IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT IN AUTHORS NOTE!

Chapter 14: The Island Beyond Time

Whispering Storm Arc I

Thalia's first thought was how high she'd been thrown—so high she'd lost sight of the ground, so high she'd barely had the strength to feel afraid. The memory came in fragments: the overwhelming heat, the thunder of her own power, and then the moment when the force had launched her like a ragdoll. She'd floated in the air, weightless and drained, her body too exhausted to fight or feel anything other than numb acceptance as she drifted through the sky.

Thalia's eyes fluttered open, met by a soft glow that seemed to dance around her. She blinked, taking in the cave walls, which shimmered with crystalline clusters in shades of white, purple, and green. A bed of layered fabrics cushioned her, each one softer than anything she'd felt before, making the entire scene seem surreal, as if she'd drifted into some dream.

Her fingers brushed the soft fabric, grounding herself as she sat up, her muscles weak and her head foggy. She squinted around the cave, noticing small details scattered around—a loom resting in one corner, shelves lined with jars of herbs, and a fireplace, where a pot of stew simmered gently over the flames.

Instinctively, her hand moved to her wrist, searching for the cool thread of her bracelet. Relief washed over her when she felt it, still there, as familiar as a heartbeat. Whatever had happened, wherever she was now, she still had that much.

After a deep breath, she rose, testing her strength. Her legs wobbled, and a dull ache pulsed through her muscles, but she pushed forward, taking in her surroundings one last time before heading toward the cave's entrance. Bright light filtered in from outside, drawing her forward.

As she stepped beyond the threshold, Thalia stopped, eyes widening. A meadow stretched out before her, painted in vibrant colors—wildflowers in violet, yellow, and red spread across the landscape like a living tapestry. The air was fresh, tinged with the scent of blossoms and the salt of the ocean nearby. Nearby, fountains bubbled peacefully, their soft sound blending with the gentle hum of nature.

Thalia took a cautious step into the meadow, eyes scanning the scene for anything out of place. She spotted a figure near the shore, a girl with her back turned.

She approached slowly, trying to piece together the puzzle of this place. As Thalia drew closer, the girl's head turned slightly, and then she faced Thalia fully.

"Welcome, brave one," the girl greeted, her voice warm and gentle.

Thalia hesitated, sizing her up. "Where am I?" she asked.

The girl gave a soft smile, "This is Ogygia," she said, her tone almost reverent. "A place beyond the reach of mortals, untouched by the passing of time. Both everywhere and nowhere."

Thalia's brow furrowed as unease crept back in. "If it's so far from everything," she started slowly, "then how did I end up here?"

The girl smiled faintly, her gaze drifting toward the horizon. "You fell from the sky," she said softly. "Carried by the wind, as if the heavens themselves willed it. The air seemed to cradle you, guiding you gently to my shores—like the sky refused to let you fall too hard."

Thalia stiffened, fragments of memory flashing through her mind—her last moments in the forge, the intense heat, the sense of being hurled into the air. "I didn't fall here on purpose," she replied. "I was in a battle… I should be dead, or close to it." Her gaze sharpened. "Why am I alive? And why here?"

The girl's expression softened as she studied Thalia's face. "Heroes come to Ogygia when they are most in need of healing," she explained quietly. "This island draws those who are wounded, those who bear burdens too heavy to carry alone. It offers them peace—a chance to heal, if only for a short while."

Thalia's suspicion flared. "I've heard stories about places like this," she said, skeptical. "Magic islands, enchanted paradises… traps. Heroes end up somewhere too good to be true, only to find themselves prisoners. Is that what this is?"

The girl's face softened, a hint of sadness in her eyes. "I understand your caution," she said quietly. "Many heroes have come here before, wary like you. But I mean you no harm. You are free to leave—when you're ready."

Thalia's posture stayed tense, her gaze flicking to the meadow's edge, testing Calypso's words. "And why should I trust you? What's keeping me here?"

The girl's expression remained gentle. "Nothing keeps you here but your own need to heal," she replied. "Your body is wounded, your spirit weary. Even if you tried to leave now, you would collapse before you reached the edge."

