A Moment of Stars | PJO Chaos

Fifteen

At this point, Percy's just questioning why the Fates wrote his life this way.

He's tired, he's confused, and most of all: he's pissed.

How does a demigod like him get into situations like these? It hurts his head to even think about it. Not even the most unfortunate demigod he knew was forced into things like intergalactic genocides by unidentified foes.

He wants to go home. To find rest on his own bed at the Poseidon Cabin. He wants to teach the kids swordplay and babysit Estelle on the weekends. To hang with Piper, Jason, and Nico and Will even if he's in the worst mood.

He wants Annabeth.

Flashes of her smile fills his mind. The image of the picture frame he cherished so much makes Percy sigh in defeat. He misses her so much.

If he died outside of the Milky Way, would his soul find its way back to her? He doesn't know, but it's a guarantee he wouldn't want to find out. Shaking himself from his depressed mental train, he looks up.

Elara sits silently at the other side of the underground cavern area, still staring into space as if she were deep into thought. Percy watches as she tucks her knees under her chin and let her wings curl around her like a protective blanket.

He knows there's more to the story of her "death," but he doesn't want to ask questions to trigger anything. It's as if she's a completely different person from the strict commander she'd been. Without the slight stone scowl etched into her face, it's obvious she's his age, if not younger. Her crown of curls are ruffled and disordered from its usual state, and her uniform has tears at the knees and is completely torn at the arms like his own.

The silence progresses, but they still make no move to do anything. The only sound that echoed throughout the cavern was the lake, which lapped at the edge of the dry ground.

He looks around to reassess their surroundings. Golden feathers are still scattered here and there, and it seems that one of their wrist bands were activated, so one of the backpacks' contents are spread throughout the area.

He silently gets up and taps his wristband. The black backpack appears in his hands, and he starts to pick up the objects and place them into it. A glint catches his eyes, and he turns to see what it is.

It was Elara's sword at the very edge of the water and land—it's golden aura drawing him in like a mother's embrace.

Thinking nothing of it, he makes his way towards the blade. He'll dry it off and give it to the commander to put away. He crouched down in front of it; warmth spreads throughout his body as he reaches towards it.

"Wait—PERSEUS, NO!" Elara's shrill scream of terror pierces his ears as his hand wraps around the pitch black hilt of the golden sword.

"Wha—" he turns to ask what was wrong.

Then it happened.

Golden light flashes through Percy's vision as he stumbles forward, the sword still gripped in his hands. A searing pain cuts through his mind like sharpened glass as he crumbles to his knees.

He can't let the sword go, it's as if it were glued to his hands. The warmth he felt before turns into scalding heat that shoots through his very soul. Elara's scream fades into nothingness as he falls into another world.