❝ Do not let them define you as just a witch with a cursed bloodline. ❞
☆ ☼ ☆
Reality was easy for Sheila to manipulate when it came to people who didn't know about the existence of her world. Chiron had told her once she could make them see what she wanted them to see. After years of mastering the art of manipulation with Luke, she could change anyone's perspective at will in seconds. One spell, and she could make anyone believe the visions she forced upon them.
It was revealed useful once the battle between Percy and Ares was over. Sheila only had to snap her fingers to convince the L.A. news that the explosion at the Santa Monica beach had been caused by a crazy kidnapper firing a shotgun at a police car. The news did the rest themselves, saying he accidentally hit a main gas that ruptured during the earthquake. They added that the kidnapper (Ares) was the man who had abducted Percy, her and two other adolescents in New York, forcing them across the country.
In the public's eyes, Percy Jackson became a victim. It turned out that he wasn't an international criminal after all. He had caused a commotion on that Greyhound bus in New Jersey, trying to get away from his captor. Sheila added to the lie, manipulating people into believing Ares had caused the explosion in the St. Louis Arch. The waitress who had taken a picture of them confirmed this with a picture of the quartet with Ares.
The rest of the story was just to lift Percy's ego. Sheila was sure of it. Reporters called him brave and said he had stolen a gun from his captor in Los Angeles. He battled him shotgun-to-rifle on the beach — and they weren't technically wrong. No one could justify the strange ring of fire, but everyone pretended it was linked to the earthquake. Sheila could hear Chiron's sermon already. They blamed the explosion of five police cars on this and the ruptured gas main. The captor used the distraction to flee. No fatalities had occurred.
Annabeth gave Sheila a look as she noticed the proudness written on the witch's features. Sheila winked at her discreetly, listening to the reporters retelling the stories she implanted in their minds. All she and the others needed to do was nod and act tearful and exhausted (which was the easiest part). They perfectly played victimized kids for the cameras.
"All I want," Percy spoke, choking back his tears, "is to see my loving stepfather again. Every time I saw him on TV, calling me a delinquent punk, I knew... somehow... we would be okay. And I know he'll want to reward every person in this beautiful city of Los Angeles with a free major appliance from his store. Here's the phone number."
Upon hearing Percy's words, Sheila wondered if her family could see her on screen. She knew they probably didn't since watching the news wasn't one of their habits. Still, a glimmer of hope burned her insides, praying they would, just this once. Even if she remained mad at them, she wanted the interview to incite them to bring her home.
Percy's sob story made the police and reporters pass around a hat and raise money for four tickets on the next plane to New York. They seemed so moved, which Sheila thought was dramatic, but she wouldn't complain.
The arrival at the airport brought tension to the quartet. They were taking a risk by getting on a plane. Percy's hands were already clenched despite them not even being aboard yet. Sheila tried to speak up and reassure him, except everything she thought to say would demoralize him more. Her last solution was to force him onto the plane and grab his arm until they were sat.
When the plane took off, Sheila understood Percy's behaviour. It was such a nightmare that she didn't let go of him. Every spot of turbulence felt as if they would crash. It scared her as much as the monsters did throughout the quest. Only when they touched safely at La Guardia did Sheila and Percy let go of each other. A look was shared between Grover and Annabeth, though the two other demigods didn't catch it.
The local press was waiting for the four teenagers outside security. The quartet managed to evade them thanks to Annabeth, who lured the press away in her invisible Yankees cap, shouting, "They're over by the frozen yoghurt! Come on!" and Sheila magically directing them away. The girls then rejoined Grover and Percy at baggage claim.
When they reached the taxi stand, Percy told his friends it would be better to split up so that Chiron would know what had happened. They protested, but Percy was insistent. Annabeth and Grover agreed after realizing there was no changing his mind, yet Sheila didn't budge. She argued that her being there if he angered the gods would help. Percy pretended it bothered him, but deep down, he knew he didn't want to go to Olympus without her.
Sheila hopped in a taxi with Percy once she promised Annabeth not to curse at any god. They headed into Manhattan, the sky clear of clouds. The wind looked calm since it didn't barge against the windows.
After thirty long minutes of petty arguments — most caused by Sheila, who accidentally lit the end of Percy's pants on fire with the flames she distracted herself with — the duo exited the taxi. They walked into the lobby of the Empire State Building, both of them assuming they looked like they had just spent the last days without sleeping, a statement which wasn't false.
