Omake: Aegle

'Tis the beautiful garden of prayer, of prayer, of prayer…'

Hesperia's serene voice floated languidly through the air, meandering up the mountain path. Aegle smiled from her seat at the cliff edge. Hesperia's songs never failed. Of course, all of them were gifted with soulful voices as spirits of song. But Hesperia, second-youngest sister that she was, had a gentle and mischievous lilt that neither Aegle nor her other sisters possessed.

'What song do you sing, Hesperia?' Hesperia arrived, the last of her notes fading into the air. Aegle patted the spot next to her. 'This is not one of ours.'

Hesperia beamed at her. 'No, it is not. But it is a song about prayers in a garden, which is rather fitting, don't you think?'

Aegle chuckled. Hesperia always seemed to have a song appropriate for the occasion. Erytheia and Arethusa found Hesperia's sense of humor irritating, but Aegle didn't. Hesperia brought a lightness to life in the Garden that was often overlooked but would be sorely missed if gone. Their role as the eternal stewardesses of the Immortal Tree did not give many opportunities for frivolities. Hesperia, while sometimes a troublemaker, made sure that life was not as dull as it could be.

Once upon a time, the troublemaker was Zoë. Their youngest sister with the immature, rebellious streak—or was it her that was wisest? Aegle did not know. Zoë had died in the end, had she not? And death was the cruelest end of all…

For all her life, Aegle knew Death was cruel. Death was the one permanence immortals avoided. Immortality was a boon not granted easily, and she was lucky it was her birthright. But Zoë's death had not seemed cruel. She had passed surrounded by her friends and the goddess she fought for. She had passed on Anaklusmos—the essence of herself—to Poseidon's daughter, someone whom she had known for all of a week. Did that not speak volumes of her love and faith?

Zoë had lived a life that Aegle could only try to imagine. And in the end, she shone above all of them, did she not?

Aegle looked up at the sky. The eternal sunset allowed precious few stars to shine. The Huntress did not watch over her former home, but Aegle knew her sister was there, watching. The stars were one of few things Kronos could not tear down.

Hesperia gave her a shoulder bump. 'What troubles you, sister? You look as if Zeus's thunderclouds have descended upon your face.'

Aegle flinched. 'Be quiet, Hesperia! Zeu—the Olympian was-king does not reign anymore. You know Lord Kronos does not like us uttering his name.'

Hesperia rolled her eyes. 'You are too uptight these days, Aegle. We are Atlas's daughters. The Titan Lord will not harm us.'

Aegle sighed. 'Father is not in good standing with the council these outsmarted by the sea god's daughter, and then the Huntress…many are questioning him.' Of course, Kronos had pretended it was an overwhelming triumph, but Aegle knew better, if the few council meetings she had the misfortune of attending were any indication. The tension was thick in the throne room. The war had come down to the wire. Clearly, Persephone Jackson and her demigod friends had hit the Titans hard, and there was much blame being thrown around as the new rulers tried to figure out why an overwhelming advantage on paper had nearly been thrown away. And if the rumors were true, the victory was not as total as Kronos had hoped…

Hesperia poked her, and Aegle realized she had drifted off into thought again. She sighed. 'Sorry, sister. The war may be over, but nothing is certain. The Titan Lord is not known for his kindness. We must be careful.'

'Fine,' Hesperia sighed. 'I miss when things were simple. Politics make my head ache.'

'Which is why we stay out of it.'

'Alas.' Hesperia lay back against the ground, soft hair fanning out onto the rocks. Her onyx eyes, the mark of their father's blood, were fiery in the sunset. She began humming softly again, so softly that Aegle could barely hear. It was a different song, in English this time, something ethereal and harsh.

Aegle blinked. While the dominant Western language had pervaded their speech over the past few centuries, they rarely sang in English. She had also never heard Hesperia sing anything so piercing. 'Hesperia? What song do you sing?'

Hesperia smiled lightly, tracing something in the dirt with her slender fingers. 'Oh, just something I learned recently.' She resumed humming.

Aegle strained to hear the lyrics. 'I'm in the shadow of the shadow of the sun—Where I belong, there's something coming on…'

For the first time, Aegle noticed that her sister had chosen to braid her hair with a pale circlet. With half her face in the shadow of the cliffs above them, she looked sharp and ablaze, like Zoë had been when she returned. 'No more waiting, times are changing—And there's something coming on…'

'Where did you learn that song, sister?'

Hesperia dusted off her chiton as she got up. 'Aegle, I think Zoë was right. The garden grows dull.'

Before Aegle could react, her sister had begun skipping her way back down the winding mountain path. Aegle looked at where she had been lying. Next to the vaguely girl-shaped impression in the sandy ground, there was a symbol. Hesperia had made a very small trace, but it was there: a capital alpha symbol ringed by a circle. The tips of the letter reached just beyond the circle, straining against its confines, struggling to be unleashed upon the world.