Not dead! Not yet anyway XD I have returned to get some Leoisa out of my system.
Where have I been, I hear you ask? I have been writing! Check out of Eyes of Violet by Toni Langley (dat's me!) and you will see! A culmination of all my years writing on here; mutants, magic and mystery! Available on UK and American retailers now! Go get it, go get it, you know you wanna! ;)
Lordy, I have missed these characters XD
A year. How had it been a year? How had it only been a year?
A year since Luke showed up. Or whatever twisted monster had taken his form and his name. The Luke they knew had died a hero. The Luke they saw last year, attempting to snatch a newborn from the cradle, was far from a hero.
Whatever he was, he would have made off with said newborn. Tobias Jackson, firstborn of Percy and Annabeth Jackson. Born on their wedding day, no less. Little mite wanted to be a part of the special occasion.
He had been only hours old when this Luke reformed, this sly malignant beast adopting a trustworthy guise and lies. Louisa had seen straight through it, alarm bells ringing from the get-go. She had been there, waiting, ready. Tobias had been saved, but the price?
The price…
A year.
Louisa frowned, straightened her spine. No. A year to save her nephew. She would do it again. Every hurt, every burn, every break, every… every night. A year to keep her family safe, a small price to pay.
You'll be broken down to nothing more than a shell of your current self.
Aphrodite had said that once. Everyone else got tea and scones and Louisa had got… that.
The goddess hadn't been wrong. It had taken a year, but she had not been wrong.
Luke— easier to call him Luke, call it Luke— had wanted a baby of the Big Three. To take them, raise them as his own, shape them in his image and tutor them in his wrath. Louisa had stopped him taking Tobias, spared the infant from that life.
Luke was quick to recover though. He could not take the baby before him, but the daughter of Neptune in his path… she would do nicely.
Louisa felt her eyes droop, digging her fingers into her thigh. No, she would not fall asleep, she would not.
Luke wanted a Big Three baby; he wanted that power. With Louisa in his grasp, he was going to do everything he could possibly do to get that Big Three baby. Whether Louisa gave in or not.
She did not give in. She fought his magic and his drugs, turned aside his food, grit her teeth and curled her fists at each new pain lancing through her. Shocks and burns and cuts and lashes, but she refused to cry out. Time went on. She got weaker. He got what he wanted.
No-one had come looking for her, he liked to say. All her power, all her strength, wasted protecting those she cared about and how did they return the favour?
They didn't.
She didn't want to believe him. Kept fighting, kept pushing back, never made things easy for him. He was quick to restrain her, celestial bronze chains anchoring each limb. His plan was easier to execute that way, especially once lack of food wore her down.
Things changed. No-one showed up. She had to get out— it wasn't just herself at stake anymore.
Pride had bested her until that point. She had got herself out of countless situations before, so why should this one be any different? She endured. She was the sea and the sea endured. No-one could beat the sea.
The chains had been an issue, resisting her power and her strength, resisting every futile attempt. She had had to break the ground around the fastenings, a little bit of earthquake magic, coiling the chains around her forearms.
That was the first time she had tried to escape. Luke's magic hit her, fighting to put her to sleep. She fought back, endured, staggering towards the staircase.
The magic had slowed her reactions though, blurred her vision almost to blindness. She didn't see Luke until he was on top of her, breaking her legs with a metal bar.
She healed quickly. That's where most of her power went, healing herself despite the lack of water. The sea was within her. She had the ability to let it out, so she did. Her bones healed. Her skin scarred time and again. She kept trying.
Luke had thought ahead this time around. Celestial bronze chains, celestial bronzes fastenings and celestial bronze on the floor and the walls.
The second time she waited. Waited for the night, for when he came in. Waited for him to be otherwise occupied with her. She had spent hours straining against the chains, hours pulling on every reserve. The celestial bronze would not break, but it bent. One final yank and she wrenched her left arm free, the fastenings striking the floor in a cacophony of stone on metal. She had ripped out part of the ceiling.
She moved quickly, looping the chain around his neck and pulling it taut. He choked and, swinging her weight on her right arm, she got her right leg free and kicked him off her. She kept the chain tight around his neck until he was blue, until his eyes rolled back. The key hung over his chest. She snatched it, unlocking herself.
Making a run for the same staircase as before, aching all over, fatigue and misuse wracking her frame.
She had her hand on the door. She had been so close.
That was the day she discovered he could not die. This monster, whatever it was, got up. Breathed again, freed itself from its noose of links. She remembered the door, remembered a chink of daylight as she opened it and then agony.
Blinding, white-hot agony all up her spine, erupting in her head like the masterbolt itself.
When she awoke, shivering and bound once again, she found she could not move. Whatever he had done had wrecked her spine. She was paralysed.
That was what took her so long. Day after day, night after night, for weeks or months or gods knew how long. Force-fed, regaining some of the weight she had worked so hard to lose. It was in this time Luke got what he wanted.
She began to get sick. Everything hurt. Things changed. One day, she found she could move her fingers. The next day, her hand. Luke still visited, though sometimes just to sit and stare at her, defeated on the floor. He almost glowed with gleeful malice, with pride at his accomplishment.
He thought he had brought down the great daughter of Neptune, undefeated by all god, Titan, monster and by every force wishing her heart simply stopped.
Louisa glared. Her heart thumped defiantly in her chest. She could feel flutters in her stomach by the time she regained motion in her legs.