Percy went up to the guard at the front desk, Sheila trailing behind. He didn't greet the guard, instantly demanding, "Six hundredth floor."
The guard was reading a book with a picture of a wizard on the front. Sheila tried to peek over Percy's shoulder and get a look at the title. She silently chuckled as she recognized the fantasy book her father used to read every night before she went to sleep. It was understandable the guard took so long before looking up at her and Percy. The story was great.
"No such floor, kiddo," he denied.
"Look, we just need an audience with Zeus," Sheila declared. "You surely heard of him, the Greek god who transformed his daughter into a tree and almost killed us while we were on a plane. He's said to have a thundering temper."
The guard gave the two a vacant smile. "Sorry?"
"You heard her," Percy insisted.
The demigods shared a look as the guard remained silent, afraid they had confused him with the rear guard. Sheila stepped back, ready to bolt toward the door, but the guard's voice stopped her just before she did, "No appointment, no audience, kiddos. Lord Zeus doesn't see anyone unannounced."
"Oh, I think he'll make an exception," Percy told him, slipping off his backpack.
He unzipped the top, allowing the guard to look inside it. It took him a few seconds to get what the metal cylinder was, his face paling. He glanced back up at the demigods, asking them if it was what he thought it was.
"Yes, it is," Percy promised. "You want me to take it out and—"
"No! No!"
Sheila smirked as the guard scrambled out of his seat. He fumbled around his desk, searching for a key card and handing it to Percy when he found one. The guard explained to the demigods that the card had to be inserted in the security slot. Logically, no one else could be in the elevator with them. He let them go once he ensured they were alone.
Percy nodded and walked away, nudging Sheila with his foot when he saw how she eyed the guard's book. Rolling her eyes, she followed him into the elevator and watched as the doors closed. The card disappeared after Percy slipped it into the slot, a new button appearing on the console, a red one that said six hundred. It reminded the girl oddly of the buttons people in movies warned others not to touch unless they wanted evil things to occur.
Sharing a hesitant look with Sheila, Percy pressed it, and they waited and waited. In the background, Muzak played. Sheila wanted to burst the speakers into flames. The song got on her nerves.
To ignore the lyrics, she asked Percy, "Do you know what you'll say?"
"No," he responded a bit too fast to her liking. At least he was honest.
"Just remember that they won't be as indulgent as Ares was," Sheila reminded. "If you anger the god of the sky, the consequences will be a lot worse than being doomed by Ares."
"You know how to be reassuring," Percy told her sarcastically.
She shrugged. "So I've been told."
Silence followed until Percy asked, "You think Hephaestus will be there?"
Her posture didn't change, but he saw her eyes harden. "Maybe, but he hasn't talked to me in thirteen years. Doubt he'll start now."
"If he does, what would you say?"
Sheila couldn't lie and say she never imagined that moment. Expressing her anger would be relieving, but she knew it would remain in her imagination. The gods didn't take disrespect well.
Finally, the awaited ding echoed in the elevator, interrupting their conversation. The doors slid open so slowly that Sheila wondered if they were taunting her and Percy. She stepped out alongside Percy, leading the way through Olympus and ignoring the whispers about them as they passed by.
"Come on, Sharkboy," she called as she spotted the stunned look on Percy's face. "The sooner we do this, the sooner we leave."
The two demigods climbed the main road toward the big palace at the mountain's peak. The Underworld and the palace could be seen as reverse copies of each other, except everything had been black and bronze in the Underworld, while here, everything glittered white and silver. Having seen all this already, Sheila almost had to drag Percy away. There was no time to admire the place.
Soon, they reached the throne room. In a way, it looked like Camp Half-Blood. The thrones were arranged in an inverted U, like the cabins. Sheila stared at Hephaestus', the golden design reminding her of the trap he invented for Hera. Hephaestus wasn't present, Zeus and Poseidon being the only gods here.
Percy approached the two thrones at the end. He kneeled by Poseidon's, the action seeming to anger Zeus. The silence was unsettling. Sheila lingered two steps behind Percy, arms crossed behind her. She didn't know what she had expected, but it wasn't this. Arguing would have been better.
"Father," Percy acknowledged.
"Should you not address the master of this house first, boy?" Zeus spoke, his voice itself intimidating.
Much to Sheila's amusement, Percy remained in the same position.
"Peace, brother," Poseidon requested. "The boy defers to his father. It is only right."
