End of the Line

#6 - Thessaloniki

Chapter 6 - Thessaloniki
published: Wednesday, 9 January 2019

Jason dreamt that he was having a Roman feast dinner with the Fifth Cohort.

"Really brought us to glory," Dakota declared, beaming from ear to ear. His goblet was filled with Kool-Aid, his favourite drink, which stained his lips with telltale marks of red.

Gwen nudged Jason in the side. "The first one of us to make praetor."

Jason blushed at the compliments. "Really, guys, I did what any good Roman would've done."

"You're being modest," Dakota insisted. "You led us to victory at Mount Tamalpais; you're the reason that the Titan stronghold crumbled!"

"Reyna was amazing too," Jason argued.

"Yes, of course, but she isn't a Fifth Cohort centurion," Dakota pointed out. "She didn't start out in the lousiest group of us all."

Jason slung an arm across Dakota's shoulders. "I don't care what people say about us. You guys are the best cohort I could ask for."

"To Jason!" Bobby cheered.

"To Jason!" the Fifth Cohort echoed.

Jason had never felt happier. He swelled with pride, and happiness, and belonging. His friends–no, his family, surrounded him.

Jason raised his goblet, obliging to the cheers, and took a sip. When he removed the goblet from his lips, a cold shiver ran down Jason's spine.

He'd spilt the drink all over his fingers. Red ran between his fingers and across his hands like an endless waterfall. 

"Guys, I need a napkin—"

Jason looked up and saw Dakota lying on a ruined feast table, a sword sticking grotesquely out of his gut. Blood ran out of the corner of his mouth and his eyes were glassy.

Jason stumbled off his chair, the scraping sound deafening in the silent hall.

The entire Fifth Cohort lay dead, bodies sprawled across the now empty table, smashed plates and glass shards scattered about.

Gwen, with an arrow impaled in her windpipe, and countless of Jason's friends fallen. Dead.

"No," Jason stared at his red-stained hands in horror. His mutters turned into cries. "No!"

Everywhere he turned, bodies lay still.

Reyna's crumpled figure on the carpet, her blood staining the fur. Her praetor's cloak lying in a torn pile.

The scene flashed again, and now, Camp Half-Blood lay burning and smouldering. Flames ravaged the hills and the greenery had all been reduced to ashes or shrivelled plants.

Bodies littered Half-Blood Hill; the bodies of his friends. Chiron, Frank, Hazel, Annabeth. Names ran through Jason's mind as he backed up, refusing to believe the sight before his eyes.

"No!" Jason shouted. His voice echoed across the empty valley.

Jason tripped over something behind him, and he fell to the ground. Leo's body lay completely still, and Percy's limp figure was scrunched up next to him.

Jason frantically scrambled to stand up, he backed away from the dead bodies, deliriously shaking his head. "No, no, no," he murmured.

"Jason," a soothing voice called to him.

Jason turned desperately.

Piper was under a tree, kneeling down and staring at the ground.

"Pipes," Jason nearly sobbed. He rushed to her and sank to his knees in front of her.