Memories

The Hearth

A magnificent flash lit up the room, encasing it in a golden glow so incandescent, I had to lift my hand to shield my eyes and look away. I had been drenched in a light this powerful many a time before, so I knew exactly who was entering the scene; a god. Inside, I was hoping that it had been my father who answered my call, but I knew it was doubtful.

The light dimming, I blinked away a few spots that danced across my irises. When my vision finally settled, I saw that a young girl, dressed in a simple brown dress, stood before my mother and my younger self.

The girl was barefoot and held a dirty-looking cloth around her head, only a few strands of her mousy brown hair peeking out. Without seeing her face, I knew that the goddess before us had eyes like the glowing coals of the fire at camp: fires of love and warmth and home.

"Hestia?" Annabeth turned to me, the question burning in her eyes the sharp edge to Hestia's softness.

It was impossible that Hestia would be here. The only god that even knew I existed at this point was my father. "I don't remember any of this."

Nico watched me wearily, considering my words. He looked like he wanted to ask me something but thought better of it and turned to watch the scene unfold.

My mother looked up at the goddess, awe mixing with the devastation on her kind face. It was bizarre watching the two figures interact- the two most loving and gentle figures I had ever met. My mom dipped her head into a gentle bow, still clasping her unconscious son in her lap. "Lady Hestia," she said, her voice dripping with reverence. "I'm sorry to disturb you-"

"You never need apologise for loving your child." Hestia knelt beside my younger self's body and looked at my mom. "Poseidon wished he could come himself, but he couldn't risk his brothers asking questions."

My mom nodded, but noted, "He is still his son." Tears ran down her face and her grip on Percy tightened. She brushed a few strands of his hair away from his face.

"You know that is not our way." Despite her authority, Hestia spoke gently and smiled sadly at my mother. It was clear that each figure held great respect for the other, even if Hestia was in her youngest form. Hestia pressed her palm against Percy's check, a look of pure adoration and love flowing through her sparking eyes. "However, I believe that this child will be the one to change all of that."

My mom flicked her gaze sharply towards Hestia, her eyes brightened with a spark of hope. "You mean he won't die?"

"Percy Jackson has many more of us to save first."

Mom let out a sigh, the relief lifting off her shoulders. Hestia held out her hand, a small glass vial tucked between her fingers.

"A gift from Apollo," Hestia explained. "Once we are done talking, this will erase any memories you or Percy have of today."

Annabeth beside me nudged me slightly. "Apollo knew about you too?"

"I guess so." The betrayal leapt within me like a fiery dragon. "That explains why I don't remember this."

Nico added his voice to the room, "Why would they do this?"

My chest tightened and I gritted my teeth. If I had these memories, then I could have gone to camp so much sooner, I could have been trained better. I could have gotten my mother to leave Gabe so much sooner. But no, the gods didn't care- they never did. They threw me back into the fighting pit with Gabe. I didn't answer Nico, but as he fell quiet, I presumed he could tell that I was not happy about the situation.