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moodyseal · 5 years

Text

A spark of hope

You can read it on AO3!

°Beware you, who hasn’t read “The Burning Maze”! This is nay lodging for thee!°

A/N: After two months or something, I finally finished this. I don’t know how I managed to write so much and, in all honesty, I don’t want to think about this anymore. I’ll just... leave it here. And never touch it again. Unless I need to correct some mistakes, of course.

It’s set in a hypothetical situation where only part of the Triumvirate has been defeated, and Apollo still has to face Python. It should be... during/post “The Tyrant’s Tomb”? I don’t know. It’s not the situation that I generally imagine, but in this case I needed it to be like this, so... yeah.

Most people are interested in how Thalia would react to Jason’s death, but... what about Percy?

I hope that you’ll enjoy it!

---

And of all that ominous clamor,

of all that virulent squall, that plight,

remains nothing but a soft whimper

in the damp air of night.

(’My night’, Giovanni Pascoli)

---

I have never realized how quickly a day can change, going from being a little miracle of joy and tranquillity to a real degradation worthy of the lowest tortures in the Fields of Punishment.

At first, you're there, cheerful and calm, and then BOOM! Someone's eager to kill you.

But let me explain what happened, first.

Meg and I had just finished cleaning the stables - since, sadly, it was our turn that day -, and we were walking down the path back to the barracks. Meg was rambling about something like the plants and the trees and gardening, but I wasn't paying much attention.

The sun was setting, painting the sky with soft colors and radiating a golden glow which embraced all the hills of Camp Jupiter, and a gentle wind was ruffling my hair. The ripples of laughter of the campers, who were sitting here and there on the grass to chat a bit before dinner, were surrounding me, and the happiness that brought them to life made my chest vibrate with indescribable emotion.

I closed my eyes for a brief moment, and I pictured myself being in another place, in another time. Crete, Athens, Sparta, Carthage, Rome. Those could be the laughter of anyone.

The laughter of someone whose voice, now, was just an echo lost in the wind.

— Hey, planet Earth to Apollo. Do you hear me or are your ears stuffed? — said my young friend, next to me, snapping her fingers to get my attention. Sometimes she even hit me on the arm - and her hits, let me say this, weren't exactly delicate -, but I didn't care.

I opened my eyes again, taking my attention back to Camp Jupiter: ruins, more ruins everywhere from the last battle. A vague scent of blood still persisting in the air, where the fighting has been denser.

But the demigods were still there. Maybe their hearts were torn because of the friends they had lost, maybe they still woke up in the night, screaming because of the nightmares, maybe they let some tears loose when they saw the scars on their body, reminders of a tragedy, but they were still alive. They were smiling, they were having fun, they were moving on. Despite everything.

I felt overwhelmed by their joy, and I understood its meaning.

Not everything was lost.

— Apollo? — repeated Meg, with a frown and this time, surprisingly, with a mildly worried tone. — Are you okay?

I turned to her, quickly. — Yes, yes, of course, I am. — I cleared my throat. — I was just... well, it's possible that I got distracted. It's a nice day. — I grinned. — We gods of poetry always search material for our haikus, you know?

— The only thing that I know is that you're the only god of poetry. — she responded, turning back to her old self. — The only one that writes lame haikus, at least.

I was going to reply with a sentence in Ancient Greek which is not exactly an appropriate thing that a twelve-year-old child should hear, an instinct dating back to the time my sister used to mock me for my poetry (it's already been a year?), and also with a correction, since I'm not the only god of poetry out there (I missed my Muses so much), when suddenly, out of nowhere, we heard someone screaming.

I started panicking.

What was happening? Part of the Triumvirate had been defeated. Did the other part decide to attack the camp, again?

Had Python grown tired of crawling in that narrow space that is the cave of the Oracle of Delphi, waiting for me to show up, and decided to take his revenge in that precise moment?

Maybe someone put on a stereo with a registration of Hermes singing under the shower.

Wait, no, even worse: Hera without makeup. Gods, everything but that.

Then I realized that those weren't screams of agony: they were cries of exultation. We came closer to their source - an indistinct mass of purple shirts and young arms -, a bit further from where we were before, making our way through the demigods, and we finally saw the cause of all that mess: Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase, two of the six seven heroes of the Great Prophecy, came back to Camp Jupiter.

I noticed that they were visibly struggling, even lost, in a way: they were going from one place to the other, trying to escape that little horde of people, but someone constantly blocked them by greeting them, hugging them, talking to them. And they were smiling anyway while replying with patience, but failing to hide that "Get out of my way" that I could clearly read in their eyes.

They were probably tired after the long trip - especially considering that the definition of "traveling" has a totally different shade for the demigods and that Percy can't travel by plane since, well, he's a son of Poseidon. And Poseidon doesn't have a good relationship with his brother, who is also my father, who is also the almighty Zeus, king of the gods, god of thunder and god of the sky. So, god of the airplanes, in a way.

Anyway, we decided to wait for the young campers to scatter before we got close, since it would be useless to even try to walk between all those people.

I have seen situations like this only a few times: I experienced something similar around the year 430 B.C., at the time of the Peloponnesian War - the Athens were all gathered within the Long Walls (yes, the ancients had a great fantasy when it came to naming things), trying to avoid the assault of the Spartans, while I was just nosing around.

Even if I was a god, I had my problems too in that crowd. At some point, after falling down because of the push of a man, I freaked out and started to throw deadly arrows, hitting everyone except the guy who made me fall - who also, ironically, lived until he was eighty-four - and causing the death of Pericles and of one quarter of the population of Athens.

So Pericles, if you're reading this, I'm sorry, nothing personal.

No, wait, you can't. You're dead. (I can be really funny sometimes, can't I?)

Gradually, everyone left. Someone greeted us, others just gave us a scowl, making my pulse significantly increase. I took some steps back.

They're not accusing you.

Calm down.

It's not your fault that the Triumvirate attacked.

I'm sorry.

It's not your fault that all those people died.

Forgive me.

It isn't, is it?

— Percy, Annabeth! — I greeted, with a smile.

Percy and Annabeth stopped talking the moment they saw us approaching. I didn't know what to think of Percy, honestly, since his expression was hard to read. I'm pretty sure though that it was a mix of "Oh, nice, you're not dead" and "Why aren't you dead?".

Annabeth, instead, was looking at me with a trace of curiosity in her eyes, and it scared me that they were the spitting image of her mother's: stormy grey eyes that could dig deep down into your soul, pulling out every ounce of your essence and leaving you to cry desperately in a corner, while questioning your sense of self.

I saw Percy leaning down, and murmuring something to Annabeth. She raised her eyebrows, with her eyes wide, and pointed at me with her head. So that's when I understood that they were talking about me.

