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Mason

I hated how Ladea made Fiona forgive me. I have pride, and I intend to keep it. Even if it meant Fiona. And way to go, Mom, she damaged some of it last night.

"Mason," her cold, rich voice had coaxed.

She had wheat colored hair and hazel eyes that beamed like fresh crops.

"Yes?" I ask, a bit scared.

"Cold, so cold. You know, Persephone, my precious daughter, was always away from me. She loves Hades, more than me. She was immortal, daughter of me and Zeus. He betrayed me, when Persephone went away. Now, it's winter. She's away. Cruel Hades. Never eat a pomegranate," she growled. I had no idea where this was going.

"What does that have to do with me?" I reply.

"You won't go to Hades. You won't go to Agdistis. No pomegranate. Get Persephone back to me," she hissed, "I won't lose another, never again. Too weak. I'm too weak they say. Well, you're too weak to go, never go. You won't. You'll die. Stay away from the Athena's and Poseidon's mix. Dangerous. Very dangerous. You'll die. Death."

"What? I'm not weak!" I protest. "And how is Fiona have anything to do with it?"

"YOU ARE WEAK!" her icy voice roared, and light cornered my vision. She exploded into a shower of wheat, and I was awake with a peace of golden wheat on my hand.

I had it in my pocket ever since. I had a feeling it might be important . . . like when Fiona's mom had to follow the Mark of Athena. But, it wasn't that. I was called weak and powerless and I had to stay away from Fiona.

"Hello?" a voice snapped me back from my flashback.

"Yes?" I ask, to the voice of Fiona.

"I . . . I'm sorry. Maybe you didn't mean it, but it felt that way. What . . . what did your mom mean?" she asked uncertainly.

"Nothing," I tried to say, but she focused me with a suspicious glare, "Fine."

"Your mom went on the Mark of Athena. Well, my mom thinks I'm too weak to make the journey. Something about Persephone and Hades. And something about you being dangerous," I continue, giving in not all about our conversation.

"How am I dangerous? You're the one that can grow flesh-eating crops, fight like super good, and that stuff!" she protests.

"You're kidding, right? Your parents are some of the most famous demigods of all time! Percy was even offered to be a god, and they faced so many quests that they all passed. They're legendary. Your mom's quick, witty, and strong. Your dad's powerful, and better at fighting then me by a ton. They all passed down to you, no doubt!"

"Percy and Annabeth, Mom and Dad, all anyone talks about! What happened to me? I'm me. Not them!" Fiona groaned, slapped her hands on her ears and stormed away . . . again.

I head off to my own room, still thinking of me being "weak."

Nerita

"Liam," I urge. "Please just show me."

"Fine," he grumbles, flicking open the ancient book. It's leathery and worn-out, a dusty dark brown, with golden words that read Ella's Story.

"From the Ella? The book she read from for all those prophecies? Oh my," I gasp. The words are straight and silver, raked like a bird's claws. It was from a red, wise harpy - Ella.

We skimmed over until we found our Great Prophecy.

Abide to the cruel one's wish,

Hence the burden of Poseidon's kin,

Burnt through love of wisdom's joy.

More than one of the last,

Break the tradition through the past.

The pained, the strength, the golden one's dream,

10 circles to be tortured by the Titan's hate,

Destruction that will prevail or reveal doomed fate.

Was written in singed black letters.

"That's us," I say. "My mom said that 'More than one of the last' might mean more people than the Great Prophecy she was in. It was 7, we have 8."

"Probably," Liam's eyes were distant. He looked like Annabeth - my mom's best friend - a bit. Blonde hair and intelligent gray eyes, but that was it. His hair was ruffled but tidy, his chiseled face warm and kind. He was very Roman. Ever since the Mark of Athena tension passed through because of Annabeth's quest, Athena - or Minerva, so she started having Roman children. Not many, but some.

"Break the tradition through the past," he murmured, "What could that mean?"

"Break. Breaking something. The tradition of the past. The quest is only to 3 was a tradition, but it was already broken for the Great Prophecy . . . it is broken for this too. Hmm," I think. My brain hurts. I'm not too smart. Being a daughter of a Zeus and Aphrodite demigod, I wasn't exactly witty.

"That's it! If we need to break a tradition to beat something, it must be important. We need to keep that in mind when fighting," he sounded a bit unsure, but comfirmed it with a nod.

"We're here!" I hear the hollering voice of Owen.

Alright, heading to the mental palace of Agdistis. No big deal?