Thalia's jaw tightened, unwilling to admit how right she was. Her entire body felt drained, her muscles weak, but the idea of letting her guard down—even here—made her uneasy.

She crossed her arms, though her stance softened just slightly. "Well, if I'm going to be here a while, I might as well get to know you."

A hint of a smile touched the girl's lips. "I would welcome that." She pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "My name is Calypso."

"Thalia," she said, her tone carrying a mix of curiosity and wariness. She glanced around the quiet meadow, the peacefulness almost surreal. "So," she started, "Is it just you here?"

Calypso's smile softened, and she nodded. "Yes, it's just me. Ogygia is… my world. Few others find their way here."

Thalia frowned, trying to wrap her head around the idea of such intense solitude. "You don't get visitors?"

Calypso shook her head, a wistfulness touching her expression. "Only those who need this place find it. The island is… particular about whom it allows."

"And it decided to allow me," Thalia muttered, glancing around, half-wondering if the trees or flowers were watching.

Calypso's eyes met hers with a gentle, knowing look. "Yes. You were meant to be here, Thalia, even if just for a while."

Thalia took that in, her skepticism softening just a bit. "But you're here all the time? No one else to talk to, to see?"

Calypso's gaze dropped to her hands, where her fingers traced a pattern in the grass. "It has been that way for a long time," she said quietly. "This is where I belong."

Thalia hesitated, her curiosity pushing her to ask, "Why don't you just leave?"

Calypso paused, as if weighing her answer, then offered a faint, almost sad smile. "That story… is complicated," she replied gently, glancing back up at Thalia. "Perhaps I'll tell you another time."

After a moment of quiet between them, Thalia let out a small sigh, casting one last skeptical glance around the meadow. "Well, I guess I've got nothing but time right now."

Calypso's smile softened, almost as if she found comfort in Thalia's presence. "Time has a way of slowing down here," she replied. "But that doesn't mean it has to feel heavy. Rest," Calypso encouraged gently. "You don't have to carry the world here, Thalia. Just for a while."

With a gentle nod, Calypso gestured to a shaded spot nearby where a hammock swayed softly between two trees, its fabric lined with cushions and blankets. Thalia hesitated, but the exhaustion she felt made the invitation too tempting to resist. She walked over, settling herself carefully into the hammock, feeling it cradle her weight.

The moment she leaned back, the gentle sway of the hammock and the soft rustle of leaves above eased her tension. Thalia glanced around, momentarily taken by the calm of the meadow, and allowed herself to relax, letting the comfort of the hammock and the peace of the island wash over her.

Time slipped by on Ogygia, each sunrise and sunset blending together in a rhythm that kept the island from falling into timeless stillness. Thalia knew she should leave, but every attempt to focus on Camp Half-Blood faded in the island's calm. Unlike the disorienting haze of the Labyrinth, everything here was vivid and grounded.

Calypso rarely spoke of herself, only stirring Thalia's curiosity more. They would sit in the meadow sipping nectar while Calypso pointed out plants with names Thalia had never heard. Calypso worked with a quiet grace in her garden, her hands moving deftly among the flowers. Sometimes, birds flitted from the trees to perch on her arm, chirping before they flew off. She'd offer Thalia a brief smile that faded into a quiet, wistful expression, as though carrying a sadness she couldn't quite share.

One evening, as they sat in the meadow beneath a sky streaked with the last hints of sunset, Calypso handed Thalia a cup of nectar and quietly watched the horizon, her gaze faraway. A quietness lingered, heavier than the usual calm, as if something unspoken hung in the air.

Thalia noticed Calypso's distant look and, after a moment, leaned forward. "You seem like you've… seen a lot. But you don't talk about it much."

Calypso's eyes softened as she lowered her gaze. "Perhaps because much of it feels like another life. Memories, like waves, drift and fade on this island."

Thalia frowned, sensing something deeper. "Doesn't that get lonely? Being here, cut off from everything? Why don't you ever leave?"

