Chapter 5: Of Trust and Union

The demigods and hunters arrived at their own camps. The hunters had chosen to come back to their camp to continue giving their sisters their proper burial rights. Thalia, however, chose first to come with her brother and friends to help explain things to the stubborn campers, as did Annabeth. Their fellow hunters understood them and agreed.

They stepped inside the border. As far as they've remembered, the campers were still in their previous places; only a few made to do new tasks. Annabeth went to stand at the center of them all, for some reason stumbling a bit because of sudden drowsiness. Thalia steadied her. "Are you okay?"

She nodded wearily, running the back of her hand in front of her eyes. "Yeah. I really need to get some sleep after this," she muttered, half to herself. She squared her shoulders. "Attention, everyone!"

"Attention!" The campers spun their heads to look at her. Most of them looked on in amazement at the new silvery glow surrounding her, making them wonder what had exactly happened at the throne room of the gods. And again, they searched for the two missing heroes. A feeling of confusion and apprehension unfurled within them, at the same time curiosity plagued their conscience as to what happened, where they were, and why they weren't here, or something along those lines.

Annabeth glanced down at everybody. She gulped nervously. "So.. Good news or bad news?"

The crowd deflated at the last words. They had assumed that all was well; at least no new big problems or any of the sorts. But of course, life isn't all rainbows and ponies. But please, please Fates, just one, at least one or two decades of peace.. Why did she ask, anyway? Usually, Annabeth just says it right then and there, as though whatever news she was about to deliver was not worth her time and attention. But now, she... she actually asked for consensus. Aren't children of Athena supposed to be... proud? Like they think they could do anything without any help or input from the others?

There is something major happening. Clear as day.

A good thing, not bad; hopefully.

"Bad news first." They replied as clearly.

The daughter of Athena nodded, and then suddenly, her expression turned grim. She glanced around at everyone. "Leo Valdez, son of Hephaestus; he, well... he kind of..," she faltered. Ugh, if she was already so much affected by the fire-user, what more if she talked of Percy? Heck, how will they even react?

"Lagged back?"

"Was left at Greece?"

"Incinerated by the gods?"

"Is flying the Argo II back?"

"Burning corpses at Olympus?"

Each suggestion was more hopeful and desperate than the last. It was like they knew what happened to him, judging by their worried and panic-stricken faces. Annabeth only closed her eyes to avoid seeing their hopeless expressions, and shook her head negatively, sadly.

It was so silent; you could hear a pin drop. The campers stared at her open-mouthed. After about some time, they closed their mouths shut and bowed their heads in respect, their grief overflowing. Connor looked like the most affected. His brother was already taken from him, but also his partner-in-crime? The Hephaestus kids were all crying silently. Nyssa then looked up at her, tears brimming her eyes.

"H...how?" was her grief-stricken inquiry.

Annabeth smiled sadly at her. "He died a hero. He was the one who saved us all," she replied, before looking down. "To storm or fire, the world must fall."

"What about Percy?" Katie asked from beside Connor, who was crying into his hands while the daughter of Demeter consoled him. "Where is he?"

Every demigod who had gotten back from Greece avoided everyone's eyes, even Chiron's who was now listening and staring at them with a pained frown. It was then that people understood what Chiron meant by depressing, as he explained his role as an immortal trainer. You'd watch children come and go, fight and hurt, and eventually die. Most of the time, in front of you.

It almost always makes him wish that he was never immortal. Dying. Ending. So he would get to comfort and stay with his fallen students—such a grotesque phrase to use. Or perhaps, a regular mortal teacher who teaches very mortal students, students who die under normal circumstances, and live in normal everyday routines: wake up, clean up, go to school, study, eat, come back home, relax, sleep. Not train, train, train.

"He's... he's..," Annabeth broke off, sobbing and choking. The campers looked on in astonishment. Their day had been officially broken. Forget the celebrations that they'd driven off the Romans. They'd first torture the monster that killed their leader, and then they'll celebrate.

Several campers stepped forward to comfort her, many with their own share of tears. Some who stayed back looked at how the others reacted to this. Thalia looked upset and grief-stricken. Piper and Hazel were sobbing into their boyfriends' shirts. Nico was staring into space, looking indifferent and pale, his eyes red from crying.

