Chapter 15. Alva: All The Lonely People

Over the years, I discovered that your view of life depends on your height.

When I was a toddler, I only saw knees. It's amazing how important knees are. Even more amazing when you think about how little we appreciate them. Without knees, we would never be able to walk. We would never be able to discover locomotion. We would not move, period. It was the basic element to walking. I used to see knees everywhere. The basics of everything. Nothing complex, just the basics. I lived with my mother then; I suppose you could call it my family. We, as in me and my other siblings, learnt the knees of magic. I couldn't remember much of that time, a few vague flashes, blurry faces, and a sense of belonging. A sense of place. Of familiarity.

As I grew older (and taller), I began to see midriffs. I began to see the part that brings everything together. I learnt to see that everything had several parts to it. I didn't understand it, but I was aware of it. I had left my mother's place then and everything seemed so big. Back then, my siblings and I never had much contact with the outside world. It was just us. Once I escaped, the mortal world stretched out before me endlessly. I did not have the slightest idea where to go. So I began walking.

I walked everywhere, saw everything. From the bright lights of the Strip in Vegas to the bright beaches of Miami. Why not? It wasn't like I had anything else to do anyway. Soon I began to long for more. Then, I began salvaging books. I stole them from libraries, from old bookshops where people never visited and from Lost and Found places I encountered on my way. It was torture, trying to learn English. I blasted countless books in frustration. But I learnt patience and with it came knowledge. It was relieving when I finally began to understand things. I suppose it was a way to compensate for the one thing I never been able to understand: why was I forced to leave my family. I spent countless night lying awake, afraid to close my eyes and see that knife flashing in the darkness. The sensation of the skin on my face tearing open. I was so afraid that night, that night of my attempted murder that I used magic.

Back then, I magic was raw, untamed. I let lose a blast of something bright and ran. I didn't look back to see who was it. I didn't run to any of my siblings. In my mind, every one of them was in on the plan, even my mother. So I ran. I just kept on running, never revealing my real name to anyone, even other demigods. I kept a low profile and developed a wall of ice and steel around me that no one penetrated. No one tried to, except one person.

Only one person. But that was enough.

My stupid hair was still a fiery red although the fight was over. I held my sword at Di Angelo's throat, breathing hard. I could hear Conner, Vanessa and the other girl, Annabeth talking vaguely. Di Angelo stared at me, furious. At least he didn't look so smug anymore. I had underestimated him the first time, he was much better than the average swordsman. Di Angelo scrambled up from the floor and walked away, fuming, without another word. I didn't bother trying to comfort him. He'd hate me soon enough, everyone will, so what's the point of making friends?

I looked up, determined not meet the staring eyes and turning deaf ear to the whispered insults. I rubbed my scar, more conscious of it than usual. Gods, I wanted to get away from here. So why, in the name of Zeus, couldn't I just get up and go? I suppose Vanessa was a factor, and I owed Connor for blasting him too. I suppressed a curse, walking towards the back of the arena, where it was less crowded.

I stood there for a while, staring at the black wall there, trying to decide: should I ditch Vanessa and that quest, proving that I was a good for nothing backstabber and be free or should I stay, endure the insults and keep Vanessa from freaking out so badly she'll probably go mad? I pressed my forehead to the cool black stone. Why was this even an issue? Oh yeah, because I'm soft-hearted enough to care what these people think of me.

"That was some serious sword-play there." I closed my eyes. I did not need this. Especially now. Sighing, I turned to face Connor.

"What is it?" I said, lacing my voice with fatigue and annoyance. It was a trick I knew well. After all, I watched people do it again and again when I was naive enough to ask them for help. Connor raised an eyebrow.

"No really Alva, there's no need to be modest. It was a well-deserved compliment," he said sarcastically. I laughed, I couldn't help myself. That was exactly what I would have said myself. Unfortunately, Connor took this as an invitation of sorts and stepped closer. I shifted slightly, putting a fair amount of distance between us. "You knew him?" Connor asked, indicating the wall.

I blinked I looked at the wall closely. Sure enough, there was a name carved into the wall. Michael Yew, Apollo. There were others, all carved with the name of their cabin after them. I stared at them, taking it all it.

"What is this?" I asked. There were so many names, one after another, rising up to the top of the wall.

"Names of those who died in the Second Great War. We have them carved in one of our beads too." Connor's voice was unusually solemn. He always sounded like he had a secret plan that only he knew. Now, he sounded sad, I realized. For some reason, I felt like comforting him. A shoulder squeeze or something. I clenched my fist and followed the list of names upwards.

"Can I see-" I broke off, my gaze riveted on the topmost name. Connor glanced at me and then followed my gaze up.