Calypso's smile faded, replaced by a look of resignation as she stared into her cup. "I cannot leave, Thalia. This island, Ogygia… it is both my home and my prison." She took a slow breath, as if steadying herself. "Long ago, the gods bound me here because of who my father is—Atlas. Because of choices made in wars I had no hand in."

Thalia's frown deepened, an uneasy mix of sympathy and frustration tugging at her. "So you're just… stuck here, forever? All because of something you had no control over?"

Calypso nodded, a trace of regret in her gaze. "The gods trust little, forgive even less. I… I did support my father in the first war." She looked down, her fingers absently tracing the edge of her cup. "It was a choice I cannot take back."

Thalia's brow furrowed, curiosity and skepticism mingling in her gaze. "What made you side with them?" she asked, leaning forward slightly.

Calypso sighed softly. "At first, it was out of loyalty to my father, it was all I'd known." She met Thalia's gaze, her voice gentle. "But beliefs, like loyalties, are never so simple."

Thalia's gaze sharpened, "So you think the Titans were right?" she asked, hesitating before adding, "Were they… justified?"

Calypso's gaze softened, and she looked at Thalia with quiet thoughtfulness. "It's hard to say who was 'right.' The Titans ruled over the world for ages—they saw themselves as guardians, maintaining a steady order. But that order could feel like chains to those who wanted something different." She sighed, almost as if speaking to herself. "The gods believed they brought freedom from that rule, a new world where change could flourish. To them, the Titans were the ones clinging to a rigid way of things."

Thalia's brow furrowed as she took it in. "So… maybe they weren't exactly wrong. They just saw things differently."

Calypso nodded, her expression sad but accepting. "To some, the Titans represented stability, a world structured and set. But to the gods, they represented stagnation, something they felt had to be broken apart." She paused, choosing her words carefully. "Good and evil are rarely as simple as they seem, Thalia. In the end, they were two sides, each convinced they were building the world in the right way."

Thalia crossed her arms, frustration and confusion clouding her expression. "And so they keep you here, just because of who you were born to."

Calypso's gaze dropped, her fingers tracing the edge of the bench thoughtfully. "Yes," she murmured. "To the gods, loyalty isn't just about action—it's about blood, about heritage. My father's choices cast a shadow that the gods have no desire to forgive. They see Ogygia as a way to keep that loyalty contained, a reminder of the boundaries they've set between themselves and the old order."

She paused, looking out toward the horizon, the faintest hint of a wistful smile on her lips. "And so, here I am. It's become a part of me, in a way. My world."

Thalia's gaze swept over the calm ocean, her jaw tightening. "It just doesn't seem fair. The gods… they demand so much, but it's like they don't care what it will cost others."

Calypso nodded. "You're not the first to feel that way. Many who come here have struggled with those doubts. Heroes who've given everything, only to wonder if they are even on the right side, if the gods even care."

"It's just… you're here, stuck on this island for something you did thousands of years ago." Thalia hesitated. "The gods ask for our loyalty, but then they do things like this. How can they expect us to keep faith when they're so willing to cast people aside?"

She looked down, fidgeting with her bracelet. "Sometimes I wonder if fighting for them is just… going through the motions. Like maybe I'm more loyal to the idea of them than to what they really are."

Calypso's gaze held a quiet wisdom as she spoke. "The ones who come here, Thalia—they arrive almost broken, weighed down by everything they've seen, everything they've lost. But it's precisely that inner turmoil, that struggle with doubt, that I've seen shape the truest heroes. There's strength in questioning, in refusing to follow blindly. Those who carry doubt and still rise—that is what leaves a lasting mark, even when the gods fail to see it."

Thalia looked up at Calypso, her expression wavering between understanding and frustration. "So… you think doubt can make us stronger?" she asked.

Calypso nodded, her voice soft but unwavering. "Yes, doubt can be as powerful as loyalty. It forces us to examine our choices, to understand why we fight and who we fight for. The heroes who come here often wonder if they should turn away from the gods entirely. But it's in that questioning, that choice to keep going despite their doubts, that they find their true purpose."

