Cross-posted on FanFiction, AO3, and Spacebattles
"Oh!" Apollo exclaimed, resting his hand on his forehead like a fainting maiden. He peeked from under his arm at the unimpressed woman.
"What do you want?" Aphrodite clicked her tongue, her ire sweeping over the clamor of nightly traffic from stories below. She sat at the opposite end of the bistro table, her red and golden wings folded behind her, and tresses of the same shades dancing in the wind as she took a sip of her coffee.
Apollo studied his friend until a twitch came alive on her delicate brows. Then, with all the confidence of a performer, he smirked.
"Apollo," Aphrodite warned.
"Oh!" He exclaimed for the second time. How impatient she was! "Red wings and hair of gold so bright. Skulls adorn her, fierce in might. Grace and power intertwined. Guardian of realms divine!"
His artistry was met by the speechless amazement of his audience. Many moons had his poetry stunned the little heads of his listeners awestruck. And it was no different for his fellow gods. That, he was sure of as he waited patiently for his friend to recover, his blonde locks swaying in the midnight breeze.
"…That was horrid," Aphrodite grumbled. "Somebody needs to put a stop to your atrocities. You need to pass those authorities to another candidate."
"My, my. Do not be jealous dear Aphrodite. Such hurtful words. What's gotten you in such a pickle? Somebody stepped on your tail?" Apollo whistled. "Poor guy. Or girl. Poor whoever. What would wicked Aphrodite do to them for their slight?"
The goddess ignored him as she brought a bite of cake to her lips.
"So?"
"So what?"
"Who's the brave soul that offended you?" Apollo shrugged. "Also, nice look. By far heads and shoulders above any other form you've taken."
"…It was a brat."
"I'm sorry, what?" He tilted his head. "The wind's a bit loud up here."
Aphrodite sent him a glare. "Some kid threw tiny, exploding magic swords at me."
Apollo raised his eyebrows well above the sunglasses he adorned, despite it being well into the evening.
The goddess released an annoyed huff. "He's got amber eyes. Physically, he's around 6. Although it's most probably a ruse."
"You got beat by a kid," he emphasized, watching the spark of annoyance flash across Aphrodite's face. "An itty-bitty kindergartener," he added helpfully while tracing a tiny human with his index fingers like tracing a heart.
"…Whatever," she rolled her eyes. "Just keep an eye out for the boy. Let me know when you've got any leads."
"Sure thing, sure thing," Apollo grinned, drumming his fingers on the table. "A young magician. A genius of magic in the making… Now, why does that sound awfully familiar?"
Aphrodite scoffed. "While your assumption seems preposterous, you might be correct for once."
"Well, well. My foresight has always been quite keen. Who knows? Perhaps I'll hit the bullseye on this one. As I always do, eh?" Apollo flashed his teeth. "Now, what about this boy? Tell me more. How could I be of aid without something to work with, hmm?"
Aphrodite sipped her drink. A cosmetic mirror materialized in the air between them with the images of Camp Half-Blood displayed within. "…I was watching over one of my kids. A youngling, struggling to reach camp."
"That so?" Apollo watched as a blonde kindergartener, rocking an oversized leather armor and dangling knots of straps, cheered frantically on the sidelines as demigods and hunters fought in the creek. "This little one's yours?"
"Yes, Lacy, the child I was guiding—" Aphrodite eyed the scene and hissed. "What is this girl wearing!"
The ring of metal against porcelain cut through the veranda as the goddess set her fork against the plate. She quickly dabbed a napkin across her mouth before snapping her fingers.
Apollo raised a brow, peering into the framed glass as the blonde child released a confused yelp. Her armor shrunk to fit her form; the dangling balls of leather strings fell to her feet like ripe fruits from trees. Apollo chuckled as Lacy squeaked and patted herself down, the startle in her eyes shifting into amazement at her newfound attire.
"Regardless," Aphrodite huffed at her daughter's bumbling figure, dismissing the mirror with a wave. "It came without warning when all connections to her were lost. The location of her disappearance had another trail that took over. And her presence reappeared again on the outskirts of camp."
"The kindergartener who beat you," Apollo hummed.
"Indeed—what, no! I was caught off guard, that's it," Aphrodite almost growled as Apollo nodded knowingly.
"Sure," he drawled. "Let me guess, he certainly did not overwhelm you with pure speed and left you eating dust?"
The goddess of love flushed a gentle pink before leaning forward, her elbows pressed against the tabletop. "Were. You. Watching. Apollo."
"Hmm? Of course not, dear Dite. I am no titan of foresight, but I am the god of prophecy and archery. Guess I hit the bullseye again, eh?"
Aphrodite continued to glare at him.