Zeus' following question sounded like a menace as he asked, "You still claim him then? You claimed this child whom you sired against our sacred oath."
That was a hypocritical comment, considering his daughter's existence, but Sheila didn't comment.
"I have admitted my wrongdoing," Poseidon claimed. "Now I would hear him speak."
Anger bubbled up in Sheila's chest. Poseidon treated his son like a mistake to fix. Percy deserved more than that. Any demigod deserved more than that.
"I have spared him once already," Zeus grumbled. "Daring to fly through my domain and change my thunder into rainbows... pah! I should have blasted them out of the sky for their insolence."
"And risk destroying your master bolt?" Poseidon asked calmly. "Let us hear them out, brother."
Zeus grumbled some more. "I shall listen," he decided. "Then I shall decide whether or not to cast them down from Olympus."
"Perseus," Poseidon called. Sheila internally winced as she knew by the look on his face that Percy hated his full name. "Look at me."
Percy did. Sheila noticed how conflicted he was with the god. She didn't hold it against him, stepping forward to stand by his side.
"Address Lord Zeus," Poseidon told them, finally acknowledging Sheila. "Tell him your story."
And Percy did, with Sheila adding details he had forgotten. The boy took the metal cylinder from his bag and laid it at Zeus' feet. It sparkled in the Sky God's presence with as much brightness as lighting.
The silence that followed was long, the crackle of the hearth fire breaking it by itself. Sheila stared at the dancing flames, her own burning her hands. She had to keep them from leaving her body and burn the whole place.
Zeus opened his palm when Sheila glanced back at him. The lightning bolt flew into it. As he closed his fist, the metallic points flared with electricity until he held the classic thunderbolt, a twenty-foot javelin of arcing. It hissed energy that made the hair on Sheila's arms stand up.
"I sense the boy tells the truth," Zeus muttered. "But that Ares would do such a thing... it is most unlike him."
"He is proud and impulsive," Poseidon reminded him. "It runs in the family."
Sheila gave Percy a look he could have rolled his eyes at. "Lord?" he asked.
The two gods inquired, "Yes?"
"Ares didn't act alone. Someone else — something else — came up with the idea."
Percy described his dreams, from the one at the beach to the pit. He explained how he felt during them. He mentioned the evil that seemed to stop the world and made Ares back off during their fight.
Once his explanations were finished, Percy sent Sheila a look for her to speak up. Reluctantly, she looked the gods in the eye. "Lords, I have been having those dreams as well," the witch declared, frowning at the look the gods exchanged. "I've had them for a while now. Recently, I shared them with Percy and heard the voice calling for him, us. It wants us to help it win an imminent war."
The gods' expression didn't reassure Sheila. They knew something. She couldn't tell what, but it scared her.
"In the dreams," Percy said, "the voice told us to bring the bolt to the Underworld. Ares hinted that he'd been having dreams, too. I think he was being used to start a war like we were."
"You are accusing Hades, after all?" Zeus inquired.
"No," Sheila corrected. "Lord Zeus, we've been in the presence of Hades. This feeling on the beach was different. When we were close to the pit, it was the same. I'm sure you understand what I'm talking about. It was the entrance to Tartarus. Something is being revived from a long slumber down there. Percy and I can't be sure yet, but we can feel it. It's powerful and older than the gods."
Poseidon and Zeus looked at each other. Sheila tried making out the words they exchanged in Ancient Greek, but only two reached her ears: Father and prophecy. At the thought of who they were talking about, she gulped.
The Sea God suggested something, but Zeus cut him off. Poseidon tried to argue, only for Zeus to hold his hand up angrily. "We will speak of this no more," he denied. "I must go personally to purify this thunderbolt in the waters of Lemnos, to remove the human taint from its metal."
Zeus rose and looked at Percy. His expression seemed to soften just a fraction of a degree. "You have done me a service, heroes. Few could have accomplished as much."
"We had help, sir," Percy said. "Grover Underwood and Annabeth Chase—"
"To show you my thanks, I shall spare your life. I do not trust you, Perseus Jackson. I do not like what your arrival means for the future of Olympus. And I do not like to see a Bennett witch standing with you. But for the sake of peace in the family, I shall let you live."
"Um... thank you, sir."
"Do not presume to fly again. Do not let me find you here when I return. Otherwise, you shall taste this bolt. And it shall be your last sensation. And you," Zeus turned his attention to Sheila, "do not use your magic against me again. I have been indulgent this time, but beware. If I ever sense your tricks on me, they will turn against you."
