Chapter 1: Prologue
Chapter Text
“Ugh!” Cass slammed the cabin door so hard the walls rattled.
No phone. No way to call Amelia. No way to yell at her from the speaker. She’d thought her mother would come for her soon, that Amelia’s promise of “just for a short while” meant something. But then the letter came.
It’s not the best time for you to come back. Eat well and take care.
Cass had ripped it in half before she finished reading.
Camp Half-Blood wasn’t home. It wasn’t even close. But she’d never had something to call home, not really, so maybe she was kind of biased. The Apollo cabin was already packed with golden-haired, bright-faced kids, and somehow the Hermes one looked worse. The idea that more would arrive in summer made her stomach twist.
Not being at home was weird, being around so many people was weird too, and now she even slept in the same room as eight other kids. She was used to being alone. Roshan tried to coddle her every opportunity he got and she snapped at him every time. They formed a routine, she gained her fame as a grumpy kid. Most found it funny, seeing a ten year old kid yelling at someone twice her size. Most left her alone, some in her cabin liked her despite it all.
She didn’t need them to like her though. She wasn’t sure she even wanted it. She’d spent ten years without friends, why should that change now?
Kids from other cabins looked at her as if she were about to make balloon figures, they tried to talk to her and stopped trying when she kicked one of them in the shin. She was the newest addition to camp for a few months. That changed just before summer arrived.
She heard the commotion first. There were some screams, the oldest and most experienced campers started running up the hill to the magic border. Cass felt that familiar tug in her gut and her blood went cold. The one that came when something was about to go very, very wrong. She could feel it. Suddenly she was filled with desperation and she stood up, intending to follow one of the campers from her own cabin.
Roshan grabbed her shoulders before she got too far. “Stay,” he said before rushing uphill himself. Needless to say she didn’t listen.
Cass ran as fast as her legs could take her, which was not much to be honest. A few minutes had passed when she finally got there, out of breath and grumbling at the thought that everyone else could probably do that in half that time. She considered sitting in the dirt for a while, just to catch her breath.
And then she saw it.
The sky above the hill was dark with storm clouds, even though the sun had been blazing a moment ago. Monsters swarmed the border; hellhounds, harpies, things she didn’t have names for. The ground was torn up, the grass smoking in patches. Older campers were fighting, shouting orders, blades flashing in the light. Cass froze, her chest heaving. She’d never seen anything like it.
Then she saw the girl.
Behind her ran an older boy and a little blonde girl, and a satyr limping on twisted hooves. They were so close, the border shimmered just a few feet ahead. Lightning cracked overhead. One of the Furies dove from the sky, shrieking. Its whip lashed out and the dark haired girl went down.
“No-!” someone shouted, but the word was lost under the thunder.
Cass stumbled forward, hands shaking, but her legs were stiff and didn’t respond. The others, the boy, the satyr and the child, crossed the glowing line into safety. The dark-haired girl stayed on the ground and didn’t move.
The sky roared. For a heartbeat, everything glowed white. When Cass blinked the light away, the monsters were gone. The girl was gone. In her place stood a tree, a giant pine tree. Tall, silent, its leaves trembling in the wind.
Cass stared at it, her mouth dry, her ears ringing. All around her, older campers were kneeling beside the fallen, those who hadn’t made it. The smell of smoke and blood hung heavy in the air. The little blond girl she’d seen before was crying inconsolably in the arms of the boy.
Someone spun her around by the shoulders. She stumbled back, her hand going to the switchblade in her pocket.
“I told you to stay,” Roshan scolded her, he looked angry and scared. “It’s not safe, what are you even doing here?”
“I don’t know,” she started, Roshan opened his mouth to protest and she beat him to it. “I want to help.”
He frowned. “You never want to do anything, you don’t even know first aid yet and you’d just hinder our medics.”
His words stung but she didn’t show it. Didn’t want to admit weakness in front of him. But she could help, she didn’t know how but she knew she could.
“Let me try.”
Roshan didn’t look convinced but he nodded; leading her towards a camper near them, bleeding from a gash along his arm and trying to slow down the blood flow by pressing a torn sleeve into it.
Cass knelt beside the injured camper. The wound wasn’t deep, but blood welled up between his fingers. She reached without thinking, her hands trembling. Something about the movements felt familiar and practiced, even though there was no reason for them to feel that way. Both her and Roshan gasped when light gathered around her fingertips. Soft at first, then brighter and warmer. The air itself seemed to bend, warping around the small ball of light held in her hand. She directed the light towards the boy’s arm and he gasped, Cass’s chest tightened with a strange pull that made her dizzy. The bleeding slowed and the skin began to knit.
She looked back at Roshan, arching an eyebrow. He sighed tiredly but nodded, standing up and walking towards a different injured camper.
“Something else?” she asked the boy on the ground, probably from the Hephaestus cabin.
The boy showed her his other arm, a small cut just above his elbow. She nodded and held out her hand. Suddenly the light flared, uncontrolled. Pain shot through Cass’s own arm. A thin, red line appeared there, in the same place the boy’s wound had been. She yanked her sleeve down before anyone could see. No one noticed anyway, everyone was too busy helping other campers or carrying bodies downhill.
Cass stood, shaking before nodding towards the boy and walking away. Her hands still glowed faintly. She didn’t understand it, and it scared her. She hoped the Hephaestus boy wouldn’t mention it to anyone.
She found herself standing beside Chiron; She’d only talked to him a couple times since the day she arrived at camp and it was incredibly awkward. The new tree stood there; tall, proud, and wrong in ways she couldn’t begin to describe. Completely unnatural, the girl’s body gone and her spirit tangled in rough bark and leaves.
“She was brave,” Chiron murmured. “A hero.”
Cass didn’t answer at first. The wind tugged at her hair, that uncomfortable feeling still heavy in her gut. Something inside her stirred, heavy and bright, and the words spilled out before she could even think about stopping them.
“She wasn’t the one.”
Chiron turned sharply. “What did you say?”
Cass blinked, startled. She hadn’t meant to speak. The air shimmered faintly, a ghost of gold along her arms already fading. “I… don’t know. I just-” She started paling rapidly, remembering Mrs. Daren.
The centaur looked at her in disbelief, wary and calculating. From the porch of the Big House, Mr. D watched, setting down the goblet he’d been drinking from. His expression had changed.
Chiron’s hand rested on her shoulder and she flinched. “Cassandra,” he said softly, “come with me.”
Cass followed Chiron in silence, her hands clasped together so no one would see them trembling. Mr. D sat in his usual chair, flipping through a deck of cards that shuffled themselves and looking just as interested in the tragedy as someone forced to watch a boring play. His purple shirt looked too cheerful for a day like this.
“Oh, marvelous,” he said when they were close enough to the porch. “A prophecy and a funeral all in one day. How efficient.”
Cass stiffened. She wasn’t sure what he meant, but the tone made her feel stupid anyway.
Chiron gave him a weary look. “Dionysus, please.”
“What?” Mr. D said, lifting his hands. “I’m simply applauding the drama. Very touching. A lightning bolt, a heroic sacrifice; and now the tiny prophetess making ominous declarations. I’d almost think Zeus planned it.”
Cass’s chest went cold. Prophetess. The word didn’t sound nice the way he said it.
“We’re still not sure if she’s-” Chiron began, but Mr. D raised a hand.
“Yes, yes, I know. She’s just special. They’re all special until they break something.” His eyes flicked toward Cass for the first time. “What’s your name, sunshine?”
“Cass,” she muttered.
“Cass. Short for?”
She hesitated for some reason. “…Cassandra.”
Mr. D barked a laugh. “Oh, that’s rich.” He looked at Chiron as if sharing a private joke. “You couldn’t make this up if you tried.”
Cass frowned. “What’s so funny about my name?”
“Oh, nothing, dear. Just remembering a little about another Cassandra. Didn’t end well for her either.” He waved a lazy hand. “Anyway, congratulations. Maybe you’ll last the week.”
Chiron shot him a warning look, but Cass had already gone quiet, face blank, eyes hard. She didn’t know what the man meant exactly, but she knew mockery when she heard it.
“Cass,” Chiron said gently, “on the hill… when you spoke, do you remember what you said?”
Her throat tightened. She looked down at her hands. It had already faded but she thought she could still see the faint golden. “I said she wasn’t the one,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to. It just… came out.”
