MAELSTROM [femPercy x DC]

Chapter 37 - Locked Box Now Open

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The world was dark. Talia was standing on what seemed to be a sort of altar, with none other than her darling father in front of her, holding a small box.

The box. 

The box that Talia feared more than anything. The Box in which she hid away her fears, memories, and hopes. A box that always led to disappointment, somehow or the other. 

She hadn't seen it in years, burying it so deep into her conscious. Talia was not ready to face what was coming. 

It was probably the fact the box was a part of her mentality, and not an actual object, that made her realise exactly what was going on. The scarecrow's fear toxin had been sprayed across the room. The entire team must be facing what they consider their deepest darkest fears. And Talia's was the one holding the box.

She knew it was fake. She was an assassin. She could overcome this. She hadn't faced such feelings in years, not since she finally found a way to escape the terrors that plagued her dreams. Right now, Talia was vulnerable. She hated being vulnerable. She hated it almost as much as she hated the man in front of her.

"Father." She spoke, clearly, voice echoing across the abyss of emptiness. The darkness seemed to reflect her voice, pushing everything back to her. It was suffocating.

"Talia. Look into your box.", the man said, smirking, "Assassins must not hide their fear. They must face it. Assassins have no fears."

"Yes, father." Talia spoke, clenching her fists. She hated it. She hated the inferiority she felt. 

Talia was a woman, she was seventy years old, despite looking only thirty five. The Lazarus pit did do miracles. Talia was mature, and she knew how to take care of herself. But in front of the man she called a father, the man whose approval she longed for, she was weak. The man who gave her the greatest treasure in her life- her strength, but constantly knocked her down for never being enough. She couldn't help it. She couldn't. And she hated that.

The box was small. Ornate. Decorated with carved swirls, and a single green emerald. People always told Talia that her eyes were gorgeous. The thing one would remember the most about her. The most stunning Emerald eyes, reflecting off the deepest color of Lazarus. The one thing she got from her father. Talia opened the box. There was nothing in it, just a small, round mirror.

 Her reflection stared back at her, green eyes piercing through the darkness behind her. She was alone, in a chasm of nothingness, she was the only piece of matter, the only person around. The only person left. Perhaps that was what she was afraid of. A lack of companionship. She didn't learn the truth about her mother until she was seventeen, and always assumed her mother had left due to her father's activities as The DEMON, and then found out she was the child of a goddess. The goddess of war and strength, no less. She worked for the legion, served her ten years, only to be taken away from a family she created with others like her. No, she was made for the league. She was to birth the heir, after all. 

Then her younger sister was born. Sure, Salana had only been around twenty years, but Talia had come to care for her. Salana ran away the second she understood exactly what the family business was. The disgust in her eyes as she looked at Talia was evident. It pained her heart. But Talia still did it. If she didn't, who would?

Now she had a child, who, just like her, was to be made a part of the league. And then, when introduced to the man he'd been missing all his life, he chose to stay with his father. Talia understood why, of course. Who would want an emotionless mother? One that would do nothing but make you fight, even if it nearly killed you. After all, she had gone through the same sort of thing herself. Perhaps she was more like her father than she thought. She hated him.