Great. Here we were again.

I sighed, already hearing her unbelieving voice echoing in my head: "He, the god Apollo? That teen with the face full of acne? Wasn't he hot once?".

The more time passed the more I believed that my father was having fun while making me deal with all those mortal problems.

Thanks, dad! It's a pleasure taking part in your personal reality show!

I dried my palms on my jeans, since they basically became sweat dispensers.

— Apollo? You're here too? Man, I thought I could live in peace for a few more months. — said Percy, with a grin, when we stopped right before them. — Weren't you with Leo and Calypso?

Judging by her lack of reaction, Annabeth must have already known that Leo was alive, and probably she had already sworn that she would take revenge on him as soon as she saw him. After taking the number, of course - there were a lot of people that wanted to give the little guy a lesson.

I laughed. — Actually, we spent together only the six weeks needed to get to Indianapolis and the week we've been there. Those two decided to remain there, while we continued our quest alone, along with occasional companions.

— You? — asked Percy, tilting his head. — You and who?

I suddenly remembered that Percy didn't know about what happened between January and that moment. His last memory about Meg dates back to the time when she betrayed me, switching on the side of her step-father, Nero, who meanwhile was trying to burn my kids alive. Not exactly the best experience.

I also realized, only at that moment, that Meg was surprisingly uncomfortable. I could see it in the way she was moving, as if she was becoming smaller under our gaze, and by the way she was playing with her rings.

I pointed at Meg with a gest and shook my head. That was not the right moment to talk about it.

— We should get going. — I said, trying to change the subject. — Reyna, Frank, and Hazel will probably want to see you. Also, if Reyna will ever discover that I've been holding you for more time than necessary, she'll probably break one of my arms. And I only have two.

While we were walking, I tried to isolate Percy and myself, so we could talk alone for a moment. He still looked at Meg with suspicion, as though he was expecting her to suddenly turn at us, yell "HAIL THE EMPERORS!" and then run away, setting fire to everything and everyone.

Meg and Annabeth went ahead without even noticing, because they started to have a conversation of their own; Percy and I stayed a few feet behind.

— What's this about? — whispered Percy, with a disapproving tone. — Wasn't she with N...

— Yes, yes, she was! — I interrupted. When she wants it, Meg can have an extraordinarily sharp ear, but she also has a low attention span, so as long as we didn't pronounce her stepfather's name - drawing, in this way, her attention to what we're saying - we would have been fine.

I told him what happened in Indianapolis, being careful to moderate my tone: how Meg escaped from Commodus, our encounter with Lityerses, the arrival of Demeter's daughter.

She and Annabeth were even farther from us now, though, so there wasn't any chance they could hear me.

Percy proceeded in silence, mulling.

— I'd be careful if I were you. — he said, in the end, glancing at Meg. — The last time I trusted an enemy...

He seemed to get lost in a distant memory. His gaze turned distant, and his face contorted in an expression of regret and sorrow.

— Meg's not an enemy, Percy. She's still a child. She needs a family. — I said, simply.

I saw with my own eyes how Nero manipulated her. I saw with my own eyes how desperate she looked, when she believed that she could change her stepfather's attitude, when she tried to convince herself that no, Nero and the Beast couldn't be the same person; only the Beast was bad, an occasional threat, like some sort of evil Santa Claus, dressed in purple, Roman clothes who came once in a while to get her back in line. "Ho, ho, ho! Hi, I'm here to destroy everything you love!".

Sometimes it happened that I asked myself "Is it really just the homicide of her father? What if there's another reason why Meg is so scared of the Beast?".

But I never got an answer, because I didn't want to know.

I couldn't imagine what he might have done, I didn't want to imagine. I never asked her, and the only things she had told me were the ones I knew in that instant. And it was fine, for the moment.

There were yet a couple more seconds of silence, then Percy spoke again: — You said that you went to Indianapolis. Did you go somewhere else, before heading to Camp Jupiter?

— Well, Leo didn't, because of the prophecy we received in the Cave of Trophonius. — I shivered, remembering the sonnet. If I was ever going to return being a god (well, I would, of that I was certain), I would make sure that no other prophecy would be pronounced in this form. — We, on the other hand...

— Prophecy? — Percy interrupted, frowning. — What prophecy?

I recited quickly the prophecy we got at Indianapolis. — As you can understand, it refers to a probable attack to Camp Jupiter - which happened, actually. Leo went here to help everyone prepare for it. But before you ask, the only thing I know is that a lot of valiant heroes have fallen, nothing else. You should ask Reyna, or Frank, or others - I wasn't there when it happened.

I turned for a moment, glancing at a pile of stones that fell from a building, further away.

No, I wasn't there that time.

— While Leo was flying with Festus to warn the demigods here at Camp, — I said, turning again to face Percy and clearing my throat. — we went to Palm Springs, in California.

He looked at me, curious. — How did you do that? There are at least two thousand miles from Indianapolis to California, and you said that Festus wasn't there to give you a ride.

I told him about how Meg summoned Grover from a plant of tomatoes (at which he commented "At this point of my life, I'm not even as surprised as I should be"), and how he guided us through the Labyrinth (another comment, with which I had to agree: "Nasty place").

He tried to hold his excitement during the story, but in vain. In the end, he emitted a high squeal, his eyes shining with joy.

— Grover! You met Grover! As in, Grover Underwood? — he said, grabbing my shoulders. I flinched. — How's he? Is he okay? Where is he now?

I laughed. — Of course he's okay. Last time we saw him, he was going home, to Camp Halfblood. He should be already there, I think.

Percy seemed confused, at first; then his expression changed, seeming slightly indignant. — Camp Halfblood? Why didn't he tell us? We have the empathetic link! — He took his hands off my shoulders. — Annabeth and I could have stopped by!

— You and I what? — asked Annabeth, raising an eyebrow, joining us along with Meg. They both seemed to have laughed recently; their eyes were still shining, and their cheeks were slightly red.

— Grover is back at Camp Half-blood! — exclaimed Percy, turning to her. — Can you believe it?

Annabeth stopped, looking at Percy for a few seconds; then, she started walking again, in a huff. — I can't-, he-... argh! That little... — She trembled with anger, clenching her fists. — It's been a year since we last heard from him, and Juniper was so worried! — She started shaking her head, with Percy supporting what she was saying, while Meg and I observed, amused, the scene. — The next time I'll see him he'll regret being gone for so long!

I busted out laughing, looking at Percy. — We'll need a take-a-number machine for Grover too!

He started giggling, while Annabeth and Meg looked like they didn't have any idea of what was going on.