Chiron had his head bowed low, before wheeling his chair up near the center. "Everyone, why don't you take some rest? We... we need time to recover before we continue on with our tasks, or something worse might happen," he announced in a gravelly voice. "S-set up some tents by the amphitheater, I... I'm going to.." he trailed off, turning away and heading to the ruins of the arena.

No one moved. Annabeth looked up, wiping her tears with her hands. "We need to fix this."

Almost everyone looked at her in surprise that she would actually prefer to fix something first than resting. "What? The camp?"

She shook her head. "This thing between us and the Romans. It just adds to our problems; wreckage of the camp, having people killed. It doesn't do both of us any good," she noted, and the campers stared at her doubtfully, unsure if they were to agree or not. Sure, they wanted to, but what if the Romans refuse their offer of peace, and lead it to more bloodshed? They wouldn't want that to happen. Annabeth continued, "This whole war with the Romans thing is just a misunderstanding."

"How is it?" a boy that Annabeth recognized as her sibling asked. "When did it happen?"

The daughter of Athena sighed, recalling the event in her mind. She winced; the incident had included him, and she was still getting used to the fact that he was indeed, gone. "When we came to the Roman camp, at first, everything had been fine. But then an eidolon possessed Leo when he was showing Octavian, their Roman auger, around the Argo, and he blasted the camp with the ballistae."

"I'm pretty sure it did some awesome major damage," a Hephaestus boy muttered loud enough for everybody to hear. They glared at him, and he cowered back. "Just stating a fact!" he defended himself in a small voice.

"Well do they know it?" Clarisse ventured impatiently, not wanting to waste her time with a little machine junkie. "Do they know that happened? Do they even know what an eidolon is?" she sneered, narrowing her brown eyes derisively.

"They do," Jason answered, and the daughter of the war god darted her eyes towards him. "They just don't know what happened; they don't trust the Greeks, so they assumed that this was our plan all along. They even counted me, a Roman, a part of the plan," he frowned wearily.

"Then they're jerks," Clarisse declared, scoffing. "Why would we even bother making peace with them? Annabeth, they made fun of your siblings because they know that Athena was a maiden goddess. She still is, isn't she? Hell, they don't even know who Ares is!"

A lot of the campers, and all of the Ares kids roared in assent. Annabeth and the others sweat-dropped. This was going to take some time.

"Calm down, everyone!" Piper shouted over the noise. "Calm down!"

The charmspeak she put into it was thick and powerful. Within seconds, the crowd had quieted and was waiting for them to speak under eyes filled with disdain and anger, but has a hint of understanding to them, to show that they would consider their opinions.

Annabeth sighed tiredly before speaking, "Look, everyone," she started. Her face was twisted in some kind of way, as though she was repressing herself to show whatever she felt at the moment. "If we did nothing, then nothing good comes out from this. We stay here, rebuild, and sleep with one eye open for any attacks. Our camp will feel unprotected; not anymore by monsters but by Romans. Our only approachable ally: gone." Clarisse was about to say something, but she added, "Okay, so be it; we attack their camp. What good thing happens? We kill each other. And that's not even good."

Almost all of them narrowed their eyes as they pondered this, while a few, quick as a flutter of wings, agreed to make peace. A camper raised her hand inquisitively. She gestured for her to speak.

"What if they don't accept?" she asked negatively. Annabeth opened her mouth to answer, but was surprised when someone completely unexpected answered for her. Even the others looked that way.

"Don't act hostile. Turn back. Leave them alone. Try again at another time," Nico said shortly, in a dark, quiet voice. He turned his back on them all. "I won't be coming with you. Good luck." He started to walk away, when someone asked, "Where are you going?"

He paused, and twisted his body slightly so he was facing them. "I'm going to look for Percy." And with that, he took off and ran towards a shadow in a tree, and disappeared.

After the son of Hades had left, Annabeth asked the Apollo kids to get a huge white flag from wherever they have one, and prepare it in a fashion that it could be seen and raised clearly and easily. She had most of the campers joining them, while some stayed back and continued cleaning up the camp. Clarisse hadn't wanted to come, but the daughter of Athena forced her to so she just settled at the back scowling.

