Percy woke up, holding his head with one hand. There was a burning sensation in his left arm, but a pleasant warmth in his feet. He opened his eyes and tried to get his bearings. What happened? The last thing he remembered was the labyrinth, the Telchines, Mount St. Helens erupting, and then…Annabeth. She was there with him, right before the explosion. He remembered kissing her, but he couldn't tell if that was just because he'd hit head. Was she alive? He prayed to the gods she was. Wherever he was, he needed to get back to Camp Half-Blood as soon as possible.

Percy tried to stand, but groaned in pain before falling back into the sand. He was on a beach, palm trees swaying in a slight breeze, not a single cloud in the sky. If he wasn't feeling like death himself, it would've been a pretty nice vacation spot.

He crawled over towards the water, wincing at the burning in his arm. The salty wind made it sting. He needed to gather enough strength to get back on his feet, and try to find help. There had to be someone on this island, or at least a boat or something. After an hour of limping around the island, he was ready to take a break under the shadow of a hill, until he caught something in the corner of his eye. It was a swingset, adorned with flowers. He sighed. Maybe someone lived here after all.

He walked towards the swing, leaning on the tree. On the bottom side of the hill, there was a small cottage. Beside it was a garden, full of all kinds of fruits and vegetables that Percy didn't know the name of. A calming scent surrounded the place. Somehow, he knew he was safe here. He went to knock on the door, but got no response. After a few moments, he sighed, then went inside. This was an emergency–surely whoever lived here would understand.

The inside was just as beautiful as the outside. Paintings and wooden furniture, all beautifully arranged and adorned, surrounded the center of what must've been a living room. Around the corner was a small kitchen, with a head of cabbage sitting on the cutting board. Maybe I should wait outside, Percy thought to himself, I don't want to–

His thoughts were cut off by a loud yelp. Standing by the door was a girl, who had a shocked look on her face. She dropped her basket on the ground, spilling dead fish all over the floor. She held the empty basket like a knife.

"Who are you? Did the gods send you? Why are you in my home?"

"Woah, woah!" Percy put up his hands, "I don't know how I got here. All I know is I passed out, and woke up on the beach."

They studied each other for a moment. She looked at his wounded arm, and then at his tattered shirt. She seemed to be about the same age as Percy. He was surprised. By the looks of it, he thought a family lived here.

She sighed disappointedly, lowering the basket. She muttered something about Zeus in Ancient Greek, something that Percy didn't want to repeat.

"How do you know Ancient Greek? Are you a demigod too?"

"No. I am Calypso, daughter of Atlas. Welcome to Ogygia."

"You're Calypso? I thought you were like, a thousand years old."

Percy immediately wished he'd kept his mouth shut. Calypso looked at him

sourly.

"Sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

"You could've at least sent me one a little less dull," she said to the ceiling.

"Gee. Thanks," Percy said.

"Oh, just give it a couple of weeks. A boat will come to take you home."

"Two weeks?"

Calypso laughed. "Yes. That's hardly anything, young hero, even less so to me. But do not worry. Time in Ogygia runs slower. Two weeks here may be less than an hour in the mortal world."

The stories began to come back to him. Calypso had been banished by Zeus thousands of years ago, cursed to wander the island of Ogygia for all eternity. Atlas was her father. He remembered fighting him last year, but decided it wasn't the best time to bring that up. Heroes of all sorts would get marooned on the island, but in the end, nobody decided to stay on Ogygia with her. She was cursed to be here alone for eternity.

"Is there any way I can get back sooner? My friends at camp need me. I need to warn them about an attack."

"Always the heroic type," Calypso shook her head. "No. There's nothing you can do. Two weeks from now, a boat will appear by the shore. That is your chance to leave. If you decide not to leave, you will be stuck here forever, as I am."

Percy gulped. His hair was matted to his forehead, sweaty from the sun. He felt his stomach rumble. Calypso's expression softened.

"Well, lucky for you, you're here just in time for dinner. I hope you like fish."

"Thank you. But uh, is there a bath around here? I probably smell worse than the fish."

She rolled her eyes. "On the other side of the cottage–there's a warm spring. You can go there."

Percy felt much better after the bath. He willed his clothes dry, then frowned. His shirt was torn up from the explosion. Maybe Calypso had a spare change of clothes lying around.

The smell from the kitchen made his whole body relax. It reminded him of when his mom made dinner on the weekends, when Gabe was out partying with his friends. Fresh onions, basil and tomato, with a little bit of smoke in the air. If they wanted to be fancy, they'd sometimes put a pinch of cilantro. They couldn't afford to go to restaurants very often, so it was sort of like their way of pretending. He wished more than ever that he could be back home with his mom.

"That looks amazing," Percy said.

"Thank you. I assumed you would be rather hungry, so I made a few extra tacos."