"Ah. Ethan. Ethan Nakamura." Each syllable was a stab in my heart. A lump grew in my throat. I needed to go. Now. Connor didn't notice, he went on ruthlessly. "He abandoned Camp to seek revenge on the gods. He lived unclaimed for years here, in Hermes. Who wouldn't be pissed right? He found Kronos in the Labyrinth and became a lieutenant of sorts. At least, that's what Percy said. We all saw him at the front lines though, so we figured he was pretty important." I couldn't breathe. My mind was reeling. He got what he wanted then. An important place in that accursed army. Revenge on the gods.

"Why is he here then?" I choked the words out, around the lump in my throat. Connor looked at me, the gleam in his eyes gone.

"He helped out in the end. Percy managed to convince him, don't ask me how." Connor shook his head. "Then, Kronos killed him," he finished, eyes on the floor. I just stood there, shell-shocked.

Oh, Gods. Oh my freaking Gods.

Then, without a destination in mind, I turned and ran, fighting tears all the way. Connor called something after me, but I ignored him.

I killed him.

Oh gods, I killed Ethan.

I was seeing shoulders when I met Ethan. Back then, I thought people were basically good but just did bad, stupid things occasionally. When I first met Ethan, I was suspicious. No one had ever bothered to help me out so why did this boy, with his one flashing gray eye and ebony hair, cared so much? When I asked him, he just shrugged and said that I understood.

"Understood what?" I asked. He just smiled. I could get a single thought from his mind either; Ethan was an expert in evading me. I stopped using telepathy after that.

There was a short period of awkwardness, as there always is between strangers, and then it was only natural to stick together. We fought monsters, stole food, pranked random strangers and discussed the mysteries of the universe together. Somehow, Ethan had gotten past my armor and I never bothered to push him out again. When I was with him, I never cared about my scar or my hair. It didn't matter to him. I remembered one night when we were sitting at some beach somewhere, counting the stars. He sat up suddenly.

"Why don't you use magic?" Ethan sounded serious. I looked at him from where I lay under the stars, taking in how the cold light of the stars made his hair look like raven feathers. "I mean, aside from the telepathy," he added on hastily. He didn't know about the blasts then. I shrugged.

"I don't know how." My answer was slow and unsure. I never really thought of it before but it really was strange. How can a daughter of Hecate not use magic? All I could do was blast things. Real elegant.

Ethan looked stunned. I hastened to explain. "I mean, when I ... left," Ethan nodded understanding and motioned for me to go on. "I just learnt a few simple spells, just basic Greek words and a protection spell. And after..." I trailed of again.

"After what had happened." Ethan's voice was stiff and angry. I never liked to talk about why I left. It was uncomfortable and Ethan always got too angry. I nodded and continued hastily.

"I guess I don't like to use it anymore. It's..." I stopped, searching for a word. Before us, the waves rolled in and out softly, the sound strangely soothing. "Scary," I decided. It was too. I never knew what happened to the person I had blasted but I didn't want to risk it happening again. Ethan seemed to understand. I lopped an arm around my waist and pulled me close. We lay there, quiet for a while until he spoke again.

"Try it." I looked at him questioningly. "The protection spell. Just try it." I just stared at him. Ethan reached over and took my hand, squeezing it. "Nothing's gonna happen." He kissed me softly, whispering "I promise." I closed my eyes and let the magic flow. It came easily, like it never left.

""Προστατεύστεαυτόν τον τομέα. Δώστε μαςτη ζεστασιά.Δώστε μαςτο φως. Δώστε μαςτην ειρήνη" I whispered. We watched in wondered as a spark appeared before me and expanded, forming a dome above us. It felt like home. A warm bright home.

After that, Ethan pushed me further, helping to create spells and control them. I began to think of him as a permanent fixture in my life.

I was so wrong.

The beach was hard under me. I had been sitting here for a long time now, after I fled from the arena, away from the memories that kept haunting me ever since I arrived at this stupid, cursed place. My jeans were soaked right through from the tide that had rolled in some time ago. Minutes? Hours? I didn't know. I closed my eyes, turning my head up, enjoying the feel of the wind playing with my hair. I didn't care either.

Opening my eyes, I took in the spectacular sight of endless stars above me. Out in the mortal world, there were hardly any places where you could really see the stars. There was either too much light or too much haze. But here, the stars were almost as bright as the moon. I lay there picking out one constellation after another. It was quiet and peaceful. The water stretched out before me, the cold light of the moon and the stars reflected on the surface, lending it an aura of magic and mystery.

"Alva?" I sighed, so much for peace and quiet. When I didn't answer, Connor continued, obviously not getting the hint. "I looked everywhere for you. What are you doing?"

