The Winged Warrior

Chapter 4

Percy's POV

That day went past pretty fast. It was a mixture of talking to Adalind about my past and walking through camp, seeing the difference.

I got a huge shock when I walked through to the clearing in the forest. It was where I had been betrayed by Annabeth, and found Nico's dead body. It hadn't changed one bit, and I could still see faint bloodstains on the hard ground. When I saw it I was immediately enveloped by a huge rush of terrible memories, and I swayed, tears brimming in my eyes from under my hood. What was I doing?

I was standing in the middle of the clearing where so much had happened, with tears pouring down my face as though it was yesterday. Why had I come here? Had I thought I was over it? Heck, no one could even see my face! They all thought of me as a nameless, faceless warrior, tough as steel, emotionless?

They had no idea.

I swayed again, and Adalind placed her wing my my side, pushing me upright, while her eyes turned to her own body. She was a very dark blue, almost black.

"Something is distressing you, Percy." She said in my mind.

"It's nothing." I replied quickly. "And please, call me Ash."

"But why? Percy Jackson is your birth name, is it not?"

I smiled sadly. "Yes, Adalind. But that name holds too many memories."

She gave me a piercing look for a second, before she nodded her head to the side in a questioning way.

She might as well know. We were companions now, after all.

I summoned those poisoned memories in my mind, as well as all the explainations that Aether had told me, and sent them to Adalind.

She shivered for a moment, before a look of absolute detestation crossed her face, and she took off. It took me a second to realise she was heading straight for the Athena cabin.

"Adalind! No!" I yelled out loud, before doing the same in my head. But she didn't pay the slightest attention, instead soaring towards the centre of camp, a huge ball of pure rage.

I sighed and spread my wings to their fullest extent before taking off, and my huge wingspan soon allowed my to catch up as the wind carried me to her side.

"Please, Adalind! Hurting someone will only make it worse! Don't you think it might blow our cover if you randomly start attacking people because of what they did? They don't know who I am!"

"Fine, but only for you. Otherwise I would've ripped her throat out."

I had no trouble at all in guessing who 'her' was.

However, it looked like Adalind had spotted something. She dived suddenly, and landed in a small area just off the main part of camp.

"Who is that?" she asked me.

I followed her gaze, and gasped. In front of me was a beautifully carved marble statue at least five metres high, standing on a pedestal. And the face was undeniable.

Me.

I stood in what had been my usual laid back position, riptide held loosely at my side, a foolish grin on my face. I didn't have my wings, but I did have a light in my eyes that I had lost all those years ago. It was a humourous, glinting light that I wished with all my heart was still there.

At the base of the pedestal were the words;

In memory of Percy Jackson, the greatest hero this camp has ever known. It was our foolishness and stupidity that drove him away, and we still pay the unending price. He died for the wrong cause.