As thunder shook the palace, a flash of lightning took Zeus away. His words resonated in Sheila's head, the tone in his voice alarming her senses. It sounded like a warning, but not concerning him.
Poseidon was now the only god in the throne room. "Your uncle," he sighed, "has always had a flair for dramatic exits. I think he would've done well as the god of theatre."
Sheila raised a brow, wanting to comment that all the gods she had met were dramatic. An uncomfortable silence invaded the place, the witch shifting as she waited for Percy or Poseidon to speak.
But before either could, another presence made itself known. When the voice spoke, Sheila froze in place. She had never heard it as a child but recognized it almost instantly. She knew Percy's gaze was on her, though her eyes dwelled on the floor. All the gods were gone. Why did he have to stay?
"If I may interrupt, I would have a word with my daughter," Hephaestus requested.
Raising her head, Sheila locked eyes with Percy. While Poseidon agreed, the demigods didn't want to leave the other alone. Neither knew their father well, but they couldn't deny a god's wishes.
Hesitantly, Sheila faced the man who claimed her years ago. As expected, she couldn't see herself in him. The mere thing they might share was the scars on their hands from working in forges. Apart from that, Hephaestus was a stranger, and Sheila couldn't decide whether to be relieved or enraged about that. They couldn't pretend as if time didn't affect them. It had. The little girl who wanted a sign from her father was long gone.
Sheila glanced over her shoulder at Percy. She sighed, then wordlessly followed Hephaestus out of the throne room. He bore a subtle grin as he led her toward a place Camp Half-Blood hadn't seen during their visit to Olympus. The air grew hotter as they advanced, and when they reached an unknown destination, Sheila's eyes widened in pure marvel.
Cabin Nine was nothing compared to the room they entered. Excitement surged through Sheila's body at the many machines, prototypes and plans surrounding her. She could barely contain it. A room like this was every child of Hephaestus' dream. A round table was installed in the centre of it all, papers scattered over its surface. There were shelves filled with weapons that were never finished. Sheila spotted a golden throne against the back wall, recognizing it as the one used to trap Hera. Despite its history, she grew intrigued by its mechanisms.
Inching toward the table, her eyes scanned the plans. Some were old, others new. She glanced at her father, rummaging through them once he nodded. Her face brightened, ideas forming in her brain. If someone would describe her, they would say Sheila looked like a child who received the birthday gift they had been asking for years. It pained her that she couldn't share this joy with her brothers.
After a minute of examining everything, a plan in particular caught her attention. Sheila frowned as she identified the Tunnel of Love trap. The pipes were initially supposed to explode and send the boat down rapid currents, but Hephaestus had settled on the spiders. The girl was glad about this decision.
When he saw what she stared at, the god spoke, "You know, I've never had a child disarming one of my traps, much less one meant for two gods." An emotion Sheila wouldn't dare call regret passed in his eyes. "I did not expect to see you and that boy getting caught in my trap. I should have known Ares would use you to retrieve his shield. Nonetheless, your quick thinking impressed me. You somehow saw beyond the mirrors and found a flaw in a mechanism I ensured was flawless."
"Well, I did what any of us can do," Sheila disregarded. She didn't think her actions deserved such recognition when her brothers could have done it, too. "All of your children can sense traps."
"Yes, but not all have the skills to disarm them," Hephaestus told her. He walked around the table, he and Sheila on opposite sides. "You might believe I do not care for my children due to how little I interact with them, but I do. I am well aware of what your brothers can do. I know Charles is incredibly talented with technology and can bend metal to his will. I have seen Shane show incredible strength for his age, and Jake might be the most prominent mechanic in the past decades. Every child of mine has a unique talent, but you, Sheila, are one of a kind. You have a mind like no others."
From all the things Sheila expected, this wasn't one of them. Hephaestus had always ignored her offerings and prayers, and she assumed he didn't care, but maybe he did... for his sons. She was his only daughter, and his speech made her realize she was the only one who was avoided. Charlie's prayers were usually answered after a few days or weeks. Harley received a hammer made by the god himself. Jake had been claimed one day after he arrived at Camp.
Her prayers were never answered. She never received any gift. Hephaestus claimed her months after her arrival. Sheila might have been Hephaestus' favourite daughter for having a bright mind, but now she understood she would never be treated like a son.