— Did you see anybody else during your quests? — asked Percy, with a smile still on his face, wiping away a tear. The Principia, the praetors' headquarter, was right in front of us. — If I'm not mistaken, Jason and Piper go to a high school in Palm Springs, where you've been. Did you meet them?

I instantly felt my blood running cold in my veins, and we stopped again.

I turned to Meg: she was looking at me too, with the same expression as usual - the expression of someone who's ready to punch you at any moment, and would be happy to do so -, but paler.

What could I do? I didn't know the answer to that, just as Percy and Annabeth didn't know about Jason. No, they didn't know: nobody could tell them, since all of the communication systems didn't seem to work. I was pretty sure that even the empathic link wasn't working as it should have.

Did I have to do that? In that moment?

Did I have to tell them?

It's your fault if Jason's dead, now pay the consequences.

No.

It's your fault if all of Jason's friends aren't happy as they were before.

No.

It's your fault if everyone hates you, now. They have a good reason for that.

...

It's all your fault.

— Yes. — I licked my lips, nervously, trying to keep my voice steady. — We... we met them. — My throat was sore. My heart was beating so fast that I feared someone could hear it pound. I looked up. — We're here.

And then I ran to the Principia, leaving the others behind.

Now, remember when I said the week during which we've been in the Labyrinth has been "the lowest, most humiliating, most awful week in my four thousand plus years of life"?

Yeah, well, scratch that.

I mean, yes, that week really was terrible. I probably cried more in those seven days - maybe five - than in four thousand years. Every time I checked my mental agenda, everything I saw was "certain death". Worse than poetry in the Decadent period.

"Hey, do you want to watch a movie tonight?", "I can't, I'm sorry. I have to go battle some people that plan on killing me and flaying me alive in the most painful way. Maybe next time?".

But I didn't consider one thing: having to tell everybody about Jason's death.

That's the kind of news that could destroy you, ruin your mind and consequentially your life.

And it wasn't the kind of news that I wanted to give.

When we entered, Reyna and Frank were cleaning up, putting away some maps and battle schemes.

— Hey, Reyna, Frank. — I greeted, trying to smile and not to notice the worried looks of Percy and Annabeth. When the two praetors raised their head, I pointed to somewhere behind me. — There's someone who wants to see you. Two people, actually.

— Yeah? And who are they? — asked Reyna, curiously, lifting one eyebrow. She lifted the other too when she saw the two heroes enter the room. I noticed that they were still suspicious about my recent behavior, but when they saw their friends all of that vanished.

— Oh, di immortales. — whispered Reyna, while her lips stretched slowly into a smile. She literally ran to them, hugging them, and so did Frank. — Thank the gods, you're here! You're okay!

— We shouldn't be? — Percy detached from Reyna's hug, looking confused. — Did something happen?

She paused. — Everything happened. — she then responded, shaking her head. Reyna sat down on a chair, inviting us to do so too. — I think that you already know about the troubles that the emperors brought, right? No communication means is working, and we couldn't contact anyone. We didn't know if you were alright, if you were still alive. The worry only grew after Apollo and Meg arrived with... — She gestured vaguely, her eyes darker than before, and she didn't finish the sentence.

Annabeth shared a look with Percy, then she said: — The Triumvirate has been here, am I right? — Her voice was quiet, like she was talking about a secret that nobody was supposed to know. — I saw many ruins on my way here, and Meg explained me something.

— The past two weeks have been quite rough. We had two attacks, one after the other. — said Frank, looking around with tired eyes, his face pale. — We weren't prepared. Many demigods... — He paused, looking down. — Many brave demigods lost their lives.

— We never burned so many pyres. — said Reyna, with her face twisted in sorrow.

The daughter of Athena looked at her for a second; then she got up with Percy, and they both sat down alongside Reyna to give her strength, like the one she often gave others with her power.

I observed everything while sitting in the back, like I wasn't there, like I was a stranger to that conversation. It wasn't because I didn't care, no: I did care, I cried too for those losses - and even if most of them were people that I didn't know that well, it still tore my heart, because those were still lives. Lives lost forever, lives of young people who wanted to continue living but didn’t have the chance to do so.

No, it wasn't for that: I felt a silent accusation in their words, a cry of pain full of anger and hatred and sadness, an unspoken prayer for a better future. And it made me uncomfortable, since it was directed to the gods - so, in a way, to me too.

I promised Jason I would help the demigods, I promised him that I'd try to stop those atrocities that happened in the past years - decades, centuries, millennia -, that I would teach the gods to care, to be compassionate towards the mortals, the demigods, everyone. But I needed time in order to do that. Time to retrieve my status as an Olympian, time to get back to my family, time to talk to them, to make them reason.

Give me time.

I'm trying. I'll fix everything.

I promise.

My stomach twisted.

— Apollo? — called Frank, in a concerned tone.

I raised my head, quickly. — Oh, I'm sorry, I spaced out. What...?

— We asked you if you could tell us about all that happened after you went away with Leo and Calypso. — repeated Percy, talking slowly, with the same apprehensive look that everyone had on their faces, at that moment.

I observed each one of them. Then, I sighed with resignation. — Fine.

I started to recount all that happened after I left Camp Halfblood, again, with occasional and totally unnecessary comments given by Meg: the six weeks I spent with Leo and Calypso, the arrival to Indianapolis, the Waystation, the reunion with Meg.

I had some trouble here, actually: Meg seemed to be really uncomfortable - I sensed that from the way she shifted on her seat, like she was about to flee -, and even I wasn't that eager to talk about it. Meg and I never really discussed it, neither we wanted to, so for all that time that subject simply remained on hold.

But luckily the others praised Meg for the fact that she had the courage to run away from her stepfather, so everything was fine.

I tried to talk the least possible about Commodus - every time I tried to pronounce his name, I felt like my tongue had been cut. It still hurt to think about him.

Then I told the rest: how Meg summoned Grover from a plant of tomatoes - with great surprise of Annabeth, who from that moment on probably started having a totally different idea about the children of Demeter -, our journey throughout the Labyrinth, Aeithales, how we met Piper and all the quests that followed.

My voice got stuck in my throat a few times, when I had to talk about Jason, and there was a tense atmosphere in the room. Percy and Annabeth seemed to feel it but they clearly didn't understand why.

I didn't mention the prophecy of Herophile about Jason and Piper.

— Caligula had captured us. — I said, playing with the fabric of my shirt. I felt more nauseous than I ever did in my whole life, thinking about Percy and Annabeth's reaction when I would tell them about Jason. — His guards caught Jason and Meg, while Piper and I were surprised by Incitatus, the horse of Caligula, while we were searching for his magical shoes.