"Now, now," Apollo raised his palms, trying to placate his angry friend while the tug on his lips never left his cheeks. It wasn't every day he got to see Aphrodite lose her temper over something unrelated to love. "Let's not get distracted. Please, resume where I had interrupted you with a correct guess."
"…Yes, you were right," Shooting him another warning, Aphrodite took a deep breath and a large sip of her drink before continuing. "He was incredibly fast. Between camp and where Lacy disappeared, there was too much ground to be covered in such a short timeframe. My child is incapable of such a feat. Neither are mature demigods. It is most comparable to the speed of a Pegasus. But that is beside the point."
Aphrodite set her cup down. The thrum of the night flared in the distant streets as Apollo waited patiently for her to continue.
"I couldn't sense him."
"Oh?" Apollo tilted his head.
"He is unreadable. No humanity. No divinity. No history… There was nothing."
"You couldn't tell what he was?"
"No," Aphrodite frowned. "He was shrouded in more mist than even Hecate. I'm uncertain whether the effects were active… or passive."
"Active? That's a bit scary. But, passive, huh? That," Apollo smiled at the concern that was almost palpable in the air. "That would be quite a frightening thought."
"Indeed. It would be as if…" The goddess locked her dichromatic eyes against her empty cup, the evening breeze easing into a strange stillness.
"Ah, as if," Apollo tapped the table, a smirk growing on his face, "as if the world itself was trying to mask his existence, isn't it?"
Sally awoke to the billowing curtains and the cadence of tides. It was the middle of the night. Her daughter was snuggled into her chest, and a blackened patch bloomed on her shirt from where the girl drooled. Sliding out of the sheets and tucking away a mumbling Percy, she slipped out of the bedroom. The hallway was basked in the glow of moonlight and the grainy, wooden floor coarsened by a thin spread of sand.
Waking up at these hours had become a routine. It had been driven by nostalgia for the man she had fallen in love with—so briefly yet brilliantly. In recent years, it had become a necessity born from the need to wash herself after her husband fell asleep. Now, she was elsewhere. The scents of the ocean enveloped her. The winds whisked away the filth that clung to her. And she felt clean.
Nights like these were the only moments she woke for a different reason. Not to rid herself of stains. Not to reminisce about the better times. It was too late for that. She was too worn for that. Instead, she would gaze into the watery horizon. Sometimes, the moon would paint the creasing waves with strokes of white, and it would seem like a thousand pieces of the celestial had fallen into the rippling ocean. Sometimes, there were clouds, and if not for the glowing flecks of houses on distant shorelines, it would have been impossible to tell where the sea ended and the sky began.
Sally stepped into the living space and paused. On the porch, unseparated by walls or glass, sat the silhouette of a boy. The airy whisper of salt and pine funneled into the cottage from the open patio. She hesitated for only a second before settling next to him.
"It's not very healthy to be up at this hour," Emiya said after a while.
"It's a habit of mine." Sally shrugged.
"A poor habit, then. One you need to lose."
"Aren't you also awake?"
"We're not the same. My time here is not determined nor necessitated by sleep. Your health, however, is a consequence of rest."
She stared. "So, you're not human? You won't at least try to hide that from me?"
Emiya shrugged.
"Is it really… Is it true that you'll be able to hide Percy's presence? You don't have to sugarcoat it. I can take the truth." She studied him in earnest. "Even if there is a cost. I'll pay for it. I'll offer everything I have. Anything."
Her bravado was met by a scoff. "I have no interest in swindling helpless young mothers," he glanced at her dismissively. "You'd have better luck trying that with the gods."
"You phrase it like… like you're not a god. Are you… not?"
"Do gods hang around mortals all the time?" He raised a finger towards the rippling tides under the moon. "Just look at the one that sired your daughter. Did he bother to stay for more than a few months? I would be one peculiar god to prefer being dragged around by some snot-nosed brats."
"Are you suggesting that you're just a kid?"
"What do you think?" The boy deadpanned.
Sally smiled. "Well—"
He shot her a stern glare, daring her to continue.
"—Yeah, you definitely are." Gesturing at her chest and drawing an invisible line, Sally shook her head helplessly. "You're even shorter than Percy and Rachel. At least they reach my shoulders when sitting."
And then the woman burst into a fit of giggles, unable to suppress her amusement at the boy's disappointed look. It was such a bizarre sight—the blend between his mature demeanor and childlike appearance—and she couldn't help but let loose in his strange presence.
"You know," Sally breathed, wiping her eyes, "I'll owe you for life if you can make true that promise."
"That's unnecessary."
"That," she studied him with upturned lips, "is for me to decide."
The boy shot her an annoyed glare. "Well, if you insist, then I shall claim my compensation now."
"And that is?" Sally felt her heart thumping harder. She realized that despite her bravado, a deep-rooted fear still gripped her chest in the face of the powerful and the unknown.