She was weak. So long without moving, her body had wasted. She could hardly stand, let alone break free from the chains.
Dad, she found herself thinking, you know I wouldn't ask if I wasn't desperate, but… She glanced down, eyes prickling. I'm desperate. Help me get out of here 'n'… 'n' I'll never swear at you again or… or I'll burn all the food you want, I dunno. I'll work out the terms later, just… help me get home. Please.
She had not expected a response. Not a peep, not a thing, not even a passing glance. Her dad seldom answered her, not unless it suited him. She had toiled and suffered and lost under his name and he had never once said thank you or sorry.
So, when the scent of the sea filled the room and her lungs, she cried. Energy flooded her body and she could stand. For that brief moment, she was herself again, everything forgotten.
A stir in her stomach.
No, not everything forgotten.
Clothed only in the stained tunic Luke had allowed her, once white, now brown and red with time and blood, she made it out of the room. The chains fell away like they were no stronger than cobwebs. Luke was nowhere to be seen.
Up the stairs. The sunlight seared her eyes, flares of blue-black splodges upon opening the door. She walked out blindly, blinking tears away and vision back in.
She had no idea where she was. The door she had come through was just a door set in a concrete block. She had been underground all this time.
Rough, dried grass underfoot, gravel and concrete as she kept going. She looked at everything, taking in every tree, every leaf, every cloud, every bird, everything, everything. The world was real. She hadn't dreamt it.
She stumbled along, coming to a river. She waded in with a sob, the water crisp coursing over her. Blood and grime fell away from her. She scrubbed at herself, her arms, her legs, feeling cleaner than she had in a long time.
She drank her fill upstream. Found an apple tree, the fruit sweet and nectar-like. She threw some in the river. I'll get more later, Dad. I promise.
Scanning the skies, she breathed in deeply. Earth and woods and river and free.
She curled her fingers in her mouth, whistling sharply. The sound carried in the openness; birds took flight in surprise. Louisa almost laughed. She did not know how long her father's power would sustain her so she had to get somewhere she could fix herself up.
The sea called to her and for her to answer, she needed a ride.
A black speck appeared amongst the clouds, growing fast. Soon, she could see wings. Shortly after that, she heard shouting in her head.
WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN?!
"Storm!" she called, reaching up. "Storm!" The pegasus nearly crashed into her, landing heavily, her wing grazing Louisa's head. She swung about, stomping her hooves and tossing her mane. She headbutted Louisa, swearing.
I have been looking everywhere for you! Why… why are you crying?
Louisa hadn't been able to say it then, overcome and dissolving into a sobbing mess. She hugged her pegasus, crying into the mane tangled with leaves, clinging to the warm, solid being that smelled of fur and grass and hay. Someone had been looking for her.
Storm couldn't get much out of her. Neptune's power was fading now help had arrived.
The mare knelt down so Louisa could climb on. She took off like a bullet once her rider was secure.
She made straight for the sea. Her human was hurt and feeble and sick. Nothing would be better for her than the sea.
It took weeks to get home again, only travelling by coastlines. Louisa needed rest. She needed to eat without bringing it back up. She had to stop for the bathroom regularly.
You got a bladder problem? Storm huffed after the fifth stop of the morning. Louisa shook her head. What then? Storm lifted her head from munching on grass, ears flattening. Are you OK?
"No," Louisa said. She blinked, sniffed. Storm edged closer, moving slowly. Her rider flinched if she went too quickly and that was most odd— Louisa did not flinch.
You can tell me, Storm said gently. I won't tell anyone.
Storm was and would be the only one that knew the whole story. It took some coaxing; she lay her head in Louisa's lap as she cried. Louisa did not flinch and she did not cry. Not like this.
Later, everything told, everything revealed, Storm sat with her. Louisa liked the familiar presence, her years-long companion dependable, strong, unwavering. They sat like that until the sun went down. The stars came out. Louisa fell into a fitful sleep. She only awoke when Storm dragged her into the surf, the sunrise splaying the water with pinks and oranges.
Louisa spent a lot of her time in the sea. She always brought in food, as promised, always minded her language. Then they would fly or ride again for a few hours before she needed another refresh.
Her scars did not heal, nor would they ever. But the sea rejuvenated her. Some dreg of her old self surfaced underwater and she clung to it.
She was Louisa, daughter of Neptune, undefeated by all. This would not break her either.
It was late June when they finally reached home. Newspapers caught her up on the date as they braved city centres for a map. They did not linger. The crowds hid dangers. She had no weapon— she had lost her watch the night she saved Tobias.
He'd be a year old now, she thought, examining the newspaper on the beach that evening. Can he walk at that age?
A pungent smell filled her nose, drawing her gaze upwards. She could hardly believe her eyes.
"Storm! What are you doin'?!"
Oh, what? You can go to the loo, but I can't?
"In the fire?"
Yeah. How else am I supposed to get a message to the gods?
"That's disgustin'."
But warranted. Louisa gagged, covering her mouth and nose with the newspaper, crumpling its pages.
Storm whickered proudly, flicking stray flames from her tail. The gods could do nothing against her— weakened or not, her human was still the godkiller. They would have to suck up her offering and choke on it too, with a bit of luck.
Louisa scrambled away to find breathable air. Storm realised then it was quite poignant and trotted after her.
The gods deserved it. There was no end to their torment, no rest for her rider, and it all came because of them.