Replies:
I'm curious to know how the changes will effect Percy's future/present/past... Keep writing! –LizCraft
Thanks Liz! Asking questions are good.
oh look... a page from mine... an entire chapter where nothing extra happens... glad to see it catch on... you can thank me later...;p –Josh the Pleb
More like a whole chapter from Rick. Thanks. I guess.
awesome chapter, remember to deviate a little, I did like Percy knowing Mr D and how to play Pinochle, it makes it less infuriating to read that scene. Good luck with the computer issues man! and yes SoulHorse, we missed you, VCRx's grammar and punctuation is terrible like I have seen better from a barely literate toddler (jkkinda). also now that you're back can you tell me who the mean guy is bcus VCRx is being an arse and won't tell methough he said that you know it so pleaseeeeeeeeee? *insert Percy's baby seal eyes here* –Omega Alpha Hydra
Thanks for being patient with me. I promise it'll be worth the wait. And the computer issues live on. Third time I've written this reply.
Dude LINEBREAK took your oreos. go get him! –Pikachupercyharryfirestar
WHAT? REALLY? FUUUUU
-Part One: Pressed-
Chapter 7: Annabeth
Hey guys! It's the super long important chapter you've all been waiting for! YAY! Thank the gods I'm finally finished.
So SoulHorse has been really busy with personal IRL stuff, so it looks like this chapter will be go unbetaed. Sigh.
A video that might help you understand what the wheats' motions will look like: www . youtube watch?v=5v5eBf2KwF8 (Metronome Synchronization). Okay, here we go!
Last time with Annabeth:
Will sighed, "Let me get Piper to come here."
He took the glass from my twitching hand and laid it down on the table besides me.
Coincidentally, the Infirmary's landline laid right beside him.
He picked up the line and clicked in the number ten.
I counted the seconds, using the rhythm of the clock as a guide.
I only counted to five, before Piper picked up.
"Will?" Piper's exhausted voice spilled from the speaker.
"Yeah, it's me. Annabeth's awake."
There was a pause.
"I'll be right there," Piper responded urgently, before the line went dead.
Will looked back at me, silently, before taking my vitals.
"Just making sure you ready to hear what you need to hear," Will warned.
I didn't respond.
All I could think was that dream, with me and Luke falling into hell itself.
WHATISPUNCTUATION
Piper came in crashing through the door just as Will was finishing with my examination.
"Is she okay?" Piper questioned, looking at me with a worried glance as she barged into the room.
Her normally cute and scruffy hair (Jason's words. Not mine.) looked completely disheveled as if she'd just stepped through a hurricane. Her face wasn't much better. Piper's bloodshot eyes looked absolutely tired with exhaustion a sign that Piper hadn't had a good night of sleep.
Her rumpled orange tee and Cherokee eagle sweats were dripping wet.
"Her insides are doing just as I expected. But her right forearm is still fractured. Even with the Ambrosia and Nectar, it'll take at least another week at best before it heals fully." Will responded tiredly.
Piper came up and squished me with a death hug, but was careful enough not to touch my broken arm.
Then she started crying.
"We were so worried. I thought I almost killed you," she sobbed into my shoulder.
Will smiled at the scene from a distance with endearment. "I'll leave you two to… discuss our recent developments… I'll be in my office if you need me."
He sauntered tiredly away to his office – meaning his bunk at Cabin Seven – and Piper and I watched as Will escaped through the doors.
After Will left, Piper brought her attention back to me and leaned in steadily.
"So, how've you been feeling?" Piper asked, as she sat down on the bunk beside my own. She picked up Will's notes and quickly gleamed over it.
"Like I can throw that clipboard at you from a hundred yards."
Piper laughed and evidently checked off some box on a list.
Piper leaned it. "Will's left me a list of questions that I'm supposed to ask you. It's the little mind test you recommended this morning that we should implement. You know – in case of a concussion."
Piper tapped the side of her head as a demonstration.
I nodded.
"So. Can you recite your full name?"