"Consider confirming some of my curiosities. They are well within your abilities to answer."
"Okay," Sally held her breath, "I'm ready whenever."
The boy raised his hand, the digit guiding her sight toward the pale disc that hung above the sunless seas. "Tell me, what do you see?"
"The moon?"
"Focus."
"…A chariot," she whispered. Before her, hanging in the distant night was no longer the celestial she knew in all her years of life. Instead, in its place was the vague silhouette of a reindeer-hauled carriage. Almost inconspicuously, a figure flashed into the chariot, jolting the reins as the antlered steeds veered towards the earth. Sally snapped her head towards the boy, searching for an explanation.
"Unlike clear-sighted mortals and even gods, I am unaffected by the mist. The truth of the world is hidden. And even with visions like yours, some mists require considerable effort to unveil," Emiya shrugged as if it was the most trivial thing. "But as you can see, there are no suns or moons in this world."
Sally felt her mouth dry, eyes flitting between the boy and the silver carriage in the sky. Now, the chariot raced towards the shores, aiming for a destination she estimated to be behind the curving gulf.
"Do you remember where the girls had built their castle?" Emiya asked, forcing her attention back to him as he pushed off the deck, his foot sinking into the sand.
Numbly, Sally followed him, her heels digging into the loose grains, too distracted to notice the deeper, gentle after-warmth that had yet to dissipate after a day of baking. Trying utmost to ignore the reindeer streaking toward Long Island, she scanned the horizon for the lump of sand Percy and Rachel had plopped down and spent the afternoon sculpting into a fortress. The girls had buried a pretty seashell beneath the large construction to make sure their prize was safe. However, no matter where Sally looked, she couldn't find the sandcastle. Vaguely, she attributed it to the ringing in her mind after Emiya's casual revelation of the world.
A steady slosh disrupted the rhythmic waves. Her clouded focus was yanked back to the boy, yet again. Despite the absent moon, his silhouette remained a perfect outline in the crescent waves he had strode into.
He stopped knee-deep in the waters that rose and fell. "Do you know what affects the cycle of tides?"
"The moon?" Sally answered without thought. Poseidon had told her about it, almost a decade ago in front of the oceans that stretched an infinity. It was the only thing that the seas themselves did not control, according to him.
"Indeed. Tidal cycles are influenced by the gravitational effects of the moon and the sun, at least in whatever manner that matters. So, tell me—" Emiya plunged his arm beneath the waves. When his hand reemerged, rivulets falling away, he held between his fingers the same pearly shell that was buried under the sandcastle.
In the faraway bend of the Long Island sound, the silver chariot vanished behind timbered outlines, landing somewhere in the woods. Sally peered at the starry sky, the cratered celestial nowhere to be found.
"—Why are there high tides in the absence of moons and suns."
Her focus drifted from the distant ocean to the boy in front of her. Despite the void it left, its lustrous glow seemed to color the world just like how its weight seemed to pull on the seas.
July came, and the days became long and languid.
Percy was not one to take naps, and neither was Rachel. Yet, the tomboy often found herself yawning in the airconditioned space of the Dare residence. Empty glass and plates lay on the coffee table, licked spotless as they had savored every crumb and drop of the cold, sweet afternoon desserts. When they tired, they would doze off in cashmere-wrapped bundles, and the massive sofas would find themselves with two misplaced and mysterious lumps. Sometimes, Percy would jolt awake from her snores-turned-snorts. With confusion clouding her eyes, she would try to make sense of the blankets neither she nor Rachel had remembered covering themselves with. She never dwelled on it before curling into herself to nap again.
In their hushed snores, the roiling heat from the busy streets would be a world away.
Every day began and ended the same as it did the previous. Percy always found herself at the Dare penthouse before lunch. They would draw, do homework, and then play board games, hauling along an irritated Emmie. Then came time for afternoon tea and a short nap. When they woke, they would play catch on the riverbank, the waters and sky painted a pastel orange and pink.
On other occasions, they would spend their morning and noon delving deep into the city. In that sweltering breeze, dangling their legs off wooden benches and sucking on popsicles, they would cross out the checklist of quests in their summer manifesto with thick, colorful markers.
Just like that, over a month had swung by since she had made fast friends with the Dares. Despite being glued to the siblings, Percy was happy to declare that her identity as a girl remained a well-kept secret from Rachel. It seems she could be sneaky after all. However, the occasional slip from Emmie when his sister was absent had landed like hammers against her head, reminding her that maybe she wasn't the spy material she believed herself to be, after all. However, those were simply small bumps in Percy's book. What surprised the girl—scaring the living daylights out of her 9-year-old soul—was when Rachel decided to confront her about another secret.
