7: Mourning Someone Alive

3.7K 92 58
                                    

*

Word Count: 1,137 words

POV: Annabeth

Chapter 7: Mourning Someone Alive

After Piper and Hazel had comforted Annabeth, the remaining demigods headed to the mess hall for dinner, though most of them did not have an appetite. The Argo II was stocked with an assortment of Camp Half-Blood food and the cheapest snacks they could find. Annabeth nearly cried when she was handed a packet of M&Ms for dessert, and they all turned out to be blue. None of the other demigods understood until Annabeth, through stuttered words, explained. Then they were all sobbing together.

Suddenly, Annabeth had an idea.

With sudden conviction, Annabeth got up and headed to the top deck of the Argo II. Her fellow demigods followed in confusion. On the deck, Annabeth approached the campfire area they had built out of a metal barrel and some random lawn chairs.

Carefully, almost reverently, Annabeth grabbed some wood, threw it in the barrel, and lit it with a match from a pack on the chairs.

Then, Annabeth tossed her packet of M&Ms into the fire. She lowered her head in solemn respect and quietly muttered her prayers, hoping to every god and goddess she knew that they would be answered. Tears tracked down her cheeks in silence.

"Please let Percy be safe," she murmured. "Poseidon, please, protect your son."

Behind her, Annabeth's friends walked away.

But then they reappeared, all with their own offering of food. Her friends finally seemed to understand what she was doing.

Frank and Piper each gave a slice of their pizza. Leo gave up his hotdog. Hazel put forth a bushel of grapes. Jason and Nico tossed pieces of their roast beef into the fire. The smell of chocolate still wafted through the air from Annabeth's offering.

"Percy, please make it to the Doors of Death."

"Poseidon, please watch over your son."

"Please, I just want him to be alive."

Long after the offerings were burned and had dissipated into nothing, the demigods continued to stand in front of the fire. Frank and Hazel comforted each other. Piper held onto Jason and buried her face in his chest. Leo stood with his forearms leaned on the barrel, hands in the fire, staring with empty eyes into the night. Nico approached Leo from behind and gently placed his hand on his back.

And Annabeth stood alone, the furthest from the fire. She missed Percy so much. All her friends - Luke, Thalia, and Bianca - died for her eventually. Guilt settled low in her gut.

She deserved this, didn't she?

*

Annabeth knew that they had to contact Camp Half-Blood and update Chiron on the status of their quest - and the status of Percy. She fingered the ballpoint pen tucked in her jean pockets. They needed to hope for the best but expect the worst. And the worst was needing to prepare an empty shroud.

The Argo II was currently docked off the coast of Kallithea, having needed a relatively safe place to stop. Too far inland and they were in Gaea's territory, too far out to sea and they were in Poseidon's domain. It wasn't that Poseidon would harm them for sailing his seas, but they were passing on the news that Percy had fallen into Tartarus, and they didn't want to be anywhere near the waves when Poseidon heard about the loss of his son.

The only way they could communicate was by Iris Messaging, which the Romans had never heard of before. Instead, they typically used messenger hawks.

The demigods didn't exactly have a messenger hawk at the moment.

To create the mist, Frank turned into a dolphin and dove into the shallow waters, then popped his head up and spurted water out of his blowhole. Jason quickly harnessed a small breeze and blew the water into the air, creating a mist.

Annabeth was the one to make the Iris Message.

Her hands shook as she tossed the golden drachma into the mist.

"Oh Iris, goddess of the Rainbow, please accept my offering. Show me Chiron at Camp Half-Blood."

The golden drachma disappeared in a shower of water droplets. The mist became opaquer and then turned a myriad of colours, like a rainbow. It shimmered for several seconds, and Annabeth's breath hitched as she prayed that the message didn't fail. Sometimes the goddess denied certain messages based on who sent them, or who they were sent to. In a time of war, Annabeth wondered if Iris was still in commission, or if she even had a Roman counterpart.

Thankfully, the mist finally turned into a coherent picture of Chiron, who was sitting in his magical wheelchair, his horse half hidden.

Chiron looked surprised.

"Annabeth?" He asked. "Is that you?"

"Chiron!" Annabeth said, relieved. The centaur had been like a father-figure to her ever since she arrived at Camp Half-Blood when she was seven years old. If anyone could provide comfort and leadership for their lost group, it would be Chiron. "We have ... we have bad news."

"You're on a quest right now, why are you calling Camp Half-Blood?"

"Percy's gone." Annabeth got straight to the point. Just saying the words made her want to cry. "He tried to save me, and he fell into ... he fell into ..." Annabeth choked on a sob.

"Percy fell into Tartarus," Nico said.

Annabeth brought out Percy's ballpoint pen, Riptide, and held it out for Chiron to see. Chiron's face turned a sickly colour. Before he could speak, Dionysus appeared from the side, his eyes red. He was carrying a metal flask, which probably held grape juice. Dionysus looked wrecked, and Annabeth wasn't surprised, considering what was going on with the gods lately. He must have been listening the whole time because the god of wine's voice cracked as he spoke. "Tell me what happened to Percy."

*

POV: Chiron

When the Iris Message was finally ended, Chiron stared solemnly into the distant sunset as Dionysus continued to drink his grape juice as if it could make him drunk again.

"Those damned kids," Dionysus mumbled, words slurred. "Those damned kids, always getting in trouble ..." His voice was thick. "Always getting killed. I don't understand why. Why did the Fates have to write it to be this way? Why do our kids always have painful endings? It's not fair."

Chiron rubbed Dionysus' back in comfort.

"I know you care about Percy -"

"I don't care about Percy - Peter Johnson!" Dionysus yelled. "Gods don't have feelings. Gods don't care about their kids! Gods shouldn't care about their kids ..." His voice went quiet. "That's the way things need to be, to keep everyone safe."

Chiron stayed silent for a moment.

"Then I suppose it wouldn't hurt to pray just once to the sea for safety."

*

POV: Third Person

Down in Tartarus, an altar glowed.

*

Percy In TartarusWaar verhalen tot leven komen. Ontdek het nu