Goodnight Moon ↣ P. Jackson + A. Chase

1.11

The irony of seeing things in hindsight was that it was usually too late to fix your mistakes, that it was something that came around and bit you in the ass, and you were to remain bitterly searching for a way out. 

For demigods, there were many things that they came to regret in their actions, many moments that they wish they could have changed, little things that they would have done differently, whether it be to prevent death, an injury, a scar, or to prevent a moment from existing altogether. 

Kassandra regrets many things in her debatably short life (debatable because she was a demigod and where she exist, another could take her place, fill her role in the world with the amount of them wondering around that were and weren't claimed, child of the twelve Olympians or not; she was expendable, replaceable, and forgettable) but letting that cyclops live was turning out to be one of the worst not because she was afraid or in danger, but because she was so tired of his shit that could have been over with if Percy hadn't pleaded with sad eyes. 

(There were moments of stupidity as well, times of sheer, utter stupidity, that had her make one wrong choice, one misstep that had saved her life, sure, but had cost her the life of another, a friend that had taken the attack clean through with no hope of healing no matter how much she had prayed and sung over the body. 

Ariel was the daughter of one of the muses, Thalia, and had been thrilled to actually join RNYAPA in the dance track. She was a dancer excelling in ballet and tap, and while Kassandra had been wary at first of having two demigods so close in the same school, the girl had talked her down enough for them to become friends. The best of friends. 

Hindsight would show that how fickle it was, how you couldn't change the simple mistakes that came upon you.

 As they had been cornered in an alley and while Kassandra had jumped to defend them, Ariel couldn't all that well. She had no special powers that could help her apart from her ADHD. The sole Scythian dracaena had proven too much for her at twelve. 

She had learnt a valuable lesson that day about hindsight.) 

And so that was maybe why an arrow was strung before he had taken more than five steps towards them with his stupid rocks raised into the air -- she did not forget the way that one had smashed above her head, how the pieces had showered onto her and scratched her skin to bits leaving her thankful for the ambrosia that she had taken to ease the ache that her body, specifically her head from being beaten by ridiculously large hands, had been left with. 

"Not another step, ugly," she spits, looking him over. "I should have kicked you in the head. Maybe you would have stayed down longer." 

Percy lays a hand on her arm, urging her silently to ease her grip and draw back the arrow as he held out his sword before him.

"Get to the boat," he tells them, stepping out before her. "We'll take care of this and meet you there." 

"Percy..." she says cautiously, glancing to Clarisse as she took to the water with Annabeth on her back and the cyclops that had his attention pinned fiercely on Tyson. 

He grips her arm a little tighter as silent reassurance. "Do you trust me?" 

Breathing deeply, she drops her ready position of the bow and arrow, backing up. "Yes," she answers honestly. "I trust you." 

He steps forward, swinging his sword as he stands next to his brother, facing Polyphemus head-on. 

Shaking her head, Kassandra shoves the arrow back into the quiver and her bow around her shoulders as she takes to the sea, diving beneath the cold waves that send a shock of awareness down her spine like jumping into a cold shower first thing in the morning or an ice bath after a hard workout.