"So~" The redhead scooted up next to her, glancing around the perimeter as if checking for eavesdroppers despite the penthouse being absent of adults, as usual. The only other person around was Emmie. Although, at the moment, he was in the kitchen.
Percy shifted on the carpet, her expression skeptical. She had learned enough of her friend's behavior to understand that she was up to no good. Being sneaky was not Rachel's forte. She was obvious about it. And whenever she was obvious about it, it would, nine times out of ten, land them a scolding from Emmie. And if it was serious—bad serious—then they might even have their snack privileges revoked.
"See, uh, where do I start," whispered Rachel, before quickly scanning the living room again. "You know, um, sometimes we see things? Well, things that look kind of strange? Like things from horror stories or myths, you know?"
"Um… yeah?" Percy put down her pencil with hesitance, leaving her sketch unfinished. The last time she said the same thing to another person they had laughed it off as childish fantasies.
"And well, I know it's been a while and you might not remember anymore, or maybe I just have bad eyes, or maybe I just saw it wrong. Or maybe it's just my imagination," she rattled off while giving her frizzly hair a frustrated ruffle, "but do you remember the day we, like, became friends? The first time you came over?"
"The day the pudding exploded," nodded Percy. She remembered that day well. So many events had gone down—laughter and excitement, confusion and fear.
Rachel chuckled awkwardly. "Yeah. Anyways. So, about seeing strange things… I, er, was outside during recess that day. And, well, I kind of overheard what you said to the teacher."
"Um, yeah?"
"Well, you said something like…" Rachel fidgeted.
Percy tilted her head. "Like?"
"Like something along the lines of seeing this large man with only one eye at the gates," Rachel blurted out.
None of them spoke after that. Only the soft tunes from hidden speakers swam in the air.
Two shades of green goggled at each other until Percy finally blinked, and the sting of staring too long finally registered in her drying eyes. The tomboy fluttered her lids furiously as she forced out an awkward laugh. Her gaze wandered everywhere but back to the searing focus of her friend.
"Ahaha… Haha… You probably misheard, I don't remember saying anything like that, haha…" She explained, a palm holding her nape as her other hand picked up the pencil and began to stroke at her doodle randomly. "Yeah, and you were probably far away, right? The playground is pretty big. So, uh, it's definitely easy to hear something else. Oh, and because you were far away, maybe you saw someone else, too? Maybe it wasn't me who said that you know. Maybe it's just another kid with black hair…"
"That kid also had green eyes and the same shoes as you."
"Uh, well, you know, maybe it was a co… co-in-ci-dence? Co-coincidence," Percy nodded, but her neck felt stiff. It was a big word she had just thrown in, and she hoped it would somehow, magically, work some miracle and confuse her friend as it did her. She paused her scribbling; her fish doodle had become a mess in her panicked attempt at mock composure. "And, plus, those are just childish dreams, right? I'm not childish."
Rachel's gaze burned against her cheek as she returned to running her pencil against the paper absentmindedly.
"A-And, I'm not weird, haha… I don't dream about monsters and," Percy swallowed, deciding to say the final piece. Surely, it would placate Rachel just as it had placated her. Those words had extinguished her hopes time after time. "And I don't lie to adults about it, you know. I don't annoy people or create trouble to… to get attention from others—"
"I saw it too."
Her pencil stopped. Percy looked up at her friend.
"I also saw a huge man with one eye," Rachel declared, her gaze holding Percy's own and betraying no skepticism.
"Oh."
"And that's not the only thing I've seen."
"Oh." Percy felt her heart skip a beat.
"I've seen people with lower halves that belonged to goats, men who were half horses, women who were half birds," Rachel pointed out of the glass walls at the cityscape on the opposite banks, "and a dog-looking seal. Right there. It's always hanging around in East River."
Percy did not follow Rachel's gesture. Instead, she watched the redheaded girl who was so full of conviction.
So, there was someone else like me.
The chilled air of the AC wafted against her skin. Something welled up from within her chest, never-ending and ever-flowing. She allowed that warm, fuzzy bubble to expand and fill every crevice of her body, to make her complete again.
"Oh," the word fell from Percy's mouth again, not quite forming a full breath. And when Rachel held her gaze again, she saw the smile of her own lips in the glimmering reflections of emerald green.
"Personally, it seems a bit early for the two of you to enter a romantic relationship," a voice punched through the silence.
Percy snapped her eyes away from Rachel's as she swiveled around. Emmie stood by the polished stone entrance that fed into the commons with a tray in his hands and a subtle tug to his lips. Rachel sprung like a startled cat. However, her attempt was abruptly stopped by the hard under edge of the coffee table as her pelvis slammed into it. Toppling over in a thud, the redhead hissed and flopped around like a dying fish.