I bit my tongue. "Annabeth Chase."
Piper raised an eyebrow. "Can I get a full name?"
"Piper, we've already established this. I'm not telling you or anybody here. It's too embarrassing."
Piper grumbled a reply that I didn't hear, but reluctantly check off another box.
"Color of your hair?" Piper chanted. I blew a strand of my pale blond hair away from my face.
"Blonde," I said.
"My hair?"
"Well let's see. It's kind of this dark cinnamon tone with maybe a little caramel br – "
"You make me sound like delicious," Piper laughed once more.
She put her hand up and brought up 3 fingers.
"How many fingers am I holdin' up?"
"Three."
"Parentage?"
"Yours or mine?"
"Yours?"
"Frederick Chase, professor at the University of – "
Piper coughed. "Their names. Not their occupations."
"Frederick Chase and Athena."
"Hmph," Piper said, before carelessly tossing the clipboard aside.
"Was that really it?" I asked cautiously.
Piper waved the idea away. "Will had a few more big and complex questions for you to answer, but I'm sure you're fine."
Then, the daughter of Aphrodite's eyes melted with unease, and her shoulders drooped to an even further level. She sighed heavily – a look of deep thought stained her expression.
Whatever she was about to say – it wasn't going to be pleasant news.
"Okay. But before you say anything else, you have to let me get through everything that's happened, okay? Once you let me finish – then you can explode."
I stared at her pointedly.
"First off - Percy's missing," Piper blabbered out with haste.
I stared at her, in distraught. The news bared down onto me like a heavy anchor. But strangely enough, I found my voice without a beat.
" – and?"
Piper looked at me like I just grew another head.
"What?" I asked her. It was a rash statement but my mind was already wandering. Thinking of where Percy could be and what new threat might've emerged to bring this ordeal.
Piper continued to look at me strangely. "I – I just thought there would be – well – more emotion. Heck, the first time I met you, you were on the brink of a mental breakdown because he was missing!"
I took a moment to absorb her words.
She was right.
I should've been more torn. I should've reacted without a rest, and jumped at the chance to start a search. That's what I had done only 9 months ago…
But here I was, rationally controlling my riveting emotions.
I sighed, before straightening out my muddled hair.
"I don't know," I said. Yes. I said that. "Maybe it's the fact that this is the second – no the third time he's gone missing. Maybe it's the fact that I'm just about used to having some world-ending catastrophe on the edge of happening every two weeks. Maybe – "
I laughed bitterly – which was very unlike me. "Here I am laughing. I sound insane. Annabeth Chase. Laughing! Maybe I've lost my mind! I'm used to it now. The struggle. The heartbreak. The torment. At times like this I think I'm one of the Fates' –"
Piper gently placed her hand onto my shoulder. She looked down with me with worry.
"Maybe we should finish that concussion test."
HSIDRAWKCABSKAEPSKAERBEINL
It turned out – I did actually have a concussion; although I worried that it was only partly accountable of my earlier monologue.
I was told – while being carried back on the stretcher from the woods, a couple campers accidentally dropped me and I face planted into the grass.
After Will came back, after having about five seconds of sleep – and treated me as best he could. Piper told me to get some sleep; and that we'd discuss the rest in the morning.
She looked like she hated the idea not telling me immediately the camp's problems as much as I did, but she kept the information inside.
For the night – I laid in bed with nothing to accompany me except for my wandering thoughts.
That's the problem with being a child of Athena.
You could never escape your thoughts.
That, and the fact my body already felt well rested from my three-day slumber kept me wide awake. I was tempted to attempt escape and possibly begin to search for information.
But two obstacles stopped me.
One: my casted arm – which was still supported by equipment. I suspected I wasn't going anywhere – at least without help – for hours. At the very least – until the Ambrosia had finished mending her arm.
Two was Piper. She laid in a semi-peaceful slumber in the bunk to the left of my own. I could tell she was deep asleep, but I calculated an 80% chance of Piper stopping me before I even made it half way towards the door.