Annabeth stopped me with a gesture. — Wait. The... horse of Caligula? Did you get caught by a horse?

— Don't underestimate horses! — intervened Percy, grinning.

— Yeah. That was a pretty strong and big horse. And he could talk. And he... wanted to conquer the world. — I said, trying to laugh, but what came out was more similar to the sound of a dying duck. — In any case, Jason and Meg were trapped in cages of wind, while Piper and I were left free because I wasn't really a threat and Piper... well, she was half unconscious. At that point Caligula tried to kill them, but I managed to... distract him, at first. — I felt Meg's stare piercing my head. I wouldn't talk about the arrow. I didn't want the pity of anyone, and it wasn't even that important.

— Jason freed Meg and himself from the venti. There was one last battle. He... — I stopped, unable to continue. My hands were trembling.

I couldn't do it.

— Apollo.

At the sound of Meg's voice calling me, trying to encourage me despite sounding more like a threat, I clenched my fists, closing my eyes. — Jason was killed by Caligula.

I thought that I was in oblivion, for a moment: not a sound, not a movement.

Then I opened my eyes, again, and I lifted my gaze.

I wished I didn't do that.

Annabeth and Percy's expressions were a horrible mix of disbelief and sorrow that in the past I saw too often on someone else's face.

The expression of who was betrayed by a friend.

The expression of who assisted to a tragedy.

The expression of who lived that tragedy, without even having a chance to prepare themselves.

I saw it on Piper, on Grover, on Coach Hedge. I often saw it on the faces of demigods. Rarely I've seen it on the faces of my immortal relatives; sometimes, in the past - before she started shutting herself in permanently, not letting me see her emotions, before Orion - I saw it even on Artemis' face.

On the face of Jason, it appeared smudged by resignation.

Annabeth leaned with her elbows on her knees, covering her face with her hands, letting them go slowly through her hair.

I heard an unintelligible muttering, while teardrops started to fall on the floor.

Percy was still blocked. He was shaking his head, taking his eyes from one spot to the other. His face frowned in confusion, and a half-smile appeared on his lips.

— No. — he said, with a burst of hysterical laughter. He passed a hand through his hair, he got up, he started to walk back and forth around the room. I could hear his inconsistent breathing. — No, no. Jason can't be dead. He's too powerful to be killed off by a crumbling, undead grandpa. He can't be dead. Everyone, but him.

— Percy, we saw him. — murmured Frank, with a soft, sorrowful voice. — The spear got his heart.

— No! Frank, I fought with Jason! — yelled Percy, badly hiding his desperation. — I know his standards, he has killed more powerful enemies than that emperor!

He turned to Reyna, who flinched, unconsciously. — It's a joke, right? — His eyes were watering. — You're hiding him, somewhere. It has to be a joke. It has to. You, you...

He looked at Reyna, who was looking away while tears were falling down her cheeks.

Finally, he let out a loud sob, falling on his knees.

We stayed silent for a bit, all immersed in our pain.

Percy talked again, with a nasal voice. — I... I had the feeling that something bad had happened. A couple of weeks ago. A strange kind of anxiety that squeezed me and didn't want to let me go. I thought it was for the exams, but it was- it was still strange. I didn't- I never could have thought that it was the- the empathic link, I... — Other sobs. — There must have been a way to let us know. There must have been! Why didn't you do it? Why?

I sensed a hostile edge to his tone, and I tried to calm him down. — Percy, there wasn't any way we could...

Of course, given my omnipresent bad luck, things didn't go as planned.

At the sound of my voice, Percy seemed to just have remembered that I existed and quickly got up on his feet, making me flinch and stop talking.

He looked at me with a fury in his eyes that I would have never attributed to him. I took a step back. — You. It's your fault. — he growled, while others started to grow more and more agitated. Meg shifted, tense. Her fingers were already on her rings. — So shut up. I don't want to hear a single word coming out of your mouth.

I tried to reason with him, even though I was shaking. — Percy, please, I didn't...

— He died while you were there! — he yelled, coming closer, while his eyes glowed with a dangerous light. The tears were still dropping. — YOU! YOU DRAGGED HIM IN THAT DAMNED QUEST, AND HE DIED TRYING TO PLEASE WHATEVER THE FUCK WERE YOUR WISHES, AS ALWAYS!

— The Moirai already established that he would die, Percy, and Jason knew that! — I finally revealed, as fast as I could, before he could interrupt me again. — A prophecy warned that, in the future, if he and Piper would go to battle Caligula, one of them would die! Jason chose to come!

There was a pause. Then Percy huffed, sarcastic.

— Oh, so this should make me feel better. — he said, in such a low and thin voice that it terrified me even more than the screams did. — Very well. But did your egocentric ass ever think that maybe Jason didn’t have the heart to tell you no, because his sense of duty was too high? Did you ever think that maybe you could resolve this situation by bringing to your quest only one of them? Did you ever think that Jason could still live, if that happened? DID YOU EVER THINK ABOUT THAT? — I looked elsewhere, searching for the comforting gaze of my friends. No one could look at me. I felt empty. — NO! BECAUSE THE ONLY THINGS YOU GODS THINK ABOUT IS YOUR PERSONAL GAIN, SINCE YOU'RE JUST SELF-ABSORBED, CRUEL BASTARDS!

I thought that I would hear thunder, as always. Something, anything.

Nothing happened.

Only I was listening, as a god. (former god?)

I tried to talk, struggling to find the words because Percy was right. I didn't think about that. Not even for an instant, convinced as I was that there was no other solution.

I thought that I was starting to be a good person, that there was hope even for a god soaked in millennia's worth of blood such as me. How can I still think that, now?

Maybe I tried to save him, yes, but it was still my fault, I still got him killed. I couldn't really think that I was becoming good just because I tried to prevent someone's death, could I? You can't erase blood with more blood.

But before I could even spit a word, I found myself with my head violently slamming against the wall, and Percy lifting me up with the collar of my shirt as everyone gasped.

— Percy, let him go! — screamed Meg, somewhere at the right, with her voice full of panic. Percy ignored her.

— Did you ever care about demigods? Did you ever consider our lives important, or are we just little toys in your now not-so-mighty grip, that you send to do some "little commission" just because you don't want to do it? — he hissed, coldly. I heard my blood pulse in my ears. — I didn't leave you to die on the road just because you were escorting another demigod, just so you know that. — It shouldn't have hurt as much as it did. There were plenty of people who would have left me to die in a similar situation, including Percy, and I knew it, even if once I tried to ignore it. Still, that phrase cut through me like a sword. — If that didn't occur, I would have slammed the door in your face the moment I saw you, because none of you deities from Olympus deserve even an ounce of pity after what you did, and still do!