"Now, I have nothing against the two of you becoming a couple," the boy closed his eyes as he walked towards them, curiously navigating the scene better than Percy ever could with both eyes open, "but I would have to ask you both to postpone this matter for a few years."
"Wha—" Rachel hissed. "I-It's not like that!"
"Y-Yeah!" Percy agreed, bobbing her head furiously.
"Mhm," the younger boy hummed. "It's alright, I'm quite open-minded."
Rachel and Percy groaned in unison.
July shifted by in a blur of sunshine and rain. Their days repeated in a comfortable rhythm like thick, feathered duvets. Every blue sky, orange dusk, and starry night marked their floating descent into this blissful routine. By the end of the month, their summer manifesto—a booklet scribbled with drawings and maps that hung out of its frames—was nearly completed. Each box had been checked except for a handful. The pages had begun to crinkle and curl. And they had to staple on a few appendages that had fallen off—the dried glue notwithstanding their frequent riffling and the journeys through the rain.
After their shared confession of fantastical experiences, Rachel suggested that they go "monster watching." Monster-watching was a dangerous endeavor. Percy had agreed with her friend that it was too early to bring Emmie into the fray. He was too young, and he was not gifted to see the supernatural like they were. They had confirmed it.
"Fwoosh~ Fwoosh~" Perched high on the sofa's backrest, Rachel mimicked the sound of wings as she flapped her arms in an elaborate and slow motion. "Like this, like this! See? The bird lady went fwoosh~"
Percy nodded at her friend's brilliant imitation. "And the horse man was like this," Percy trotted around the room on high-stepping knees. "Clip-clop. Clip-clop. Get it?"
The younger boy studied them with a single, unimpressed raise of the eyebrow. "So, mango pudding or fruit jelly?"
"Arghh—Stupid Emmie," Rachel growled but acquiesced eventually. "…I want mango pudding."
"…Fruit jelly, please," Percy grumbled. While she was upset with his attitude, Percy decided to pardon him on the account of great food. It was clear—Emmie had no talent for seeing the fantastical. He wasn't awesome like they were in that sense. Maybe they could get through to him one day, but for now, they would go adventuring on their own.
Apparently, monsters were much scarcer now. It had been a week into August and two weeks since they began searching when they finally spotted a mythical creature. It was one of those manhorses that they'd both seen before. They recorded the spot and returned to camp there the next few days to proceed with their research. Upon borrowing some books from the library, they learned that the manhorse was called a centaur.
"Psst. Are you sure this is going to work?" Percy whispered.
"We'll see. He is part horse after all," Rachel responded, crouching beneath Percy with a fishing rod.
The passing pedestrians glanced at the two kids huddled around the corner of an alley, their bangs peeking out from behind the red-bricked walls.
"I don't think he looks happy," Percy pointed out.
"Just wait," Rachel waved confidently. "He's part horse."
Peering down the block, the tomboy spotted a centaur. The creature flicked his tail in seeming irritation and clicked his tongue loud enough that the duo heard it from their hiding. Out of the corner of her vision, Percy saw Rachel slowly reel in the line. The carrot in front of the centaur crawled just an inch further, its squiggly, marker-drawn smiley face leering at the creature.
There was a stomp against the pavement followed by a furious tone, "Who is doing this? Show yourself!"
Percy and Rachel ducked behind the wall.
"See," Percy hissed, jabbing her thumb at the bricks that hid them from their target, "I told you he was angry."
Rachel frowned while holding her chin. A moment later, her friend widened her eyes. "Ah, I get it."
"Get what? That he's more human than horse?"
"What? No," Rachel looked appalled, "he clearly didn't like his carrot on the ground. It's too dirty. Hmm… We should put it in a box first. And then we toss it to him."
"Rachel," Percy groaned, "I don't think that's the problem."
Her friend shook her head. "Here, take this," Rachel pushed the rod into her hands. "You're a lot better at it than me. Now that he's noticed us, only you can retrieve the carrot without him finding out."
The tomboy sighed. Taking a quick peek around the corner, Percy shrunk back into their cover. If looks could kill, the centaur would've vaporized the carrot where it sat.
"I can't," Percy whispered urgently. "No matter how good I am, I-I can't get the carrot while he's, you know… while he's just glaring at it the entire time!"
Rachel stood up and gripped her shoulders, holding her gaze with a confidence that Percy knew was unfounded. "I trust you. You've got this. You managed to catch so many fish. Way more than me."
"That was a game!"
"SEGA Bass Fishing is more than a game," Rachel nodded solemnly. "It is an arcade."
"That's still a game!" Percy cried.
"Perce, do you trust me?"
"Uh…" Percy wasn't so sure. The last time she had done so, they had their afternoon snacks revoked by Emmie. "…Maybe?"
