. Piper rubbed at her eyes and choked back the sob that threatened to escape. She trembled. Percy...
"L-Leo," she said, licking her lips. "What's... what's wrong?"
"You were screaming, Pipes. Even worse than your mom when someone mentions Helen and Paris. Which is pre-t-t-y loud." She winced. That was loud enough to wake up the whole of Manhattan.
"I'm sorry. Just a bad dream." Leo's face darkened a little. He didn't look like the joking boy from a minute ago, making fun of her mom, Aphrodite.
"A bad dream?" he asked. He shook his head. "You're not the only one. Heck, everyone who fell asleep last night were having nightmares. Chiron said it had to be Murphy-something or whatever." Well, that would explain it.
"Morpheus?" she asked. The god of dreams. Or was it sleep? Nope, it was dreams - or in their case, nightmares.
"Yeah, that guy! But yeah, you must have wanted your beauty sleep, McLean. I haven't seen you sleep that much since the first day back," he said jokingly. She threw a pillow at him, fully hoping for it to slam into his face or somewhere productive. He only set it on fire, which caused a lot of unnecessary chaos.
She just sighed, rubbing at her face. "Leo, what time is it?"
"Summertime," he answered reflexively, before blurting out, "Ten." She shrugged. No one had bothered to bring her to her cabin apparently, and besides, everyone was still asleep. Mostly everyone. As she scanned the crowd draped messily over the amphitheater seats, she wasn't very surprised to see many of the demigods stirring or with twisted faces - as Leo had said, Morpheus had visited, and he'd brought nightmares. She turned back to him, arching an eyebrow.
"High School Musical?" He turned red and began playing with the frayed hem of his shirt.
"Er, there was a lot of downtime during the whole orphan thing."
"Mmhmm," she hummed. She held up an arm. "Now help me up, Repair Boy. Tell me there's breakfast left?" He pulled her up and put an arm around her waist, steadying her. Leo did a half-bow thing, grinning, though if she looked closer, she could see the uneasiness radiating off of him. He hadn't had a good night, either.
"Of course, milady." A corner of her lips tugged up.
"Thank you, milord," she replied, letting him lead her to the mess hall, despite the fact that she hadn't brushed her teeth and probably looked like the worst daughter of Aphrodite ever.
Leo sat across the table from her as she chewed her bagel thoughtfully. He was distracted, and he kept frowning, as if something had happened while she'd been out. Piper took another bite, savoring the rich taste of butter, and waited. He would spill the beans sooner or later. In the meantime, she would enjoy her bagel and pretend like nothing was going on.
It didn't take long. He stared at the table as he spoke, mumbling the words. "It's Nico."
She blinked. Nico? Nico di Angelo, the son of Hades? To be honest, she'd never known how she'd felt around the boy. Sure, they were friends, and she would definitely do (almost) anything for him, but despite that, there was still a part of him that was unnatural. That creeped her out. Children of Hades never fit in. They are the outsiders, the loners. Never truly there. Someone had told her that, once, but she hadn't believed it. Nico and Hazel both were good kids, loyal and caring - they fit in perfectly.
"What happened?" she asked. No. She couldn't lose him, not after losing so many already...
"He, well, he's gone. I mean, that's what happened. Left a sticky note on the Big House door, saying he, um, he couldn't stick around anymore. We talked to Hazel about it, and she said he'd been with them for a bit, coming by to tell her the same thing. They said their good-bye's, and he was gone."
Gods, everything happened while she was asleep. Everything. She was suddenly hit by a flood of guilt - or maybe sadness. Hazel, the poor girl. She'd gone through so much; she didn't deserve this. Nobody did.
But Nico didn't deserve all the things thrown at him, either. He'd lost his family at a young age, and now, even though the war was over, his two friends were gone. When she'd talked to Jason about it, she had lied. Lied. It was obvious - almost too obvious - that he liked Percy. No, not liked. Loved. It was like a sixth sense; she knew it, knew that he loved the older boy and that it was as plain as day.
It'd likely crushed him. Life wasn't fair, but - they rarely ever lead happy lives. Death follows them in their shadows. Someone once said that heroes rarely get happy endings, but for them, it doesn't work like that. They live lives full of tragedy, believe it or not. She frowned. No.
"Gone? Just like that?" He nodded, running a hand through greasy curls.
"Jason, Hazel, and Frank are coming over. Hazel says she can't handle it; we've got to do this together. Especially now." Even with the sad thoughts, she perked up at the mention of Jason. After the immortality thing, he'd gone back to San Francisco. It'd only been a day, but she'd barely seen him, and, well, she needed some reassurance that everything would be okay.
The past few months hadn't been okay. No, sir. The war, the deaths, the disappearances... She wanted it all to be over. She just wanted everything to stop. Life wasn't fair, but a demigod's life was even worse.
"Okay," she said quietly. "Okay." He nodded sharply, looking at her and reaching across the table to grasp her hands, no longer holding the bagel as she had finished it. His hands were warmer than she'd expected them to be. Leo just smiled at her - this sad, sad smile - before he let go and got up.
She watched him walk away, the sun turning his hair auburn, and wondered what would've happened if she had never woken up. Not ever. And Death could carry away her soul just like all the others who'd fallen asleep and never woken up.
But Piper thought about all the friends she had left, and how they needed her; and so she fingered the beads on her necklace and decided that she would wait patiently for peace.
I'm a failure, people. Failure. The whole time Piper narrates, she sleeps in every chapter.
On another note, my brain keeps bothering me to update because hey, it's Valentine's Day-ish (read: OTP day), blah. Yes, I am single. Don't worry - I love being single. I can buy myself chocolate.
I'm going to go with the food theme and ask you to write 'chocolate' if you read the A/N. Question of the Day: OTP? And what's your favorite chocolate: dark, milk, or white? Or other (caramel, filling, etc.)?
achieving elysium