Annabeth still didn't know how they were going to Roman camp which was practically on the other side of the continent. But as if on cue, a gleaming red sports car parked itself by the lake, descending from the sky. The air around it was so hot, that when she stepped into its diameter she was nearly sweating. The door opened Batmobile-style, and out hopped the god of the sun, Apollo.

The corners of his mouth pushed into an empty smile. "Father knows what you're up to, so I might as well help you out." He clicked his fingers and the car shimmered, transforming into a bus that could contain fifty people. The doors slid open, and he gestured to it, "Get on."

The campers timidly filed into the vehicle, holding onto their white flag. Apollo shifted into his Roman form and got in wordlessly. The drive to Camp Jupiter was awkwardly silent. They all understood why the usual cheery and carefree god of the sun was in this mood. The hero of Olympus truly had changed them all.

Percy felt comfortable speaking with her. He felt that he could trust her with his whole life—which, by the way, he didn't know what real state it is in. Was he really alive? Dead? Had his soul somehow duplicated itself to come to the Underworld? It seemed... highly unlikely, but with the creator of the universe, everything looked puny and easy.

Puny. A disturbing image appeared in his head; he shook his head mentally to clear it. He finished his story as he watched the goddess's face: emotionless, and he waited for the angry outburst that might as well be his doom.

"So you mean..," Artemis trailed off, looking at him for confirmation.

Percy just nodded solemnly, not trusting his voice to speak. The goddess's mouth opened and closed, as though she wasn't sure what to say. At this, the son of the sea god became even more nervous, expecting the worst to come.

But that was not how he expected it. Do worst things include hugs in it?

He was in too much shock to react or hug back. "I understand," Artemis said, hesitantly, quite confused with her own actions. She pulled away from the hug and looked up at him, her eyes refusing to show their disappointment. "Does it mean that you're not coming back?"

Percy managed to blink out his shock. He shook his head. "No; I thought I told you I'd come back once I finished my training?" he reminded her.

At this time, she somehow found the carved stone floor tiles interesting. "I mean, what if Chaos fades before you even finish your training? You'd never be able to come back—"

"Who said I wasn't?" the son of Poseidon interrupted her, his eyes gleaming with determination. "I'd find a way. The creator was the one who made the laws, right? I'll find a way through it. Besides," he added, "I don't think Chaos'll leave me all alone with her children still training me. And I think this heir business is just preparation; you know, just in case she really would fade."

"She?"

Percy was taken aback. "Yeah. Don't you know?"

She hesitated. "Well, originally," she started to explain, "I thought that the creator of the universe was a male."

"Her original form is female—or so she tells me," the heir shrugged. "But that's not the point. I'll come back, don't worry Lady."

Artemis nodded, staring up at him doubtfully. "When will I ever see you again..," she muttered to herself, half-hoping that he didn't hear her. Yet fortunately or unfortunately, he did.

Percy looked at her a bit oddly, probably pondering her strange behavior in his dream. Seeing this, the goddess made a mental note to compose herself once they meet again. But that was the problem. She didn't know if they would ever meet again.

"How about this," he told her, after a moment of thoughtful silence. She looked up expectantly, hoping that the—only one in a lifetime—smart male had thought up a useful idea. "I'll try to visit you in your dreams every night," he suggested tactfully. What he didn't say was that he'd visit her after he checks up on Annabeth. He had to see if he could talk to her like what he'd accidentally done to Artemis.

"Are.. Are—what?"

Percy swore that he could see stars in her silver eyes. He wondered why that would be? Nonetheless, he nodded affirmatively. "I swear on my life," he confirmed, smiling once he saw the moon goddess smile a smile so contagious he had to join in. "But, well, don't take this wrong, but," he quipped in. "If you tell what I told you to someone else, I might not be able to visit you. It could get to Zeus, and they'd have you on some lockup to find where I am. I can't have that; I won't let you get hurt because of me if I can help it."

The moon goddess nodded in understanding. He was just so caring, and—and loyal. She couldn't imagine a much more perfect male to be worthy of her love. "I swear on my honor that I won't tell anyone," she said firmly, making his smile broaden. "Never."