"Do I not have better grades?" Rachel stared at her with a smoldering intensity.
"Erm, you do?" Percy fumbled with her words. "But how does this—"
"Do I not get As in all of our classes?" Rachel tightened the grip on her shoulders.
"Yeah, but how is this—"
"That means I am quite smart, no? Which means I'm more right, no?" Rachel smirked as she puffed out her chest.
Percy stared at her friend's confident pose—ginger hair fluttering, eyes closed, and perky nose pointed at the skies. The tomboy was rendered speechless by the redhead's self-assurance that bordered on delusion.
Rachel cracked open an eyelid, "So? How about it?"
"…Fine," Percy slumped her shoulders, regret bubbling in her stomach before she even acquiesced, "I'll try."
Rachel beamed and slapped her on the back. "Atta boy!"
Taking a deep breath, Percy peered out of the alley. She squeezed the handle in one fist and gripped the reel in another. Then, she pulled. In a sudden clamor of hooves, the carrot flew into the air in a wide arc.
"You've got this!" Rachel whispered behind her.
Gritting her teeth, Percy swung the rod with all her might, around and over her head like she was dragging a massive flag underwater. With an unfounded familiarity that she had no time to contemplate, Percy spun the knob of the wheel, her forearm working like pistons as the lines zipped through the air.
All was going well until the wide trajectory of the carrot crossed into the busy streets. Percy and Rachel watched with wide eyes as the world seemingly slowed. The carrot drew a graceful parabola in the air as it approached the shining windshield of an oncoming car. There was an evident thud, followed by screeching tires, and an uproar of horns.
Percy and Rachel scrambled into the alley, hiding in its shadows as they squatted down.
"Oh my god, oh my god," Percy whimpered. "It hit a car!"
"D-Did…" Rachel swallowed, "Did… Do you think th-they… d-died…?"
"W-What? No way!" Percy scurried back towards the streets. One side of the road was frozen, and a couple of vehicles stopped behind another car that had left a trail of tire marks on the drive. Thankfully, as Percy frantically glanced around, no one seemed to be injured. She spotted no damage other than an angry driver who had slammed his door, cursing as he searched for the culprit who threw a vegetable at him.
Sagging as her breath finally left her, Percy informed her friend as she hurriedly scanned the scene once more. "I think they are okay. I don't think any car crashed."
Percy heard Rachel release her breath as well. "Okay, okay. That's good. Thank God."
"See? I told you it was a bad idea," Percy pouted as she turned around.
"Bad idea? We just need more practice."
"What, no! We should've just left the carrot there instead of swinging it around and causing an accident…" Percy froze as she saw the figure behind her friend.
Rachel cocked her head at her abrupt pause but failed to realize the gravity of the situation. "Okay. Maybe SEGA Bass Fishing wasn't enough. But! We can just practice some real fishing, and then we'll be able to catch that centaur no problemo! We will be superb! Sounds like a good plan?"
"Sounds like a reason to revoke both of your dessert privileges," replied the younger boy from the shadows of her enthused friend, a package wedged under his arm as he made his presence known to his now rigid sister.
A childish scream escaped the alley, drawing the attention of some commuters before they swiftly moved on.
"Wha-What—Where did you—How did you—" Rachel spluttered as she landed on her butt, gawking at her younger brother who towered over her.
"Chop-chop," Emmie clapped his hands. "Enough adventures for today, time to go home."
"Wh-Where did you come from? I thought you were at home!" Rachel accused.
"Picking up an order," the boy shifted the parcel under his limb.
"Okay! That explains why you're here, but it's still early!" Her friend argued from the ground, pulling out her flip phone and pointing the screen at the boy. "See? Not even 3! It's not time to go home yet!"
"True," the boy hummed in a way that made Percy gulp.
"Aha!" Rachel exclaimed.
"However, we had an agreement. What did I say about proper behaviors?"
"That, um, we should maintain it at all times…" Rachel mumbled.
"And?"
"That, uh, we should behave properly," Rachel played with the hem of her shirt. "Especially when we're outside…"
"Right," the boy looked up, his gaze settling upon Percy. "And what were the two of you doing?"
Percy looked away while attempting a whistle. It turned out sad and withering, which forced her to drop the act to avoid further embarrassment. "Erm, research?" She offered hopefully.
"Y-Yeah! We were researching, Emmie!" Rachel agreed eagerly.
"I see. And you accomplish that goal by throwing carrots at cars?" The boy asked, studying them at a slow and meticulous pace that had Percy shifting nervously. "Please. Do explain to me how that constitutes your research."
"Erm, well, see, uh… we were trying to see if we could catch anything… with, um… with a vegetable?" Percy offered weakly.
