"Woohoo!" Rachel flung her arms up in the air, sailing over the steps, her dress swirling as curly red hair whipped across her face. The hot summer breeze brushed against her scalp, fanning the already wild locks into a fiery halo. Her gleaming black shoes landed against the pavement with a rhythmic tap. Then she felt it. She sucked in a breath as the wind ceased along with her momentum. Gone was the momentary relief as the metropolitan oven reclaimed her, licking her skin through loose shirts, siphoning away the damp flush before drawing more sweat with its heat.
"Wow, are you okay?" Percy asked, jumping the same flight of stairs as he dropped by Rachel's side. Her friend must have felt the same thing, as he was quick to hiss through his teeth like a startled cat—pink lips pulled into a grimace, perky nose scrunched ever so slightly, and large, sea-green eyes creased under thick, long lashes.
In moments like these, Rachel would forget that Percy was a boy and mistake him for a girl. However, that notion had been dashed earlier in the week when she confronted the teacher about it in secret. Percy was a boy, no doubt—the school's records affirmed it.
The final ring of the bell signaled the start of their eagerly awaited freedom, and the atmosphere buzzed with the energy of the burgeoning summer break. While other kids rushed for their parents, the two of them ran for the sedan by the curb with a suited man at attention beside the open door.
"Thank you!" They cheered in unison, burrowing into the car, and scuffling onto the cool leather seats. The chauffeur greeted in response as he shut the door, sealing away the feverish, summer haze.
"Off to our first stop, then!" Rachel pumped her fist through air-conditioned winds. The sedan rolled onto the streets, weaving silently through the busy avenues of Manhattan. As they navigated the ebb of yellow cabs and amber lights, Rachel and Percy huddled over a notebook that unfolded into doodled maps, taped images, and stapled notes. It was their ultimate plan for summer. Time flew, and at the dutiful reminder of the driver, their impromptu session of brainstorming ended. They have arrived at their first destination.
Hopping off, the duo was greeted by a wall of hot air. For the second time in the short afternoon, they hissed as the city's breath enveloped them. Spanning before them was a cheerful building splashed with murals of suns, moons, and stars. Their eyes scanned the throng of rowdy kindergarteners, searching for a familiar mop of red.
"What are you two doing here?" A calm voice intoned against their ears.
Rachel and Percy squeaked as they jumped around in sync. "Emmie!"
Standing by them on the sweltering afternoon sidewalk, against the passing figures of parents and children, was a boy dressed in a simple t-shirt and shorts, backpack slung over a single shoulder, and an eyebrow arched over golden-brown eyes.
"We've come to kidnap you! To a great adventure!" Rachel declared, a wide grin spreading across her face.
"Yeah, kidnap!" Percy popped the word.
Emmie's gaze shifted between them, a faint look of resignation flickering across his features. "I presume by 'adventure' you mean one of your spontaneous escapades. One that you've failed to plan through?"
"Nuh-uh, we have it all planned out," Percy crossed his arms.
Rachel nodded and huffed, appreciating her friend's support. Surely, with their combined front of responsible demeanor, Emmie would finally regard her with respect deserving of the elder sibling. It's summertime, and she will show him her awesomeness as the big sister.
Her brother sighed. "Very well. Give me a moment." He walked over to a stern-looking man a few paces away. They exchanged a few words, and the man vanished into a sedan identical to the one Rachel and Percy had ridden and drove off. The young boy returned to them.
"All set. Where to?"
Rachel swung behind Emmie and grabbed his shoulders, marching him on like a tin soldier. Percy grinned at them, the soft contours of his face catching the afternoon blare. Once more, in an instance all too often, Rachel found herself thinking how much he resembled a girl. She swiftly banished the thought. There were priorities at hand.
"First stop," the redhead announced, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm, "the candy shop!"
"This," Emiya gestured atop the mezzanine, "is not a candy shop."
Grand Central Terminal sprawled before them, its vast space echoing with the symphony of clicking heels, rolling suitcases, and the muted drone of conversations. High above, the celestial ceiling stretched out—a turquoise sky dotted with faded constellations, guiding travelers far below.
"Lead the way, Perce!"
"Hmm," the tomboy held her chin, "let's go around this way, then. They're fixing something there." She pointed to the yellow tapes strewn across the wrecked stonework of broken railings.