Chiron nodded slowly, his expression grave. “It seems the gift of prophecy runs strong in you. Apollo’s children sometimes-”
“I don’t want it,” she snapped, stepping back. “I didn’t ask for it.”
“No one ever does,” he said softly.
Mr. D snorted. “Oh, spare her the lecture. If she’s anything like the last Cassandra, no one will believe her anyway.”
He didn’t look serious, it was as if he was just telling a very good inside joke. Cass froze anyway. She didn’t understand the full meaning, but something about it hurt.
Chiron’s voice turned sharp. “Enough.”
Mr. D shrugged, picking up his cards again. “Just stating the odds.”
Chiron’s eyes were thoughtful, concerned. Cass’s lip trembled before she bit it hard enough to stop it. She looked between the two men and suddenly she felt smaller than ever.
Mr. D sighed, taking another sip of soda. “Well, if she starts turning people into trees too, do let me know. I’ll start a community garden.”
Chiron sighed, clearly disapproving, but didn’t intervene. Cass bit her tongue hard enough to taste copper. Something burned behind her eyes; not tears, but not quite anger either.
“I want to go,” she said quietly.
Chiron inclined his head. “I’ll have one of your cabinmates walk you back.”
She didn’t wait. She turned and left on her own, the screen door creaking behind her.
On the porch, Mr. D sighed. “She can’t be the one, you know that right? She’s definitely Apollo’s.”
Chiron’s gaze lingered on the path Cass had taken, going back towards the cabins. “No,” he said softly. “But she’ll change everything anyway.”
Cass walked towards cabin seven, already dreading having to deal with Roshan. She could already hear the million questions he was about to shoot her way, she could feel her mood worsening even though it shouldn’t be possible.
“Why are you sulking Sunshine?” an Ares kid taunted as she walked by and she scowled.
She was just unsettled, Mr. D and Chiron had just told her everything without actually telling her anything. She wished really hard for someone to actually explain things for once. She didn’t even know what a ‘prophetess’ was or why she’d been called one; it didn’t sound good though. But she was definitely not sulking.
If she kicked a rock or two during her walk no one had to know.
The area got brighter as she came closer to the Apollo cabin, the walls reflecting sunlight in just the right angle to make her want to blind herself with a plastic fork or yeet herself off a cliff. She did neither and instead kept walking, her eyes focused on the floor.
She had put one (1) foot inside the cabin when Roshan rushed towards her and grabbed her shoulders, quickly steering her to the side as a couple of Apollo campers rushed past them and out the cabin, probably on their way to the infirmary. She noticed their sullen faces, some of them still had fresh blood on their clothes and that brought her mood down even more.
“Cass, I need a favor,” said Roshan, his face a little pale.
Cass didn’t reply verbally but she made an inquisitive noise, an eyebrow arched.
“I know this is a lot, but could you please help me out at the infirmary? We could use a couple extra hands,” he sounded almost pleading.
“I wouldn’t be of much help.”
“Listen, most kids of Apollo have some affinity for healing but yours is exceptionally strong. You are young, and you haven’t had any training but right now… right now we really need any help we can get. Please?”
Cass startled a little, staring into Roshan’s desperate eyes. His grip was starting to turn a little painful and she winced, she knew it wasn’t on purpose but she really wanted him to let her go. His brow furrowed slightly at her silence; then she nodded slowly and he sighed, his grip loosening.
“Thanks,” he sighed and slumped a little before straightening and grabbing her hand instead, “let’s go.”
Then Cass was being dragged towards the infirmary. She’d never been inside and she was really curious about how it looked inside. From the outside it looked like a normal cabin, a little bit on the bigger side but normal nonetheless. Now the inside was a whole nother matter. She’d never been to the hospital but she imagined that’s how one looked like, at least this is what they looked like in the movies. It was bigger on the inside than how it looked from outside and there was medical equipment everywhere.
“This way,” Roshan tugged at her hand, leading her towards what looked like an empty examination room.
Cass stayed standing in the doorway, her eyes scanning the small room. There were some cabinets lined with labeled bottles and what looked like bags of ambrosia, there was a sink built into the counter, a couple of chairs, a desk and an uncomfortable looking bed thing.
“Come here,” Roshan told her with a hand gesture.
Cass walked hesitantly into the room and stood besides the older boy, watching as he opened the drawers and checked the labels.
“Do you think you could keep doing the thing you did with the Hephaestus kid?”
She hesitated. “I think I need sunlight.”
“Figures, I should’ve made the connection earlier,” he muttered as he walked over to the window, opening the blinds completely to let some sunlight in.
Cass hummed, a confused expression on her face as she stared at the boy.
He blinked at her and smiled. “You know, Apollo? Our father, the sun god? Healing and whatnot.”
She couldn’t quite refrain herself from grimacing at the reminder of her father, the god she’d been abandoned by, so she tried to school her face into a scowl instead. She must’ve not been fast enough and a sympathetic look appeared on Roshan’s face, his smile faltering for a second.
“You’re not the only one who feels that way,” he said softly, watching as Cass looked anywhere but at him. “I can’t do anything about that but think about it this way; don’t do it for him, do it for our fellow campers, yes?”
Cass hummed, a doubtful look on her face. “Okay.”
“He’s not all that bad, you know?” said Roshan with a wistful smile.
“You’ve met him?”
“A couple of times. He gave me this,” he said, showing her a weird looking shiny band on his wrist, “It helps me channel healing energy without feeling too exhausted.”
Cass looked at it with a frown, distaste clear on her face.
“He also gave me little siblings, always wanted those,” he teased, ruffling her hair slightly. “I know you don’t like this, but I can be your brother if you want… Well technically you don’t have a choice but you know what I mean.”
She grunted, face a little red, and he laughed softly, as if holding back tears.
“So what do I do?” Cass grumbled, not being able to stand the miserable atmosphere forming in the room.
“Right,” Roshan coughed into his fist, sobering up. “We have many injured campers and not nearly enough medics so try not to exhaust yourself using your ability, use it only when you deem it necessary. Otherwise those two cabinets are filled with bottles of nectar and ambrosia, and the one over there has bandages and antiseptic. Got it?”
Cass nodded and Roshan headed towards the door.
“I’m doing this alone?” she asked, a little panicked.
The older boy froze in the doorway and turned back to her, his face in a sad frown. He bit his lip softly and sighed.
“I’m sorry, I wish I could do more but…” he sighed harshly, running a hand through his hair. “I am the oldest of cabin seven, I am also the counselor and therefore, I have to coordinate this entire mess we call the infirmary.” He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. He looked really tired.
Cass wanted to cry, scream, force him to take a nap or preferably all three. She couldn’t though, neither of those would help her in this situation, it’d only make her look childish and immature.
‘You are a child’ whispered a traitorous voice in her head and she imagined herself suffocating it with a pillow.
She had the impulse to cling to his arm, beg him to stay with her and show her how to do a proper bandage; but Roshan was still standing in the doorway, exhausted and looking one injury away from a breakdown. So she nodded instead, a heavy feeling settling in her chest when he sighed and slumped with relief.
“I’ll make it up to you, yeah?” he promised.
“Yeah,” she said, swallowing the lump in her throat.
He smiled tiredly and walked away, leaving her standing in an empty room to heal people with no medical experience. Cool. She could do this. Probably.
“Hi,” a voice startled her out of her thoughts.
There was a girl standing in the doorway, around twelve years old, with elvish features. So probably a Hermes kid. The lower part of her jeans was torn and there were droplets of blood running down her leg.
“Are you Cassandra?” she asked uncertainly.
Cass nodded stiffly and gestured towards the bed, watching with a pale face as the girl limped into the room.
She could do this… Right?
She walked over to the girl, staring as she lifted the pant the rest of the way. A bandage was tied clumsily around her thigh, blood had already soaked through.
“Um- can you…?”
Cass hesitated. “I can try.”
The girl nodded, biting her lip and staring at Cass as she moved towards the cabinets. She stood by one of the cabinets, pretending to look for something useful. There were rolls of gauze, little jars of ointment and a couple of strange tools she didn’t know the names of. None of them looked like they could fix what was wrong with the world right now. Cass sighed and grabbed a couple of bandages, walking over to the girl once more. Her hands trembled.
“It’s okay,” the girl said, but her voice was tight. “Just… do your best, okay?”
That wasn’t fair. Cass was ten. “Yeah,” she mumbled anyway.
