blurred | revised

IX • between the conception and the creation

"I'll come, too," said Drew, grabbing a knife from the chest by the window.

"So will I," Chris said immediately, his hand reaching out for Cameron's arm. But Cameron stepped away, shaking his head.

"No," Cameron said firmly, "I'll go alone."

And with that, he left silently, never looking back. Chris stared after him, a foreign expression on his face. For a second, it seemed familiar to Annabeth, but before she could identify it, Drew tugged at her sleeve.

"Come on," Drew instructed to both her and Esperanza. They abandoned their food and followed her down the hall and to a door. Drew opened it, revealing a long staircase that upwards. Grabbing Esperanza's hand, she began to ascend.

• • •

The hour was cloaked in darkness, the golden rays of the Sun hidden beyond the horizon, and Hazel knew that once Olympus was casted in light, she would have to leave. Annabeth and Percy were somewhere out there, and it didn't matter that there had been dozens of failed quests to find them; it was Hazel's turn to leave Olympus and she refused to return without either demigod.

Hazel couldn't blame Frank for being nervous; she was beyond anxious herself, but she didn't let it show. How could she? With everyone else willingly leaving the safety of Olympus on futile missions without a second thought, Hazel knew she didn't have the right to do anything less than them. Safety was a privilege, one that demanded sacrifice. But as Frank pulled her closer to his body, Hazel selfishly wished that she wouldn't have to pay the price. At least, not now.

"I'm going to be alright," she murmured to the thick darkness, knowing all too well that Frank was still awake. Neither of them had been able to fall asleep.

"I know," he said." They both knew it was a lie; nothing was certain anymore.

"I'll be back before you can even miss me," Hazel continued, pretending not to feel the way Frank's hand gripped onto her own like she was the only real thing in the world.

"I already miss you," he murmured softly in her ear. "You're right here, beside me, and I miss you."

Hazel's heart constricted inside her chest. She yearned to stay here, in the safety of their tent, laying with Frank. But this was their life. The uncertainty, the sacrifice, the risk; that was the price they paid for a chance at tomorrow. Because if they didn't pay the price, then there would be no one else who would.

"I can't stop thinking about the prophecy," Frank whispered, "about what they could mean for us. All of us."

Hazel's stomach twisted violently. She couldn't stop thinking about the prophecies either. Fourteen to nine, Rachel had said. Were five demigods really to die? Five demigods that Hazel knew and loved? The thought was too horrible to bear.

"I've been thinking about it. Well, one word in particular. Lost. I think that's about Annabeth, so she must still be alive."

Annabeth. Hazel still wasn't used to thinking about her being alive. Inside her heart, she had hoped it to be true, but war kills hope faster than people. But Annabeth was alive, and Hazel was going to find her.

"It makes sense," Hazel said slowly, "she's been missing for years; you could call her lost."

"I'm worried about the part of the prophecy about death," Frank said, his voice small.

A chill settled over Hazel. "Prophecies are never clear, Frank. They have double meanings and tricky wording. We can't really understand them until they play out."