I listened in silence, not even trying to free myself.

Yet again, Percy was right. We gods were too indifferent during the years, too distracted, we sent the demigods to do too many dangerous quests. "Can you bring me this magic comb particularly known for its abilities? I have tremendous knots in my hair. Ah, I almost forgot: it is protected by a really big and really deadly dragon. Have fun!"; "Hey, I lost my favorite magical object, could you retrieve it? It fell into Tartarus!"; always like this. And when someone died, "Oh no, he couldn't finish the quest! What a shame. Who's next?". We never realized that, even if they're children of the gods, they're still human, still frail. No demigod ever complained not because they were happy to go to die, but because they were scared that they would be incinerated.

The pulsation in my ears was too loud, and I couldn't get a word of what Percy was saying. I saw him still yelling. I saw the scared expressions of the others, Frank trying to reason with him, Meg frantically talking to try to distract him.

Was he going to kill me? I didn't know that, but I was sure he would. But maybe I deserved it. It would be a good price to pay, considering all the death I left behind me in these four thousand years.

Little black dots were dancing before my eyes, and my head was at times heavy, at times light.

How many people died for my foolish desires? How many lives did I ruin for my egoism, for my ignorance?

A lot, too many. Every face I could recall, everyone passed before my eyes: my lovers, my friends, my children, my family, people who I don't know at all. But there are many more of them, I know that.

Even my father was right, in punishing me.

I caused too much misery with my vanity.

Did I still deserve to be a god?

I felt like pins and needles were poking in my skin, and a tightening started radiating in my chest, in my body, everywhere.

I almost couldn't breathe.

Maybe it's because I unconsciously held my breath, I thought.

Maybe...

No.

I didn't.

I wasn't holding my breath, I wasn't, I wasn't, I was DYING-

I closed my eyes, searching for air, but it only made everything worse. But no one was holding my throat, Percy's hands were only holding my shirt, nothing else.

Still, I felt like I was drowning.

My head hurt and spun and I felt like it was exploding, and when I opened my eyes the dots were dancing faster, and faster, passing from a slow dance to a tango.

I still couldn't bring myself to fight, and I closed my eyes again.

I knew it was because of Percy.

Being the powerful son of Poseidon that he is, he has this lovely power that allows him to manipulate not only water, but sometimes even other liquids.

Blood, for example.

I remember that there was one time when Poseidon and I had a big row, and he gave me a taste of this power in a really similar way, manipulating the ichor in my veins. He didn't do it on purpose, of course: it's one of those great and dangerous powers that you never use, powers that could hurt and kill and Zeus knows what else, powers that you can't control.

Still, it gave me some problems, and I was a god at the time.

At that moment, I was a mortal. I could be broken with the ease of a glass window, and I could die. Which, it seemed, would have happened in a few more minutes.

— Why didn't you save him? — hissed Percy, coming closer; that's the only reason why I could vaguely hear him. — Why?

I didn't answer.

He looked at me with narrowed eyes, disdainful. — You didn't change at all.

He let go of my shirt, and I fell to the ground, on my hands and knees. I concentrated on my breathing, trying to bring it back within a normal range.

My heart was pounding in my chest, I don't know if for the scare or for who knows what, and my head was throbbing like it never did before.

Maybe my skull was just some sort of time bomb, and the pulsation was counting the minutes that I had left to live, before its explosion.

It could be a possibility.

— ...pollo! Apollo!

I turned, and saw Meg snapping her fingers in front of my face, as if she was trying to get my attention.

No, wait a second. She was, actually, trying to get my attention.

I tried to advise her to test my response to external stimuli with her hands a bit further from my ears, since my head was already aching without her contribution, but all that came out from my mouth was a faint "Nghhfff", so I gave up.

— Are you alright? — asked Meg, quietly. At times, she looked at me with a concerned gaze, while giving Percy a furious look (and I found that to be quite surprising); other times, though, she did the opposite, giving me furious looks and giving Percy concerned ones (which, of course, didn't surprise me at all).

On the background, I heard the voices of the others, trying to tell Percy something, but I didn't understand what they said.

— I'm fine. — I croaked, trying to regain that bit of dignity that I might have still had by straightening my back; my body, on the other hand, decided that I didn't deserve such rare blessing, so I found myself on all my fours, again, trying to catch my breath.

Curse this mortal body.

The voices stopped, and I managed to lift my head. No one was speaking. Reyna and Frank were glancing both at me and at Percy, obviously wanting to say something, while the worried - and scared? - eyes of Annabeth were all for Percy, whose back was turned at me. He was shaking.

— Does Thalia know? — he asked at some point, with his voice hoarse.

Even if one week had passed, I could still feel the lightning run through my spine.

— He was my brother! — Thalia said, while she was sobbing, after all calmed down. Her blue eyes were glassy, screaming all their pain. — He was my brother!

The grass was still sizzling.

— She knows. — responded Reyna, with a calm tone.

Percy nodded slightly. — And that emperor... Caligula. Is he dead?

Frank sighed, crossing his arms. — Unfortunately, not yet. He escaped in the last battle, but we don't know where he went. He might have returned to his original position.

Annabeth and I shared a look, for a brief second. We realized at the same moment.

— No, — she said, approaching Percy, finally awaking from her slumber. — No. Don't you even think about it, Percy.

— Oh, of course I'm thinking about it. — he replied, trying to get to the door. — I'll ask Thalia to come. I won't be alone, don't worry.

Annabeth placed herself in front of him, intimidating.

Even with her eyes still red and watering, it was a terrifying prospect to just try to meet her gaze. Probably because of this, Percy took a step back. — Did you go insane? — she yelled, clenching her fists. — Didn't you hear what they told about Caligula? He probably has thousands of monsters at his service! You don't even have a plan!

— I don't care. I'll find a way to get around this. — answered Percy, stoic. — We always did.

Annabeth squinted her eyes, like she was trying to challenge him. — Then I'll come with you.

Percy widened his eyes. — No, wait, but...

— Either I'll come with you, Percy, or you won't go anywhere, I assure you this. It's up to you.

It could seem like a ridiculous condition, since Percy was at least a head taller than Annabeth, but it's never a wise choice to underestimate a demigod, especially a child of Athena - and it looked like Percy knew this. He remained silent for a moment, having to choose between the revenge for Jason and Annabeth's life, along with his and Thalia's; then, with a furious puff, he quickly got past Annabeth and walked out.

— Percy! Percy! — yelled Annabeth, and probably she would probably have run after him if Reyna didn't hold her back.

Reyna tried to calm her. — He won't leave, Annabeth, — she said, softly. — He will come to his senses. He can be impulsive sometimes, but he's not stupid. You know that better than me.

