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HE WAS SMILING. Whenever she saw him, he was smiling. She figured that was the best way to remember him, grinning as he waved wildly, almost hanging over the edge of the boat in his haste to remain as close as possible until the last possible moment. If he had a smile on his face, she could believe he was happy, that somewhere out in the world he was alive and smiling. Smiling with his big, dopey, lopsided grin he got from their father, back when he used to smile. No one smiled anymore, not outside of her dreams.

She reached for him across the docks, stretching towards the boat where his hand was reaching for her too. Their fingers brushed and she smiled at him, wide and genuine. She glanced up at him and saw his smile had dropped. His eyes were wide and distant, his mouth turned down in a sharp frown. His fingers brushed hers lightly, once, twice, before he lunged forward, grabbing her wrist and dragging them both down into the murky depths of the water below.

She struggled against his iron grip as they soundlessly hit the water, sinking below its depths. The water suffocated her gently, wrapping around them as if in a bubble as her limbs grew heavy. She attempted to yank her arm away to swim to the surface, but he held tight as he sank them deeper and deeper. Her screams came out as gurgles, pockets of air escaping around her. She couldn't breathe, as hard as she tried she just could not breathe. Her lungs burned and her mind began to grow weary. Everything was fading. Her vision started to blur as she glanced down at him once more.

"Don't leave me." He said and she somehow heard him, clear as day, "Don't you leave me here alone."

And she didn't.

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She used to wake up gasping for air, as if she had actually been drowning. She used to glance over to see if he was asleep in his usual spot across the room, snoring lightly as he curled up in a ball, muttering and smacking his lips every so often in that way that drove her insane. She used to sit up, bring her knees to her chest and breathe heavily, maybe for hours, until she was able to calm herself back down enough to fall back into a fitful sleep. She didn't do that anymore. Now, she would go back to sleep, plunging into the depths of another nightmare without so much as a deep breath.

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Three hundred and sixty two days had passed. Three hundred and sixty since she had cried for the first time. Three hundred since she stopped going to the docks every morning. Two hundred and fifty since she had stopped crying. Two hundred since she had stopped bringing up his name at home. Eighty six days since she had given up hope that he would ever return home. But no matter how many days passed, the ache in her heart never lessened, not even for a minute.

After a while, the sadness left her. She no longer felt saddened at the fact that her brother was dead, gone and never to return. Instead, it was replaced with a burning rage. Not towards him, but towards the idiot behind everything. Zeus. Of course, she had never met Zeus, only the 'chosen ones' did - though she doubted half the people that claimed they met him actually did. But she did not have to meet him to be able to hate him. Deeply.

It had been ten years since the first announcement of the 'Trials' and six since they had been put into action. They weren't even given a proper title, they were just known as 'The Trials'. Hermes, Zeus' son and half mortal - the reason why he was able to venture to Earth so freely and frequently - had appeared in most of the countries across the continents, spreading the word of 'The Trials' his father was conducting. It had taken the world by storm, with families sending their sons - often their sole providers - off for the chance of eternal glory. It was a bit barbaric, Alessa always thought, sending your only child towards almost certain doom for the slim chance at untold riches. But what did she know? She was only a woman after all.

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