Behind them, one of the three soaring clerestories of the entrance bathed the spacious hall with more intensity than its twins. Dead center in the paneled glass was a jagged hole, punched through by some unknown projectile. On the concourse below, a distance away and boxed in by some orange cones was a clean diamond-shaped hole that ran deep into the stone floors.
Emiya raised a brow. He was surprised by the lack of progress in repairs.
"Emmie, don't worry," Rachel nudged him. "Perce said his mom works here, at one of the food stalls. We won't get lost!"
Sparing the older redhead a dubious glance, he followed the raven-haired girl down the marble staircase.
Over a week had passed. Rachel had invited Percy each afternoon, not a single day missed. Somehow, all the hours spent sitting side-by-side, scribbling on their homework, and munching away on snacks did nothing to rouse Rachel's suspicion that her friend might not be a boy. It had been an amusing sight, initially. A week later, that big pot of amusement stirring in his chest gained just a dash of pity. Poor girl, bumbling around, believing her friend was a boy. He would make sure to hold this over her head for a long time to come.
Birds of a feather flock together—these two idiots were meant for each other.
"It's right in front," Percy pointed excitedly as she led their group. "See?"
Down the corridor, among the hustle of booths offering fruits, beverages, and pastries, a stall stood out, decked in red, white, and blue. The large fonts on the hanging plaque read: Sweet on America!
Emiya suppressed the twitch of his lips.
"Wow, cool! Let's go!" Rachel blurred past him. "C'mon Emmie, hurry up!"
As they neared the shop, the two kids charging in front, his sneaking suspicion was confirmed by the figure of a woman—curly brown hair, striking blue eyes, and a gentle smile hooking her lips. It was the same woman who thought it a splendid idea to throw candies at a frenzied Cyclops.
Sally Jackson. Rachel had spoken of this beautiful and kind lady. The girl had been quick to make friends with Percy's mother as well. They spoke on the daily when the woman visited school to collect her daughter—a failing endeavor, established by the routine appearance of a bewildered Percy at the Dare residence.
"Mom!"
Sally jumped. "Percy?"
"Hi, Ms. Jackson!"
"Rachel? What are you kids doing here?"
"I brought friends, Mom," Percy circled the counter and flung herself onto Sally. "It's summer break, the school's finally over, and we're gonna have so~ much fun."
"And we have everything planned. You're our first stop, Ms. Jackson." Rachel grinned, fishing a stuffed booklet from her backpack. "It's finally complete!"
"Wow. That is very impressive Rachel. You guys have everything sorted out, don't you?"
"Yup. Percy and I have been working on it for all of last week. Ah—" The girl spun on her heels and dashed behind Emiya, approaching from a few paces behind. "And I brought my baby brother, Emmie! Emmie, say hello to Ms. Jackson!"
"I'm Emiya." Thrust forward by Rachel, he found himself halting in front of a rounded, pastry-filled display. Behind the assorted glass cabinet, curious blue orbs studied him. "Thanks for entertaining Rachel. I've heard great things about you from the girl."
The woman chuckled. "I'm so glad to finally meet you, Emiya. Percy and Rachel couldn't go a few sentences without your cooking. I have to say, the macrons were delicious. The most delicious I've ever had, in fact. Percy absolutely loved them. He was so sad when we finished it all."
Emiya paused—even the woman was referring to her daughter as a boy. Perhaps he was too quick to judge Rachel. After all, it seemed Sally was also playing this game. Despite being in the privy. Or, maybe, she was the one who started this whole endeavor. A cute demigod daughter in a world populated by empowered manchilds with unchecked libido? That would certainly be a problem.
"Mom!" The tomboy plucked her head out of her mother's hug.
"You even cleaned the box and kept it, no?"
"S-so I can return it! I cleaned it so I can return it!"
"It's a paper box, darling."
Percy groaned and buried her flushed face back into Sally's uniform. The woman smiled as she rubbed her daughter's head.
"So, Ms. Jackson," Rachel pressed against the pastry display. She was about to plant her fingerprints all over the glass when Emiya caught her wrists.
"Hands, Rachel."
Sally giggled in surprise.
Rachel pouted but largely ignored him. "About the trip to Montauk, do you think we can all go together?"
"Percy and I would love to, but are you sure it's alright, Rachel? Did you talk this over with your parents?"
"Yup. Mom and dad said it was a-okay! We have all the expenses covered! Mom might tag along, but dad probably won't, he's always busy."
"Rachel" Sally nodded with a bit of hesitance, "It's great that your parents agreed, but I'm not sure if it's alright for your family to cover all the spending…"
"Oh, don't worry Ms. Jackson, mom and dad don't care about this type of thing!"
