X:
Prophet

For the next days, I confined Nico in his bedroom, having Alastor watch over him. We talked about the quest for Neoptolemus, and concluded that we'd leave for it on Friday. I'd call in sick for a week – if it went on for more than that, I'd summon a mistform of myself to go.

The reason for delaying our departure for a week had three main reasons. First, Nico needed rest, after bleeding out half the blood in his body. Second, we needed to gather some resources, and the people we'd take. Lastly, I didn't want to miss out on seeing Connor.

We'd established that Nico would rest until Wednesday, for three days, after which he'd rally someone to come with us.

"Are you sure?" he'd said, looking at me seriously. "I don't want you to get hurt… Your life just got back to normal, and I honestly don't want to be the one to ruin that for–"

I'd grabbed his face with my hands, cupping his cold skin in my palms. I quoted him.

"If you go against them by yourself, you'll die. I don't want you to die, capiche?"

He'd nodded.

The following day, there I was, shopping for bird food. When I asked Alastor what he sustained himself on, he answered human souls and sacrifices, but I was at a scarcity for both of those things. I hoped he wouldn't be too unhappy with some grain. I strolled down the Walmart, whistling a tune I'd heard in the radio way too much lately.

I had worn something simple, a plain loose white t-shirt over some black jeans. The floor clacked crisply against the sole and heels of my favorite heeled boots. The black hair I was gifted with upon birth was tied in a random unthought ponytail.

My arms were hunched over a shopping cart, half empty. Its ill wheels screeched miserably as I dragged it across the ground.

Life was good.

I mean, that if you didn't consider how we were once again going to meet our deaths by the face. Honestly, I needed it to continue sane. I needed to do something good, that wasn't for the plans of gods or Titans. Saving Patroclus would do it, hopefully.

Inside, I'd thrown a bird cage, duct tape, biscuits, bandages, small tools and such that would be needed for the trip. As the sack of seeds fell on top of the rest of the things, the cart shook.

I tossed a strand of my hair that hung before my eyes back, as I reached for a pack of bandages on a top shelf.

I clashed against the shopping cart as my body was pushed forward by someone who'd gone against me.

"Oh!" she gasped, as I turned back to see who it was.

It was Rachel. Her fiery hair gave her identity away almost as much as her piercing jade gaze did, the soulful eyes staring into me. Before I could greet her, she spoke.

"Eris, you're here." she stated, as her lips opened into a smile. "I didn't think I'd find you yet."

The name she'd called me whiplashed a tinge of discomfort down my spine. Eris meant chaos and strife in ancient greek, and it was also the name that Kronos had given to me.

"Rachel, hi. It's Erica, by the way."

She frowned, as if I was the one wrong about my own name. Her eyes glowed differently for a second, the Oracle going through her briefly. Then, she shrugged and smiled as if she understood.

"My bad, hah. I misremembered it." she excused herself, before pointing at my neck. "You're… that thing… You've dropped it before, and I picked it up."

It took a while of staring at her in confusion before I realized she meant to say the shard of Kronos' scythe I'd tied to a silver string and worn around my neck. The shard of the old blade often scratched my skin, resulting in an absurd amount of surface wounds across my chest, but it helped me remember my origins.

The shard had been one of the two gifts he gave me that truly made me an impact on me. It stood alongside the dagger I still carried around.

When I first saw it, its outright beauty had stunned me.

The blade was about two palms long, three fingers broad, made with Cocytus Steel. It curved elegantly, as if it knew how deadly it was. Mortal silver formed the grip, sceneries of apocalypse carved into the metal. The crossguard was Stygian Iron, adorned with thin Acheroni Brass chains, that hung quietly, shimmering in its deadly gold under against the tired grayish reflections of the crystal formed in the underwater caves of the Lethe that sat on the pommel nut.

To complete it, the scabbard was hellhound leather, bands and rings of Phlegethon Platinum. In the metal lining, a funerary blessing in ancient greek was inscribed, whispers that Kronos had taught me when I'd asked. The knife held the very essence of hell itself in its materials, a weapon that had taken hundreds of years to be forged and completed. When I set my eyes on it, he'd seen my admiration, and seconds after, it was mine.

I shrugged, attempting to mask my thoughts.

"It's just pretty. Were you looking for me or something?" I asked, as I nudged the cart in order to prevent blocking other people.

"Let's talk outside." she muttered, her relaxed expression gone momentarily. Her tone was regal and serious, even worried.

"Oh, I just need to pay for–" I started, but impatiently she flicked her wrist at a man behind her, a bodyguard.

"Mr. Locke will take care of your groceries, don't worry. I can pay for it." she stated, holding my hand and leading me out of the store before I could answer.

So she was rich, apparently. Her steps were hurried and her dirty sneakers seemed more elegant than anything I'd ever put on my skin. We were outside under the sunny sky in no time. The street wasn't as rushed as it usually was, and the breeze strolled casually, only enough to mess with her hair slightly.

As we stood on the sidewalk, her eyes swiped the street, and her glance set down on a specific black car with tinted windows.

"My dad sent someone else to watch me, ugh." she complained, rolling her eyes and sighing when she faced me again. "Sorry, let me just get rid of that."