"Right, yeah… Yeah! Habitat!" Rachel bobbed her head like she happened upon something amazing—something that Percy had yet to realize, and could only nod alone in wishful support. "We were studying the habitat!"
Eyes widening in amazement, Percy couldn't help but silently applaud her friend's genius. Despite Rachel's many moments of mischief, Percy was glad the redhead had the brains to bust them out of their predicament. The tomboy peered at Emmie expectantly, waiting for him to accept the irrefutable logic behind their perfect excuse. Her stomach did a tiny flip when the boy inclined his head eventually—he bought it…!
"I see," he walked past Rachel, pulling the older girl to her feet. "And what exactly have you two discovered?"
"Um," Percy squinted as she racked her brains, determined to help her friend out. They were against a common enemy, after all. "The centa—the pe-people don't like carrots?"
"They don't like dirty carrots that's been on the ground!" Rachel added helpfully.
The duo watched as the younger boy strolled past them, his shoes clipped to a stop at the end of the alley's shadows, where the afternoon lights spilled from the street beyond. He turned around and, suddenly, Percy felt a bit uncertain about their prospects of winning this battle.
"And here I was convinced that you weren't fishing for people," Emmie's amber pools bore into theirs, "but, rather, cars. Hmm?"
Percy squirmed under his calm gaze. Her only comfort in this situation was the knowledge that her friend was just as squeamish as she was. At least they were in this together.
"We'll start with five," said the boy when they didn't reply.
"What!" Rachel exploded from her side. "You can't do that! That's not fair!"
Percy scrambled for words as well. "Y-Yeah! Five is… five is five too many!"
"Six."
Rachel growled. "You'll regret this, Emmie!"
"Yeah. We, ugh, we won't play with you anymore," Percy added, crossing her arms, trying to emulate the authoritative air of adults.
"Seven."
"Okay, okay. Stop," Rachel waved her hands wildly, tossing Percy a glance, who quickly dropped her stance. "We take that back. We'll play with you—"
"Eight." The boy didn't even bother to wait for his sister to finish.
Percy groaned. Somehow, they had made it worse, and she had no clue as to why.
"What, why?" Rachel cried, voicing Percy's thoughts. "You get to play with us. You know what, we'll even bring you on our monster-watching—"
"Ten."
Percy felt her mind numb at the number.
"Stop. Stop. Stop! Why!" Rachel panted. "Y-You can't just skip nine and go straight to ten! We'll listen to you, so…"
Zoning out her friend's pleading, Percy looked down and counted one finger at a time. Three desserts a day… Ten desserts deducted…
One, two, three…
Four, five, six…
Seven, eight, nine…
And ten…
Despite the summer heat, dread gripped her limbs like the icy touch of a ghost. The weight of the situation slammed down on her like a toppled dam. Percy shuddered, goosebumps forming as she peered at the blurry contours of the boy, standing in the shadows of the alley that divided the shimmering streets beyond him.
His eyes cut between her and a desperately arguing Rachel. Percy saw his mouth move and watched her dreams fizzle out before her. His voice was all she heard in the cacophony of the city.
"Twelve."
It was over. Percy died on the spot, her soul escaping her body.
Their snacks... Gone. All of it. Twelve entire servings. Three for each day. Four days' worth of desserts. Evaporated into thin air in a matter of seconds. Torn out of their grasp by Satan himself.
The tomboy shivered in the bleakness of the cold, cold reality. Somewhere far away, Rachel's blabbering sobs were overwhelmed by the white, static buzz of the world.
"Stop…" Rachel whimpered in her sleep. "Please… save yourself…"
Emiya entered her room as the girl suffered one of her nightmares. It had been a reoccurring symptom since he had first met her. Back when she had his crib sidled by her bed or when she had cuddled him when he was old enough to walk, Rachel always had the habit of mumbling her dreams.
"Don't go… they'll lie… they'll betray you…" The sleeping girl flung her head from side to side.
Stopping by her bed, Emiya lifted her dangling ankle and moved the overhanging leg back onto the mattress. Even now, she murmured stories he was most familiar with, narrating the tales of a memory buried by an eternity of life.
"Please… you won't come back…!"
Ignoring her tossing and turning, Emiya tucked the disarrayed blankest around the girl and moved the tresses of hair that had fallen into her mouth. He cupped a hand against her plump cheek, and that was enough to ease her trembling. She had always calmed at his touch. The stressful days fed into more terrors at night. And it was the only reason he still allowed her to cuddle him on certain occasions.
"Don't go…" Rachel rubbed her face against his palm, wriggling her lips as if tasting for something. "Don't go… Master Mochi… Padawan Pudding…"
Emiya almost chuckled at how the girl's dreams had shifted. It seemed like confiscating her sweets had taken a toll on her. He hoped it was enough to caution her against reckless behaviors in the future. After all, it was better to snuff out her danger-seeking tendencies before they developed into a real headache.
