Calypso laid on her bed, eyes staring at the ceiling, fully awake. She was too mixed up in her feelings to sleep.

She called her life a dream. She never knew what reality was like. She only knew that she would only wake up when she got her freedom, or when someone accompanied her and stayed on Ogygia.

It never happened, so she kept Dreaming. She wondered what she would do if this ever happened, yet now that it finally did, she didn't know what to do.

Her Dream was soft and relaxing like a pillow, but she knew it gave a false sense of comfort. She'd been surrounded by a heavy mist all her life, and everyone told her that was the world, but she knew there was something out there, and one day she would reach it.

Odysseus, Drake, Perseus. They had been that lamp that guided her out of the mist, and she had seen the outside world for mere moments. She wanted to wake up forever. She wanted to keep them forever. She didn't want them to go. She wanted to see this world until her past had been buried into the sands of time. She didn't want to stay in the mist anymore.

The Reality was something different. It was brutal, it was tough, it was blunt. It was completely honest with you, whether the truth was comforting or agonising.

Despite what the monster of the latter could be, she wanted to experience it. She no longer wanted to wake up everyday and do the same things she had done for eternity.

She had told Perseus that doing these things was enough to drive a mortal insane. The scary thing was, even if she did not want to admit it, she felt like it could do so to an immortal as well.

Calypso woke up at dawn. She took a shower and washed up. She looked at her picture. It was the same. A beautiful painting of the sunrise, with the golden circle rising above the horizon of the dark blue ocean. The moon was nowhere to be seen, but she saw stars. They sparkled, but they were fading soon. She knew it was, since she had looked at the painting again before and the Stars had seemed brighter. The sun looked darker than usual. It was a strange painting, always changing.

But it never changed.

She put her hand through the painting for a while, trying to touch the gold painted by the artist, but failed. She walked away.

She sat at the table. Her eggs were already there, along with bread she had baked the previous day, and silverware. She frowned slightly. noticing the difference in the food and the tablecloth. Instead of a cross-patterned pink one, it was an orange-and-yellow one, decorated with imprinted flowers. It was strange, always changing.

But it never changed.

Suddenly, she heard a foreign sound that startled her slightly, interrupting her daily rituals.

Wait, she thought, I've heard that sound before.

She looked up. It was Perseus, dressed in nightclothes, his hair a complete mess. She blinked, and stifled laughter. The feeling of hysteria felt different to her, but she liked it.

"Morning," he said groggily.

"Morning," she replied. She hadn't recalled saying that word to anyone since...

And her memories swallowed her up again, her mind venturing to a distant recollection, a small one.

"Good morning?" She frowned at Odysseus. "What does that mean?"

Odysseus was dressed in the same clothes, but freshly washed. He looked calmer than he last night. Rest seemed to have bettered his mood.

He looked at her strangely, before he said, "Ah, my apologies. Where I come from, it is used as a form of greeting when you meet someone at daybreak."

"Oh." Calypso looked down at her breakfast. "Good morning," she repeated, the two words sounding alien in her head, "Does a simple 'greetings' not suffice?"

Odysseus was quiet for a while before he laughed. "I have lots to tell you."

"Calypso!" Percy's voice shook her from her reverie.

She jumped in her seat. "Huh? What?"

"Nothing. You just looked like you zoned out for a minute." Calypso realised Percy still looked ridiculous. She giggled.

Percy looked at himself for a solid two seconds before he regained his composure. Flustered, he briskly walked to the bathroom while Calypso returned to her meal.

A moment later, Percy walked out, his hair damp but still messy and dressed in shorts and his camp t-shirt. He glanced at the food on the table and took his seat.

"So..." Percy ventured. "Can you do that thing?"

"What?" Calypso took a drink from her orange juice.

"That thing we talked about last night."

At this, the glass cup she was holding in her hand exploded. Percy leaped back in shock.

"Oh gods, sorry!" Calypso said, mortified. Snapping her fingers, a gust of wind swept the shards away and disappeared as they flew magically. The juice disappeared as well, fading into mist.

"It was the servants. They do that sometimes." She quickly explained.