And so I stared at the Infirmary's ceiling to keep my wandering mind occupied.
The ceiling featured a mosaic painting of the city of Olympus. It was one of my most favorite; Kayla Knowles and Enrico Pintura had really done a good job with the artwork.
The mural perfectly captured the original Olympian skyline – the one that had been featured before the Second Titan War.
The golden dome atop of the Olympian Counsel gleamed – even more brilliant than the real thing. The city that sprawled along the sides of the mountain shone. Even in the dim light – it was hard to tell it was night. The mural almost glowed by its own.
But I knew that was just an optical illusion. The paint was merely just very reflexive with light.
Various depictions of gods and heroes were scattered among the scene.
Apollo flew in his solar chariot.
Zeus sat atop the dome.
Hermes flew with his winged sandals among the clouds.
Athena was standing at the top steps of the Grand Olympian Library.
The image was so realistic; I could have almost imagined being on the scene itself. One in an endless crowd in the markets at the bottom.
It would've been a false assessment if I said I wasn't mesmerized by it. It was just one in the collection of murals that were randomly placed throughout camp.
Although I had led the renovations, I had never had this much time to observe in detail the masterpiece.
The painting was so lifelike. The image flashed me back to simpler times.
Times when every day seemed a lot more uneventful, and I – as ignorant as I was – was waiting for a chance for adventure.
Somewhere during my long silent thoughts, I began to realize I was no longer in my bunk, but instead, I laid on a freezing etched surface. Cobbled stone. My eyes readjusted away from the mirage of the portrait and I found myself in a dark bricked room.
The space was circular – and around me, from four sides stood huge engraved doors. The doors loomed above me as I stood up, trying to analyze my surroundings.
The doors themselves seemed to have been etched and inscribed in some methods. I made out a few patterns throughout the glyphs.
The language felt alien. As if its existence couldn't and wasn't made to be read my mortal eyes. The texts looked older.
Older than the gods…
The place was dark – though it was pretty obvious the room was lit. The problem was, I couldn't exactly find an exact illuminant. The room itself glowed in this sort of marroon-ish aura manner.
The walls were heavy slates, engrossed with decades of dust and mold. There was a sheer lack of signs of life. And I doubted there had been much in the consequential past.
The room intrigued me. Usually in a dream – and I knew this was a dream. Demigod dreams always had this – itching feeling about them. Once you've had a few, it was pretty easy to recognize the feeling and immediate understand you were with a dream.
Usually, in a dream – the small details remained fuzzy, and often would be cut sort when whatever you were supposed to see had already occur.
Dreams are fluid things, but precise. Whatever this dream wanted to show me, it had yet to happen.
Finally, as patient and unobtrusive as I was, I decided it was time to open of the doors. The doors themselves were identical in every sort of way I inspected them.
With a heavy hand, the door creaked ajar, with surprising little resistance. Beyond, an eerie tunnel with similar build as the circular meandered forward. The maroon aura became thick and opaque with distance and my vision ended about thirty – maybe forty yards away.
With each reluctant step forward, the air seemed to rise around me. The walls – on either side – began to angle inwards and the tunnel slowly grew claustrophobic.
It wasn't a tight fit. The dug and bricked out tunnel still stood five feet wide and the curved slab ceiling was a good yard above my head.
Nevertheless – that space did nothing to lighten my anxiousness.
What was this dream's meaning?
Finally, after about five bends later in the tunnel, the tunnel slanted steeply upwards, and I had to climb my way up using the cobbled etches in the flooring and hand and foot-holds.
When I reached the top, I found myself in the middle of a field of wheat.
As I climbed out, the tunnel in which I had emerged from faded from existence, leaving soiled dirt in its place.
I wouldn't be going back that route.
I took a glance around at my new surroundings.
The air was warm and bitter in taste.
Stars dotted the sky and the Milky Way gleamed like an artists' wide stroke of watered paint.
The wheat around me stood about as high as my neck – and covered every inch of the horizon in a full three-sixty.