The wound wasn’t deep, but it was messy. Cass pressed the new bandage against it, and the girl hissed through her teeth. Cass winced too, as if the pain had jumped from one body to the other. Her fingers twitched and light flickered beneath her skin.
It happened before she could stop it: a soft glow spread from her hands into the wound. The bleeding slowed, then stopped. The girl stared, wide-eyed.
“You- you’re glowing.”
Cass yanked her hands back as if she’d touched fire. “No, I’m not!” she said quickly. Her palms were warm and tingling, but the light was gone.
The girl tested her leg, blinking. “It doesn’t even hurt anymore. That’s Apollo stuff, right? Lucky you.”
Cass didn’t answer. She suddenly felt sick. She must’ve made some kind of face because the Hermes girl grew quiet.
“Sorry,” she said, looking uncomfortable. “I should go, there are more people who could use your ability. Thanks,” and with that she stood up and practically dashed through the door.
Another head poked through the door not a minute later. This time a boy, very tall, probably around fifteen.
“Hey, Roshan said you could probably help with this?” he said, more like a question, showing her his other hand. It was wrapped in thick bandages and one of his fingers was missing. He reached into his pocket and showed her a bag containing a human finger, probably the one missing. “He said you’ve got this healing ability or whatever.”
Cass’s face paled and she almost fainted on the spot. Yeah, this was gonna be a very long day. And she was going to kill Roshan.
By the time she left the room, the infirmary was quieter. Quieter, but not better. Three of the older Apollo campers, she didn’t know their names, were lying still on one of the tables, covered with white sheets. Someone whispered their names in the hallway. Cass stopped to listen.
They were gone.
She didn’t cry. She didn’t even know if she could. She just stood there, her mind spinning with the sound of wind outside and the faint ringing in her ears.
Roshan came out of one of the rooms and saw her. His eyes were red and puffy; those boys were about his age, he’d probably known them. Cass wanted to comfort him but she didn’t know how, nobody had ever comforted her. She waved at him. He smiled sadly and grabbed her hand, leading her out of the infirmary and towards the cabins without uttering a word.
That night, they burned the shrouds.
The sky was dark, the stars half-hidden by smoke. Cass stood at the edge of the crowd, her arms wrapped around herself. Roshan beside her was whispering a prayer to Apollo, it sounded like a hymn. She didn’t know it, so she stayed quiet.
The flames licked at the air, turning the cloth into sparks that disappeared into the night. She thought about how easily things burned. People, too. They could be there one minute and gone the next; like words in the wind, or like sunlight fading before a storm.
She didn’t know if that was fair. Maybe the gods didn’t care if it was.
Someone behind her said, “They died protecting the border.”
“I heard one of the new Apollo kids said Thalia wasn’t the one. That she knew.” Another voice replied.
Cass turned her head slightly. They were talking about her. The boys looked like older teenagers, probably cabin counselors, which probably explained how they knew that.
“She’s just a kid,” someone else whispered. “But they say she glows. Chiron thinks she might be a prophetess.”
That word again. Prophetess. She didn’t like it. It sounded like something big and cold; like a title that didn’t fit her. She looked down at her hands. They weren’t glowing now, just small and dirty and trembling a little.
“Prophetess,” she muttered under her breath, trying the word out. It tasted wrong.
She thought of the girl from the Hermes cabin, and the way her cut had closed under Cass’s hand. She thought of the older campers who’d never come back, of Thalia who was now a tree, of the lightning storm that had shaken the ground. If she really was a prophetess, shouldn’t she have known something? Shouldn’t she have done something?
The flames crackled. Cass pressed her hands tighter around herself, wishing the light didn’t remind her of everything she couldn’t fix. Everything she should be able to fix, if she was the prophetess.
Roshan gave her a side hug and most campers started dispersing, walking towards their respective cabins. She didn’t though, she evaded her cabinmate’s eyes and walked towards the infirmary.
She stayed there even after the pyres went out. It wasn’t because anyone told her to. It was because the smell of smoke had followed her there, and for some reason, that felt less frightening than the silence outside.
Cass went to cabin seven only to sleep, then went back. She stayed the next day too, and the next, and the next, and the next. Even though she wasn’t really needed anymore. She wanted to help. Roshan looked at her weirdly when she told him that, as if he didn’t understand. She didn’t understand either.
The healers needed help. That’s what Roshan had said, anyway. The cabin of Apollo was supposed to be the cabin of healing and light; except most of them were too young, too tired, or too shaken to do much of either. So Cass stayed, changing bandages, fetching ambrosia, running back and forth for water. Her hands never stopped trembling.
Sometimes, when she pressed her palms over someone’s wound, the light would flicker under her skin again; unsteady, like a candle caught in the wind. She tried to hide it, but people noticed. They always noticed.
“She’s glowing again,” someone whispered once.
“She doesn’t even have to chant,” another said.
“Maybe she’s the next Oracle.”
Cass pretended not to hear them.
She didn’t understand half the words they used; Oracle, prophecy, seer, but she understood the looks. People didn’t look at her the same way anymore. They looked at her like she was something dangerous. Something unnatural. The way her mother had looked at her. And maybe she was. She didn’t want to be though.
Days bled into each other like watercolor left out in the rain. The battle was over, the shrouds were gone, but she still felt haunted. So she worked. The infirmary was quiet, the air smelled like herbs and metal and old paper, and no one tried to talk to her.
Roshan came looking once. He stood awkwardly in the doorway, holding a bowl of soup that steamed faintly in the cool air.
“Hey,” he said. “You shouldn’t stay here all alone.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not supposed to sleep on those tables. They’re for patients.”
“I said I’m fine.”
He frowned. “Cass, you haven’t eaten since breakfast.”
“Maybe I’m not hungry.”
He stepped closer, setting the bowl on a nearby table. “You’re acting weird lately.”
“Maybe everyone should stop talking about me, then.”
Roshan’s jaw tightened. “They’re worried about you. I’m worried about you.”
That word, worried, hit something in her, sharp and raw. She didn’t want it. Didn’t want pity, didn’t want softness, didn’t want anyone to care enough to hurt her later.
She turned her face away. “You shouldn’t be. You’re not my brother.”
His expression faltered. “Cass-”
“Just leave me alone!” she snapped, too fast, too loud. “Go bother someone who actually wants you around.”
He flinched but didn’t leave. “You don’t have to pretend, you know. It’s okay to-”
“Pretend?” Her laugh came out sharp, ugly. “That’s funny, coming from you.”
Roshan blinked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you walk around acting like everyone’s big brother when you can’t even keep yourself together. You smile and joke and pretend everything’s fine, but you’re just as scared as m- as the rest of us. Maybe stop trying to fix me when you can’t even fix yourself.”
The silence afterward felt like a slap she’d given herself. Roshan’s jaw tightened. For a second, he looked like he might yell back.
Roshan stood there for a long second, hurt flashing across his face like a crack in glass. Then he said quietly, “You know, for someone who’s supposed to be a healer, you’re really good at hurting people.”
Cass froze. Her throat closed up, and for a second she wanted to take it back, to tell him she didn’t mean it, that she just didn’t know how to be close to anyone without breaking something. But the words wouldn’t come.
“Whatever,” she muttered instead, forcing a shrug she didn’t feel. “Guess I’m good at something, then.”
He didn’t answer. He just turned and left, the door shutting softly behind him. The sound was too gentle for how much it hurt.
Cass sat there, staring at the soup cooling on the counter. She could still hear her own words replaying in her head, the way his face had fallen right after she said them.
She told herself it didn’t matter. She told herself she didn’t need him, or anyone.
Then she pushed the bowl off the table, just to make sure she couldn’t change her mind.
The soup hit the floor, splattering across the tiles. For a long time, she just watched it spread, the smell of vegetables and broth filling the air, before she finally whispered to no one, “I didn’t mean it.”
The room didn’t answer.
And so days passed like that.
She wrapped wounds, changed sheets, restocked herbs. She didn’t talk much, except to mutter directions to the campers who came limping in. The healers stopped asking her to rest, maybe because they knew she wouldn’t listen, or maybe because they were starting to look at her the same way everyone else did.
Sometimes, she’d wake up with her heart racing and light leaking faintly from her fingertips. She’d shove her hands under her pillow until it went away.
She tried to talk to Chiron once. He was tending to the potted flowers outside, near the Big House.