Thalia's gaze returned to the bracelet on her wrist, her fingers running over it thoughtfully. "I just don't know if I can be that… unwavering. Every time I see something like this—something that doesn't add up—I wonder if the gods are even worth it."

Calypso's eyes softened with understanding. "You're not alone in that, Thalia. The gods ask for loyalty, but they often forget what that truly means. Loyalty isn't blind obedience; it's earned, choice by choice. And in the end, you decide what it means to be loyal—whether it's to the gods, to your friends, or to yourself."

"In the Labyrinth, Theseus told me that the fact I haven't given up on the gods yet shows I still have faith in them," Thalia said, her voice thoughtful. "He said that holding onto that hope, that loyalty, might be what finally helps the gods learn to honor those who believe in them. Maybe I can help them change their ways, to see that they don't need to keep you on this island any longer."

Calypso studied Thalia for a moment, her expression turning thoughtful. "That hope you hold onto, despite everything you've faced—that's rare. It's what sets you apart, Thalia. It's why you're the daughter of the prophecy. Even when the gods falter, even when everything falls apart, you still carry this fire inside you—this belief that things can be better." She paused, her voice quiet but certain. "Maybe that's what the gods need most: someone who can see beyond their flaws and still fight for what they could be. That's something only a true hero can do."

Calypso opened her mouth, hesitating as though about to ask something important, but her gaze suddenly sharpened, shifting toward the edge of the meadow. A faint shimmer gathered in the air, silver and ethereal, like moonlight made solid.

A low rumbling sound echoed across the lake, cutting her off. Thalia's eyes widened as she saw a faint silvery glow on the horizon, steadily growing brighter, its reflection shimmering across the water. The light grew until a soft but brilliant column moved across the lake, heading directly toward the beach.

Thalia tensed, instinctively reaching for her weapon, even though she knew it wasn't there. "What is that?" she asked.

Calypso let out a gentle sigh, her face unreadable. "A visitor."

The silvery glow reached the shore, dissipating to reveal a tall, elegant figure draped in shimmering moonlight, her silver eyes sharp and calm. Calypso inclined her head respectfully. "Lady Artemis," she greeted. "This is an unexpected honor."

Artemis nodded, her gaze moving from Calypso to Thalia with a hint of tenderness. "Calypso, thank you," she said, her voice carrying a quiet authority. "But I need a moment alone with Thalia."

Calypso gave Thalia one last, gentle look, then turned and walked quietly down the beach, leaving Thalia alone with the goddess, standing under the starlit sky.

Thalia's brows knit together as she looked at Artemis. "Artemis? Why are you here?" she asked, "I didn't exactly expect… well, anyone."

Artemis's gaze softened just a little, but her voice remained composed. "When I learned where you'd landed, I thought it wise to see for myself. Ogygia is no ordinary place, and you've been through much."

Artemis's words barely registered, and for a moment, all the hardships Thalia had gone through faded as her mind drifted to Percy. She looked up, her voice quieter than she intended but steady. "Do you know if Percy's alright?"

Artemis gave her a measured look, pausing as if to weigh how much to reveal. "Percy survived the eruption. He's as stubborn as ever, though you probably expected that. He's worried about you, you know."

Thalia felt her cheeks warm, a blush creeping up despite herself. She quickly looked away, trying to mask the small smile tugging at her lips. "Yeah, that sounds like him."

Artemis's gaze grew more intent, her words calm yet pointed. "But I came to ask after you, Thalia. That explosion you caused… it was massive. So much so that the mortals say there was never a natural explosion ever like it. "

Thalia shifted, caught off guard by the question. "I'm… I'm fine, I think," she replied, a touch defensive. "It all happened so fast. I didn't realize it would—" She stopped herself, glancing away, the enormity of what she'd done sinking in. "I didn't know it would be that powerful."

Artemis nodded slowly, her gaze steady yet sympathetic. "It's no small thing, Thalia. Power like that doesn't come from nowhere. You are the daughter of Zeus—powerful by nature, with a strength that can change landscapes, even stir ancient forces."