There was nothing but stalks of wheat. Millions of them.
I stood at the lone patch of land devoid of the crop.
Then, the stalks all of them hummed and began a chaotic dance around me simultaneously. Their movement consisted a seemingly random assortment of twirls, spins and swings. Each at their own rhythmic beat.
The air echoed and a click-clack along with whoosh and ruffles that sprouted from the movements.
I sensed I was not alone…
"Show yourself!" I screamed. Normally that was not a recommended line to start a conversation with a powerful being, but it was a dream, and I was growing surprisingly impatient with each second.
"Tsk. Tsk." The Wheat around me whispered from a thousand directions.
"Annabeth Aoenai Chase. The daughter of Wisdom. Yet clueless and lost in your emotions. I expected so much more."
The wheat stalks began to organize their rhythms, seemingly finally finding a common beat. In growing unison – the slack and swing of stalks rang out like a huge march of an incoming army.
"Who are you? Why are you here?" I yelled at the plants. Whoever I was speaking with, they were not a friend. But they knew me. They knew me.
No one knew my middle name. Only my parents did. Even Percy had yet to learn…
"Oh, I think you would be surprised, daughter of Athena." The voice around me laughed. The voice was an echo that repeated itself a thousand times.
It was distinctly male – with a monotonous tone, but less than anything else could be made out.
"A friend. Friend. What is a friend. The concept had always escaped me. But recently, I have learned much. Gained much. Lost much. But I've grown in strengths. Strengths that would frighten anyone that would oppose me when the time is right."
The ground below my feet fell away, leaving me floating up into the air. I felt as my form – or it's dream version rather – began to fly into the aether.
I rose among the clouds, losing control. At least, if I had any in the first place…
"Friends," the voice cooed. It was growing deeper. And becoming strangely familiar…
But the connection escaped me.
"Friends," the voice repeated. "It is true – godling. I knew you much more than one may be comfortable with. In some ways, I may know you more well than even the ones most closest to you. You might say – I will know your every emotion. Every idea. Every move.
The voice lacked any sort of emotion, but I could almost make out an image of an ugly grim smirk behind the thick words.
Yet, I could feel those words holding a weight of truth.
Your ever move.
"Which is why I bring you this. An ultimatum. I am sure – you'll find them, manageable on your end."
I began to speak in protest, but my voice failed me.
"Bring the items to the Architect's Workshop by the Equinox's dawn. Do not fail me – else the results would be quite dire."
The clouds blew past me and I came upon a gruesome scene.
Manhattan – the city as a whole – turning into ruins.
Skyscrapers had collapsed. Fires ran ramped. Smoke and screams filled the atmosphere. The scene resembled hell itself.
My dream-self flew and landed with a stop on the lone surviving apex.
The Empire State Building.
I landed with surprising ease, and watched from atop the observation deck with horror at the scope of a collapsing city.
Manhattan, New York.
The pinnacle.
The center and symbol of Western Achievement.
Ablaze.
"Are you pleased with what you see?" the voice whispered into my ears, as if they were standing right next to me.
I turned my head with hesitance at watched as scattered shadows began to ooze together and form a shape along the wall.
A shadow of a figure, one that lacked a source of projection.
The shadow grew from the wall and took form. The figure was definitely humanoid. That much – could have been said with confidence. A rough outline took shape, a head, a thin frame, with legs and arms.
The figure towered over me, grappled in dizzying dark shadows.
In many ways, it reminded me of the giant Clytius. The only difference was that this figure was a lot more leaner – yet radiated with much more power.
"Well?" the voice snarled.
The statement came out as a threat, yet I knew that if I was in any danger, the danger would've already happened. If the thing could or wanted to, I would already be dead. I spun around to take another long stare at the gruesome scene. My stomach twisted with disgust.
"Why –" I stuttered finding my words. "Why would I want this?!"
The figure stepped forward to take a place besides me. He leaned on the railing with a relaxed posture, which infuriated me.
