violent delights, percy jackson

chapter thirteen

VIOLENT DELIGHTS
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( chapter thirteen! )

IT SEEMS ONLY FITTING that Azalea would have a rotten sleep after quarreling with Lee. Truthfully, the dirty blonde haired girl hated fighting with her half siblings, even if they did get in arguments a lot. Perhaps that was why she had such a horrible time trying to fall asleep, only then to have an even worse dream ( morpheus persuaded encounter? ) with the Titan Lord Kronos.

The placement was different, however. Instead of a shiny and foreboding throne room ( with no one insight on the cracked marble floors ), or on the edge of a dark, deep and blackened pit. Azalea found herself back on the Princess Andromeda and not in a good way either. She was in one of the off-limits bunkers below, with the windows open showing the moon glimmering like a glowing jewel on the choppy currents. Though despite the beautiful scenery, the cold wind that rustled through the velvet drapes left azalea with goosebumps running up and down her arms and spine. She shouldn't be here.

Luke was there as well, though likely in person rather than her dream self, kneeling on a Persian rug in front of a coffin. The coffin itself is what bothered Azalea the most, despite having been one of the demigods lending a hand to its boarding with Luke and making sure the monsters paced it properly in the room. Since it's delivery she had never seen it, but now it looked much more surreal. Golden and etched with stone carvings on the Titan lords own backstory and how he rose and fell from power. Azalea could barely make out Zeus marred features as he sliced his father to bits.

Once the blonde girl had tore her eyes form the coffin she finally took into account, Luke's own features. He looked much worse than she had saw him last. With his shortly cut hair resembling strands of white in the moonlight from the open windows. He wasn't in his usual wardrobe of denim jeans or a plain shirt either, but full Grecian attire. That to which Azalea presumed only the gods both minor and major themselves ever wore out. It was unsettling how well the robes fit and the way the dark cape of blood red fell so perfectly from his shoulders to his ankles, where it piled around his kneeled back. Despite this the puppet of Kronos looked much healthier than he had before Azalea couldn't help but think something was off. He looked too healthy if that were possible.

"Our spies report success, my lord," Luke said stonily. No emotion at all in his bland tone. "Camp Half-Blood is sending a quest, as you predicted. Our side of the bargain is almost complete."

Azalea was shocked by this. He used plural in his statement. Meaning not one but more spies were at the camp then just herself. Azalea felt her stomach burn with white hot anger. What was the point of her charade if she wasn't the only one there. Luke had stated that he didn't have any spies there and that was why she was needed. What was the blonde boy playing at?

'Excellent.' Azaleas entirely body felt a side it had been paralyzed in its place. She had never heard the Titan Lord speak, in person or in dreams and it was terrifying. It was like the blade of a dagger, cold and cruel as it pierced her eardrums. Being struck by lightning, setting her insides on fire and then getting dumped over the head with a freezing vault of ice water. 'Once we have the means to navigate, I will lead the vanguard through myself.'

Luke seemed pained by his reply. His eyes closing for a second, as the moon caught his scare in the low light and illuminated its marred and silver appearance. A long time ago, Ethan had told her that it had originally been an angry red of scar tissue but as he got olde rot faded to a Paul white with pink edges form badly healed skin.