"So… this was more than just an explosion?" She crossed her arms, searching Artemis's face.

Artemis nodded. "Yes, Thalia. The forge you destroyed was hidden within Mount St. Helens. When it erupted, it didn't just cause an explosion—it stirred Typhon himself." She paused, letting the weight of her words settle. "Your actions woke something ancient, something the gods have long feared."

"Wait, what?" Thalia's eyes went wide as she processed Artemis's words. "You're telling me the forge was under Mount St. Helens? And Typhon was… right beneath us the whole time?" She shook her head. "I had no idea, I thought it was just… some hidden workshop."

Artemis nodded. "There wasn't any way for you to have known, Thalia. The secrets of Typhon's imprisonment—they were kept from many. You were trying to prevent something much worse from falling into the Titans' hands." She paused. "You acted on what you knew, and that takes courage.

Thalia took a steadying breath. "Is… is the scythe destroyed then? Did it work?"

Artemis's expression softened, but there was a glint of uncertainty in her eyes. "I don't know, Thalia. The eruption disrupted everything. The forge was decimated, and it's unclear what became of the scythe."

Thalia's gaze hardened, and a hint of desperation slipped through. "So what do I do now? I thought I was making a difference, thought I was stopping them… but it sounds like I've only made things worse. Maybe I should just hide on this island so I don't mess anything else up."

Artemis's expression softened as she observed Thalia. She paused, then asked carefully, "Has Calypso already spoken to you about… remaining here?"

Thalia's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Artemis's gaze drifted to the flowers swaying gently in the breeze. "You could stay here, on Ogygia," she said quietly. "A place untouched by the outside world, where fate and prophecy hold no weight. You could leave behind the battles, the expectations… everything."

Thalia's gaze fell to the grass at her feet. The weight of Artemis's words settled over her. For a brief moment, she allowed herself to imagine it—no prophecy, no looming threats, no weight of expectations. Just the quiet, the calm of this place, untouched by everything waiting for her beyond.

She looked back up, her expression torn. "What… what happens if I stay?"

Artemis gave a slight shake of her head. "I don't know, Thalia," she admitted. "Prophecies can be unpredictable, especially when left unanswered. You might be forgotten by fate here, or perhaps… it would find another path. But it's impossible to know for certain."

Thalia's mind flickered to Percy, and the thought sparked something fierce and stubborn within her. She remembered their kiss—unexpected, caught in a stolen moment, one of those rare moments that managed to slice through all the chaos. Just thinking of it sent a thrill through her.

Staying here, cut off from all of it, from him—it felt like trading purpose for comfort. Sure, she'd be safe from the prophecy and whatever doom it held, but Percy would be out there, still fighting, still shouldering all that weight. And she couldn't just let that happen.

Thalia exhaled. The decision hit her like a steady heartbeat. "I can't stay. There's too much waiting for me out there. And besides…" She glanced away, almost embarrassed to admit it, but the thought of Percy felt like a lifeline. "Running from it just isn't my style."

Artemis's smiled with a glint of admiration in her gaze. "You're brave, Thalia. Not many would make that choice." Her eyes drifted downward, noticing the bracelet on Thalia's wrist, its woven threads catching the faint light.

Artemis's brows knitted slightly. "That bracelet… it's unusual. Where did you get it?"

Thalia glanced down at the bracelet. Her fingers brushed over its threads. "The Fates gave it to me. Right before… well, before everything went sideways and Percy and I ended up in the Labyrinth." She gave a small smile. "You're not the first to notice it, either. Theseus had a strange reaction when he saw it, like he sensed something about it that even I don't understand."

Artemis's expression turned serious, her gaze fixed on Thalia's bracelet. With a slow, deliberate movement, she pushed up her sleeve, revealing a bracelet of her own. It was silver, worn smooth over time.

"This," Artemis said quietly, "was given to me by the Fates centuries ago." Her voice softened, but there was a weight to her words, something almost reverent. "They said it was a reminder… of what endures even when time changes everything else."

Thalia's fingers tightened around her bracelet, her gaze meeting Artemis's. A sense of unease prickled down her spine as she took in the similar threads. For a moment, neither of them spoke, both caught in the weight of a silent realization.

