Disclaimer: Not mine.

I strode down the path towards the Oracle's cave, hoping Rachel would be there. What with all the Greek/Roman stuff happening, I was guessing - or hoping, more like - that she was here in case of an emergency, and that she would be able to see me. I mean, Oracles can see the future, right? So maybe she can see the future where I've figured out how to make myself visible and explained that I went to see her, so she'll know I'm there and talk to me?

Okay, so it sounds a little far-fetched, but it was all that I had. The only other thing I could think of to do was visit Lord Hades and see if he felt like helping me, but somehow I didn't think that I wanted to do that. I may have gotten him a throne on Olympus, but I doubt that makes him like me. He could just refuse to tell anyone he'd seen me, and there would be absolutely nothing I could do about it. Besides, I had no clue how to get to the Underworld's mortal entrance in a hurry. Of course, being dead and all, I could probably go like every other dead person on the planet but I had no idea how to do that. I think some of the myths mentioned Thanatos.

No thanks.

So. Oracle.

I stopped walking at the entrance to her cave and looked inside with trepidation. Rachel was loads less creepy than the old Oracle, but she still had her moments. Fed up with waiting, and slightly ashamed of myself for feeling creeped out by my friend, I walked inside.

Rachel was painting. She also wasn't alone.

Apollo was sat on one of the benches in the surprisingly cosy cave.

"Rachel." He said gently.

"I can't stop." She said, her voice muffled.

"Rachel, painting pictures isn't going to help. It's going to make you feel guilty for not seeing it."

"It wasn't supposed to happen!" Rachel exclaimed. "I see snippets of the future, it's just the prophecies that I'm not allowed to remember because no mortal is allowed to know the outcome before it happens. I saw them both escaping. He wasn't supposed to die."

Apollo sighed. "I know, Rachel. But meant to be or not, nothing is going to bring him back."

Rachel threw the brush she was using against the wall in a fit of temper and stalked over to Apollo. I had never seen her this wound up, not even in the days leading up to the final battle when she was first having dreams about the choice I needed to make for the great prophecy.

"It's not all. I could see pieces of the future and they all fit together. Like a jigsaw puzzle. But now, they're all different. Everything has changed. The Fates are scrambling to make everything fit with Percy's loss and they can't do it. Without him, we will lose."

"We don't know that, Rachel." Apollo said diplomatically.

"Oh yes we do." Rachel hissed. "Whatever happens in the final battle against Gaea has everything to do with Percy. Something to do with his life thread."

Apollo frowned, an unusual expression on his normally cheerful features. "What? What about his life thread?"

Oh. Rachel must be talking about how my thread is apparently really old. So that is the main weapon in the final battle? Cool. If I can figure out how to trigger it.

"I don't know!" Rachel yelled in frustration. "I'm not allowed to see."

Apollo's expression softened. "Rachel, it'll be alright. Zeus instructed Hades to put Percy in Elysium, and Hades retorted by saying he wouldn't be going to Elysium, he'd be headed to the Isle of the Blessed because this was his third good life, and even if Zeus hadn't ordered him to, Percy would be headed for the good section of the underworld because unlike any of Zeus's children, Percy had tried to help his son. Zeus didn't even start on at Hades for that. All of Olympus have been really subdued."

"Elysium - or the Isle of the Blessed, for that matter - is not going to do him as much good as Annabeth when it comes to recovering from that." She flung a hand out behind her and pointed towards the piece she had been working on.

For the first time, I looked at what Rachel had been painting. And automatically flinched at the sight that was burned into my brain.

It was Tartarus. There was the horrible, lifeless deadly ground, and look! Those are the Doors of Death. You can see the horde of angry monsters in the background and in the front, the best place were the two main characters. One was Tartarus, in all his monstrous glory.(Bones breaking, blood leaking, agony pulsing through me~) I shook myself out of the memory and shifted my attention to the other figure.

The other was me. I looked awful. I was pale and gave off the appearance being about to fall down of exhaustion. (Which I was. Tired, tunnel vision. Slash and duck and hit and block, I just want to sleep~) Blood ran down my body, too much of it, accumulating from the many, many small cuts and quite a few deep cuts too. My hair was streaked with filth and I was painfully thin, sinewy muscles all that stopped me from looking like skin and bone. Or looking more like skin and bone.

It was my eyes that really stood out though. They almost glowed with power, and not a sickly green as they had at Akhlys' cave either, but a shifting colour perfectly balanced between green and blue. Sea colour. I have no idea how I managed it but they had a power about them, a wisdom. It said that no matter how badly I was hurt, I would keep fighting till I was dead. It almost ... awed me. Was this really what I looked like?

"Wow, Rachel. You've outdone yourself." I murmured, then jerked and looked at Rachel. I had almost forgotten what I came here to do, but it didn't matter. Neither Rachel nor Apollo seemed to hear me. Rachel had started talking again.