"Nothing." I answered. Even as I said it, I winced, hating the way my voice sounded harsh and cruel. I'm sorry, I wanted to say. I'm not like this, I'm not. But like it was ingrained into its very system, my mouth continued. "Go away." I shouldn't have been worried though; Connor had really deaf ears or really thick skin. He came up and squatted beside me, his feet sinking into the water and wet sand.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice low and hesitant, like I might bite him. I stared at him, taken by surprise. No one had really cared whether I was okay or not. I was either a homeless brat who was not worth their time or a slut that was going to cause trouble. There was no need to be nice to me.

"What?" I said, numbly, sure that I had heard wrongly.

"Are you okay?" Connor repeated softly. I blinked at him. He settled onto the sand, not seeming to mind the water that was fast soaking his clothes or the cool summer wind. "You seemed upset. Just now, I mean. When you saw..." He trailed off. I waited. "When you saw Ethan's name there." I remained silent, taken by surprise as always by his name. Connor bit his lip. Finally, he blurted out, "I knew him too, you know."

I turned my head to look at him properly. He sat there, blue eyes sad and solemn, with the moon shining on his hair, turning it a dark auburn. In the bright light of the moon, I could see his face clearly. He looked like a friend. I felt a tug in my gut, like a bird being charmed out of a tree.

"You did?" I asked hesitantly. Connor smiled and looked at the space above my head, reliving some old dusty memory.

"I sure did. Before coming to camp, we formed a group of sorts; just a few demigods sticking together, trying to survive." I nodded; I had seen many of those. "Travis and I met him there; we came to camp together too." He looked at me again. Ethan. He knew Ethan.

"Tell me more," I whispered. Connor looked at me and I recognized his expression. Pity. He felt sorry for me. But I was too far gone to care.

"He was great. He used to come along when Travis and I went on of our raids. He came up with the best ideas for pranks. He seemed perfect, you know? He was a nice guy, great at fighting and all. Then, one day he just vanished. Just like that, then Percy met him a few months later and that was that." I nodded. And that was that indeed.

Something wet rolled down my cheek and I swiped at it angrily. Connor just sat there watching me. I got up to leave but he caught my wrist, securing me in place.

"What?" I snapped, turning my head away to hide the stupid tears rolling down my cheeks.

"You knew him, didn't you? After he left, you met him?" Connor's eyes never left my face and I looked up to the sky, unable to meet his eyes. "Tell me," he whispered. I swallowed and looked at him. Connor's eyes were a dark haunting blue. I closed my own eyes, trying to shut the world out.

"I met Ethan three years, one month and four days ago." I whispered finally. Bit by bit the whole story poured out and Connor just sat there, listening.

The day I began doubting Ethan began like any other day. We had been together for three weeks now and I was the happiest I had ever been. That day, I had snuck off early in the morning, while Ethan was still sleeping. I wanted to surprise him with something so I went to city, looking for anything strange and out of place. Ethan loved things like that; he called them enigmas and we would sit for hours, trying to figure out its story.

I had wandered around for hours before I went back to our camp, tired, hungry and had failed miserably. As soon as I reached Ethan, I knew something was wrong. The air in the little clearing was tense, like there was a storm coming. Ethan stood at the center, staring at me with dark, hostile eyes. I felt a chill creep down my spine.

"Hey," I said, reaching for a loaf of bread, trying to act normal. "I'm starving." Ethan walked up to me, and I looked up at him, smiling.

"Where have you been?" he hissed. I stepped back, shocked. I had never seen him look this angry, this angry at me. Surprised, I put the bread down again.

"Well, it's a pretty, long story-" I was cut short by a fist that came flying out of nowhere, right into my face. His hand smashed into my face, knocking me back.

"Don't ever do that again, you understand?" he said in that same angry voice. I just stood there, stunned. My face was throbbing and I could feel a bruise rising. Ethan looked at me, his angry eyes flashing, and I nodded hastily. Turning away, he began packing up our things. I helped him, mutely. My face still throbbed and when Ethan wasn't looking I touched the bruise tenderly. It was right over my scar.

After that, Ethan kept hitting me. It was like drugs; once he started he just couldn't stop. I grew afraid and angry; afraid of upsetting Ethan and angry at myself for being weak enough to just take what he was dishing out. My excuses to myself were weak and stupid. I loved him; I told myself as he punched me for something I could hardly remember doing. Every time, he hit me, I was dragged back to the day I woke up to the sight of a knife flashing above me and the sensation of my face tearing open.

I was weak. I was helpless.

I couldn't do anything to stop it.

After that, I saw faces. Cold faces. Heartless faces. I stop reading. I stopped caring. There was nothing left for me. Only Ethan. Ethan, who hit me almost every day. Ethan who would hug me close and whispered how much he loved me in my ear.

And one day he just left.

AN:This chapter has been done forever. I just keep holding back. Anyway, I'm sorry for the long wait. I'm halfway through the next chapter now. Please review! It really helps! Oh and the protection spell Alva used was the same one she used earlier in Chapter 3.