— And what if he decides to go anyway? — whispered Annabeth, wiping her eyes with her hand. — He will do it, Reyna. Before realizing that he made a huge mistake, he will already be on one of those yachts, fighting.

Reyna looked like she was about to say something, but I didn't give her the chance to speak. — I'll go talk to him, — I mumbled, yet my voice was loud in the absolute silence of the room. Annabeth stared at me, as if she just acknowledged my presence, while Reyna crossed her arms, studying me for a moment.

— Apollo, listen... — said Frank, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. — I don't want to say this, but don't you think that it will be worse if you go, instead of someone else?

— No. — I began. I got up, not with ease, with my head now pounding as if it was a speaker in a club, on Friday night, using both Meg (who seemed unusually concerned towards my condition) and the wall as support.

— None of you fully witnessed the horrors that Caligula can commit. — I explained, looking at each one of them. — And what Meg and I told you isn't even one quarter of what that psycho can do. It's not even one octave. That's why I have to talk to him.

— But you do realize that he's angry at you, right? — asked Reyna, moving towards me. — He thinks that it's your fault. He'll need a bit more time to understand that it's not. — She paused. — Like we all did. He won't want to listen to you, Apollo.

I came close to the exit, stopping at the doorstep. I put a hand on the dark wood of the door. — At least I will be able to say that I tried. — I declared, finally leaving.

---

When I went out, a mild gust of wind invested me, bringing dust in my eyes, at which I cussed heavily.

I couldn't look for someone without seeing properly, right?

Obviously, Mother Nature didn't agree with me.

Anyway, the sun had already set, replaced by that pale half-moon who couldn't be anything but my sister, guiding her chariot into the sky (could she see me, at that moment?). The sky was dark, full of souls and stars like the freckles on someone's cheeks, and only a couple of clouds dared to show themselves.

Camp Jupiter was deserted, if not counting those few demigods who were passing from one building to another, still not at dinner, so my research wasn't that difficult.

I found Percy in the stables, while he was talking to a pegasus.

— C'mon, buddy, I just need one ride. — he was saying, with a friendly tone. — I promise that after that I'll give you as many sugar cubes as you want.

— Percy. — I called.

Percy's shoulders tensed; he patted the animal, turning around in a way so I could see only half of him, and waited silently for me to talk.

I approached him, taking a few steps forward, cautiously slow. — Do you know that it's not good to give sugar to a pegasus? The stomach of these animals, just like the stomach of horses, is not suited to process sugar, — I said, trying to concentrate on some other topic to lighten the mood. I had horses, once, since in ancient times there weren't cars, so I knew what I was talking about. — They like them, yes, but then they usually feel sick.

The pegasus neighed, displeased.

— Hey, that's not an appropriate language to use! — said Percy, referring to the horse. He looked at me. — This pegasus right here said that you should mind your own business.

— Well, he should excuse me if I care about his physical health! — I replied, lifting an eyebrow.

Ah, when I was younger the pegasi were more grateful. Today's youth don't appreciate anything.

The pegasus neighed again.

— Her, actually. It's a female, — translated Percy, while petting her. — And she says that you don't care about her mental health, though.

I shrugged.

The silence that followed was quite embarrassing, but luckily (or unluckily, depends on the perspective) it was interrupted.

— Did they send you to try and talk me out of this? — asked Percy, sighing. — They know that I'll do it anyway, right?

— Well... actually, they didn't send me. Not really. — I admitted, kicking a pebble on the ground. — Annabeth wanted to go, but I offered to go in her place. They said that you wouldn't want to listen to me, but look at what's happening: you're doing it!

I let out a nervous laugh, spreading my arms as if I'd just said the joke of the century. Obviously, Percy didn't laugh.

— If I'm listening to you it doesn't mean that I want to. — he said instead, turning his back to me again. — In fact, I don't want to see you either. I just want to be alone, so go away.

I sighed, letting down my arms again.

— Percy, please, don't do anything crazy. You don't know the danger you're running towards to. Caligula is a literal psychopath.

— Wow, big news. — replied the son of Poseidon, with a sarcastic tone. — It's almost like I fought perfectly sane people up until now.

— I'm not joking. — I insisted, taking a few steps forward. My hands were trembling. — Even I was intimidated by him, when I was a god. That beast doesn't have moral limits.

— When haven't you gods been scared of something? — he inquired, finally completely looking at me. His gaze was harsh, and so his voice. In a moment of confusion, I thought that I was in front of his father. — Our quests are always fueled by the fact that you are scared. Scared of doing something, of dealing with someone. So excuse me if what you said didn't surprise me.

I raised my hands, only to let them down again after a few seconds.

— Fine. Fine, yes. You're right. — I said, closing my eyes for a moment. My head had started to throb again, just when I thought it had stopped. — But you do realize that if you go both you and Thalia will die, right? We were four. Meg grew up with Nero, so she should have known something about Caligula. Piper is a powerful demigod, and so... so was Jason. However, Piper, Meg and I... — I paused, while everything that happened that day flashed before my eyes.

Remember!

— We... we escaped only because Caligula got distracted again, because of Jason. And... — I took a shaky breath, with my heart aching and pounding, and pounding, and pounding. — And Caligula is distracted only by someone's death, or when his plans don't go as he thought. You can't defeat him on your own, Percy!

— You were injured, you said so yourself! — yelled Percy, and all the horses and pegasi in the room neighed in surprise. — We, on the other hand, will be in good shape, and ready to fight.

— But don't you remember that Caligula has a whole army of monsters? You'll be dead as soon as you take a step in his property! — I argued, talking in between my teeth. — A demigod died right before my eyes, because of that madman, and I wasn't able to do anything. — Tears started to well up in my eyes. — I won't let him kill anyone else, now that I can stop it.

Neither of us talked, for a bit.

Then Percy laughed. I didn't feel happiness in his tone.

I stared at him, shocked.

— Oh, and why couldn't you do anything for Jason? — he asked me, vaguely irritated. His eyes were sad, though. — Maybe you were too far from him, or something like that?

— No, I...

— Were you cowering in fear, maybe?

— Listen, I don't...

— Or is it because of that stupid little rule you and your family imposed on yourselves, because of which "you can't help us demigods"? What is its value, now that you're mortal?

— Stop it! — I snapped, as Percy stepped back, caught off guard. — Do you think that it was fun, watching Jason die? You know more than me how bad that is. So do you still think it was fun for me... do you think it was entertaining, being next to Piper when that happened, hear her and everyone's screaming, see the amused expression on the face of Caligula while his spear turned red, knowing that I couldn't help anyone because I didn't have the physical strength to do it? — I went one step further, with my voice shaking and my hands shaking and why was everything shaking? — Knowing that I could have done something if I had been still a god? Knowing that this wouldn't even have happened if I hadn't been so foolish...?