Clearing her throat, the girl tried to ignore the incoming flames in her palms. She wanted to say so much but could say so little to a man with an ego. "Thank you, I guess."
Hephaestus wore an amused expression. "You aren't used to compliments, are you?" he asked, receiving a shy headshake. "Don't worry. I am not, either. I suppose years of being treated differently caused that. It does not mean I lied. Your magic is not all that makes you a special demigod. People can believe what they wish. Do not let them define you as just a witch with a cursed bloodline."
Despite the wildfire spreading in her chest, Sheila couldn't help but appreciate these words. She knew that as soon as she would step into Camp, things would return to how they were. It didn't mean she couldn't let her inner child enjoy the compliment she had begged for.
"Sir, may I ask you something?" Sheila wondered. Hephaestus nodded. "When the Chimera attacked me and my mom, why didn't you help us?"
Hephaestus sighed, the regret from earlier returning to his gaze. "One of the most painful parts of being a god is being forbidden to intervene. I always — and still do — cared deeply for your mother. I would have helped if I had been permitted. Unfortunately, as I said, some things are forbidden for us to do."
Sheila nodded in understanding, though his response added fuel to her fire. "You cared for her?"
"Like you, your mother is one of a kind," Hephaestus confirmed. He glanced at something behind Sheila before looking back at her. "I believe it is time for you to go. Your friend is waiting for you."
"Oh, alright," Sheila replied, slightly disappointed but not surprised. She walked toward the exit, then turned around. "I just have one more question."
She hated how this made her sound like Percy.
"Even if you are forbidden to intervene, can you still tell me why my flames are so destructive?" she inquired. "My mom's weren't like that."
Hephaestus didn't speak for a moment until golden flames appeared in his palm. "I may not have been permitted to interact with you as a child, but it doesn't mean I didn't try to protect you. Those flames were my blessing to you. One day, it will make sense."
It didn't satisfy her, but Sheila understood he wouldn't develop his words. She walked away, watching the flames in her hand. Hephaestus might have called it a blessing, but it was far from being one.
She marched alone through the city of the gods for a while. Muses ceased to play their music, anyone crossing Sheila's path kneeling to her. It helped raise her spirits after her conversation with her father.
Percy was by the elevator when Sheila found him. She explained what Hephaestus told her, not bothering to leave anything out. The boy did the same after, and by the time they were finished, the elevator reached the lobby. The guard didn't pay them any mind as they exited the Empire State Building. Its top was lit blue, making Sheila nudge Percy playfully.
While waiting for a taxi, Percy tried convincing Sheila to accompany him to his apartment. The girl wanted to but couldn't wait to see her brothers again. She also needed the comfort of Charlie's presence. Seeing her father for the first time in thirteen years had confused her.
Sheila was about to slide into the backseat of a taxi when Percy called her name. Holding the door open, she faced him with a questioning stare.
"Yeah?"
Percy reached inside his jeans pocket, taking out the necklace he found on the shore. "Happy late birthday."
Sheila's eyes widened, a smile breaking out on her face. Instead of grabbing the necklace, she did something that shocked her and Percy. She hugged him.
"Thank you so much," she muttered. Pulling away quickly, Sheila gently grasped the jewel. "Where did you find it?"
Ignoring his cheeks growing warm, Percy cleared his throat. "I-it was on the beach. After my fight with Ares, I found it in the sand. I don't know how it went from the Mississippi River to the Santa Monica beach, but it did."
Sheila stared at the necklace before handing it to Percy. "Can you put it on?"
With slightly wide eyes, he nodded. Sheila turned around and held her hair up. Percy attached the necklace around her neck, putting it back where it belonged. He swore her eyes were brighter than the sun as she grinned at him.
"Thank you again, Jackson. I'll see you at Camp. Don't get killed in the meantime," she told him, then sat in the taxi.
"Don't get killed either, Butterfly," Percy said, closing the door and watching as the taxi sped away.
________________________________________________________________________________
A/N ⁓ One chapter of TLT left!
Percy and Sheila's first hug!! Sadly, the only one for a little while, but still!
The first interaction between Sheila and her father. Honestly, I think Hephaestus would be one of the only good parents since he knows what it's like to be rejected and wouldn't want that for his children. However, he is still flawed, as shown through Sheila's POV
What do you think about it?
Also, a warning, the next chapter is the famous betrayal...
I'm not ready for it
Vote or comment if you like this story. It always encourages the authors when readers do that.
Have a nice day, demigods ;)
-voidheda