Without any hesitation, her hands held my face by my cheeks and pulled me in, meeting my mouth with hers. The sheer surprise was enough to freeze me completely, leaving me breathless and paralyzed as her chapped lips moved on mine.

As she pulled away, heat rose to my face, and I stepped away from her. She chuckled, scratching her hair. Her freckled skin turned pink, and I stared at her, shocked enough to stay silent.

"Sorry about that, yeah, I know you're straight." she glanced at the same car, but now it pulled away from the street, leaving. "They leave me alone it they know that I'm sneaking out to meet with a girlfriend or boyfriend."

"Oh." was all I mustered.

"Uh, you can slap me if you want to?" she offered, turning her cheek over. I shook my head, declining. She shrugged.

"It's fine." I mumbled, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. "At least it worked, right? What did you need me for?"

"I saw visions of you, Eris– Erica, I mean." she explained, reaching out for a crumpled note in her pocket. "What you're going to do with Nico… It's dangerous."

She unfolded the yellowish paper, scribbled on with fast, uncareful handwriting that I couldn't decipher. It was scrapped over, as if she'd changed her mind about what to leave on the sheet more than once.

I tried to reach for it, her fast hand slapped mine off.

"Nuh uh. My notes are mine." she censored, sticking her tongue out at me.

I sighed, and she looked into my eyes gravely.

"I only saw glimpses, Erica, but I know… You're better off if you don't go." she warned, with an exhale. "It'll… affect how the rest of your youth goes."

"Do you know about the ones guarding the crypt?"

She put a finger on her nose bridge, squinting her eyes closed as if she had a headache.

"I feel like… something is stopping me from seeing it more clearly, you know?" she glanced at me expectantly, before sighing. "Of course you don't, you haven't been possessed by the spirit of a millenia year old prophet."

I had to laugh at her exasperation, as I put my hands on my hips and saw a relaxed grin form from her lips. It quietened, and she was serious again.

"It's more serious than you think." she said. "I sense a presence there… It's older than the demigods, and it smells like… Tartarus, Erica."

"Nico said there was a death deity there, something with a K." I guessed, shrugging. I'd dealt with Tartarus before. My ex-boyfriend was a resident of it.

"No. Death gods smell like Hades, like pomegranates. This is different."

"Then Nico stands no chance without me." I concluded.

She nodded.

"Then I'll go. Is there actually anything useful I should know?" I asked, and she nodded once more.

"Nico will take two with him. You can't trust both." she mumbled, as she took another look at her paper. "And your boyfriend… you should take him with you."

"I don't have a boyfriend."

"Oh? Tall skinny boy, blackish hair and blue eyes." she asked, shrugging. "I just assumed you two were dating because–"

"Connor Stoll? Absolutely not." I scoffed. It was too dangerous for him, and his presence there would endanger himself. "He's dumb and he's weak."

"He has quick feet, you'll need that." she retorted, raising her brows.

"He'll break his quick feet if he goes." I insisted.

"He's not a child, Erica, he can take care of himself. He'll manage." she continued, refusing to budge.

"He has the brain of a child. It'll slow us down." I didn't budge either.

"I've been with him, he's not stupid. He can be a good strategist."

"He's a dead weight to us. One more mouth to feed, one more life to watch over."

"One more life to watch over you."

"I don't need anyone else to watch over–"

"Erica." she grabbed my shoulders. The look in her eyes was determined, fierce. "You'll all die if you don't take him with you."

I swallowed hard, and I knew what she said was true. Weight engulfed me, as her promise echoed in my eardrums.

"What?"

"You heard me. You'll both die. You and Nico." she repeated, this time articulating every syllable heavily. "And… the rest of us. It'll bring upon us a war we aren't ready for yet."

"I'm not taking Connor."

"He'll be okay, Erica. Him being there is essential for slowing down something… for everyone else." she said.

"I don't care." I spat out dryly. I would not risk his life for this.

"I know you like him, but–" she tried sounding comforting.

"I don't like him!" I interrupted, and she didn't answer, staring at me instead.

We looked at each other in silence for a bit, her letting the weight of my own words dawn upon myself.

It was stupid to say that I liked him, but perhaps I did feel something for the guy? Ugh, I was letting her get to me. The point had nothing to do to whether I liked him or not, at all. I wouldn't risk his life. I barely knew him, I couldn't just ask him to possibly get killed with me.

"I'm not taking Connor with us." I said, and went into the supermarket to pick up my groceries.

They'd been bagged already, and her bodyguard held them formally. I took the pack from his hands, before reaching for my wallet.

"How much do I owe you?" I asked him. He shook his head.

"Nothing."

"Thanks, then." I shrugged, and walked away. It was worthless arguing over paying my fucking groceries with someone who'd just spewed some serious prophetic bullshit about a quest and told me about some crush even I didn't know existed.

If she wanted to pay for that shit, so be it. It wouldn't hurt me that much. I offered him a friendly smile and a short nod, and he returned it.

I bumped against Rachel in the exit, but she only smiled at me.

"I'll see you around, Rachel." I muttered in goodbye.

"Yeah, we'll see each other somewhere." she nodded in agreement. "You look good today, by the way."

"I know." I answered, smirking at her as I walked past. "I always do."