"This could be your reward. But it is not finished. Watch." He gestured forward, directing me as the scene ahead began to real in speed. In amazement I watched as the city to rise back up. Construction cranes rose in place, and filled the foreground. Not before long I realized what I was being shone.
New York. Being built the way I would've built it. A fine mixture of modern-esque build with ancient marble architecture. Inspired by works I had seen from books. Daedalus' ideas. New Rome.
The figure nodded, pleased with my conclusion.
"I will bring a new age for civilization. I have learned much. Experienced much. I plan to bring change. But before change can rise, the old must first fall," the figure spoke in continuance.
I stood there amazed at the worlds. And for a brief moment, I was enchanted with the idea.
A new world.
One better than ever before.
But then I realized what was laced behind the speech. An end of one world for a new one. I stared at my beautiful design of a city once more with a melancholic frown.
The figure sighed, "I see you do not agree. Admittedly, I did not expect you be compliant in the idea – at least at first – but it was worth a try."
There was no emotion, but I sensed…. Disappointment.
Then the figure straightened. "If you do not accept my generous offer, I guess I must use my other game card."
Ding!
Behind us, a set of elevator doors opened. Out, came Percy.
Blood streaked across his face. His stance was stupor, with exhaustion. His chest heaved, like he'd run twice a marathon to make it here.
His clothes were torn. He stood barefoot.
He unsheathed a blade that was not his own. A blade I would've thought I would never see again.
Backbiter.
"Percy!" I yelled.
Percy didn't acknowledge even my existence. He only stared menacingly at the figure in shadows.
"You," Percy said with a pant. He struggled forward with resilience, yet it was obvious that he favored his left leg.
He almost collapsed with exhaustion, and I ran forward. But as I ran to catch him, my hand went through his.
"Me," the figure said brightly, in a mocking tone.
"What have you done with Annabeth?! Where is she?" Percy persisted. He pointed the blade forward.
"Annabeth!" the figure burst out in amusement. "The daughter of Athena, you mean?"
I became frozen, locked, forced to watch this unruly scene unravel by its own terms.
Percy gritted his teeth. "Where. Is. She. Now!"
The figure placed his arms up, not with surrender, but with open welcoming arms. He laughed.
Enraged, Percy charged. But as the same as I had with him, Percy ran straight threw the shadow, and collapsed abruptly when he ran through.
Percy began to cough up a mixture of crimson and pure black smog.
His dazzling green eyes began to dim.
The figure turned around and stared at the fading existence of the Son of Poseidon.
"Great effort, Perseus Jackson. If only your efforts proved to be effective." As I watched in horror, the figure grabbed Percy by the throat and raised him up high, letting Percy's legs dangle in the air.
"But sadly, you are merely a pawn. A stepping stone. One of many keys to unlock an inevitable destiny."
Percy's eyes rolled up into his head; his breaths became loose and far.
The figure let loose the flailing corpse. Percy's crumpled form dropped like a rag doll onto the ground. But with relief, he was still alive.
Then, he put his attention back towards me.
"Everything you have seen has yet to happen," the figure warned. "Your actions and willingness to comply will determine whether I will be merciful…" There was a pause. "Or whether I am not." The figure delved his arm within himself and pulled at another blade from the illusive shadows.
Riptide.
With a single blur of movement, the figure swung around and delved Percy's own blade right into his chest.
Chuck, the sound of blood bubbled.
No! I tried to scream but my voice became clogged.
"What was that you were saying Annabeth? I didn't hear you," the figure's voice chanted.
I tried to speak once more, but the scene faded.
Hope you guys enjoyed that! Exciting stuff actually happened! :D
I'm such a tedious writer. I know, it's a lot more interesting when we find out immediately what's up, but I suck at writing quick beginnings. But we're here, and the adventure starts! A personal thanks for being patient with me!
Best Wishes, from a Junior Scribe of Camp Half Blood
~VCRx
(This chapter has not been betaed.)
[Last Edited: 4.18.17]