"I didn't know titans had to eat," Percy said, his mouth full.

"We don't. But it's rather nice," Calypso said, "and I've learned quite a bit from all of the other demigods."

"Have you ever tried to leave the island before?" Percy asked.

Calypso tensed up a little.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to–"

"No, it is ok. I have tried before, but clearly nothing has worked so far. If I swim, I find myself back on Ogygia. If I sail, the same happens. If I leave with a hero, the boat will simply not move. Trust me, I have tried everything."

"I'm really sorry. That sounds terrible."

She nodded.

"You know, I met another with your name before. You are very much alike."

They looked at each other for a moment. Calypso put another log on the fire. The sun had begun to set beneath the cove, and the sand became cool under his feet.

"You are a son of Poseidon."

"How can you tell?"

"Your eyes are the same color as your brother, Odysseus."

"He came here too?"

"Yes. And he left, like all the others."

Percy thought for a moment.

"Maybe when I leave, I can come back for you. Even if you can't leave with me, I can still visit you. I could remind the gods about you, maybe try and get them to take away your curse."

Calypso laughed.

"I appreciate your compassion, Percy. But they will not listen to you, or me. The gods are not bad, but they are not good either. This is my punishment for being the daughter of a titan."

"That's stupid," Percy frowned, "I've talked to Zeus before. Sure, he can be headstrong, like, really headstrong–but maybe there's a chance he'd listen."

"I suppose I cannot stop you from trying," she said, "but if you die, that is your fault."

"Yeah, I hear that a lot," Percy smirked.

For a moment, he thought he saw Calypso smile.

The next morning, Percy woke up to find a change of clothes by his sleeping mat. They fit him perfectly. He spent the day in the water, trying to heal the burn on his arm. It soothed the pain, but the scar stayed there. Percy grew worried. This had never happened before. Maybe because time was slowed down, his powers were slowed down too. He confirmed this by trying to control the water, like he had done so many times, but all he could muster was a small blob of water.

Calypso was outside tending to the garden, wearing a long sun hat. Percy saw that she mostly kept busy, whether it was planting seeds, cooking, fishing, or building something new on the island. She tried not to talk to him too much, but during the night, they would eat together and Percy would try to learn more about her.

Calypso knew nothing of the outside world. Ogygia was completely cut off. Yet, there was something about it that he felt drawn to. Sure, things weren't very eventful, but at least they were peaceful. There weren't any prophecies to worry about, or monsters to fight, or gods to pray to. After what felt like a lifetime of fighting, Percy could finally relax.

The next day, Percy discovered his old pair of clothes had been fixed. The holes were sewn up. He found Calypso in the garden, and without waiting for confirmation started to yank out the weeds. She didn't complain, and for the rest of the day they worked through her daily tasks together. As a result, they were finished by noon. Since there was nothing else to do, they sat and talked by the shore. Percy asked her what she did to pass the time. She said she liked weaving and enjoying the beauty of the island. She apologized for being so sour to him earlier, and that it was simply because it got lonely after a while. Percy said it was ok, and that he knew what it was like to be alone.

The next morning, Percy found her by the swings. There were two seats now instead of one. She must've woken up early to tie up a new one. They smiled at each other, and watched the sun rise before getting to work.

They often talked about the gods, and the outside world. Calypso had a seemingly endless amount of questions, which Percy happily answered. He told her about Camp Half-Blood, Luke, Kronos, and everything that had happened up until now. It saddened her to know the state of the world, but was glad to know there were people fighting back. She was surprised when he told her he had fought Atlas, and even more surprised when he said he'd defeated him.

"My father can be a piece of work," she shook her head.

But when he mentioned Annabeth, Calypso seemed to sink away, and the questions stopped.

On the tenth morning, Percy had a dream. He saw Camp Half-Blood, the golden fleece on the pine tree, shining brightly in the night. He saw campfires roar while demigods cheered and raised their weapons. Annabeth was there, and so was Grover. Everyone was happy. Everyone was safe. Chiron and Mr. D were both raising a cup of wine. Mr. D had been allowed to break his rule, just for this night.

He woke up, and immediately it hit him. Percy would have to leave soon. But how could he? He looked at Calypso in the next room, sleeping peacefully. She seemed so much happier than when he had first arrived. Percy doubted himself. Did the mortal world really need him? Would his friends be safe, so long as he was around? Had even one minute passed since he'd landed in Ogygia? Percy couldn't bring himself to just abandon Calypso, not after everything that she'd done for him. But there was also selfishness tugging at him. He felt he deserved to have a little bit of peace for himself, after everything that had happened. Maybe the prophecy would never come true if he stayed here. Maybe it was for the best.

But more than anything, he felt his chest rise with a new kind of feeling, one he hadn't felt before, not even for Annabeth.