Devil's Backbone ✶ Luke Castellan

𝟬𝟬𝟱 just pawns in a god's game

     "Time is short," Chiron shared, nodding his head. The half man, half horse then looked up, his eyes scanning over the available candidates he had selected to go on the quest. Now it was up to Percy to make his decision. "I have selected the most compelling candidates, from which you will choose three to join you on this quest and ensure that we succeed—"

     "Annabeth," Percy interjected, cutting off Chiron as he selected his first quest-mate to join him.

     Everyone, including Feyre, was stunned to hear the name of the wise daughter of Athena fall from Percy's lips. It wasn't like they were close, but Annabeth Chase possessed a range of skills and knowledge that could be useful for a quest as big as this one. Then that feeling of worry began to set in again. Feyre and Annabeth was close. Not as close as what Luke and Annabeth were, but they were friends and have been for years now. Feyre didn't want to see the girl get hurt. It was the last thing she wanted.

Chiron discussed his decision with Percy for a short moment, the pair talking amongst themselves for a moment before Chiron nodded his head and glanced over at Annabeth. "The first quest-mate shall be Annabeth Chase! Now, on to the other candidates," He announced proudly.

"I want Grover, too," Percy informed.

Chiron was hesitant about the idea. It was rather apparent from the way he stared down at Percy for a moment. But nonetheless, it was Percy's choice and he had to respect that. "Very well. On to the last and final candidate," Chiron responded.

There was this strange foreboding silence that quickly flooded the air while the others waited for Percy to make his final decision. Feyre found herself feeling more uneasy than ever, worry bubbling in the pit of her stomach. And when she looked up from her feet to see Percy staring back at her, an indecisive look burning bright in his ocean blue eyes, that was when the worry turned into paralysing fear. Feyre knew this was the moment she had been dreading. The moment when she would finally be chosen to leave camp for the first time in four years and venture off on a dangerous and terrifying journey.

However, suddenly, Percy did something that shocked the girl to her core. His attention snapped over to the young girl standing beside her, nodding his head. "Delia," He announced, sounding confident with his answer.

Everyone was left astonished by Percy's choice. Even Delia herself was standing with her mouth agape, surprised to find she was chosen for the quest. Feyre knew she should've been relieved, knowing she would be safe and sound in camp. But now the fear she once felt for herself shifted to Delia, worried that her sister, the same sister who didn't have a mean bone in her body, who didn't have the blood of a true warrior pumping through her veins, would leave camp and put her life at risk for the sake of the gods and glory that would never be hers to keep.

It was in that moment Feyre Blanchard had wished it was her Percy had chosen. It should've been her. Why didn't Percy choose her?

     After the quest-mates were selected, everyone disbanded and continued on with their day. Feyre wanted to find Delia and talk to her, but the young girl was nowhere in sight. She had already vacated the premise the second she was given permission to do so. Feyre was worried for her. Delia wasn't like most of the kids in camp. She was too kind, too gentle, and she was never a naturally skilled fighter like her siblings. The only reason she was selected as a potential candidate by Chiron himself was because she was the best healer in camp and that was useful in more ways than one. However, no one believed she would actually get picked.