His grin was so wide that Artemis thought it opted to split his face apart. But suddenly, he cocked his head into a direction as though listening to something. She couldn't hear anything though. He turned back to her, a small, apologetic smile on his face.

"Sorry, Lady Artemis, but you have to wake up," he said as her eyes widened in surprise. She asked him, "How long have I been asleep?"

Percy gave a small shrug of his shoulders. "Five to six hours, I think."

Her vision was fading. The son of the sea god was getting blurrier and blurrier by the second. Not thinking of anything else to do, she grabbed his hand. He blinked in surprise. "Please come back," Artemis pleaded, her face almost portraying the emotion.

He swallowed and nodded. "I will." He gave a small bow as she faded away and disappeared. He heaved a sigh, staring at the spot where the goddess was once standing. "I will, but I wish you were Annabeth..," he murmured wistfully. For some reason, the statement was somewhat hard to pronounce. But he meant it, didn't he? He meant it. He really wished it was Annabeth. ..Maybe.

Percy squeezed his eyes shut. He really meant it. And then, he felt himself waking up. Perfect timing too, since he'd wanted to ask the creator or one of her children something important. He needed some advice; although not the ideal person, he felt that this person was the one he could trust the most next to Annabeth and Artemis.

And maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to help out and hide himself better. Um, not technically hide—perhaps cloak is a much better word.

The son of Hades appeared on the other side of the bank of the river Styx. Looking behind him, he saw the ferryman Charon rowing a group of souls towards him—towards the land. He squinted at each one, whilst they prepared to let go of their unfulfilled dreams. There was no familiar soul within them. Nothing.

He creased his forehead thoughtfully. Maybe he was still on the other side? He turned and waited for Charon to dock. The second he had, the souls floated soundlessly off the boat, and straight into the lines. The ferryman looked at him curiously, the lone paddle clutched in his grip.

Nico gestured to the other side. "Take me back," he told him curtly, handing him a small cloth pouch. He stepped into the boat as the ferryman peered into the bag, his eyes widening. "That goes from here and back. Hustle."

Charon sealed the pouch and nodded, eagerly navigating the boat through the black waters of the River of Hate. Once the boat had touched the wall, it transformed into an elevator and lifted itself up. After sometime, the doors slid open, and the son of Hades, unhurriedly, stepped out of the platform.

He scanned the faces of the translucent, unmoving spirits in the lobby. His eyebrows shot up when he noticed a familiar face, and forgetting his restrictions, he rushed toward the soul. The wisp was in what looked like a conversation with a female. He gripped his shoulder and spun him around to face him. The guy turned to him with a look of astonishment, surprised that someone could actually touch him.

Nico's face fell, his excitement lost in the wind. The guy's mouth moved and formed shapes, but no sound came out. He panicked and gripped the son of Hades' shoulders, his mouth still working. Nico's mouth released a husky word.

"Travis."

The dead son of Hermes' eyes widened. He let his hands drop to the sides. He looked at him, making the movement of his mouth more pronounced. Did we win the war?

This went unnoticed by the son of Hades, for he was busy looking carefully at all the faces in the lobby. He pursed his lips nervously when no more recognizable faces were found. He turned back to the Stoll. He didn't really know if he should ask him if he saw his cousin. He'd die (again) because of shock. He made his decision and inhaled.

"Have you seen Percy?" he asked. The ghost frowned confusedly. Was I supposed to see him before I died? it mouthed, obviously clueless to what he was really asking.

Nico shook his head. "Right here," he said urgently, "Did you see him pass by?"

Travis clenched his jaw grimly. He faced away from the Ghost King, and shook his head, now looking more like an ordinary lost soul than an intellectual demigod. Suddenly, his head jolted up and he floated towards the boat, the female now know recognized as Lou-Ellen of Hecate following behind him. The son of Hades looked after them, defeat evident in his face before coming as well.

Once he set foot in the sandy banks of the river Styx, he dashed after the long lines that lead to the judgment hall. He paused by Cerberus, patting its three doggy heads before barging into his father's throne room. There he was, sitting on his black throne of skulls and jewels, while the seat beside him lay empty; Persephone was probably in her quarters, resting.