“Chiron?”
He looked up immediately, his expression gentle. “Yes, Cassandra?”
“Cass,” she corrected out of habit. “I… I keep seeing things. Just little things. Not like- not on purpose.”
Chiron’s face softened. “Prophetic flashes, perhaps. It’s not uncommon for Apollo’s children, especially if you really are a prophetess, which seems to be the case.”
“But I don’t want them.”
He sighed quietly. “We rarely get to choose our gifts, child.”
“Then they’re not gifts,” she muttered.
He didn’t answer, and somehow that was worse. But at least she’d finally found out what a prophecy was.
Life went on, even though sometimes she felt like it shouldn’t have. The word prophetess clung to her for a long time. Cass learned to stop reacting, let it fade into the background.
She still worked in the infirmary. The smell of alcohol and herbs had long replaced the scent of pine and campfire in her memory. She could wrap a bandage faster than most, clean a wound without flinching, even make a good salve. Her hands stopped shaking eventually. Soon she found herself being one of the oldest medics, one of the oldest Apollo campers. Her chest tightened but she didn’t let it stop her. Can’t hit a moving target, right?
Roshan still checked on her often. He never brought soup again, but he always found excuses; to fix a shelf, drop off supplies, or “just make sure you’re alive.” Cass didn’t send him away, but she didn’t make it easy for him, either. Their words carried an invisible edge now. He still smiled, still tried to tease her into smiling back, but there was always that silence afterward, the one she’d built with her own anger. He hadn’t stopped caring and she just didn’t know how to let him show it.
She’d been at camp for a year when another Apollo kid joined the cabin year round, a bright-eyed boy named Lee Fletcher, who was somehow both younger and braver than her. He talked too much, tripped over things, and asked too many questions about everything. Cass had been a little annoyed, he reminded her too much of the way she used to sound before she learned that hope usually hurt. She ignored his existence and kept working.
When she was fourteen, Michael Yew arrived; smaller than Lee but sharper, quieter, and curious in that calculating way Cass recognized instantly. He asked about archery before he asked about anything else. He didn’t talk much, but he watched everything.
Sometimes, she caught him studying her with that same look people gave to Chiron or the satyrs; half respect, half fear, like he wasn’t sure what kind of creature she really was. By then, Cass had gotten used to being the strange one.
She didn’t let herself grow close to them. She went on with her life as usual, ignored when her cabinmates introduced her as their sister, shook them off until they stopped reaching for her. Fake it ‘til you make it, yes?
She didn’t need friends. She didn’t want them. She only needed the work, the light, and the little control she could hold over a place that felt like chaos. And for a while, that was enough.
Roshan still called her kid, though. Still scolded her when she skipped meals, still dragged her to the campfire sometimes. He told her once that he’d never stopped being her brother, even if she didn’t want one.
Cass didn’t know how to answer. So she just said, “You’re wasting your time,” and walked away.
The years slipped by like pages turning in a book she didn’t remember writing. Amelia never came for her, neither did her mother. She grew taller, stronger, sharper. The nightmares faded a little, replaced by the steady rhythm of healing, of doing something good, even if it never felt like enough.
And still, sometimes, she saw flashes.
A boy with sea-green eyes standing on Half-Blood Hill.
A storm roaring over camp.
Luke’s smile cracking at the edges.
Cass would shake her head and keep working.
Because what else could she do? She wasn’t a hero. But something told her he was.
Chapter 2: Monday Humiliation
Notes:
My plan was to write around 5,000 words but I got too excited so enjoy this 12,000 word chapter lol
Also, I'm no medic just an emt so I apologize for any medical innacuracies, I did do my research though :D
TWs in end notes :)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Cass sat on her bunk, watching dust float in the sunlight as the others packed for training. Nobody else from cabin seven was going to Olympus that year, just her and Roshan. The “honor,” Chiron had called it.
It didn’t feel like an honor.
Roshan was double-checking his gear near the door, his movements too loud, too careful, the kind that meant he was nervous but trying not to show it. Cass ignored him, pretending to check her backpack even though she knew it was ready.
“You could at least look like you’re excited,” he said finally. “You’re about to go to Olympus, Cass.”
“Yeah,” she said flatly. “Can’t wait to see a bunch of people who probably don’t even remember I exist.”
Roshan’s shoulders stiffened. “Try to think more positively. You might even meet dad this time.” He smiled wistfully.
She laughed, short, humorless. “Oh, great. I’ll finally get to thank him for the years of absolutely nothing.”
That landed harder than she meant it to. She saw the way he flinched, the way his mouth opened like he wanted to say something but thought better of it.
“Right,” he muttered. “Forget I said anything.”
Cass looked down at her hands. The tips of her fingers glowed faintly when the light hit them just right, a reminder of what she was. What she’d been forced to be. ‘Sorry,’ she almost said, but the word never made it past her teeth.
Instead, she said, “Let’s just get this over with,” and stood up so fast the bed creaked loudly.
Outside, the air bit at her face. The winter sky was washed-out and colorless, the kind that felt like it could split open at any moment. Camp looked the same as ever, but Cass could feel it, the heaviness underneath. The kind of silence that comes before something breaks. Everyone else looked at ease though, so maybe she was just overthinking.
Chiron was waiting for them at the top of the hill, watching as the other campers put their bags and backpacks in the back of a white truck. It had a strawberry logo and some big bold red letters that she could not understand but she knew read “Delphi’s Strawberry Delivery Service.”
Roshan walked a few steps ahead, not looking back. She didn’t blame him. She’d be pretty upset with herself too, if she were him.
Her chest tightened as her gaze drifted toward the pine tree on the hill, Thalia’s tree, struck still in eternal defense. The branches shivered in the wind like they were whispering something she couldn’t hear.
Cass pulled her cloak tighter. There it was again, that pull in her gut, the faint hum under her skin. Something was coming, and whatever it was, it wouldn’t be kind. She wanted nothing to do with it.
“Cass, you coming?” Roshan called without turning.
She stared one last time at the tree, then followed.
“Yeah, I’m coming.”
With the amount of luggage and campers, the back of the truck was a little packed; and in her haste to sit far away from Roshan, she ended up sitting besides a tall boy and a younger blond girl. She remembered them from that day, but she’d never really met them.
The blond girl turned to look at her. “Who are you?”
Cass raised an eyebrow at her, narrowing her eyes when she caught sight of Roshan laughing into his fist. The taller boy beside her had no such qualms and chuckled openly, tugging playfully on one of the girl’s blond curls. She swatted his hand away.
“So?” The girl asked with a huff, clearly growing impatient at the lack of a proper answer.
“Annabeth, this is one of the counselors from cabin seven. She spends most of her time in the infirmary,” the boy replied for her.
A shiver ran down Cass’s back at the sound of his voice. There was something wrong about him; something that had been there since the day he arrived at the infirmary with a wound on his face and asking to be healed. Something unpleasant tugged at her gut and she ignored it, she’d had years of practice by now. Something bad was going to happen with him, but she really did not want to know.
She nodded, holding out her hand. “My name is Cass.”
The girl, Annabeth, shook her hand politely. “Your name is Cassandra? And you’re from cabin seven?” she somehow managed to sound offended in her stead.
“I know, okay? Just Cass is fine, no need to shove it in my face,” she huffed, starting to feel a little annoyed.
Annabeth nodded, looking at her strangely. Cass decided to ignore it, they’d rarely see each other after they returned from their little field trip so she really didn’t care about what the younger girl thought about her. To be fair, she hated her name too.
The boy leaned over and held out his hand. “I’m Luke, cabin eleven’s counselor.”
Cass stared at him for a second before nodding and shaking his hand too. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
It really wasn’t but she was not about to tell him that.
“The pleasure is all mine,” he replied with a wink.
She saw Annabeth blush faintly but she wanted to recoil with disgust. Many girls at camp found him charming and confident, handsome. Which he was, objectively. Yet he had a weird vibe, dark, and she would know about vibes, if her ‘prophetess’ title was worth anything. Besides he was, what? Eighteen? Cass was only fourteen.
‘You’re disgusting’ she wanted to say. But she didn’t; instead she smiled tightly and hoped her disdain didn’t show on her face, before turning towards the window, making it obvious that the conversation was over. She caught Roshan’s concerned gaze in the glass and closed her eyes instead. She was already regretting coming on this trip.
