Maelstrom

Thirteen

[ad astra per aspera]

It wasn't until nightfall when Tessa deemed it a good time to ditch the battle strategies and calculations and blueprints. With her eyes heavy and her brain feeling as if Zeus had used it for target practice, she slouched out of the Library of Athena and into the balmy night air of Camp Half-Blood. The breeze blowing in from the Sound thrummed through Tessa, waking her up a bit, but she still couldn't tear her mind from a nap—whether it be in Cabin Three, or the nearest horizontal surface.

It had been a long time since she'd weighed in on battle strategies for a full-blown war. Thankfully, the battle against Aether and the General had only been individual battles but preparing for a war against an enemy of this caliber left a feeling in the pit of Tessa's soul that she didn't like.

It was only a matter of time before Menoetious struck, awakening Typhon, and implementing the rest of Project Maelstrom; before more of her friends and fellow campers were injured, missing, or worse; before the world as she knew it hung on her shoulders as she toppled before an abyss. War was what she was created for, but she was going up against a weapon she had never faced. Would she succeed?

The sound of swordplay shook Tessa out of her sullen reverie, and she turned her head towards the arena. It was past curfew for the campers, and even without the impending war, no one would dare risk sneaking out to be caught by the harpies, so who was this?

Carefully, Tessa removed Tempest from where it was pinned in her hair, transforming it into its sword form. She crept into the arena, and down towards the figure slashing at a dummy, concealed in shadows. It wasn't until the figure missed, their sword fell out of their hands, and she uttered a very foul word, that Tessa realized who it was.

"Madi?"

Madi glanced over her shoulder, recognition illuminating her face. "Oh, hey." She picked up her sword and continued slashing at the dummy.

Tessa blinked. "'Hey?'" She tapped the gem on Tempest's hilt and, once in pin form, stuffed Tempest into her pocket. "What're you doing out here so late?"

"I could ask you the same question," Madi said between swipes.

Tessa quirked a brow. "I'm busy strategizing for a war. And you?"

Madi shot Tessa a look, one that she knew indicated that Tessa's reason had won. She sighed, lowering her sword arm. "Just thinking, I guess."

"About the wedding?" Tessa asked, leaning against the semi-demolished dummy.

"Yeah," Madi sheathed her sword, and Tessa noticed how as she continued to busy her hands—tightening her ponytail, placing her hands on her hips, cracking her knuckles—that she was lying.

"Madi," Tessa said softly, but not without an underlying severity. "Don't lie."

Madi met Tessa's eyes fiercely, and Tessa awaited the rebuff, but it never came. Instead, Madi's hazel eyes softened in defeat, and she hung her head. "I've been having nightmares."

A pang of numbness resonated through Tessa. Nightmares were common for demigods, especially in times of duress, but they were hardly ever just nightmares; they were omens of the future, glimpses into the enemy's mind, and other concoctions of paranoia and fear that were the downfall of every army.

"What were you dreaming of?" Tessa asked. Figments from her dreams of dying in Crystal Caverns came to the forefront of her memory, but she forced them away.