BLURRED | Annabeth Chase

XIV • Γιατί

Γιατί

why

• • •

The hour was cloaked in darkness, the golden rays of the Sun hidden beyond the horizon, and Hazel knew that once Olympus was casted in light, she would have to leave. It had been five days since Nico had promised Cameron Skyes rescue, and it was Hazel's turn to leave Olympus.

Hazel couldn't blame Frank for being nervous; she was beyond anxious herself, but she didn't let it show. How could she? With everyone else willingly leaving the safety of Olympus on futile missions without a second thought, Hazel knew she didn't have the right to do anything less than them. Safety was a privilege, one that demanded sacrifice. But as Frank pulled her closer to his body, Hazel selfishly wished that she wouldn't have to pay the price. At least, not now.

"I'm going to be alright," she murmured to the thick darkness, knowing all too well that Frank was still awake. Neither of them had been able to fall asleep.

"I know," he said.

They both knew it was a lie. Nothing was certain anymore.

"I'll be back before you can even miss me," Hazel continued, pretending not to feel the way Frank's hand gripped onto her own like she was the only real thing in the world.

"I already miss you," he murmured softly in her ear. "You're right here, beside me, and I miss you."

Her heart constricted inside her chest. But this was their life. The uncertainty, the sacrifice, the risk; that was the price they paid for a chance at tomorrow. Because if they didn't pay the price, then there would be no one else who would.

"I can't stop thinking about those prophecies," Frank whispered. "About what they could mean for us. All of us."

Hazel's stomach twisted violently. She couldn't stop thinking about the prophecies either. "Death's daughter shall survive the night" Rachel had said. As the only known daughter of Pluto, that line made Hazel press closer to Frank. She was the daughter of death, which could only mean that prophecy was about her.

"I've been thinking about them," continued Frank, "and I might have figured out who some of them are about."

"Really?" asked Hazel with weary curiosity.

"Some of them are obvious, like the wisdom's daughter one. Annabeth already had a prophecy that sounded similar to that, so it only makes sense that this ones her's, too. And the child of lightning one is like Jason's prophecy. But a lot of them mention the same things. I asked Rachel to make me copies of them."

"What did you find?"

A brief pause of silence. Part of Hazel wanted to forget about the prophecies and just lay silently beside Frank, anxiously awaiting the dawn.

"Lost. That's a repeated word. And I think it's a person, by the way the prophecies are structured. And I think it's Annabeth."

Annabeth. Hazel still wasn't used to thinking about her being alive. Inside her heart, she had hoped it to be true, but war kills hope faster than people. But Annabeth was alive, and Hazel was going to find her.

"It makes sense," Hazel said slowly. "She's been missing for years. You could call her lost."

"Another prophecy talks about the 'searchers of the lost'," Frank continued, "but that could be about anyone. We've all been searching for Annabeth. But all the prophecies. . .a lot of them predict deaths."

A chill settled over Hazel. "Prophecies are never clear, Frank. They have double meanings and tricky wording. We can't really understand them until they play out."