"Well," she eventually acquiesced. Emiya could tell the woman was still uncomfortable with the idea, but Percy and Rachel's big, doe eyes must've worn her defenses. "Why don't you let me talk to your mother? Or your father. Either one is fine. I can confirm the trip that way. Do you have their contact?"
Rachel grinned cheekily. "I've got it right here," she declared, yanking a slip of paper from her stuffed booklet. "I already knew you were gonna ask, teehee."
Chuckling in exasperation, Sally beckoned towards them. "That's very thoughtful of you, Rachel. Why don't you kids come in and sit on the bench? My shift will be over in half an hour. In the meantime, you can choose the candies or pastries you want, it's on me."
"Wow, thanks, mom!" Percy peeled herself off Sally.
"Thank you, Ms. Jackson!"
They entered the stall. Rachel extended the paper note and the woman reached for it. Sally's sleeves pulled back ever so slightly. His focus shifted. Camouflaged under the shadows of her cuffs was a patch of discolored skin. He glanced away before Rachel could release the slip and followed Percy to one of the cabinets.
"…My hunters had found them writhing in the ground. There were no visible wounds. No traces of poison or toxin. Their confession points to some type of mental assault. According to the creatures, the feeling was akin to having a sword thrust into their skulls." His sister's voice echoed in the chamber.
"And they were located in a perimeter outside of New York City? All of them?" A voice cuts through with precision.
"Indeed. The epicenter appears to be in the Upper East Side of Manhattan. The current hypothesis points towards a demigod triggering the tracking magic through electronics."
"Lamia's spell, then. That would be quite the powerful demigod. And if they were ignorant of such a basic mistake, they must be young… To be this powerful at such an age…"
The constant murmuring in the hall ceased. A palpable tension crept over the room. Apollo popped off his earbuds as he looked up along with the others. Their attention funneled towards the head of the thrones, flickering between two males.
Outside, the afternoon glaze dimmed. Nymphs and deities gazed up as grey clouds gathered above the floating city. The air was dense with the smell of ozone and laced with the brine of oceans.
Silence hung in the throne room. At the center of the hall, the burning hearth flickered as a young girl with fiery eyes tended to the flames. The tension eased just a bit.
"However, there are also other concerns," Athena chose to speak again, shifting the topic away from the doubts she had roused. "The mental attack makes this quite the particular case. I am not aware of any demigods with such abilities."
Apollo felt a grin creep into his expression as he interjected for the first time. "That would require quite the understanding of magic to interfere. And at the very least, to be able to sense it. Who knows? Perhaps it's a child of Hecate or even Hecate herself?"
"It couldn't be a demigod. The area of effect was too massive." His sister denied his suggestion.
"C'mon, sis—"
Artemis glowered.
"—Maybe it is a once-in-a-lifetime genius. A millennium prodigy in magic. You never know." He shrugged in nonchalance.
Athena ignored his suggestion, turning to Artemis. "We can address that later. For now, is there anything else the council should be aware of?"
"The city of New York," Artemis looked towards the head throne, where their father sat, "we have not found any cases of monster activities."
"When did this begin?" Athena asked.
"Sometime after the summer two years ago. There was a steep drop in activities. And then it reached zero. If not absolute zero, it at least approximates that number."
A few of the gods raised their eyebrows. Others remained distracted with their businesses. Apollo yawned.
Then, a deep voice reached his ears, interrupting a contemplating Artemis. Zeus finally spoke. "How similar is the situation to that of Boston's?"
"It's not as absolute." His sister considered her words. "From what was observed over the past two years, hostile creatures are eliminated upon entering the city premises. The process is not instantaneous and may take up to a few days. Although this mental assault might be a new form of deterrence, it is fundamentally different from Boston. There isn't an overhanging presence throughout the city. Whatever is in Manhattan is an active mechanism. It kills monsters, but it takes time. The thing in Boston is passive and... much more potent."
A pigeon landed on the railings that extended into the air and crowned the high-rise rooftop. Wind was the only music at this height.
Emiya gazed out from the edge of the helipad, his hair and clothes flapping at a slow, disordered pace. Lower Manhattan lay before him across the vast channel of East River, wedged between the waters and the clouds.
Seagulls flew in the distance, circling the Upper Bay where the statue of a colossal woman raised a torch. The sky was clear. No humanoids with bat-like wings. No overgrown, fire-breathing lizards. The only peculiarity was the ball of flames soaring high above—a golden chariot absent of charge.