Nico fell forward into a bow, which did not do much since he was already on his feet a second later. He looked up at his father, who was gazing at him with disguised concern. "Father, where is Percy? He is in Elysium, right?" Before letting his father reply, he added, "I need to see him!"

Hades sighed, as if he had been expecting this. "Look, Son," he started, and he started it with a hint of nervousness, which didn't go undetected. "I don't—I really don't know how he got there, I assumed that it was Minos' doing; he always is the persuasive one of all the judges, and he might've been angry at him for not letting Daedalus be judged, and—"

"You're rambling, Father," the Ghost King said, a little impatience reaching his voice, making the said father wince. "He has to be in Elysium. He sacrificed himself to save Annabeth!"

The Lord of the Dead let out a stuttering sigh. "Fine. I suppose I should say it," he murmured, tiredly running his hand across his face, as though wiping the blotch of stress coloring it. "He reached Asphodel. And no," he added quickly before his son could protest. "I have nothing to do with it, and you are forbidden to visit him."

Nico's mouth opened and closed like a swinging window flap. His look of shock contorted into one of rage. "And why is that?" he asked, his voice scarily calm. It made Hades flinch in spite of himself. "He should have at least GONE TO ELYSIUM IF I'M NOT ALLOWED VISIT HIM!"

He took deep breaths to calm himself, and before his father could say something, he spun on his heel and marched to the doors. Hades found himself saying, "Where are you going?"

Nico continued walking. "I'm going to fire a certain judge." The doors shut close with a bang. The Rich One blinked, trying to comprehend what had just happened. Finally, he slouched on his throne with a thoughtful sigh.

He rubbed his temples. "I knew I shouldn't have agreed to this."

Well, it gives you some space.

"And it makes my son hate me more."

Nico doesn't hate you. He hates the things that happened. There's much difference between those.

He sighed for the umpteenth time in the day. "Remind me what I get, again?"

The wonderful feeling of helping a friend. And the bragging rights that you know something many don't.

"Aside from that, you sarcastic moron."

Assured safety for your family. Nico, you, and Persephone, I mean.

"Why me? Why not your father?" he asked, and he felt like this was the fifth time he had asked that question. He heard a distant sigh.

For some reason, I don't feel comfortable talking to him anymore.

"Is it because of your new father?" Hades ventured. "And our somewhat, relation?"

Um, yeah, I guess. The beaches here have fine black sand. Not white.

"What about the water?"

It was quiet for a while. Just when Hades thought that he won't reply again, he spoke in an echoic voice, usually a signal that he would be out for a while. It's a clean sparkly grey.

The sentries stood guard atop the towers. They stayed alert and ready as they saw the flaming bus perch at the other side of the Little Tiber, just out of arrow range. They stiffened when they saw Greek heroes climb out of the bus. There were roughly forty campers, as they could see. They narrowed their eyes, their emotions unknown, when they saw the Roman god, Apollo, who have accompanied these Greeks.

"Lord Apollo," the one at the very lead announced loudly, bowing his head in respect. "Why are you with these—these Graeci?" he spat, the last word flew out of his mouth like a spatter of fiery venom. He only regarded the Roman god, ignoring the Greeks completely as if they weren't there.

The sun god narrowed his eyes up at him warningly, and against his will, the leader stepped back in fear of being incinerated. He'd never seen the god so serious before. Well sure, because he was Roman, the god had become more serious and responsible, yet the Greek side was always still there. He does goof around like a Roman does. But not this degree of seriousness; he'd yet to see this—until now.

The god shifted back into his Greek form and walked forward. The sentries stood there, unsure of what to do while still watching the other heroes. They, the heroes of Camp Half-Blood, on the other hand, glanced at each other in uncertainty. A silent accord was made between them, and they raised the flag. The thing was now properly seen.

Many more people from Camp Jupiter had gathered on top of the walls, watching curiously. Some of their faces contorted in disdain, looking at the heroes below them. Apollo had stopped walking, a few yards away from the gates. After some time, the crowd at the walls parted to reveal Reyna, donning her purple toga in all her praetorian glory. Following her was Octavian, stuffed teddies hung at his belt. He wore what seemed to be a permanent sneer on his face.

