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V • shape without form

"So," the woman said, "we meet again, daughter of Athena."

The girl frowned, but remained silent. The woman laughed softly, and the breeze seemed to echo her laughter. "You do not remember me, correct?"

The girl nodded slowly, rapidly realizing that she should be afraid of this woman. Her feet felt cemented in the sand as the woman slowly approached her until she was close enough that the girl could smell jasmine rain radiating from the regal woman's form.

"That complicates things somewhat," the woman sighed, "but I have grown accustomed to my heroes possessing no memories, although that has been done on my own account in the past. No matter."

The woman seemed to look her over smugly, and she nodded to herself as if something about the girl satisfied her. "There is a new prophecy, Annabeth Chase, and I fear that you will once again play a part in it. We do not have enough time for me to tell you everything you should know, but know this: the gods are dying. We are the old gods, and we should have faded eons ago. But we did not, and have since repopulated the Earth with children that are young and powerful, capable of so much more than we are. You must reunite my Seven, and thus create the Fourteen."

"I don't even know who you are, or I am!" the girl protested. The waves seemed to crash louder, and the woman glanced at them nervously. But her sharp eyes quickly darted back to bore holes into the girl.

"I have already told you who you are, Annabeth Chase. We have a history, you and I. But because you seem set on repressing your memories, I shall tell you my name: Hera. I can restore all your memories; I have done it before. But I will only do this if you do what I say. Do you understand?"

The girl wanted to throw sand at Hera, or maybe drag her into the sea and drown her, but she gritted her teeth and nodded.

"Good. You must make your way to Olympus, as quickly as you can. The Fourteen shall be reunited there, and only then can you finish the war. Only then will you be strong enough to defeat Her. We shall assist you when you are ready; we have already begun the process of selecting heirs. But you, Annabeth Chase, need to willing to lead. Are you?"

Words escaped the girl as her brain tried to process everything that was said. "I don't understand-" she began to say.

Hera quickly cut her off, and her dress moved like oil as she stalked even closer. "If we all understood exactly what was told to us, we would never achieve anything on our own. You are the last hope of Olympus, and this title means something to all the hopeless demigods and gods alike. You were presumed dead two years ago, but you survived. That means something. I will return all your memories when the time is right, if you are not able to do it yourself, but you must be the one to restart this war."

A loud crack of thunder echoed, and Hera, though regal, looked startled. "I believe that is my cue that we have run out of time. But I will find you again, once the time is right. Goodbye for now, Annabeth Chase."

"Wait," the girl said quickly, ignoring the raised eyebrow Hera gave her. "How am I supposed to reunite people if I don't know who they are?"

Hera smiled. "I would ask if you are familiar with the mark of Athena, but that would be cruel. Look for the mark of Hera; those are the people you should trust."

The girl opened her mouth to say something, maybe beg for clear answers, but before she could say anything, a large wave rose so tall that it blacked out the Sun. For a moment, the girl stared at it in fear and awe. Then, faster than she could blink, the wave crashed over her, drowning her in its midnight depths.

• • •

The girl awoke with a gasp, expecting to feel saltwater fill her lungs, expecting to drown. She could feel herself thrashing, trying to swim. Her legs were tangled in something, and she tried to kick it away.