Summer Solstice. Today was the day. For once, the owner had not placed it on autopilot because he was elsewhere, fooling around. The gods were having their biannual report. That was twelve less trouble roaming the city. Emiya found that a fitting occasion to mark the departure for their summer trip.
It had been another week since the meeting with Sally Jackson. During this window, Rachel and Percy had made a few more trips to the candy store, not sparing him from being dragged along. The pleading of the girls and the reassurance from Rachel's mom, Jennifer, had been enough to convince Sally to take the vacation.
A horn sounded from the river beneath. A ship sailed under the Brooklyn Bridge, emerging from its shadowed skeleton. Emiya scanned the horizon one last time and turned around. There was nothing else to see.
He'd best return downstairs before Rachel started throwing a fuss about where her brother was. She had been very excitable today. After all, the trip with the Jacksons begins this afternoon.
"Artemis, keep an eye on New York."
"Lord Zeus, my hunt and I have the role of vanquishing monsters. We cannot be chained down to a single city if we were to fulfill our duty."
"…Very well. Does anyone volunteer?" Zeus glanced around the thrones. "There are some Olympians who loiter in Manhattan. An extra task is not a big ask. Aphrodite?"
"Ah, yes," said the goddess as she ran her hands through her dichromatic hair. Apollo and a few other gods, male or female, stared at her form. He had to admit, this new appearance of hers was stunning, even when compared to her other looks. The skull-adorning wings were a spectacularly artistic decision. "I wouldn't mind. I have some business of my own in the city. Therefore—"
"Actually," Apollo interjected cheerfully, "I volunteer myself to oversee this task."
The council looked at him dubiously. Athena, Artemis, and Aphrodite furrowed their brows. He almost laughed as an itch tickled at him to call out their identical expression but stopped himself as he imagined a beating from all three goddesses.
"What?" He shrugged.
Athena sighed. "Apollo, this isn't some game. Olympus is based in New York City. If this develops into another Boston, the consequences are… unknown."
"Oh, I fully understand. Don't you worry. The grand responsibility of safeguarding our thrones. The quest to vanquish the lurking evils in the shadows of Olympus. This duty shall fall upon, I, Apollo the Golden—Great Protector of the Olympians!" He announced with a flourish, flashing his teeth as he straightened from a bow.
He ignored the twitch in his father's and his sister's temples. Ares grumbled something in the background. Aphrodite rolled her eyes.
A golden strand of hair fell across Apollo's shades. His lips pulled into a smirk. "I quite like the ring to that."
"All done," Silena announced, spinning the young girl around by the shoulders.
Lacy studied her reflection in the mirror. The leather armor was a few sizes too big for her. It overlapped on her sides while leaving too much room around her chest. A couple of straps were wrapped twice around her, and the laces were all tied in excessively large knots, dangling off her like some eccentric ornaments from far-off lands.
The young child pouted as she fiddled with the chest piece, comparing herself to her sister's lithe and beautiful fit.
"Aww," Silena cooed, giving the girl a pinch on the cheeks. "Don't worry, you'll grow up soon enough. Then you can pick whatever armor you want, whether it's enchanted leather or celestial bronze."
A knock sounded on the door of their cabin. They were greeted by a blonde girl with stormy grey eyes. Lacy had learned her name to be Annabeth, a child of Athena. She was on patrol duty with Silena during Lacy's night of arrival. They were the first two people she met from camp and had been very supportive in getting her accustomed to her new life.
"Hmm," Annabeth studied the younger girl. "Not bad. But it is a little big. We'll see if some campers have retired gear that may fit you. Otherwise, we'll have to get you a custom one. But that may take a while. Silena, I'll take her in the meantime, then?"
"She's all yours," the eldest girl sang. She knelt on Lacy's level, her blue eyes gentle and smiling. "I'll see you at dinner tonight, okay? After Capture the Flags."
Lacy nodded. "See you at dinner! And good luck!"
The two girls strolled through camp, Annabeth taking the lead. Each step they took was cushioned by the springy turf, baked soft by the afternoon rays. The air tasted of the wet, lukewarm, and bitter tang of grass. Campers greeted them as they hurried by with armor and weapons. Little by little, the cluttered backdrop of people faded. The duo arrived at the edge of a forest, the main infrastructures a distance away in the meadows.