I hissed, between my heavy breathing, while around me the world spun and tightened more and more.

I put a hand on my eyes.

You already did this, calm down.

It's alright.

No one is in danger.

You are not in danger.

Discipline yourself.

Percy's expression slightly softened, losing that hostile edge which defined it just before.

— Apollo...

— I tried. — I interrupted him, again, passing tiredly a hand through my hair. At this point, what did I have to lose? — I tried to think of something, of anything, to keep both Jason and Piper alive. Caligula... he wanted to be the sun god, even in the ancient times. Take my place. — I leaned against a wall. — He could have done it, taking advantage of the fact that I was mortal. He had Medea's abilities, Helios' essence, he just needed mine. But he needed me to be alive for that. — I smirked, almost amused by the situation I just described.

You would never. You don't have a self-sacrificing instinct in your body!

— I had some arrows, no other plan. Trying to kill him was out of my reach. So I did the most obvious thing. — I ended, crossing my arms.

Percy tried to connect, frowning; when he did it, he looked surprised, even horrified. — No, wait a second. You didn't...?

— What other alternative did I have? — I asked, bitter. — I'm only a mortal now, and I didn't even have proper training, so if I tried to fight with Caligula he would have ended my life within the first five seconds. I didn't have a choice.

Percy looked at me with an illegible expression. Then he whispered: — Why didn't you tell us sooner, then?

I thought about it.

A short explanation for all my dear readers: it's not like I wanted to hide something from Percy and Annabeth, or anything. But do we really call "hiding" the omission of such a worthless detail?

And it's not like I actually hid it, anyway: it was a distraction, and I said we used a distraction.

See? No lie.

The truth of the matter is that I didn't want them to know the kind of trick I pulled out that day.

Also, did it really matter? Piper didn't care about the fact that I impaled myself with an arrow to try to distract Medea from her murderous shredders, for example, but she saw it. She saw it, but she still accused me of what happened.

And either way, they could have thought that I was trying to attract pity to avoid taking the blame on myself; they could have thought that I invented it; I could have dumped more pain on their hearts than the one they already had to bear.

— It was pointless. I failed. — I replied, quietly, with my eyes pinned to the ground. — And it wasn’t even that important.

In the silence that followed my words, Selfish Apollo hoped to be pitied - "C'mon, don't say that! You're important as well, and so is everything that you do!". In a way, Less Selfish Apollo hoped that too; maybe not in such a dramatic way, but he hoped it.

After my failed attempt of self-immolation, I thought that I would receive some sort of consolation - a hug, a reassurance, anything.

Instead? Only scolding, blaming, and harsh looks. And some kind of encouragement from a twelve-year-old dressed as a traffic-light - which I appreciated, anyway.

"But Apollo!" some of you could argue. "The demigods always live like this! What right do you have to complain?"

So I wasn’t allowed to want at least a bit of warmth? Someone who I could turn to?

My teenager instinct spoke up more loudly than ever, with its complicated state of "No, I don't want you, go away- WAIT, I CHANGED MY MIND, STAY, I NEED LOVE". I felt an intense feeling of homesickness, as I thought about my mom and my sister. My chest felt empty.

The demigods could have at least the company of other demigods - people who were similar to them, who could understand them.

Who did I have?

Meg, murmured my conscience.

But I knew that it wasn't the same.

I observed the demigod, who was shifting his gaze from one part to another, as if he was thinking of what to say; then I sighed, turning to the entrance, which showed Camp Jupiter, with its unclear details in the dark of the night: the temples, far away, and New Rome; the hills, enlightened by the moon, the flowers with their sweet colors, the lush trees.

I sat on the ground, and so did Percy, taking a seat next to me. I started talking without really following the conversation, probably talking more to myself than to Percy. — Sometimes I ask myself if I could have done something more. I wonder... if there was anything more that I could have done, something else that could have come up to my mind. — I whispered, looking at my hands as I was trying to not break down in sobs like a little child without his toy. — If I- If I hadn't been injured... could I have saved Jason? Could I have helped him? — I buried my head in my arms, with my stomach tightening. What could I have done?

Percy studied me, for a moment, then he looked outside.

— It's okay. — he said, holding his elbows. — Feeling like this, I mean. It's okay.

I gave him a confused glare. — It... it happened to you?

Percy seemed to get lost in a past memory, looking at nothing with a distant gaze; then he nodded, slightly, without looking at me in the eyes. — Now that I think about it, yes. Do you remember Bianca Di Angelo?

I had a vague idea of who she was, even though my mortal memory didn't allow me to recall all the details.

A silver jacket, a bow, a quiver.

— She was a Hunter of Artemis, right? — I asked, trying to remember. — Nico's sister, I suppose.

— Yes. — confirmed Percy, with a distraught look on his face. — We organized a quest to rescue Lady Artemis from the imprisonment that Atlas imposed her, if you recall. I went too, even if the others didn't know that at the beginning, and I promised Nico that I would protect his sister, at all costs. — He paused. — I didn't succeed. Bianca sacrificed herself to save us all, dying because of one of Hephaestus' automatons, and when I returned to Camp... I had to face Nico. It didn't go well. He doesn't hate me for that anymore, but I still feel guilty, even if I know that there wasn't much that I could do.

My heart clenched painfully.

I thought about the fate of this young girl, about her great courage and her enormous sacrifice. She was so young, but she already became a hero. I admired her, and got sad at the same time, because she chose to give up the precious gift she had just received - a great and never-ending life - for something that she considered to be even more precious: her friends.

It wasn't difficult for me to imagine what Nico must have felt. When Artemis disappeared, I freaked out and almost destroyed all Olympus to find a way to help her. I didn't know what I could have done if something happened to her - yes, maybe the gods are immortal, but that doesn't mean they're indestructible.

— I... — I stammered, without any idea of what to say. — I'm sorry.

— Yeah, I am too, but that's not why I told you this. — he declared, sighing. — Point is, you will never know how it could have ended if you acted in another way. And maybe you'll never stop asking yourself that, maybe even after many years it will come back to torment you, to consume you, and you won't be able to do anything to put a stop to it. And it's okay, because maybe... well, maybe if you continue to think about it that means you're a good person. That's a little comfort.

— Yet does it have to be like that for everything you do? — I asked, leaning against the wall.

— It's part of human nature. — replied Percy, shrugging. — Besides the advantages, you also get the scam. A universal rip-off.

I rested my head on my arms again.