The drive was long and quiet.
Roshan had tried to fill the silence at first; talking about the other cabins, the weather, even the satyrs’ latest attempt at forming a band, but Cass’s one-word answers eventually wore him down. No one was in the mood to talk; as year-rounders they didn’t get to see the outside world much after their arrival to camp, and everyone was nervous about encountering monsters. After a while, only the sound of the tires on the highway and the low hum of the radio filled the van.
Outside, the world blurred into shades of gray and white. The winter light made everything look too sharp, like the edges might cut if she stared too long. Cass pressed her forehead against the glass and watched the frost melt wherever her breath touched it. They passed the border of Long Island in near silence. Behind them, camp disappeared into the distance.
By the time they arrived, the sky had faded into that hollow blue that comes right before evening. She’d never been to Manhattan before, and everything seemed so… big. She wondered if other places were this way too, since she’d never really had the chance to travel before Sylvester found her. Maybe one day she’d find out.
Argus parked in front of the Empire State and everyone started getting out of the van, retrieving their things before standing near a waiting Chiron. The centaur was in his wheelchair, a strange sight after years of seeing him everyday at camp.
“We’re here,” Roshan said from beside her, too gently, like he expected her to bolt.
She didn’t. She just stared at the Empire State Building towering above them, its windows catching the dying light. Something about it made her stomach twist; the same feeling she got before a wound reopened or a vision crept up behind her eyes.
“You ready?” Roshan asked, pulling his jacket tighter.
“Sure,” she said, voice flat. “Let’s go meet the family.”
“Stay close,” Chiron said as he started heading toward the doors, the group following in a loose line. “Remember, the Winter Solstice Council is an honor. Behave accordingly.”
The lobby was bright and busy, full of mortals who never looked twice at a centaur disguised as a man in a wheelchair, or a handful of teenagers wearing too much celestial bronze. The doorman didn’t even blink as Chiron slipped a golden drachma into his palm and murmured something Cass couldn’t catch.
Then the elevator doors opened. They all stepped in, Chiron inserted a key and a button for the six hundredth floor appeared. The elevator started moving, horrible music started playing through the speakers and some of the campers laughed nervously. Whoever had chosen the music clearly had terrible taste.
Ding.
The elevator stopped and the doors slid open. Cass blinked. Olympus stretched in front of them. It was everything she’d been told it would be. Beautiful, blinding. She hated it.
They followed Chiron down a marble path that wound between columns and flowering trees that shimmered faintly in the light. The city seemed alive, nymphs and satyrs ran along flowery paths, laughter echoed somewhere far off, and the air itself hummed with power. Every step felt like trespassing.
Somewhere deep in her chest, the same pull she felt when something was about to go very wrong twisted tight, and it didn’t let go. She rubbed at her chest discreetly and kept walking, ignoring Roshan’s curious eyes.
At the end of the path stood the Council Hall; massive, gleaming, built for beings who were never meant to be human. Cass swallowed hard as they entered.
Twelve thrones ringed the chamber, carved from impossible materials: silver, obsidian, vegetation, wood, bronze, and gold. The gods sat among them, radiant and terrible. Cass’s first thought was that they didn’t look much like people at all.
Zeus’s voice rumbled across the hall, sharp and commanding as thunder. Poseidon sat silent beside him, a storm flickering in his eyes. Athena’s expression gave nothing away. Artemis’s gaze flicked briefly to Roshan and her, then softened almost imperceptibly before returning to the meeting. She didn’t want to think about why she knew who was who and what they looked like.
And there he was. Apollo lounged casually, golden and effortless, a half-smile playing on his lips as though the hall was his favorite place and this was the best moment of his life. The air around him shimmered with light that bent in lazy waves, like the sun obeyed his rhythm.
Cass felt… nothing. Or maybe too much to name. She’d save the thought for later, she’d always been good at compartmentalization. Now was not the time to behave as anything more than a very mature, very composed demigod child soldier cabin counselor.
Beside her, Roshan fidgeted excitedly, then whispered, “It’s him. Cass, that’s our father.”
She didn’t look away from the god. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “I figured.”
Apollo’s gaze swept over the gathered campers; polite, unreadable, practiced. When his eyes reached them, they lingered just long enough for Roshan to grin nervously. Apollo’s mouth curved into a small, knowing smile in return. He winked at them and turned his eyes towards his father.
Cass’s chest tightened.That was it? One smile? Fourteen years of silence and a look across a room like they were strangers on a train? Her stomach twisted. She stared at the marble floor, tracing the cracks with her eyes so she wouldn’t have to look at him. Her eyes burned and she fisted her hands on her shorts.
The gods talked, argued, laughed. Zeus’s voice boomed, Poseidon’s was rough and deep like waves breaking against cliffs, Hades’s low and steady, his presence dark and cold enough that Cass could feel it from where she stood. The demigods were barely acknowledged, standing near the door like servants instead of children.
Roshan was still watching Apollo. Cass could feel it. She envied him a little, how he could still hope, how his faith hadn’t yet been crushed by disappointment. But then again he’d gotten to see the god a couple of times since he was eleven; she was fourteen and this was her first time meeting him. If it could even be called that.
She spaced out and her thoughts drifted to her mother. She wondered, not for the first time, if she was just a mistake everyone kept pretending was part of the plan. She wondered if Apollo was at fault for her mother’s attitude, how had she even come to exist? She wondered how Amelia and her mother were doing, if they were better without her.
The gods’ voices rose and she snapped back to reality, a heated argument over something she couldn’t follow. Zeus slammed his hand against his throne, lightning crackling in the air. Roshan flinched; Cass didn’t. She felt detached, floating somewhere between anger and exhaustion. Maybe that was safer than caring. She really should stop overthinking in public spaces.
When the shouting faded and the tension settled into a brittle silence, she dared to glance up again. Apollo was still smiling. And for some reason, that made her feel worse.
Slowly, the arguments stopped, the gods’ voices getting softer, the sky got darker and the meeting came to its end. Cass thought she’d finally get to rest, only to be disappointed when nymphs started carrying in plates filled with food and drinks.
“Go ahead,” Chiron said, “remember to behave and watch your nectar and ambrosia intake.”
Roshan attempted to grab her arm but she shook him off and stayed in place, ignoring the hurt look on his face and watching as he practically ran towards their his father. She sighed when she felt more than saw the centaur move to stand beside her.
“Are you not going to meet your father, Cass?”
Cass shrugged, feeling cold and uncomfortable. She probably should be more polite, but she didn’t really have the energy to care. Thankfully, Chiron didn’t seem to care either; so they stood by the entrance in a comfortable silence.
Suddenly Roshan came running towards her. “Come on, Cass! Please?” He’d grabbed her arm before she could react and started tugging.
She grimaced and glanced towards Chiron, hoping that maybe he’d help her in her predicament. The centaur, however, had a thoughtful expression on his face that made dread start pooling in her chest.
“You should not waste this opportunity, child. You don’t know when the next one might come,” he said, pushing her lightly towards the direction where Roshan had come from.
Roshan was still tugging insistently on her arm and Chiron arched an eyebrow, his eyes focusing on something behind her. Cass followed his line of sight and found Apollo standing there, watching them. She stiffened and sighed, finally letting the boy drag her towards the god. Soon she found herself standing awkwardly in front of him.
“I’ve brought my sister, father;” Roshan exclaimed excitedly, making her wince at the wording.
She could feel the god’s eyes on her, heavy. She bowed slightly, just low enough that it couldn’t be considered disrespectful, and kept her eyes downcast, making a conscious effort to focus on the floor.
“Thank you, Roshan.”
She could practically feel the older boy vibrating beside her. It was irritating, frustrating to no end.
“Look at me, daughter,” the god told her.
Cass resisted the urge to sneer and slowly looked up, keeping her face carefully neutral. She could not believe this god was her father; he looked like a teenager, around the same age as Roshan. Not only that, his whole demeanor screamed child, it was ridiculous and she had to bite her tongue as to not make any sarcastic remarks.
“I’d already known it, but it is impressive to see in person how much you take after me in the looks department,” he sounded smug, proud. She wanted to give him a black eye.
“Yes, sir,” she mumbled.
Suddenly the god had the look of a kicked puppy. “Come on! Don’t be so formal with me now, Cassie,” he whined.