"This is where Capture the Flag is hosted every Friday," Annabeth began. "Normally, the campers are divided by their cabins into two teams. Victory belongs to the group that steals the flag from their enemies first."
Nodding along, Lacy followed the older girl into the woods. Their feet crunched against the occasional twig. Shortly after, the sound of rushing water reached their ears. The trees opened into a knee-deep creek with pastured banks on both sides. Beneath the crystal stream was a riverbed of pebbles and stones.
"Wow," Lacy muttered as she edged forward, studying the current, her reflection wobbling back at her.
Annabeth approached from behind and waded into the creek. A satisfied grin graced her expression as she sighed, "C'mon, it feels great."
Quicker than she could react, Lacy found herself hoisted into the water. A startled squeak escaped the kindergartener as she shifted around, submerged to the waist. The biting chill drew a shiver from her—it was the perfect remedy against the summer heat.
"Like it?"
"Yeah! This feels so nice…" Lacy muttered, watching the water break around her hips.
"Yup. Zephyros Creek, one of the best spots at camp during the hotter months." The older girl nodded with satisfaction. "It also acts as the boundary between the teams for Capture the Flag. The ones that cross the river first with the enemy flag win."
"Will you be playing tonight?"
"I hope. But that most likely won't happen." Annabeth shrugged. "There are not many hunters, so the number of campers is also limited. Chiron's going to select the most experienced of us. And, well, I'm only nine… although Luke will definitely participate," she muttered the last bit.
Luke Castellan. He was one of the older demigods at camp. Both Annabeth and Silena seemed to have a crush on the tall blonde who wore a scar on his face. In Lacy's opinion, he was good-looking and kind, but she had someone else occupying her thoughts. There's no space nor energy to house another boy in her mind.
"What about Silena? Will Chiron choose her?"
"Probably not, most children of Aphrodite are uninterested in this type of activity. No offense."
Lacy nodded. She agreed with the sentiment. Plus, Emiya had already convinced her that being a princess was much better than being a hero. Adventures were fun, but they were also filled with dirt and grime. She wriggled her sandaled toes, feeling the currents caress her digits—this, this was enjoyable. Blood and mud? Not so much.
Puttering in the streams for a while, the girls resumed their trek as Annabeth introduced the different parts of the forest. Eventually, with their clothes dripping wet and cooling in the balmy breeze, the two arrived at a large pile of rocks. Its structural resemblance to feces did not escape Lacy.
Annabeth stopped before the stones and stared. A gust swept by, and the grass turned a lighter shade where the wind passed. Lacy felt the goosebumps across her skin as the moisture left.
She took on a worried expression as the older girl stood silently. "A-Annabeth?"
"O-Oh…" Stormy grey eyes turned around. For the first time, they seemed unfocused to Lacy. "Did you say something? Sorry, I was lost in thoughts…"
"Are you okay? You look—" Lacy swallowed. "You… are you sad?"
Annabeth smiled. It was lame. Forced. It wasn't the smart, knowing, and sometimes nerdy one that Lacy saw her wear all the time.
"I well… I know those rocks look like, well, like a pile of poop. So, we could leave if you want—"
Thunder boomed overhead. Lacy squeaked.
Annabeth broke into a coughing fit. "L-Lacy! Th-That's Zeus' Fist… P-Please don't refer to it as… as what you just said. Lord Zeus isn't too keen on that description regarding something named after him…"
Lacy paled as she began to babble, "I-I s-so sorry, L-Lord Ze-Zeus…! I d-didn't kn-know…!"
After a long-winded and incomprehensible apology, the two girls peered up, checking for thunderclouds that might deliver lightning on their frantic forms.
"That was so scary…" Lacy mumbled while sniffling.
"I-It's alright. Just… just be careful with these types of comments. Many things at camp are attributed to certain gods… Anyway, you get the idea."
"Y-yeah… Scary…"
Releasing a deep breath, Annabeth walked over to Zeus' Fist. Lacy watched as she reached for its coarse surface. An inexplicit flinch traveled through her body as her palm pressed into it. Annabeth stayed still; her head hung low. When the crickets in the woods reached a static drone, the girl turned.
"This is the other base used in Capture the Flag. And—" Annabeth opened her mouth. For a moment, sounds refused to spill. When it did, it was only a murmur. Yet Lacy heard it all the same.
"It's where my friend, Thalia Grace, died."
A sky full of stars blanketed them. They sat on the cooled sand surrounded by the shadows of dunes. The firewood crackled, releasing a spray of orange ember that fluttered upwards like fireflies.
