Disclaimer: I hate to disappoint you, but I don't own PJO. So, yeah.

CALYPSO

V

I sat at my loom, carefully weaving the threads together. My fingers flitted above the cloth, slowly giving shape to the inanimate bobbin. Under my hands, the shirt slowly took form, a white background with orange swirls running over it.

I took the completed shirt off the loom and folded it, laying it next to my chair. A red butterfly dizzied through the air and landed on my arm. I smiled through tears, thinking about Leo again. Red was always his favourite colour. Everything reminded me of Leo these days.

I readied the loom again and got started on the jeans. It had been hard to find the right formula for white jeans, since the material was naturally blue, and even harder to find the orange. But, what could I say? I had eternity to find the perfect blend. A long time.

An invisible hand landed on my shoulder, and I turned around, trying to smile at the air. "Is breakfast finished?" A slight vibration in the otherwise lazy summer air signaled a nod.

I stood up and joined an invisible crowd on the beach. The table was expertly set, but as soon as I sat down, my gaze fell on the on the spotless white linen, the gleaming ceramic plates, the perfect crystal goblets. My fingers clamped around the so painstakingly embroidered tablecloth…

I stood up abruptly, pushing over my chair into the sand. My servants hushed and I felt twenty invisible pairs of eyes on me. "I am sorry," I said, my voice high and cracking. "I… I will be over there." I gestured hurriedly to the dunes and, grabbing a plate of barley cakes, ran from the table.

Stumbling over the pine roots, I ran through the glade, stuffing the cakes into my mouth as I went. My eyes rolled in their sockets, searching for something, anything to hold onto through the haze of pain. Go figure: there was not. I discarded the plate and ran through my gardens, my long, cinnamon hair whirling into my eyes as I blinked back tears. The silver pebbles skittered under my bare feet.

I threw myself onto my bed and started to cry, to cry for all it was worth.

Sometime later, I felt a hand slowly massaging my shuddering back in calming circles. I did not stop crying. The hand staying there, comforting me. My sobs lessened, though my heart still shuddered in my ribcage. The person stayed still, and through the warm pressure, I felt the friendship of eons. At last, the flow of my tears started to cease, and I lay there, still and lifeless.

I pushed myself up onto one elbow, taking in the wrinkled sheets. My face was no doubt more wrinkled, and horribly red, too, from crying. I sniffed and hiccuped and shifted into sitting position. My eyes felt dry and my face was hot and cracked. I heard a soft sound, like the faintest tinkle of laughter, and invisible hands offered me a glass of water and a tissue. I smiled a watery thanks to whoever was serving me and sipped slowly from the glass.

The instant the liquid passed my lips, a tingle went through my body and my vision sharpened. So it is Tertia serving me. Of all the invisibles, she was the most thoughtful. Only she would have added nectar to the water. I smiled painfully, Even the presence of my best friend could not lighten the burden.

I stood up and walked over to my loom, where my new design still lay unfinished. Next to me, a silken rustle alerted me that Tertia had settled down to watch me as she did most of the time. I did not for the life of me know why. The gods had created my servants so that they would have no will for communication or any pastime, nor had they need for sleep or succor or any such activities. They could see each other, even though they were invisible to anybody else.

"Where are the others?" I asked Tertia.

"I do not know, though I think they are still eating," she replied. I nodded. No need for succor does not stop my friends from trying it, though they feel no relief. I blinked a few times, and started to weave.

It was quiet in the garden, and I felt that I was actually beginning to enjoy myself, almost at least. Though I felt no real pleasure, I had something to get finished, something I had to create. It felt good to have something to do, to know that the world was peaceful and that I needed to do nothing more than weave and grow plants and talk to my friends. My speed picked up, my fingers entwining with the threads until flesh and cloth were one and you couldn't tell one apart from the other.

But he is not here, a voice inside my head whispered. I almost ripped the nearly finished piece to shreds. Can I not do anything without thinking of the son of Hephaestus?!

Oh, dear. You must call him by his name, the voice said. LEO.

The yarn knotted and I had to stop and retrace my steps. Who are you? I thought furiously. And what do you want from me?

You will know, the voice whispered. You will know.

Ah yes, the old one, I thought sourly. You leave me with nothing but vague clues and an imagined conversation!

I am not a figment of your imagination, the voice warned, rising to a terrible keening point. One gift from me to satisfy the unbeliever. I gasped as the yarn knotted itself together and cut itself off the loom, becoming a set of jeans in midair and sinking into my outstretched hands. Thank you.

But the voice was gone.

I wrinkled my brow and shook my head. "Strange forces are abroad," I remarked to the air next to me. A slight haze indicated a shiver and a worried look around the garden.

I took up the clothes I had stitched and took them inside, just as the other servant returned from the beach in a flurry of floating plates and goblets. They chattered among themselves as they worked, filling the rock pool with soap and water, and washing the dishes with flying rags.

I changed into my new garb behind a curtain and braided my hair back. Then I walked out from behind the curtain and looked at myself in the mirror. My servants gasped and smiled at me, telling me orange and white suited my personality. I was too tired to smile, too tired of it all. What is life when one has nothing but a curse? What is life then? I thought to myself.

I wandered out into my gardens, watching the breeze and the birds and then life, but not really seeing anything. It was a while before I noticed that I had come to a stop before my nightshade bower. The red and blue berries gleamed temptingly in the sunlight. I reached out, my fingers brushing the leaves. It was like I was watching myself do something, like I wasn't in my body. My fingers plucked at the berries, my hand full of the poisonous little grapes. My arm came to my mouth…

"HELLO, OGYGIA! GUESS WHICH ANNOYING LITTLE SON OF HEPHAESTUS CAME BACK TO ANNOY THE CRAP OUT OF YOU!"

The end. JK. (Three cliffhangers in a row - I hope that's a record!)

Next time I'll resolve this, I promise! READ & REVIEW!