Cass tensed, her hands balling into fists behind her back. She wanted to snap at him, to demand answers. She also desperately wanted him to hug her and behave like a normal, mortal dad. She shoved those thoughts as deep as they could go.
Suddenly everything was too much. The lights were too bright, the hall too loud, scents stronger than she could endure. She felt nauseous. Coming here had been a mistake.
“It’s Cass, sir,” she said slowly, emphasizing the formality, “and it would not be right for me to behave the way you are asking me to.”
“But-” Apollo started to protest, a childish pout on his face.
“I am very tired. Could I be dismissed, sir?”
Roshan squeezed her arm, a pleading look on his face. Cass knew what he wanted; he wanted her to give him a chance, to talk to the god and act as if she hadn’t been blaming everything on him since childhood. She was not going to give him the satisfaction though, not yet. She was allowed to hold grudges, and gods was she good at it.
The god had a resigned look on his face. “Alright, guess we can chat tomorrow before y’all leave. Have a nice rest, daughter.”
Roshan squeezed her arm a little tighter but she shook him off, walking towards where Chiron was standing without looking at anyone. Behind her, she could hear Roshan apologizing to his father before rushing towards her.
“Is everything alright, Cass?” Chiron asked, concern coloring his voice.
“I’m feeling tired. Can I please retire for the night?”
Chiron hummed and examined her for a moment; a sad, knowing look in his eyes. Cass was reminded of the first time she saw him, she remembered seeing that same look. At the time it made her uneasy, now it made her feel exposed.
“Yes, I think that is fine,” he finally acquiesced. “Your brother should know the way, have a good night.”
She nodded, not protesting at the wording, or even when Roshan grabbed her hand softly to guide her towards their room. She dragged her feet with great effort, her chest feeling tight in a way it hadn’t since years ago. Roshan said something, a cheerful attempt at comfort, maybe, and she nodded because that was what people did when they were supposed to listen. The corridors of Olympus blurred together, all marble and light and the faint scent of something sweet in the air.
When they reached the small suite meant for the Apollo cabin, Roshan pushed the door open, still talking softly. She looked at him, wary. She knew he’d been looking forward to spending a couple hours with the pathetic excuse of a god he called father.
She squeezed his hand softly. “I’m sorry.”
A shadow of hurt crossed his eyes so fast, that if she hadn’t been looking for it she would’ve missed it. Immediately she felt worse, she couldn’t do anything about it now.
“It’s fine. Just… let’s get some rest, okay?”
She nodded and sat down on one of the beds. The bed felt too soft, the air too still. The city outside their balcony glowed faintly gold, like dawn trapped in a jar. She sat down, then lay back without really deciding to. It was as if her body was moving on autopilot. The world looked wrong, as if she was seeing it through a screen instead of being there herself. She tried to focus on something solid: the sheets, her hands, the faint hum of divine energy that clung to every surface here. But it all slipped away. She closed her eyes.
It wasn’t Olympus anymore. The light was softer, filtered through the old windows of a mortal café. She knew this place, or maybe she’d just seen it in her mother’s photos.
Joanne sat at a small table, laughing. Younger, brighter, her hair catching the sun. Across from her sat a man who glowed subtly, all easy charm and golden warmth. Apollo. Cass recognized him instantly. They looked happy. The way he leaned forward, teasing her; the way Joanne’s laughter filled the space like music. Cass wanted to step closer, but her feet wouldn’t move. She just watched, silent.
‘Why didn’t I get that version of you?’ she thought as she watched the woman before her ‘Why did you turn cold? Why did you look at me like I was the reminder of something you wanted to forget?’
The warmth in the café dimmed. The laughter faded. Her mother’s face blurred. The scene shifted, colors twisting until she was back on Olympus, only it was wrong. Too dark. Too quiet.
Someone moved in the distance. A boy, maybe a few years older than her, his figure half-hidden by shadows. She couldn’t see his face, only the flicker of something metallic in his hands and the quick movement of someone doing something they shouldn’t.
Cass’s chest tightened. The air felt charged, dangerous, the way it felt right before a lightning strike. And she would know how that felt. She tried to call out, to step closer, but the floor cracked beneath her feet and light burst everywhere.
She woke up with a gasp. The room was quiet. Roshan was asleep on the bed beside her, snoring softly. She snickered quietly when she saw he was drooling on his pillow.
Cass sat up slowly, massaging her temples and trying to remember the already fading dream. Something about it felt wrong, urgent, but she couldn’t hold onto it. It escaped from her like sand between her fingers.
She rubbed her face harshly, trying to chase away the growing ache behind her eyes. Her mind wandered back to what she remembered from the dream, to her mother. To the woman who smiled at the sun god like she wasn’t afraid of anything; the one who joked and laughed freely, unburdened. It all seemed so far away that Cass wondered if that woman had ever truly existed.
She wanted to see her mother. She wanted to see Amelia too. There were so many questions she wanted to ask. Was her mother even still alive? How did Amelia know about camp? Why had her mother changed so much? Why had neither of them ever come looking for her?
At that moment she had an idea, a bad idea probably… definitely. Cass did not let herself think twice and got up from bed as quietly as she could, careful not to wake the still sleeping boy. Her hands trembled with an emotion she couldn’t name as she shoved all of her stuff back into her backpack and opened the door quietly. She glanced at Roshan one last time before closing the door carefully and dashing down the hallway.
The halls blurred as she ran silently like a thief in the night, her feet light and silent. She wasn’t even out of Olympus yet, and she already felt more free than she had felt since… ever. Soon she found herself standing before the elevator, her hands trembled with anticipation.
Her finger was an inch from the button when soft fingers encased her wrist. She startled and flinched away, her head turning so fast she got dizzy for a few seconds.
“What are you doing?” Roshan asked her. He had a bed head and his voice was hoarse from sleep, yet his eyes were sharp and focused.
Her fingers twitched in his grasp and he let go. Cass took a step back, massaging her wrist with a wary look on her face. The moonlight gave everything an eerie quality and she shivered.
Roshan’s face fell at the lack of an answer. “Where are you going?” he demanded again.
“What I’m doing or where I’m going is none of your business,” she snapped.
Hurt flashed across his face before it hardened, an angry look in his eyes. Cass tried to take a step back but he grabbed her wrist again, tightening his grip when she tried to pull away.
“It is my business when you’re trying to get yourself killed!” He whisper yelled.
“I’m not though, so you can let go already,” Cass hissed back, trying to tug her arm free with no success.
Roshan let go so suddenly that she almost fell back. He started pacing and mumbling in ancient Greek, rubbing his face so hard it was starting to turn red. Cass watched with thinly veiled surprise, her hands fiddling with the hem of her shirt nervously. She knew that if he really tried, she wouldn’t be able to escape.
“Listen,” he started, tiredly, “I’ve given you space, because I knew that’s what you wanted. But you can’t do this and expect me to be okay with it.”
She blinked at him and he sighed. An awkward silence followed.
“Is it important?”
She blinked at him again. “What?”
“What you’re doing, where you want to go. Is it important to you?”
She pretended to think for a moment, eyeing him with suspicion. He looked at her expectantly, all anger vanishing from his face.
She nodded hesitantly. “Yes… very.”
Roshan sighed once more and looked towards the sky as if asking the universe for strength. “Alright. Then I’m coming with you.”
Cass looked up sharply, openly surprised for once. Her mouth opened and closed several times before Roshan pushed it closed with two fingers.
“You’re gonna catch flies if you keep gaping like a fish.”
Cass’s jaw snapped shut at his teasing, the sound louder than it had a right to be in the marble corridor. “I wasn’t gaping,” she muttered, “and you shouldn’t be here.”
Roshan crossed his arms. “You shouldn’t be running away before the sun has even risen either, yet here we are.”
“Go back to bed.”
“Not happening.”
Her glare could’ve cut glass, but he didn’t move. He stood there, stubborn as ever. She wanted to scream at him, push him away, make him leave before he got caught up in her bad decisions, but for some reason she didn’t.
Finally, she sighed. “You don’t even know where I’m going.”
“I’ll figure it out on the way,” he shrugged with a lopsided smile. “You’re stuck with me, I’m not letting my little sister run off alone.”
She rolled her eyes, though the corner of her mouth twitched, barely. “You’re gonna regret this.”
“Probably. But if you die, I’ll regret it more.”
“We’ll probably get in trouble,” she insisted.
