Flowergirl, Percy Jackson

011. Fallen Stars

       011───────ஐ〰ฺ･:*:･✿fallen stars

      LUKE CASTELLAN (years ago, before he'd been exposed as a traitor) once asked Lila and Annabeth what the worst way to die was. Lila remembers that at the time, she had thought it a rather morbid question, especially from Luke, who had never so much as bared his gold-plated teeth at another demigod before. But, thinking back, Lila figures he only wanted to know what would be the worst kind of torture for them both. Whether they'd find it worse to starve to death or to be slaughtered mercilessly by a hoard of Cyclopes. Luke really was a jerk. 

      Annabeth had said water, which had ended up ironic considering her close friendship with a son of Poseidon, of all people. Lila had laughed that off, and told her fire was more terrible. Burning alive was worse, right?

       Well, years later, Lila figures the gods are mocking her, the Fates pulling their silver string with a wicked smile. It has to be fate that she'd end up drowning in a volcano, of all places. Lila had secretly been terrified she'd die in the lava spewing from it. It ended up that she drowned in the water. (Lila's still not sure how she managed to die, but not die. She's just going with it, for now, she supposes. She'll see how it goes.) 

       Perhaps it was Posiedon, mocking her for underestimating just how dangerous the water could be. Maybe she really did deserve to drown. It really does feel as though the gods are laughing in her face.

        They had all just watched while she died. Hecate, Hera, whoever else was keeping an eye on Lila. They had seen her drown and sink, seen water fill her lungs and air evade her grasp, and they had let it happen. And now whenever she tries to close her eyes, all she can see is the pitch black of that soul-crushing weight, the water forcing itself down her throat. 

The gods don't care about us, Luke had warned. 

        Lila never considered it before, but he does have a point. 

      ONE NIGHT, Lila finds herself lying on the ground outside the cabins. Not for any particular reason — she just woke up at two am, and thought that it was a good idea. In hindsight, her clothes are now slightly dusty, and her hair is a mess, tangled and interwoven with random strands of grass. But the stars are beautiful tonight, thousands, billions of cataclysmic explosions thousands of miles away, distant to everything. It's almost comforting to see them flicker — to know that there's probably some life out there, and they wouldn't have to worry about any of the problems Lila finds herself grappling with. Her problems are inconsequential enough that the stars above remain untouched. 

      Those stars make up constellations of the worst Greek myths. Zoe Nightshade is up there, somewhere, though Lila's never been good at spotting the patterns. Maybe one day Lila might find herself there too. Lila doubts that, though — she's probably never going to do anything interesting enough to equate to a constellation. Perhaps Annabeth or Percy though.

      "Li?" A familiar voice drifts through the shadow of the other cabins, and Lila jumps a little, though she doesn't move from the ground. Shadow falls over her face as the silhouette blocks out the moon for a second, before dropping down to lie beside Lila. "What are you doing?"

     Lila gives the barest of shrugs, playing with the grass beneath her hand, a daisy worming itself beneath her fingertips. "Just watching the stars."

     Silena shifts closer, placing a trembling hand on Lila's arm. "I've always loved them. It's like we're looking back in time, you know."

      Lila does not know. "What do you mean?"