"What are you doing here? Do you wish to be eradicated?" the augur watched them scornfully. Perhaps he just didn't notice that a searing death wish from his patron was waiting for him at the gates.

"Octavian Bourne," Apollo snarled. The augur's head snapped to the bottom, where his eyes widened almost comically. "Are you the one who wish to be eradicated, augur?"

Despite the fear he was feeling, he couldn't help but say, "How would you do that? You Greeks are weak," he spat, and immediately regretted it. The Greek god of the sun was struggling to contain his godly form.

Meanwhile, the heroes behind the god were glaring at Octavian, all the while trying to haul the flag above their heads, in case the god released hold by accident. The people that had accrued above had scattered when the augur insulted the god, feeling fear and fury at the thought of dying by the augur's stupidity.

Before anyone could say anything, Reyna felt the need to intervene. "Enough, Octavian. He is still a god," she reasoned. The descendant of Apollo just scoffed and turned away. "Get back to your duties. And that," she added firmly before he could protest, "is an order from your praetor."

Octavian opened his mouth to speak, but thought better of it and settled on scowling. He spun on his heel and stomped away. After he left, the female praetor looked back at them, an almost apologetic expression covering her stern face. "I am truly sorry for his insolent words, Lord Apollo. However," she glanced at the Greek heroes who were still standing there awkwardly, her face devoid of emotion. "I believe we still have to talk about... something."

Suddenly, the gates were thrown open. Apollo walked through, the heroes in pace behind him. The Roman guards were eying them warily for any sign of attack. But they didn't seem to care or notice, as they looked around in awe at the city and the camp. Even Clarisse watched the lively camp and city, grudgingly impressed by their defense.

They arrived at the camp's headquarters, which doubles as a praetor's office, or what Reyna called as the Principia. She had the guards watching the other campers with the white flag, whilst she has a talk with the current leader, Annabeth, and the rest of the people who had gone to Greece: Jason the co-praetor; Hazel the legionnaire of Pluto; Frank the centurion; Piper the powerful charmspeaker; Thalia the second-in-command of the Greek version of the Amazons—the lieutenant of the Hunters of Artemis. For that very while, Apollo acted as some peace-bringer in case a fight broke out while the cool heads were discussing.

Reyna hadn't known what to think. The Romans had destroyed the camp severely. Instead of a fierce comeback like she was expecting, and expecting probably a few weeks later after they rejuvenated, she met these surrendering Greeks on their front door, days after their triumphant retreat. At first, she'd been thinking, What are they playing at?

But then she remembered. Days. It's only been days since their celebration, so it couldn't be possible that they were attacking back already, having this short on troops. And then she thought of the white flag. What are they planning to do? Apologize? The Romans did not take it kindly when the Vulcan boy blasted their camp the first time, so why should the Greeks come back, very unexpectedly with a sign of surrender?

She tuned back in to focus. "—the war for you, in the process lost someone of our own, and then we go back to see our home broken and burnt," Annabeth was saying. "What would you feel, then, if you were us?"

"Devastated," Reyna admitted in an even tone. Then she looked at her curiously, her eyes steely. "Who have you lost?"

That's when she noticed that she might've hit a nerve; they have begun squirming uncomfortably. And how come she hadn't noticed it earlier? It's because they were still seven! But two of them were not here. The—she noticed him absent—Vulcan boy, Leo, she reckoned was his name, probably stayed back to repair. But where was he? Very obtuse as she thought he is, he still knows that he's the only one who could make peace between the Greeks and Romans. Or at least, Reyna assumed he could.

"Um.. Well, you see..," Jason started uneasily, gesturing to the people around him. "We've told you that we won the war, but not how we won the war. It was painful." Unknown to the daughter of Bellona, it really was. Having lost two of your best friends almost at the same time, he nearly broke down right then and there.

"We first journeyed through Rome. Annabeth needed to follow the Mark of Athena. So we went, and as the prophecy said, we left her to herself. And then when we found her, she was in a battle with Arachne. She was hanging off a pit. It was Tartarus." Reyna felt sick to the stomach at hearing the name. "We tried to get to her, but the grip of the spider was too strong; we couldn't haul her out. So Percy had us come to the other side, and they fell together."

