14Chapter IX: How To Save A Life
It seemed cliche but Annabeth decided that skipping rocks was a productive way to waste time.
The pebble she threw sunk, much to her dismay. And so did the next one. And the next one. And the next one.
Everyone else had fallen asleep while she decided to stay up. Her laptop was still wet from the unexpected dip they took and she was hoping that nothing too permanent would hurt her precious laptop. It had all of Daedalus' work and she wouldn't forgive herself if she lost them.
Annabeth fiddled with the obsidian rock before tossing it. It sunk. Maybe she wasn't throwing it right… She picked up the next rock, and turned it over… only to be welcomed by a spider.
She squealed (like an Aphrodite girl) and instinctively dropped the rock. Just to be safe, she kicked it away, into the water where it sank with a plunk.
She could fight a hydra, a gryphon, a chimera but a spider? She'd rather drink soup from the toilet.
Once her breathing slowed down, Annabeth heard footsteps—hooves, actually—behind her. She didn't bother turning around.
"Yes, Coach?" she asked.
Coach Hedge cleared his throat. He went straight to the point, as always. That's what she liked about the satyr, he was straightforward about everything even if he had an annoying way of showing it.
"It's about Johnathan," Coach said gruffly. Annabeth furrowed her eyebrows. "I know you've felt strange about the guy," he continued. "He is a demigod but there's just something wrong about him."
Annabeth nodded. "Do you have any idea what he's hiding?"
Coach took off his cap to scratch his head. "He's got that thing Percy has."
You mean to tell me that Johnathan has the ability to annoy people? Annabeth wanted to ask. What gave you that idea? She thought sarcastically.
"He's got an empathy link with someone," Coach stated.
That caught Annabeth by surprise. "That's it?" she asked.
Coach huffed indignantly. "What do you mean 'that's it'? What if he's a spy?"
"I doubt that whatever satyr that's connected with him has any intention of harming us," she said dismissively.
"I hope your right," Coach said, unconvinced. "Jackson, what're you doing up?"
Annabeth's stomach churned as she turned around to see Percy approaching them. His hands were shoved in his pocket, and his hair brushed off his forehead. Annabeth was still mad at him when she saw Calypso kissing him. Even if it was just on the cheek, and that he didn't kiss her back, it still infuriated her. Even now, thinking of the immortal, her chest heated up in envy.
"I need to talk to Annabeth," Percy said softly then he added, "privately."
Coach huffed. "Don't take too long." When Hedge turned to leave, he pointed two fingers at his eye then at Percy, before leaving. Annabeth hoped that Coach wasn't really watching them, and waited for his steps to recede before she spoke.
"What's up?" asked Annabeth, facing him.
"Your starting to grow paranoid," Percy said. "You know that, right?"
"Am not," she huffed. "Why would you say that?"
Percy shrugged, further angering Annabeth. "Well, you think that we shouldn't see Cosmos statue because we've lost a couple of campers."
"Oh, so you think we should continue and then watch as more of our allies burn to a crisp?" Annabeth snapped.
"It's not that," Percy retorted. "This just feels important. When I had gone missing, you went out of your mind just looking for me."
"That was different," said Annabeth, her cheeks blushing at the memory. "We're looking for someone who probably doesn't want to be found."
"How do you know that?"
"Percy," Annabeth prompted. There was no reasoning with this boy, she thought, running a hand through her hair. "If we keep going further into this, who else will we lose? And what will we gain from looking at some statue? How will that help us with the prophecy? How will finding Cosmos help us win this war?"
Percy raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Some statue? Aren't you supposed to be interested in this kind of stuff?"
Annabeth's nose scrunched up. "Not the point."
"More than one god has taken an interest in Cosmos," Percy argued. "We've had dreams about her, and no one really knows her background."
"This doesn't excuse the fact that we should be risking our necks!"
"Since when haven't we've been doing that?" Percy yelled back. "With great victory comes great—"
"Because of you, three people died!" Annabeth yelled, her emotions completely taking over. "It was your choice to come here! And it's your fault that Tyson and Ella are gone! Don't tell me that your willing to sacrifice more so you can get what you want!"
She immediately regretted her words. But the damage was done, and as her anger dissolved, her effusive words even made her flinch. She wanted so bad to kick herself for putting the blame on her boyfriend. Going around and pointing fingers at each other wasn't going to solve anything.