"Emmie, please… Don't take away Master Mochi… and… Padawan Pudding…" Rachel mumbled, her words steadily losing their focus.
He stayed with the girl until her light snores became a fast tune. Exiting into the hallway, he made his way back to his room. It was right beside Rachel's, as insisted by the girl when the adults had decided Emiya was old enough, much to his relief.
His door clicked shut—bolted—and the faint trickling of the wall fountain and music from the stairwells dulled. The muted colors of the corridor vanished, and through the wall of glass, the twinkle of the city bled into the cool shadows that plastered the walls to the ceiling.
Emiya approached his desk, picking up the package he had collected earlier in the day. A flash of golden motes—and in his hands lay a simple cutter. He slit the parcel open and dismissed the tool. Reaching inside, he retrieved a folded card. The contents of the note greeted him in bold golden letters.
Special delivery for the special not-human-not-god-super-mysterious-snarky-ass-kid. Got your order. Enchanted as specified. Easy-peasy.
P.S. A certain goddess of love has really been on your case for weeks now.
P.P.S. A goddess of hearth has also been looking for you for years now.
P.P.P.S. Aren't you glad Zeus didn't assign Artemis to New York?
P.P.P.P.S. Can you please tell the three hags to get off my ass?
P.P.P.P.P.S. Btw, what'd you need the locket for?
P.P.P.P.P.P.S. And don't throw away my let—
Crumple.
The crinkled paper sailed into the trash with not an ounce of hesitance.
Tipping over the parcel, an oval locket dropped into his palm, its thread-like chains pooling against his skin. The shell of the trinket was a deep, metallic blue with layers of sloshing waves etched within the confines of its patterned lining that bordered the rim.
Emiya stilled. For a split second, an odd familiarity churned in the back of his mind. And then it was gone, flickering away like a blip, leaving only invisible ripples across a bygone reality.
Manhattan's skyline gleamed beyond the wall of glass. Boats sailed across East River, cutting through a canvas painted black and bright from the reflection of brightly lit spires. For minutes, Emiya stood like a shadow, with not a twitch of his muscles. Yet, he found nothing of that fleeting sensation. It was like a false alarm—a misfiring of his senses, of his brain.
But that couldn't be.
So, he searched for that feeling again, only to return empty-handed. Then he tried again. And again. Each time his efforts proved fruitless. When he finally relented, the winding stream of taillights across East River had already trickled to mere flecks of red traveling down empty lanes of FDR Drive.
There was nothing to be found. Examining the trinket for the dozenth time, he came to the same conclusion—it was not harmful.
With an annoyed sigh, Emiya snapped open the locket, and a faint, ethereal glow spilled from its confines. It shone just enough to illuminate the contours of his face and ignite the glint in his pupils. He thumbed over the custom indent of the Celestial Bronze—a jagged carveout with a resemblance that fell between lightning and a dagger.
The shape was almost there. Now, he just had to embed the final piece and apply some finishing touches. Setting it on the desk, Emiya brought his hands forward and cupped the air in front of him. The atmosphere stilled.
He breathed.
A gun was cocked.
The pin struck.
And golden motes burst forth, surging into reality.
Swirling drafts tore at the room, dispersed from the lustrous form materializing in front of his chest. When the cyclone eased, the light faded, and the ever-present mist scattered, only a ceremonial dagger hovered above his palms.
Magical providence.
In the gloomy room, the purple sheen of the phantasm was the only shape that danced in his steel-grey eyes.
Natural master of this world.
He reached forward with his tanned hands, his white hair fluttering.
Return all to its origin.
He cradled the air beneath the blade, the ever-present mist around him gone.
Rule Breaker.
The weapon collapsed into itself. Weeks of experiments distilled into this moment as it shifted into a fraction of its original scale, descending into the pendant's socket like the final piece of the puzzle.
Emiya brushed his finger over the celestial bronze, over the phantasm now embedded in the locket. He removed his digit, his coppery skin fading into a pale tone. The iridescent dagger was nowhere to be found in the splayed trinket. In its place was the mirror-like undersurface of the two halves of the locket—empty photo compartments ready to hold memories immortalized for its owner to come. There were no indentations. There were no protrusions. It was as if the dagger had never been there, slotted in like the perfect key. It was as if the mist had never been dispelled and the rules of this world never broken.
He looked into the pendant. And that foolish boy with red hair and amber eyes stared back.
Hey yall,
Thanks for reading.
I've changed the summary of the story into a more apt description. Not to say the previous one wasn't, but at least his version narrows down the focus of the story a bit more. I might adjust it in the future if need be. I know, I suck at writing summaries. Anyway, have a great day.
Best,
Tangerine, May 26th, 2024