It was June, the season of the lightning bugs. It was the season for rain. It was the season for fire.
Their outlines were cast upon the circle of sand, a halo of pale orange from the flames shared between them.
The girl sat there, recounting tales of her valiant deeds, of her brave adventures, of the sights she'd seen on her grand journey. Her skin was like porcelain. Her obsidian hair was like the ruffled feathers of crows. Her electric eyes anointed a defiant blue behind the coppery flare of timbers.
During the short in-betweens of her storytelling, she would quickly chow down some food. Her fork would scrap against the cheap metal cup, tinkering into a symphony against the spluttering flames and desert winds.
She would sigh as she lowered the empty container, praising the flavor of the meal despite the bland ingredients used. And then the story would continue, of her and her friends, of how they traveled across the country. It was of the brave tales of young children battling their fates.
The ambiance of nature sang in those empty hills of sand as her voice fell upon the waiting ears of her audience.
The smoke rose.
Up and up. Into the night.
The folding waves lapped rhythmically against the shores. His eyes opened to ivory coasts seared golden brown by the setting sun.
Sally knelt next to him, folding her sundress as she sat.
He glanced at the older woman. The rings of her chocolate brown hair fluttered in the salty breeze, her eyes were a startling blue, and her lips held an ever-gentle smile. It would have been perfect if not for the band-aid on her cheek.
"Why do you stay with him?" The boy finally asked.
A flicker of surprise crossed her eyes, and she smiled. "It's not convincing at all, you know? You're way too sharp. Too sharp for your age."
"Is it for her?"
Down the foaming shores, two figures chased each other around. Their squeals and giggles were carried to them by the wind, young, innocent, and carefree. In a dress and running ahead was a girl with a curly red mane whipping across her face in fiery strands. Behind her and stomping into the sand was another girl in a t-shirt and shorts, her sea green eyes sparkling with glee as she sprinted after her friend, short onyx hair bouncing with each step.
"Yes," Sally whispered, gazing at the scene in the distance. "Always."
He turned, glancing at her wounded face. "This will not last. She will grow up one day. And that day is soon. Your plan… it will fail eventually. Whoever you're keeping around won't be enough. Not enough to shield her from what's coming."
"I know."
"Why couldn't you send her away? The camp is well-equipped to prepare her. Better than anyone else. Better than you."
"I know."
"…So, what's the point? All this struggle, for what? This won't seize her a better future…" And he looked into her eyes—sad, longing eyes that reflected the jovial silhouette of her daughter and nothing else. A mirthless chuckle escaped him. The boy returned to watching the ocean.
Of course, he should've known. Nobody was flawless, regardless of what others perceived them to be. Sally was the closest thing to perfection. But, in the end, she was human. Despite her bravery, her resilience, and her wits, she could not rid herself of desires. He understood what she wished for—to spend time with her precious child, watch her grow, and bloom into the adult that would one day stand before her, face to face, eye to eye. Her daughter should be alive and well. Not dead. Not killed in combat, delivered to her in a necklace wrapped in white cloth. Yet she was selfish. She feared letting go of her child. And it almost frightened her as much as she dreaded the child's safety.
The chimes of their laughter carried into his ears, whispering of innocent dreams. Purple waves faded into red as they lapped the shore, reflecting the colors of the sky.
"I have a solution." He spoke again as the crimson sun dipped into the sea. "Give me a month. I'll have something for you, something that could mask her powers."
He felt her gaze rest on him, silent and incredulous, before it settled into resolution. "I—" She breathed, and the tremors were gone. "What's the price?"
"There isn't one," the boy stared into the ocean, the wind licking his hair.
Sally watched him quietly, waiting.
"I knew of a fool," he began, tasting the words in his mouth.
It makes me mad when people who try so hard become victims.
Ignorant phrases sown into something cohesive. Did he even comprehend them, the meaning behind that sentence, the drive behind that remark? He did. He understood from the beginning. Such was the boy who had uttered that thought, manifested that notion into words, sculpted it into his life, witnessed it by his blood, and attested to by his demise.
"That idiot would surely help someone in your position. Without ask. Without cost. Without anything in return. Quite like you, I'd say. Foolish. Headstrong."
The last vestige of orange ebbed away, heralding the arrival of stars. The boy was focused on something far away as the world changed around them.
"I guess, I am just trying to remember…" He closed his amber eyes. "Remember what I have lost."