Percy looked down, his eyes lost its usual luster and his shoulders sagged. "It's just," he started. Then he shook his head, and turned on his heel.
Annabeth didn't even try to consult him. Her eyes strained, tears starting to form but she wiped them away and with a heavy heart, followed Percy to get some sleep.
Annabeth's dream felt like a bomb had been thrown at her.
All around her, war waged in an ancient city which she immediately identified as Athens. She had no time to admire the architecture because 1) the sound of screams and swords clashing was kind of hard to ignore and 2) most of the buildings were destroyed anyway.
The morning sun rised over the horizon but the soldiers payed no mind to it. There were men in white armor with a strange black symbol enscribed on their shields and armor.
Annabeth watched as a man in his mid-thirties kill his enemies with a rapier. He was a blur of white and red, stabbing his adversaries while remaining unharmed. His blade pierced into the body of another soldier before turning around to impale the man who was about to hit him. He parried and striked, moving so fast that Annabeth couldn't process his every blow.
Whenever a soldier fell, black smoke poured from their bodies before they completely evaporated, leaving behind their ashes. No blood was spilled, only a blanket of ash covered the white floor.
Annabeth continued to watch with increasing curiosity. It soon dawned on her that these soldiers—the ones in white—were the Legendary Spartans. Their fighting styles were near perfect to the point where it made them invincible. They were also unnaturally tall, around seven feet; a trait that they received from their Spartan training. She began to analyze them, their fighting technique and etc. She might learn something.
The man she watched was growing tired, probably overwhelmed with the number of opponents. His strikes were slower and he stumbled whenever he rolled to evade someone's attack. He lost his grip on his sword, though this didn't faze him. A knife extracted from his sleeve, and he pushed it into the body of another soldier.
Then something terrible happened. The point of the sword found its way through the Spartan's chest. The man gasped, his hand automatically finding the point as the sword slipped out of his bleeding body.
"NO!"
The soldier who impaled the Spartan whipped around and was met with an arrow to the throat. Annabeth cringed and forced herself to look away. She focused on the archer and was genuinely surprised to see a woman. There was dirt on her face, with a streak of blood running down in the corner of her lip and her hair was in disarray. Her eyes were aquamarine, the color of the sea, except her right eye was blind.
The woman sprinted towards the fallen Spartan, her white toga billowing. Dark soldiers charged at her but she released an arrow and reloaded faster than lightning could strike. Annabeth's eyes widened as she realized that this woman had a Spartan symbol embroided on her arrow. That didn't make sense. Only men were allowed to be a Spartan but the history of them was so bleak that Annabeth found herself thinking otherwise.
The woman grabbed the man, his head on her lap as tears began streaming from her eyes. She cradled him, one hand supporting his head, and the other on his wound. Annabeth felt her heart grow heavier. The sunrise seemed darker rather than brightening.
"I can heal you," the woman sobbed. "Just hold on, all right. Your gonna make it."
The man coughed, spitting out blood. "No… No Cosmos," he coughed some more. "No one can keep me from death."
"I'm so sorry, Roberto," Cosmos said meekly.
Roberto's free hand reached up to stroke Cosmos face, his thumb tracing over her lips. Annabeth felt like a voyeur but her chest tightened at the tragic sight that was being presented to her.
"Cosmos…" Roberto said feebly. He sucked in a deep breath, his mouth forming into a weak smile. "Please smile. I—I want to die a happy man."
Another tear fell down Cosmos face. "How can you even say that?"
Roberto laughed but was interrupted as he coughed some more. Annabeth watched, her own eyes brimming with tears as the life in Roberto's eyes faded, a timeless smile plastered on his face.
Cosmos held his face, tears flowing down her cheeks. She sniffled, pressed her hand to Roberto's face and closed his eyes with shaky fingers. "Requiescat in pace," she muttered, pressing her forehead against his.
Then, Cosmos whole body flickered like the way a tv did when it was losing signal. Instead of a dark haired woman kneeling over a dead man, Annabeth saw a girl with bright blonde hair. The girl sobbed as she caressed the boy's black hair, the life in his sea green eyes fading into nothingness…
Annabeth woke up screaming.
Requiescat in pace means rest in peace in Latin.
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