“Yes, we definitely will, but I’ve made up my mind.”
For a moment, silence stretched between them; fragile, almost soft. Then a new voice, lazy and familiar, shattered it.
“So it’s a family trip?”
They both froze. Cass turned slowly, stomach twisting. Leaning against the corridor wall was Apollo himself. Golden hair unreasonably perfect and glowing unnaturally. His smile was kind and honest. It was infuriating.
“How long have you been there?” Cass asked, her pulse spiking.
“Long enough to realize y’all about to do something stupid,” he said cheerfully, pushing himself off the wall.
“We weren’t-“
“Yes, you were,” Apollo interrupted, pointing at Cass with an almost comical flick of his finger. “She’s got that ‘running away from emotional responsibility’ look. I’d recognize it anywhere. Family resemblance.”
Cass clenched her jaw. “You don’t know anything about me.”
He tilted his head, his smile softening for just a second. “Don’t I?”
That tone; too gentle, too knowing, made something twist deep in her chest. She looked away.
“I’m not staying here,” she said flatly. “I just want to see my mom. That’s all.”
Apollo sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Of course you do. Because when someone has complicated feelings, the best thing to do is sneak out of Olympus in the middle of the night.”
Cass shot him a glare that could have incinerated him had she been a little more divine. “You can’t stop me.”
“Oh, I’m not going to stop you.”
That caught both of the siblings off guard.
Apollo grinned, utterly unbothered. “If you want to visit your mother, fine. But you’re not taking the elevator like a mere mortal. You’re taking the express route.”
Roshan blinked. “The… what?”
Apollo snapped his fingers.
The air shimmered. There had been nothing there, suddenly there was a red Maserati. It glowed softly, not enough to be unnerving but just enough to be obviously unnatural.
Cass and Roshan blinked in disbelief.
“Is… is that the sun chariot?” Roshan asked in awe.
“Well yes, you could call it that.”
Roshan rushed forward excitedly, inspecting every part of the magic car. Cass stayed in place, staring at the god with a complicated look in her eyes.
“I’m not going anywhere with you… sir,” she finally stated.
Apollo looked at her knowingly. “I know you don’t like me very much.”
She thought that was definitely the understatement of the century.
“But think about it this way,” the god continued. “Something is about to happen. You know that too, right?”
Apollo’s eyes glowed a bright gold and Cass stared, something familiar stirring inside her. She found herself nodding without meaning to.
“Well I don’t want to be here when it happens, whatever that is, too much hassle. You want to escape from Olympus and coincidentally the sun is about to rise so I have to go anyway. You’re both my kids and father is used to me causing trouble so no one will be suspicious of you. It’s a win-win situation, what do you think?” He offered, making jazz hands.
She glanced sideways, watching as Roshan seemed to be fascinated with his father’s chariot. She thought back to the day before, when she’d accidentally cut their time together short.
“Okay,” she finally agreed.
“Great! Let’s go now!” Exclaimed the god as he ran towards the car like an overexcited toddler.
Cass sighed and silently wondered how her life had turned out this way.
“Sooo…” the god looked at Cass expectantly.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “So what?”
“What’s your favorite color?”
Cass shot him a baffled look and turned away, ignoring Apollo’s answering pout. In the back of the car, Roshan was trying to muffle his laughter, pretending to cough into his fist.
“I’m trying to start a conversation here!” the god whined. “One would think you’d be excited at meeting your father for the first time, you gotta give me something. This is our way of spending family time, yes?”
Cass’s chest tightened and she balled her hands into fists, focusing her eyes outside instead. The thought of one day being a passenger on a flying car never crossed her mind before, it seemed impossible after all; yet here she was, marveling at the clouds just outside the window.
Her hands clenched and unclenched on her lap. “Was…” she trailed off.
“Yes?” Apollo asked, looking at her sideways.
Cass took a deep breath and braced herself. “Was mom always like that?”
The god’s face went through a million different emotions in half a second before settling into careful neutrality. “I think you know the answer,” he finally said, voice soft but eyes hard.
She nodded, eyeing him curiously. After her last dream, she assumed that would be the case, but nothing could have possibly prepared her to hear it said out loud. Apollo looked at her pityingly and she looked away, quiet tension began rising in the vehicle. Roshan fidgeted uncomfortably but didn’t interrupt.
“What was she like?” Cass breathed out after a few moments.
Apollo’s face contorted as if in pain. “She was… very carefree. She was also very creative, loved to draw and read,” he sighed harshly. “I never thought she’d become the woman you got to know.”
Cass stayed silent for a while. Roshan leaned over and encased one of her hands in both of his, his eyes were curious but she knew he wouldn’t ask.
“Why didn’t you help me? I know she prayed to you” she whispered, so low it was almost a breath.
The god looked at her strangely. “But I did,” he looked confused. “I sent Sylvester. Joanne got what she deserved,” there was a hard look in his eyes.
She was about to ask what he meant, then the car stopped so suddenly she had to scramble to find purchase. Her heart beat wildly in her chest and she panted, trying to recover her breath. In the backseat, Roshan was upside down, his head on the floor and feet on the seat.
“We’re here!” the god exclaimed with way too much cheer.
Cass was about to snap at him when she realized where they were. They were parked in front of a big house, it looked very old but well cared for. It was beautiful, with its surrounding vegetation and a couple of fountains; but Cass recognized it for what it was, a nursing home.
She stared at the god, blinking slowly. “You did hear that I wanted to see my mother, right?”
Apollo turned to her, his eyes tinted with a mixture of smugness, anger and sadness. “Yes. So go ahead, visit your mother. She was in room 15 last time I visited, but you would do well asking at the front desk, just in case.”
Her eyes widened and Roshan was gaping at the both of them openly. Hesitantly, she opened the door and stepped out, the cold air turning her skin red. She could feel her face paling and her heartbeat picking up with anxiety.
“Cassandra,” the god called, uncharacteristically serious.
She turned to look at him, her hands trembling, too nervous to correct him. “Yes, sir.”
“Catch,” he exclaimed as he tossed her a bag. “I have a feeling you’ll need it later, it’s enchanted so all you need is light. Put it on and take it off when you need it.”
Cass opened the bag, finding a normal looking leather belt, pretty, but normal. She knew better than to entertain that naive thought though, gods were anything but normal. She arched an eyebrow skeptically but obeyed, her fingers fumbling clumsily with the buckle. She looked at him suspiciously when he smiled at her softly.
“I am called κουροτρόφος for a reason,” he said as he put on a pair of sunglasses. “And I hope you call me dad, next time we meet. Say hi to Amelia for me, will ya?”
Kourotrophos, child nurturer. He’d never nurtured her though, or at least she hadn’t noticed. Anger started rising in her chest once more and Roshan tugged on her hand once, shaking his head in a silent warning.
Cass opened her mouth to reply anyways but she didn’t get the chance, when she blinked the god was gone. She just stood there, frozen, the air glittering faintly where the maserati had been just a moment before. What had just happened? And what did he mean by that?
“Cass,” Roshan called, softly, as if he were talking to a scared animal. “It’s cold outside, we should go in.”
For a moment Cass just stood there, looking at the trees. The sky above the nursing home was gray and heavy, and the air smelled faintly of rain and antiseptic.
Roshan’s hand found her wrist, tugging lightly. “Come on.”
She followed without really meaning to. Her shoes crunched over gravel, and she felt strangely weightless. The glass doors slid open with a faint hiss. Warm air wrapped around them, carrying the smell of disinfectant and something faintly floral. Behind the front desk, a woman in pale pink scrubs looked up from her computer.
“Can I help you?” she asked, polite but distracted.
Roshan cleared his throat. “We’re here to see Joanne Astoria.”
The woman typed something, eyes flicking between them and the screen. “Relation?”
Roshan hesitated. “Family,” he said finally, voice steady. The woman arched an eyebrow skeptically. “She’s her daughter, I’m her stepson,” he lied smoothly. Although it was true… to a degree.
The woman stared them down for a few seconds and Cass thought that she wouldn’t allow them in. However, that seemed to be enough. She scribbled something on a clipboard, then pointed down the hall. “Room 15. Take the elevator to the second floor, then turn left. It’s the last door before the window.”
“Thanks,” Roshan muttered.
Cass didn’t say anything. Her hands were clenched so tight around the straps of her backpack that her knuckles had gone white. Roshan took her hand and dragged her toward the metallic doors, squeezing with a sly smile when familiar music started playing through the speakers. She couldn’t quite bring herself to smile back.