"So… it wasn't just a random gift," Thalia murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "There's something more… something we're both meant to be part of." She hesitated, and added, "Maybe they planned this, connecting us somehow."

Artemis nodded, her expression unreadable yet intense, as if weighing every possibility. "The Fates don't make mistakes, Thalia. If they've bound us to the same thread, then whatever lies ahead… it's meant for both of us."

Artemis straightened, her gaze shifting briefly to the horizon as if something urgent was calling her away. She managed a composed smile, though a flicker of unease passed through her eyes. "I should go," she said briskly. "There are matters I must tend to."

Thalia frowned, sensing the tension beneath Artemis's calm facade. "Wait—Artemis, is everything…?"

Artemis offered a quick nod, cutting her off gently. "Take care, Thalia. Trust in the Fates' purpose," she replied. Then, with a last lingering glance, Artemis turned and started walking away, each step purposeful yet hastened, as though eager to escape the weight of their shared revelation.

As Artemis walked away, Thalia's voice broke through, calling out, "Why didn't you pick me to be your lieutenant?"

Artemis paused and turned facing Thalia, her gaze softening yet remaining intense. She looked deeply into Thalia's eyes, as if trying to convey a truth too complex for words alone. "There are many reasons, Thalia," she said slowly, her voice carrying a knowing weight, "but above all, the pull of fate was the strongest." She hesitated, as if carefully choosing her words. "Sometimes, the Fates direct us in ways we can't fully grasp—paths we're bound to, whether we understand them or not. In the end, you were always meant for something else, something only you could fulfill."

Artemis gave a faint, wistful smile. "But maybe… in another life, you would have been my lieutenant," she murmured, a trace of warmth breaking through her composed expression. "There are times I think it would have suited us both. In that life, perhaps things would be simpler. Less bound by destiny."

"Goodbye, Thalia. And remember—don't lose hope in the gods, nor in yourself. There is a reason for everything, even for why I chose another as my lieutenant. Some paths, however difficult, were always meant to be yours." She gave Thalia one last, knowing look, her voice soft. "The Fates may weave in ways we don't understand, but they rarely do so without purpose."

With a last, wistful glance, Artemis turned, vanishing in a shimmer of silver light, leaving Thalia alone with a bittersweet ache—a sense of what might have been, a connection to a life they might have shared in another world.

Ok everyone, confession time: I've been holding out on you all. I got a little ahead of myself. And when I mean a little I actually mean a lot and I finished writing the entire fic... It's 36 chapters with an epilogue and 125,000 words in total. I'm so happy with how it ends!

Now, I know some of you might be thinking:
"If you're that far ahead, why are we only getting Chapter 14 now? What gives?"

Good question! The truth is, I didn't want to rush the uploads just for the sake of it. Even though the draft is complete, I wanted to take my time reviewing each chapter—checking for grammar, tightening up scenes, and making sure the story flows the way I intended. And that is a massive process that sometimes takes longer than actually writing. Long story short, I wanted you to get the best version, not just the first draft version.

But since the whole draft is done, I'll be uploading chapters a lot more frequently now. No more long waits.

Here's where I want your input:
Would you prefer daily updates? Every other day? A couple of chapters a week? Let me know what works best for you! I'd love to keep the pace exciting but still give everyone time to read, review, and discuss.

As always, thanks for reading!

Review Responses:
SD2901: I appreciate your review! I thought having Theseus there to help was a great touch to show how the gods treat others.

Guest: Wow thank you so much! I'm glad you enjoyed it!

KaidoFett: I think the wind catching her was a believable ish way for her to get to Ogygia cause Zeus is the god of the sky.

ImHellaUgly: I definitely see what you're saying and honestly I think Percy also could have easily chosen to stay as well. What drives him to go is also his loyalty to camp and those he cares about there. So it's like a competing test of who he is loyal to and I think either one would work. Thanks for reading!

magocrat777: Thank you so much, that means a lot!

Guest: Thank you guest!