Trying Out for the Tennis Championships

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(Y/N)'s POV

He didn't remember the moment his life began to fall apart. The beginning, middle and end were so mixed up in his head that to him he was just...there. Of course, he would remember what he had experienced at that point, but that was it.

Even now, as he was weak, in the snow, with the shadowy witch cutting into him, taunting him by saying "This is what I made you. Powerless. Afraid. Human" he could only feel like she should have been mad at someone else.

He was nothing before he landed on those shores one day, guided by a voice that spurred him into the land of the living, or so he thought, until it all came crashing into him, the days the gates opened, and the day that shouldn't have come.

It was only as her claws ripped into him for the second time that he began to remember the order of his life. He finally felt like his eyes were opened, that the river his memories were swimming in had finally become clear.

Finally, he rose above the surface and caught his breath. And just for a few moments, painful, horrible moments, he felt like he knew who he was, truly and completely, he knew where he came from and why, and with that pain, came understanding.

For a moment, he felt whole, and he knew why. In a way, his two halves were connected. By the same pain, the same enemy, the same way they were about to die, and with the feeling of pain, also came memories. But what else was new?

His first memories, waking up to the sound of the goddess guiding him, telling him that he had to save her family, as payment for something that happened years ago, and he knew that he had a part to play in whatever the fates had cooked up for the world of demigods next.

He didn't remember the instructions he was given, because they weren't his to remember, it was the one the witch often referred to as 'the other' (Y/N). Before any of this, the one Hera wanted, not the one she got.

As for the (Y/N) left behind now, he remembered the moments he first ventured into this world. Only because of the blood that filled his throat now, and it's horrible sensation, being so familiar to him.

Waking up with the taste of dirt in your mouth is not pleasant, even if you were one of those weird kids in elementary school who took pleasure in eating it. Which for the record, (Y/N) was not...he didn't even really go to elementary school.

The panic one feels is nearly indescribable without using the vaguest terms. For now, lets just say, it was scary. It wasn't something so easily forgotten, even by someone with memory as terrible as (Y/N)'s.

What made it ten times scarier were the eyes glaring down at him the moment he came to, not curious ones, like when he was trying to escape, but hateful, evil ones. They stared through him, green, emerald eyes that seemed to radiate not only the malice he felt on him, but power.

He cautiously raised his eyes to look up at the woman, who he now knew to be a witch. She spoke before he did, her face widening in a smile that was so pleasant, it was unsettling. "So, you too have chosen to come back. Excellent choice my dear. Excellent choice."

"What are you talking about?" (Y/N) said. After he was done spitting out dirt that was. He looked around, to take in his surroundings. The adjusted to the dim light in less than a second, he saw the world clearly. The pitch black sky around him, and the deep red slate rock beneath his feet didn't panic him as much as he thought they probably should have.

"There are those beautiful eyes of yours..." The woman said, studying him like he was a piece of meat. There was a growl beside her. (Y/N) snapped his head to the noise, and saw a man standing beside her, though perhaps (Y/N)'s memory wasn't very good, because all (Y/N) could remember were the man's glowing red eyes.

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