You Promised, Annabeth

Confliction

Weeks had passed since the tragic loss of Jason Grace, and the camp was still shrouded in a heavy veil of mourning. The familiar sounds of laughter and camaraderie that once echoed through the training grounds now seemed distant, almost foreign. The skies above Camp Half-Blood had lost their usual vibrancy, mirroring the somber mood that had enveloped its inhabitants.

However, slowly but surely, life was beginning to regain some semblance of normalcy. Campers practiced their combat skills, tended to the stables, and shared stories around campfires once again. Chiron's voice rang out, directing the archery practice, and the clang of swords meeting shields echoed across the arena. Yet, despite these efforts to move forward, one figure struggled to find his footing.

Percy Jackson, usually at the heart of camp activities, stood by the shoreline, staring out at the horizon. The waves crashed against the shore, their rhythmic cadence offering a stark contrast to the turmoil that churned within him. He had tried to reintegrate into the routines, to rekindle the fire that had always burned bright in his heart, but something remained amiss.

Sure, many of his friends had died in the past, leaving Percy to mourn for their deaths. But eventually, he moved on. He had to, anyway. Jason's death shouldn't have been any different. However, it just... was. He tried falling back into routine, but Percy's attempts to fit right in felt like forcing a jigsaw piece into the wrong spot – it just didn't click. A restless energy tugged at his heart, an unyielding reminder of the injustice that had robbed them of Jason's light.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a cascade of colors across the sky, Percy's thoughts drifted back to the friend he had lost. He recalled the times they fought; enemies turned into comrade-in-arms; he had been a kindred spirit, a brother of the sword, and a beacon of unwavering optimism. He remembered the playful jabs they exchanged during training, the friendly banter that had masked a fierce determination to surpass each other. It was a friendship forged through shared battles and mutual respect, but also through unspoken rivalry that had driven them to be the best versions of themselves. And as much as he wouldn't have admitted it when Jason was alive, Percy had always recognized the spark of greatness that burned within the demigod.

It wasn't just the divine lineage that set Jason apart, it was the unwavering integrity that radiated from him, the way he carried himself with a regal air that never felt forced. Jason embodied the qualities of a true hero – selflessness, courage, and an unyielding commitment to doing what was right, even when the odds were stacked against them. While Percy often relied on his instincts and spontaneity, Jason's careful consideration and strategic thinking had saved them on numerous occasions. It was a partnership that had been shaped by the contrast of their approaches, a perfect blend of water and wind. But more than anything, Percy admired the humility with which Jason bore his own remarkable abilities. Despite being the "golden boy," he never flaunted his powers or achievements. There was a quiet strength to him, an understanding that being a hero wasn't about recognition, but about the impact one could make on the world.

As Percy's thoughts continued to linger on the memory of Jason Grace, a complex mix of emotions churned within him. The waves crashing against the shore seemed to mirror the turbulent sea of feelings that roiled within his heart. Anger, a raw and powerful emotion, began to rise like a tempest, fueled by the unspoken thoughts that had always haunted him.

His lips tightened into a thin line as he admitted to himself what he had often refused to acknowledge when Jason was alive. The golden aura that had surrounded Jason, the hero's charisma and unwavering sense of duty, had often left Percy feeling overshadowed. He clenched his fists, a surge of bitterness welling up within him, fueled by the realization that he had always seen Jason as the better of the two. The anger was as unexpected as it was overwhelming. Percy had lost friends before, faced countless battles and unimaginable odds, but the death of Jason had struck a particularly painful chord. The unfairness of it gnawed at him – why was it that the gods had intervened to save Thalia Grace, and yet Jason had been taken away without a chance of a second life?

Sure, he could place it all down to the doing of the fates.

But it was about time the gods began to take some accountability.

He paced along the shoreline, his steps matching the turmoil in his mind. The frustration he felt was a storm that he couldn't control, a tempest that threatened to consume him. The heavens themselves seemed to mirror his mood, with dark clouds gathering overhead, obscuring the sky.

Percy clenched his fists tighter, the sand beneath his feet shifting as he struggled to process his emotions. A part of him resented the gods, resented Jupiter for not sparing Jason in the same way he had saved Thalia. The anger was irrational, he knew that, but it was a visceral reaction to the pain of losing someone who had felt like a brother. He looked out at the roiling sea, his eyes reflecting the turmoil within. It wasn't fair. That thought echoed like a mantra, a bitter refrain that seemed to reverberate in the very air around him. He wished he could confront the gods, demand answers for the injustices they allowed to happen. He wished he could shout at the heavens and challenge the powers that seemed so indifferent to the suffering of mortals.

Yet, as the anger surged within him, so did a determination. He wouldn't let Jason's death be in vain. If the gods wouldn't answer for their actions, then he would find a way to make them pay, to challenge the very order that had allowed such heartache to exist. The anger transformed into a driving force, propelling him forward with a renewed purpose.

The storm clouds above seemed to mirror Percy's resolve, the air charged with an electric energy. He would honor Jason's memory, not just as the golden demigod, but as a beacon of hope that would guide him on the path of vengeance and justice. The waves crashed against the shore with a newfound intensity, echoing the determination that had ignited within Percy's heart.

But as quickly as this resolve and determination came, it left in a fleeting moment. Percy collapsed to his knees, staring off into the shoreline. The gods were horrible. They had no regard for their children as it showed time and time again throughout his years. Yet his profound loyalty and love for his family struck a chord in him. Regret and guilt gnawed at his heart once again. How could he ever think of taking revenge on the gods? An image of Luke flashed in mind; the intense anger and despair behind his eyes as he died.

Percy would not go down that path.

He got up, dusting his pants from the prickly sand. He wasn't ready to let go of his grief, not yet, but he would try to channel it into something greater than himself.