"I still can't get it quite right. Tartarus isn't accurate, he actually looks better in the painting. The other thing is Percy's eyes."

"What about them? They look awesome to me. Almost ... immortal, but that isn't possible. He's had three lives though, sometimes the river Lethe doesn't work as well after a couple times. It still wipes their memories, but in times of stress they can remember things that they couldn't possibly know."

"That's just it!" Rachel ran a hand through her hair. "Just like Tartarus, they aren't vivid enough. They were even more eerie in my dream."

"Okay, Rachel. I don't doubt you. But what does it mean?" Apollo asked, his features oddly intent. Rachel sighed. "I don't know."

Neither of them spoke. I cleared my throat. They didn't react. "Uh, Rachel? Lord Apollo?"

They didn't hear me. I sighed and started to walk out. I heard Rachel cough behind me and Apollo's exclamation of surprise. I spun around and saw green smoke pouring out of Rachel's mouth as the power that used Rachel as a vessel looked straight at me. Just as it did when I was twelve, the sight made me want to stammer out an excuse about looking for the bathroom and bolt. Just like last time, I stayed.

"Approach, seeker, and ask." A gravelly voice - I refused to think of it as Rachel's gravelly voice - stated. Apollo was looking at Rachel with bewilderment, and at my general direction with suspicion.

I gulped, and asked the first question that popped into my head. "How do I fulfil my role as a member of the Seven?"

"Travel with the Argo II. The ship will take you where you need to go with the other demigods. In order to complete your destiny, you must be visible. It will be hard at first, but will grow easier with time as you learn to live with your new ... gifts."

Apollo took a step back in shock and I spoke without thinking. "You aren't rhyming!"

The gravelly voice laughed. "No, young demigod. The Fates have lifted some of the smaller laws regarding you in retaliation. Ask me as many questions as you feel you need, I will answer them as best I can. Bear in mind I cannot tell you the conclusion, only give you guidance."

Apollo was staring, gobsmacked.

"Okay. Okay." I muttered to myself and started pacing. "First things first. How do I make myself visible?"

"You must find the part of you that never changes, and let it fill you till that is a certainty in your world, for it is your strength, and the reason you are able to save the gods."

"Huh?"

"Remember that strengths are often disguised as weaknesses, and what others perceive as a fault can often help you. I am sorry I cannot tell you more, hero, but there are still limits on what I can do."

"No, that's fine. You said I could fulfil my destiny as one of the seven on the Argo II. How can I find it, and how can I catch up with it?"

"You are dead, young hero. That gives you some advantages. Gaea herself could not sense you now, and Tartarus would probably only notice you if he was looking for something out of the ordinary. Being both alive and dead means you have the best of both worlds, as well as the worst. Distance means little to those who are dead. If you focus on an item or a place of a person, you will travel there. If you only want to move in a certain direction, just imagine it."

"Thanks." I paused and thought a moment. "What do the colours mean?"

"Two things, young hero, in each person. Who they are, and their current mood."

"Oohhh." I felt like hitting myself. No wonder all the overtones in the Amphitheatre were dull grey. The mood in a funeral wasn't exactly going to be cheerful.

"Can I ask you questions anytime?"

"Yes, young hero, but remember my earlier restrictions. I can only guide you, not give you the answers."

"Okay. By the way, what were the three lives Hades said I had?"

The Oracle stared at me gravely. "I cannot tell you specifics, young hero, but you are a demigod in all three lives. You must remember the rest on your own."

"Okay." I paced. I was sure there was more I needed to know. Inspiration hit. "If you were me, what question would you ask?"

The Oracle laughed again. "If I were you, I would ask me how I could use my new situation to my advantage."

"Okay. What you said."

The Oracle smiled again. "Now that you are invisible, you would make an excellent spy. You could know when and where Gaea will attack as soon as she decides. You could also be a scout for the Argo II, looking ahead where monsters are likely to hide."

"Thanks, er... Do you have a name? Rachel's the Oracle, your vessel, but that doesn't really describe you."

The Oracle just stared at me. I began to wonder if I'd said something wrong.

"I don't have one." She finally answered. "No-one's ever asked before."

"Well, what name would you like?" I asked.

The Oracle sat in thought. "Nimue, the lady of the lake in the legends of Camelot. There when needed, the keeper of a great weapon. I would like to be called Nimue."

I smiled. "Well then, Nimue. I'll see you around."

"Yes, young hero, I daresay you will." She nodded, looking thoughtful. Then without warning, the green smoke retreated back into Rachel, and she collapsed.

'Nother chapter, everyone. The lady of the lake, by the way, is from the TV series Merlin. I think her name wasn't Nimue in that because Nimue was evil and tried to kill Arthur in the TV series. Anyway, the lady of the lake character in Merlin, but with Nimue's name.

Enjoy, Shib.