Jason's voice wavered at the mention of the son of Poseidon. She hadn't known this. But she could predict what happens next. Then where was Percy? And Leo? He continued, after seeing Reyna's eyes widen. "We flew to Greece. To the House of Hades. There were a ton of monsters there, defending. We fought them while Nico went to the doors. He told us that he found they were arguing. Most probably who gets to stay."

At that, the daughter of Bellona gasped in disbelief. Seeing as the daughter of Athena was here, then.. She felt saddened. Why did he have to be so loyal? Even if he was not a true Roman, and left with the Greeks, she still had wished he just stayed.

"And then," the son of Jupiter continued, and Reyna looked up astounded. He was not done? "We went to the original Olympus. Without—without him. The Argo crashed. We found out that Leo was swallowed by the earth, taken hostage by Terra to lure Percy. But," he added, noticing that she was about to say something. "He obviously wasn't there. So we came to one conclusion: it wasn't her doing."

"Why wasn't it? She—she controls the doors, right?" She now hated herself for stammering. Although, truth be told, she felt a little apprehensive on who had gotten Percy. If Terra hadn't, it could be worse.

Jason nodded. "She does. We still don't know how it's like that; you know, her not knowing things.

"So then we fought. We defeated so many monsters. We defeated giants. I came to free Leo while Father was fighting his bane. But then the ropes went around me after he was out.

"He saved us. Porphyrion blasted Leo and Piper away. I was still tied. He got Annabeth beside me, and began to sacrifice us. We almost died," as he said this, he turned away. "But he saved us. Leo.

"He threw himself at Terra while she was forming. There was a pit behind her, a pit to the core. They fell there. Then the ground had sewn itself as if it was never punctured."

Reyna was shocked speechless. She now understood why they had come. They've lost so much that they even went to their mortal nemesis personally to make peace. So no more would be lost. She imagined what they must've felt. She felt herself cringe.

"Yes, we've lost too much," Annabeth said glumly, as if reading her mind. "Consider our offer of peace. Maybe we could even unite," she glanced at the door, where the sun god was waiting by outside, "and make a joint camp. Just no violence."

The female praetor bit her lower lip. She made a glance at the door. It was a good thing that Octavian wasn't here, or he would've shouted lies and insults until her impulse told her to deck him. Of which that impulse was immediate. Of course, the Greco-Roman war wasn't her idea. The fool's supporters are quite much, and vetoing would make her look weak and traitorous.

"Mull it over, Reyna," her co-praetor pleaded. "I speak as a praetor of New Rome, not Jason. They're sincere. They mean it."

She looked over him. The guy looked desperate. Sighing, she said, "Very well. We accept your offer." The Greeks' faces broke into smiles. She gave them her own, mischievous smile. "If you manage to convince the Roman people."

"Thanks for the ride, Lord Apollo."

"No problem, girls." With a wink, he dashed out with his flaming sports car.

The two, with the rest of the hunters behind them, watched as the vehicle soar into the sky; until it finally disappeared between the clouds. Thalia whistled. "Seems like a wonderful car."

They turned and faced the hunters. Each of them were looking at Annabeth intently, sizing her up. Eventually, she moved her gaze down to the ground, getting uncomfortable. The daughter of Zeus saved her.

"Hunters, where's Lady Artemis?" she asked them as a whole. A hunter gestured towards the tent farthest from where they were, a tent with the same size and space as the other tents. Only, unlike the others, it has a silver moon at the entrance. "She's in her tent, sleeping. Thalia," she called when the lieutenant was turning away, "Are you going to take her to Lady Artemis, or could we show her around now?"

The daughter of Zeus stared at her, the expression on her face unreadable. Finally, she nodded. "Yeah. Show her around the camp. Introduce yourselves." She turned to the daughter of Athena. "Come with them. I'll be right back."

Annabeth wanted to thank her, but then she was already gone. She pursed her lips and let the hunters acquaint with her.

