apollo's blessing

Invisible strings

I refuse to part take in any form of combat, your skills only get used for everyone else's biding that they forget you're human to. Last night in the sparring area was just a one time thing, if anyone saw, a sword would be thrown into my hands and I'd be put on the front line in this feud between the God's and Demi-God's.

The sun is shining through the Hermes cabin and already I can hear chatter from the younger and older kids, what they were gonna do today, who they were gonna hang out with, all that suff. The noise was like playing the tv in the background while your mother yelled at your father because he couldnt keep his hands to himself, or she was yelling at you for failing a paper and suddenly you couldn't rip your eyes off the tv, it was like i was there but at the same time not there?. I slid out of my bunk my feet hitting the ground with a soft thud as I wandered towards the door, the sun was shining but it did nothing to ease the shiver I felt inside me. My eyes wander towards the sparring area memories of last night came flooding in, how my feet moved without my consent, how my hands knew exactly how to swing, how the sword felt in my hands, it came so easily ,almost too easy.

I take a step out of the cabin scanning the area like I was expecting one of Ares kid, maybe someone from athenas maybe even Chiron himself to leap out from behind a tree and say "surprise shawty, I knew you had it in you". That was the problem, people here saw something in me that I never wanted to bee seen. I didn't want to be a hero, heroes die. Heroes are known for the wars they win that statues get built in their honour, heroes are not known for fucking depression or bipolar, I wasn't built for glory. I wasn't made to be a legend. I was just trying to survive, and that's harder than it looks when everyone expects you to be something else. They see me, and they think warrior, soldier, hero.

The sun beats down harder, and the heat does nothing to shake off the weight of the thoughts swirling around in my head. I should go back inside, drown out the noise, keep pretending I'm just one of them. But I can't stop myself from staring at the sparring ring.

The clang of metal on metal rings in my ears, even though I know no one's sparring yet. It's like the sound's been burned into my memory, like it's a part of me now. The memory of that sword in my hands. The way my body moved without thinking, without hesitation, like a puppet on invisible strings. I'd told myself it was a fluke, that I had no control. But the truth was, it felt right. The violence felt... right. And that scared me more than anything else.

A figure steps into my peripheral vision, and I freeze. Of course it's the golden boy himself Percy fucking Jackson. The son of Poseidon himself. He doesn't need to announce his presence his like a shadow, always lurking nearby.

"You can stop pretending," he says sternly, his voice sharp like the edge of a blade.

I roll my eyes scoffing " don't worry, you seem to have that covered along with delusion"
He makes a mocking face at me " cute" he says with a cold tone his eyes narrow, and for a second, he almost looks like she's sizing me up. "You think you're the only one who wants to stay out of all this? You think it's any easier for me, or for anyone else?"

I glance at him, "I dont remember asking for yours or anyone else's life story"
Percy doesn't flinch at my words. He just stands there, his stance casual but with an intensity in his eyes that could cut through steel. I hate how effortlessly he exudes that calm confidence like he's got everything figured out, like he's seen all the worst and still shows up, ready for whatever comes next.

"You don't have to ask," he says sternly I could tell I he wasn't happy with my time or response "I get it. You think you're the only one who doesn't want to be a hero, but trust me, nobody wants this life. No one gets a choice."
" everyone gets a choice" I say coldly " majority just pick the wrong option" I shrug.
" maybe the choices are not as clear as we want it to be" he says his voice steady "You don't get to choose how the gods shape your fate, and you don't get to choose who you become because of it."
I scoff what he was saying was complete bullshit " you are right, we don't get to choose but yet here we are letting mummy and daddy pick out where we are going to end up in 20 years" I say my voice dripping with sarcasm, " just because we have one thing in common sea boy? Doesn't mean we are the same, you enjoy being the hero, I avoid it."

Percy's gaze hardens, like he's trying to figure out if I'm serious, or if I'm just some angry kid throwing words around. But there's a flicker of something a sharpness in his eyes, a hint of annoyance.

"I get it," he says, his voice low. "You think it's easier to hide. Easier to be the outsider, to avoid the fight. But eventually, everyone gets pulled in. You can either face it, or you'll be stuck running in circles, running from the only thing you can't outrun. Take it from me sweetheart, you usually don't realise you are running in circles till you get shot or killed."
Yeah, no, I maybe depressed but I wasn't that depressed to wanna go round in circles begging Zeus to throw a lightning bolt at me, I roll my eyes at him clapping my hands slowly to mock him " wow great speech, maybe I will join your little godly parent fan club"
He looks me dead in the eye sighing Percy's eyes flicker with something like frustration, and for a moment, I swear he's about to say something that would make me regret opening my mouth. But instead, he just smirks. "

That's the thing. "You think you can just avoid it. But when the gods are involved, they don't exactly give you a choice about whether or not you want to play their game. You're already in it, sweetheart. You just don't know how deep the water is yet."

I clench my fists, trying to hold back the snarky remark I feel coming on. But it's too much. "I don't need a lecture, Percy. I get it. I'm in this mess. But I'm not gonna let you or anyone else guilt-trip me into wanting to play your little war games."

His expression hardens, his usual calm slipping just a bit. "That's exactly the problem. You think it's all some game. That's what makes it so dangerous. The moment you stop running, the moment you stop pretending it's not happening, that's when you start making real choices."

I take a step toward him, voice low but biting. "I'm not pretending it's not happening. I just really don't care, I'm not going to be a puppet with invisible strings in this damn war that I didn't start."

Percy doesn't flinch, but there's a flicker of something in his eyes maybe frustration, maybe something darker. He takes a step closer, his voice cold but still laced with that underlying calm. "You're already a part of it, whether you like it or not. You don't get to choose when to get involved. You're in it the moment they decide you're useful."

I grit my teeth, my fists tightening at my sides. "You think I care about that? You think I'm going to just roll over because the gods decided I'm useful? I'm not like you, Percy. I don't give a damn about the battles they're fighting. I'm just trying to survive, not play their stupid game."

His gaze sharpens, and for a moment, there's a brief silence. "Then you'll die trying to outrun it," he says, his voice almost too calm, like he's not even trying to provoke me anymore, just stating a fact. "You'll keep running until it catches up, and when it does, it'll be too late for you to do anything about it."

I take a step back, shaking my head. The nerve of him. "Don't try to tell me how this is gonna end, Percy. I don't need your advice or your pity. I'm not you. I'm not some hero who's supposed to sacrifice everything just because fate says so."

He sighs, like he's disappointed, but doesn't back down. "You're right. You're not me. And maybe that's the problem. You've spent so much time convincing yourself you don't need this, that you don't need anything... that when the time comes, you won't be ready. But when the gods decide, you won't have a choice. And you'll wish you did."

I narrow my eyes, trying to swallow the sudden weight in my chest. You'll wish you did. The words hang in the air, gnawing at me, but I refuse to let him see it. I refuse to let him win.

"You're not a mind reader, Percy," I shoot back, the words colder now. "So don't pretend to know what I'm thinking. You're just another goddamn soldier, thinking you can save everyone and make it look easy. But we're not all built for that."

His jaw tightens, but he says nothing, just watches me with those goddamn knowing eyes, like he can see through everything I'm trying to hide. And for a moment, I can't help but wonder if he's right if I am just running. But I push the thought down, hard, refusing to let it slip through the cracks.

Instead, I turn away, the tension thick between us, but I won't give him the satisfaction of a response. He doesn't get to win this. Not today.