𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞 (Annabeth X Malereader)

[11] Percy gets some new golden eyes.

The night was far from pleasant. We had set up camp in a marshy clearing, about a hundred yards away from the main road. It was evident that local kids had been using this place for their parties, given the litter of flattened soda cans and fast-food wrappers that carpeted the ground. 

We had salvaged some food and blankets from Aunty Em's place, but the dampness from the marsh made us hesitant to light a fire, despite my ability to create one easily. The encounters with the Furies and Medusa had provided more than enough excitement for one day, and we didn't want to attract any more attention. We decided on taking shifts for the night, with me volunteering for the first watch.

Annabeth wasted no time in curling up on the blankets and was soon snoring softly. Grover, using his flying shoes, settled on the lowest bough of a tree, his back against the trunk, gazing up at the night sky. Percy, on the other hand, opted for a makeshift bed of leaves but kept his eyes open.

"Go ahead and get some rest," I reassured Percy. "I'll wake you if there's any trouble." Percy nodded but continued to watch the surroundings. Up in the tree, Grover sighed deeply, a look of profound sadness crossing his features.

"It makes me sad, Y/N," he murmured.

"What does? The fact that you volunteered for this quest?" Percy chimed in.

"No," Grover responded, "this." He pointed at the litter strewn across the ground. "And the sky. You can't even see the stars. They've polluted the sky. This is a terrible time to be a satyr."

"Oh, I see," I replied. "You're like an environmentalist, aren't you?"

He shot me a disapproving glare. "Only a human wouldn't be. Your species is causing so much harm to the world... but, never mind. It's pointless to lecture a human. At this rate, I'll never find Pan."

"Pam? Like the cooking spray?" Percy said.

"Pan!" Grover corrected him indignantly. "P-A-N. The great god Pan! What do you think I want a searcher's license for?"

A peculiar breeze swept through the clearing, momentarily overpowering the stench of garbage and mud. It carried with it the scent of berries, wildflowers, and clean rainwater, the very things that might have once thrived in these woods. In that moment, I found myself nostalgic for something I had never known.

"Tell me about the search," I said.

Grover looked at me cautiously, as if he feared I might be making fun of him. "The God of Wild Places disappeared two thousand years ago," he began. "A sailor off the coast of Ephesos heard a mysterious voice crying out from the shore, 'Tell them that the great god Pan has died!' When humans heard the news, they believed it. They've been pillaging Pan's kingdom ever since. But for the satyrs, Pan was our lord and master. He protected us and the wild places of the earth. We refuse to believe that he died. In every generation, the bravest satyrs pledge their lives to finding Pan. They search the earth, exploring all the wildest places, hoping to find where he is hidden and wake him from his sleep."

"And you want to be a searcher?" I asked.

"It's my life's dream," he replied. "My father was a searcher. And my Uncle Ferdinand..." He gestured toward the stone statue we had encountered earlier. "Uncle Ferdinand knew the risks. So did my dad. But I'll succeed. I'll be the first searcher to return alive."

"Hang on—the first?" Percy interjected.

Grover took his reed pipes out of his pocket. "No searcher has ever come back. Once they set out, they disappear. They're never seen alive again."

"Not once in two thousand years?" I asked, incredulous.

"No," Grover confirmed.

"And your dad? You have no idea what happened to him?"