𝐖𝐀𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐒 | percy jackson

what is the sacrifice to be great

Upon seeing the disastrous look on Ciarda's face, Percy, Annabeth and Grover sped over with a basket of fries still clutched in their hands. Whatever had transpired between father and daughter, it had transformed Ciarda into a figure they scarcely recognized—one more terrifying than they ever could have fathomed.

Her expression wasn't one of surprise or sadness; instead a mask of untouchable fury, seething just under the surface. Her eyes were wild, glinting with a dangerous desire for violence. She was feral. 

Annabeth, her heart desperately pounding, squeezed Ciarda's hand. With a desperate plea, she hoped to prevent Ciarda's inevitable outburst. It was a monumental ask for anybody, nevertheless, a thirteen-year-old girl with severe anger issues.

Annabeth's warm palm reached and enveloped Ciarda's, shifting her out of her frozen state. The rabid look in her eyes was dissociative. She was far off somewhere, a storm of rage. What the hell had Ares done to her? 

In all the years that Annabeth had spent attempting to chisel at Ciarda's many internal barriers, the Daughter of Athena had never witnessed such a drastic change. The girl, although stone cold in her external appearance, was weak.

Annabeth could feel the trembling of Ciarda's fingers, a tremor that belied the raging within her. She silently cursed Ares eternally, for whatever torment he had inflicted on her friend. The girl before her, though formidable, was teetering on the edge, and Annabeth feared what might happen if she fell.

Silence cowered under the table. "You're a liar," Ciarda breathed softly, her voice trembling with controlled wrath. Ares shrugged. "Don't shoot the messenger, Chiron should've told you a long time ago." 

In an instant, Ciarda shot to her feet, her hands hitting the table with a resounding bang. The wood splintered beneath her palms, cracks radiating outward like a spiderweb.

Before anyone could blink, Ciarda was on top of the table, lunging after Ares. She screamed, making anyone near scamper back in terror. Her fists met his leather collar, the God of War merely smiling. Although Annabeth could've sworn she saw a small slither of anxiety running across his crows' feet. 

Ciarda drew back for her first punch but Percy and Grover used all their strength to yank her back by her muscular shoulders. She struggled against their strength, her rage untameable. "Nothing to worry about. Are you going to eat those?" Ares pointed to the neighbour's nachos nonchalantly. They stared in wide-eyed concern.

"He's not worth it," Percy whispered urgently in her ear, trying anything to calm her. He was horrified - never had he seen the composed collected and ever-knowing Ciarda so ferocious. Pulling her by the collar of her jacket, Percy dragged Ciarda to the water dispenser whilst Annabeth began talking to Ares. 

She slipped into the chair, her eyes narrowing as she faced Ares. "What did you do?" She demanded, her voice cold and steady, ready to unravel whatever deceit the god had spun. His eyes sparkled. "I told her the truth." 

Meanwhile, Percy continued to steer Ciarda away, her breaths coming in ragged gasps, her eyes still blazing with fury. "Hey, what was all that?" Percy squinted in terrified confusion. He bent his knees, trying to look at her face for any signal of anything. 

Instead of answering, she chugged three cups of water. "Okay, slow down, Buster," Percy took the glass from her hand before she retched. He watched her glittering eyes whilst she paced in circles. "It can't be."

Whatever it was, the rest of Ciarda's friends would find out later. All Annabeth wanted was to get what information she could from Ares, and then get him the hell away from her companions.