— Holy cows, what a life. — I grumbled, in disapproval, blowing a strand of hair out of my face. — However, now that I think about it, the lives of gods and mortals aren't even that different. Even though you, at least, have some idea of how to behave yourselves. We, on the other hand, are all incompetents and we're unable to handle our emotions.

— Oh, di immortales... this universe is run by emotionally unstable people. — murmured Percy, shaking his head with a grin, and I busted out laughing, with my heart lighter than how it was during all these months.

Minutes passed. I enjoyed the warm breeze of may, in silence, while listening to the soft rustle of the trees.

Then I spoke again. — I'm sorry.

Percy looked at me, with a doubtful stare. — For what?

I did a vague gest. — For everything. I caused you too many problems in these months. — I laughed nervously, but my laughter died after a couple of seconds. — Maybe even more problems than I caused you when I was a god.

Percy shook his head, with a smile. — Oh, no, believe me that now it's far better. It's better to have a mortal teenager with a hormonal crisis than an immortal and powerful being with a hormonal crisis.

I grinned, amused. — You know, that's a perfect description for Zeus. — I commented, as the sky thundered.

I looked up, with a scowl.

— You hear us now, huh? — I mumbled. — Amathés...

We stayed silent for a minute. — I know that, well- that maybe some things won't be fixed immediately, and that some won't ever fix themselves, but I'm really sorry, Percy. Even for what happened before. You were right about the gods. We- we remained silent for too long, and we caused too many disasters. We weren't careful enough, we were too egoistic. I'm really sorry.

Percy shook his head, with his face twisted in an upset expression. — I exaggerated. I shouldn't have yelled like that, and there are some things that I said which, right now, I regret saying. Especially after, well...

He gestured at my chest.

I pursed my lips, lifting my eyes towards the sky. — Did I benefit someone, maybe, impaling myself with an arrow? I can't say that I didn't have at least a little role in Jason's death. Also, — I smiled, like I was amused by something, as bitterness filled my throat. — it's not like I can console myself with the thought that I acted without genuinely thinking of what would happen to me afterwards. Like a coward, I hoped that Medea would heal me. I hoped that with all my heart. So don't be sorry for what you said - your words shouldn't lose their meaning because of my act. They were fair.

— And was it fair to almost kill you? — asked Percy, with his eyes narrowed. I got caught off guard, because I didn't know he acknowledged the fact that he shook up my whole cardiovascular system, and I had decided not to tell him. I tried to say that it wasn't a big deal (even though, sacred Moirai, I still needed an aspirin), but he didn't give me time to talk. — No, that's- this power is messed up. It's not... I mean, I knew that I could do it with poison. I- I used it against Akhlys, once, in Tartarus, and it was horrible even then. — I could remember that detail, I remembered something about him and Annabeth falling in Tartarus. It's not a nice place, and it frightens even the gods. I couldn't imagine how much an experience like that could be traumatizing for mortals. I shivered. — I didn't think that I- that I could do it with blood. And I had hoped that I would never discover that.

— It's something that goes beyond your control. — I reassured him. — It's not your fault, Percy.

He looked at me for a bit, in silence, as if he was agreeing with I had just said. Then he turned his eyes away. — Then don't tell me that Jason's death is on you. — he said, and I cursed internally. Damned mortals, using my logic against me, I thought. — Now that I know how it went, I also know that everyone has had their piece of glory, in exchange for a sacrifice. So leave to Jason the responsibility of his sacrifice, and recognize yours.

It seemed to me that he was crying, because his cheeks seemed to be wet. However, I didn't point that out, and instead I laid a hand on his back, in a reassuring way.

We didn't talk, listening instead to the voice of the wind.

— Jason asked me something, before we even started that quest. — I confessed. I felt tears well up in my eyes just remembering it. Percy looked at me, curious, as we both got up. — He asked me... he asked me to remember what it's like to be human. The last two times my father punished me, I didn't really dwell on that aspect, to be honest. Maybe because I still had some of my powers, back then. But now? — I held up my hands. — With all that happened, with all that you said before, I can't ignore the many mistakes that the gods made. Actually, I realized that... well, we suck, emphatically speaking. Not all of us, but most. Including myself.

I heard a clap of thunder, in the distance, but I ignored it.

— I'm not in the position to make promises, — I said, feeling a cold sensation on my skin, as if I was knee-deep in the waters of the river Styx. — but I do promise you that I will do my best to fix everything. Zeus will almost surely organize a council, at the end of all of this, and I'll start from there. Maybe it will take some time, yet sooner or later I'll make sure that no demigod will be left alone by their godly parents anymore. All the gods have to learn what I learned just now, and they have to understand that they have to be better parents, if they want to keep having relationships with mortals. Take responsibility. — I paused. — There'll be a lot of stuff to do, but... well, mortals can change. So I guess that we can too.

Percy stood silent, as if he was thinking. Then he smiled. — I really hope that you'll succeed. Maybe having someone on our side in the Olympian Council really could change things. — He took a few steps forward, getting ahead of me. — I guess that we should go. The other will be worried sick by now. And you still have to tell us what happened afterwards. After...

Percy stopped talking, and sighed. — Yeah. I'll see you there. He was just about to leave again, when suddenly he seemed to remember something, turning back to face me. — Oh, and Apollo? — His lips stretched in a smile. — I was wrong. You did change. Then, he proceeded to go back to the Principia, leaving me alone in the stables. Maybe the conversation I had with Percy wasn't the type of interaction I expected to have. No hero in shining armor appeared, ready to give me a pat on the back and cast away all my problems with a single word - trust me, such heroes did exist, once: Hector, for example, would have been a great psychologist, if only he hadn't been dead. And if only such a career path had existed in ancient times. Man, what a great guy he was.

And maybe... maybe I hadn't been the type of support that Percy looked for either, but personally, I think that those words that I shared with the son of Poseidon had been way better than anything we could have told each other.

I remembered the interaction I had with Piper, that day, on Caligula's yacht. Then I remembered how Thalia refused to look at me and to talk to me after I told her about her brother. What had been different, those times?

I had lost hope, after that. No matter how hard I tried, I always let down everyone I came across, every friend, every familiar, bound to bring only sorrow in the lives of others, with my hands still red from blood that wasn't mine.

However, for the first time in who knows how long, I was hopeful. I could still heal the wounds that we, gods, caused to our children, to everyone. That I caused.

I stroked the pegasus, while she was angrily neighing at me because, after all, she didn't get her treat. Then I left the stables too, while a soft gust of wind kissed my skin. The moon was shining bright between the stars.

I would laugh in the face of Styx, because if there was a promise that I would keep it would surely be this one.

And she certainly couldn't stop me.

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