Percy raised an eyebrow in scepticism, but said nothing for a while, before replying in a tone like he was trying to lighten the mood, "Who knew magical beings made mistakes?"

Calypso attempted a smile, but her mind was racing. Gods, how long has it been since that has happened...

"I have to go..." Calypso rose from the table and ran to her room before Percy could reply. Shutting the door and locking it firmly, she plopped on her bed, staring at the fabric, her eyes renewed with more clarity.

Reality, was the only thought in her mind. These few moments wouldn't last, she knew from past experiences.

She put out her hands in front of her, replaying the events in her head.

Again, a distant memory was brought to her consciousness.

"If you do survive this war, for the better or for the worse, and if you need my help, seek me." The Sorceress spoke.

Calypso nodded. She turned around and saw the Army awaiting the attack. Finally, the planks beneath her shook like a tremor, and she knew the ship had docked. As the gangplank lowered, a war cry rose from the troops. Calypso looked at The Sorceress for the last time...

It was the last time she'd ever seen her. The war was a blur, a mix of death and chaos and screams. She vaguely remembered fighting from the backlines. The Olympian Army, filled with demigods and nature spirits and other creatures, charged forward...

She'd been taken prisoner. The gods, recognising her as the daughter of Atlas, sentenced her to a lifetime of imprisonment. At first she'd thought, "This isn't so bad." But as the centuries passed, desperation crawled inside her heart. She had considered taking up Her offer, but she reconsidered it. Through her training with The Sorceress, she knew She had a dark side. No favour from Her came without a price. And the price was sometimes too great to pay.

Calypso pushed the thought from her mind. She lied on her bed for a thoughtless silence, before putting her hands together.

She drew them apart. In the centre of her clasped hands, a spark of energy emerged from inside like magic. It was white in colour at first, then it changed to red, then blue, then green, always changing its element.

It has been a while since I've done this, she thought. It wasn't a part of her life she was proud of.

Then the energy settled on the colour pink and blood red. She focused on it for a long time until her eyes clouded up like a mist.

She Dreamed again.

Calypso stayed in her room until Percy knocked at her door.

"Calypso," he said, "you okay?"

She turned around and yelled, "I'm fine!"

"Can I come in?"

Calypso bit back a no. She got up from her bed and opened the door. Percy stood at the doorway, his hands in his pockets. His face was slightly hidden beneath his hair.

"I don't suppose you've come to look uncomfortable." Calypso said sardonically.

Percy took his hands out of his pockets immediately and faced her, his face reddening. "No, that's not it."

"Well, then. Here."

"What?"

"You wanted to see your friends, right?" Hestia waved her hands and an orb of blue translucent and kaleidoscopic crystal appeared in her palms. She handed the sphere to him. "Just think of the person you want to see. If the person isn't shielded magically, you should be able to see him or her. You can't communicate with them, though."

Percy looked taken aback. "Thanks." He looked much happier now. Calypso almost smiled at that despite the spite she was feeling at what she just did. Her hands trembled with rage and exhaustion from performing a summoning.

"How did you do that?" He asked curiously.

She shrugged. "The servants." She lied easily.

"I see." He looked down at it again and ran his hand over the smooth sapphire. "Well, thanks again." He ran off without another word.

Calypso watched him go with impassive eyes. She turned around and shut the door behind her, resisting the urge to slam it instead.

Her hands were still shaking, and this time it wasn't due to the magic.

So, first off, sorry for not updating. There are a couple of reasons for that. First of all, and the main point is, it's really difficult to write in the POV of Calypso. If you look at her situation scientifically, she would be insane, living alone and doing the same things forever, but then chaps like Percy break her out of her insanity for moments, and that's really tough for me to write, because I don't know how it's like to be mentally affected the way Calypso is.

I originally did not plan to do this, but after writing the first chapter I realised this is how Calypso should be: a person close to insanity, and it was a good opportunity to explore this side of her I don't think others have.

So I'm gonna keep trying, and hopefully I can do it.

Forewarning that updates may be really slow, like as slow as this one. Sorry.

Thanks for the support!

-Ignatius