Thalia didn't really know why she did that. Something just told her to. Something told her to see her mistress alone, that even Annabeth won't be in the situation. Was there something wrong? She thought to herself as she approached the tent.

It was like any other tent in the camp. Same size, same space. At least, same space in the outside. The only difference is that there was a small silver moon at the entrance—the only indicator that it was the superior's tent. That way, when they get invaded, the intruders will have to look through each tent for the goddess. And because they have roughly thirty hunters, by the time they find the leader's tent, everyone had them cornered.

She reached it and knocked thrice. No response. She knocked again. Nothing. She furrowed her eyebrows and planted her ear onto the door. All she heard was steady breathing. She sighed in relief; nothing bad happened. But still, usually her mistress wakes up at the slightest sound, provided with her keen senses as the best huntress. She raised her hand again to knock, louder this time, but stopped.

Agh, screw privacy. She zipped the tent flap open and barged in. As usual, her traditional spoils of war hung on the tent walls: horns, teeth, scales, and fur of countless beasts littered the walls like framed paintings in an art museum. A carpet made out of boar skin lay flat on the floor. Amidst all the spoils, her bow and arrows were hung like antique display. Leaning on the wall below the bow was a sword, glinting sharp and double-edged. It was an ancient Xiphos, carved with Greek letters in silver.

Σκιάσελήνη. Moonshade.

Thalia stared at the sword incomprehensively. Her mistress had a sword? Was she even using it? And it wasn't even a hunting sword; she could see that clearly. She hadn't seen Artemis wield a sword before. Sure, she does melee occasionally, but with a hunting knife; certainly not with a sword. When did she start using it anyway? She'd gone here last.. Well, the last time she'd gone in here was when she found out that they needed to come to New York to help in the Titan war. And that was eight months ago.

Her skin itched to touch it, to examine it. She was not a sword person, but there was something odd about the sword. Odd in a good way. It appeared excellent to use. She could almost imagine herself wielding it, gracefully slicing and spinning. It gleamed as it slashed the air, leaving a trail of silver light.

She restrained herself. Surely she could do that later. With a resigned sigh, Thalia moved towards her mistress, who was beginning to wake up. She stopped and stayed back as the goddess slowly sat up from her slumber.

Artemis woke up, feeling good since Percy's disappearance. He had actually called her, into his dream! Well, technically it was an accident, but she still got to see him anyway. She was the only one who knew that he was alive and strong, and was on his path to being the true heir of Chaos—and coming back to the world.

She thought about his promise and felt a small smile full of fondness light her face. And then she noticed Thalia, looking at her curiously. Her smile vanished and she stood up, straightening her hunting garb. She looked at her firmly. "Thalia."

Her lieutenant bowed. "Lady Artemis," she greeted. "I'm sorry for coming in without permission. It's just that I needed to talk to you about something, but you wouldn't wake when I knocked. Six times."

The goddess nodded. "It's fine," she said. "What do you want to talk about?"

Thalia's eyes rested on her feet. "I don't mean to pry, but," she cleared her throat nervously. "Why'd you leave when you found out Percy's dead?" Artemis winced for some reason, and the daughter of Zeus noted that. "And," by then, Thalia was looking at her mistress suspiciously. "Did you dream about something in particular?"

Artemis' posture was rigid, her jaw tight as she gazed into her lieutenant's bright blue eyes, pulsing with electricity. What would she say? Some lame excuse? Always better than the truth. He told her not to tell anyone, and she swore her honor to him. She'd not ignore that, now that he might be watching for all she knows.

But her half-sister's eyes were steely, and had something that pushed you to tell the truth she'd wanted. It had a solid ring of determination that could probably detect lies. What would she say? If her lieutenant had found out that she was lying, then the trust in her will decrease. But if she told her lieutenant the truth, Percy would feel betrayed.

Shall she tell her about her feelings for him? It wouldn't cut it, and besides, it was too much information to give away. Shall she tell the half-truth: that Percy was somewhere—not alive nor dead? He'd stop visiting her before he even started. Thalia would go look for him. And after that, everyone will look for him.

What would she do? Flash out and run like a coward?

O' Fates help me..

AN: Thank you for reading, have a nice day! ~SmartzyFan