The elevator doors opened and they stepped out. Each step down the hallway echoed. Linoleum floors. Faded pastel walls.
Cass stopped outside the door, her hand hovering over the handle. Her pulse was a drumbeat under her skin. Roshan didn’t say anything this time. He just waited, close enough for her to know he was there, far enough to let her choose. Cass exhaled slowly, then turned the handle. The door creaked open. And everything she thought she’d prepared for, every angry word, every bitter memory, unraveled the moment she saw the woman in the bed.
She was so thin that she was practically just skin and bones. Her skin was so pale it looked gray, bruises and small scars littered all across her arms. Circles so dark they looked black were prominent under her eyes, a hollow look to them. The woman was just lying there on the bed, buried under a pile of blankets. There was an IV attached to her arm, a cannula on her nose and the cabinets beside her filled with pill bottles. The curtains were drawn, the room lit by a small bedside lamp, an old TV was on and murmuring in the background.
Cass felt her heart stop in her chest, Roshan gasped behind her. This was not what she had expected, at all. Roshan pushed her lightly and she stepped into the room.
“Mom?” she whispered, walking slowly towards the bed.
The woman turned to look at her, her eyes flashing with recognition. “Cassandra,” she acknowledged. She smiled softly, her hand trembling as she reached out to touch her cheek. “You’re taller now… the light follows you now, doesn’t it?” Her eyes looked dazed, her fingers were cold.
“What are you talking about, mom?” Cass asked, resisting the urge to flinch away from the touch.
“You shouldn’t come on bright days, it makes it worse,” the woman said, before turning back to the TV, ignoring the two teenagers as if they weren’t there.
Cass stepped back slowly, her legs trembling. Roshan steadied her with a hand on her elbow. He didn’t say anything, nothing could have helped even if he had. He embraced her hesitantly, and for the first time, she sank into it. Her eyes burned and she fisted her hands on the back of his shirt, her heart hammering wildly in her chest.
The door opened and she lifted her head from where she’d buried it in Roshan’s shoulder, gasping when she saw who it was.
“Cass? Is that you?” Amelia gasped as her eyes filled with tears.
Cass stared at her, stunned. She was wearing her nurse scrubs in a soft purple, her hair in a tight bun. She looked tired and stressed, as if she wasn’t able to sleep well.
“Oh, gods,” she cried as she surged forward to wrap her into her arms, making Roshan take a step back. “What are you doing here? Are you okay? You’ve gotten so tall!” there was a big smile on her face, her hands cradling Cass’s own.
Cass stared at her wide-eyed. She had to stare down at Amelia now, towering over her slightly. There were a couple of gray streaks on her hair that hadn’t been there before and she’d gotten thinner, her hands and wrists bony. Cass blinked, her throat tightening as Amelia’s hands cupped hers.
“I- uh, I’m fine,” she managed, though her voice came out hoarse. “We were just- passing through.”
“Passing through?” Amelia repeated, smiling shakily through tears. “My girl, you’re in a nursing home, not a park. You can’t just pass through here.”
Cass tried to pull her hands back, but Amelia didn’t let go. There was something steady in her touch, something that hadn’t changed in all these years, the same warmth that used to smooth over every scraped knee, every nightmare.
Behind them, Roshan shifted awkwardly, uncharacteristically looking everywhere but at them. He mumbled a quiet, “Hi,” when Amelia finally noticed him.
“Oh! You must be Roshan. I’ve heard about you,” Amelia said, smiling a little before turning back to Cass. Her expression softened again.
Amelia still had her hands in hers, trembling slightly. Her eyes were bright with emotion, but Cass couldn’t bring herself to smile. Too many questions burned in her chest.
“How did you know?” she finally asked, voice quiet but cutting through the air like glass. “Why did you send me away so easily? You knew, didn’t you? About me. About him.”
Amelia hesitated. The air seemed to go still. “Yes,” she whispered. “I knew.”
Cass blinked. “How?”
Amelia drew in a shaky breath and let go of her hands, as if the weight of the truth was too heavy to keep holding. “I’m clearsighted,” she said. “I always have been, but it got stronger after… after your father came to me. He said I was the only one who truly cared for you. That you were meant for a world your mother couldn’t understand. He blessed me so I could see through the Mist, to keep you safe until you were ready to go.”
Cass blinked, taken aback. “He- he did what?”
“He said it was only fair,” Amelia went on, voice soft and fond. “So that I could understand what I was protecting you from.”
Cass’s jaw tightened, she intended to laugh and it came out as an angry exhale instead. “He abandoned us. He abandoned me.”
Amelia’s eyes flickered with pain. “He didn’t mean for it to be this way. And your mother’s illness… it is not only of the body, but also of the mind. The doctors call it porphyria but truly, it is your father’s curse. She offended him greatly, and this is the price she’s paying.”
She gasped, surprised, remembering the horrible prayer she’d heard her mother mutter that day. Roshan took a small step closer, but didn’t interrupt. His presence was steady, awkward, but grounding.
“She was angry,” Amelia said quietly. “She didn’t mean it, not really, but gods listen to words, not intentions. Apollo was furious, so he did the only thing he could; he made sure she wouldn’t ever think of hurting you again.”
Cass stared at the floor. Her voice came out small. “So he cursed her,” she was finally beginning to understand the things he’d told her earlier.
Roshan shifted beside her, his jaw tightening. He looked like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the right words.
“I know it’s a lot,” Amelia said softly, reaching out again. “But he cares for you, Cass. In his own strange, godly way. I think he always has.”
Cass gave a short, brittle laugh. “Right. He cared so much, and he demonstrated it by leaving me with her!”
Amelia’s expression faltered. “He didn’t-”
The words died in her mouth as a sudden, sharp sound tore through the room. Joanne had started humming under her breath, low and tuneless, staring at the sunlight slanting through a gap in the curtains. Then, abruptly, she began to scratch at her forearms.
“Joanne,” Amelia said quickly, walking over to the bed. “Jo, sweetheart, stop that.”
But Joanne’s humming grew louder, strained, her fingers digging into her skin until angry red lines appeared. “The light,” she whispered. “It's- it’s burning me! It’s trying to eat me alive-”
Roshan took a step forward, alarm flashing across his face. “Cass-”
Cass couldn’t move. She just stood there, watching her mother unravel. The woman who used to scare her to tears now looked like she was fighting something invisible, shaking and muttering under her breath.
“The light won’t stop,” Joanne cried, her voice breaking. “It’s him. He’s everywhere. I told him- I told him to take her, not me-”
“Joanne!” Amelia’s tone turned firm, practiced. She moved quickly, taking Joanne’s wrists in her hands. “Hey, look at me. It’s okay. You’re safe. It’s not real, it’s just a memory.”
Her mother blinked rapidly, her chest heaving. Then, slowly, her body stilled. For a moment, silence. Just the faint buzz of the TV and Cass’s pulse in her ears. Joanne turned her head, eyes unfocused, and then, suddenly, she found Cass’s face. And for a flicker of a moment, the haze lifted.
“Cassandra,” she breathed. Her voice was soft, broken. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to-”
Cass stepped closer without realizing it, but before she could say anything, Joanne’s gaze went empty again. She released Amelia’s hands and turned back toward the television. The show flickered on the screen. No one spoke.
Cass’s mouth felt dry. Her mother’s apology echoed in her ears, faint and unreal. She didn’t even know what she was supposed to feel; anger, pity, grief, everything blurred together until it just felt like nothing at all.
She took a step back. “We should go,” she said flatly.
Roshan hesitated, looking from her to the woman on the bed, then nodded.
Amelia’s eyes turned pained. “Yes, I think that would be for the best. Come visit again, okay?”
Cass didn’t answer. She turned toward the door with Roshan on her heel, her steps mechanical, her hands trembling just enough to notice. Behind her, Joanne laughed at something on the TV; a light, airy sound that didn’t belong in the room at all.
Everything was too quiet, not even Roshan seemed to have something to say.
Cass had rushed out of the hospital, tripping a little down the stairs and not even bothering to apologize when the desk lady told her not to run inside. Neither Apollo kid had uttered a word while they were walking towards the bus station, the ride to New York was completely silent too. Roshan kept squirming in his seat but said nothing for the entire time they were on that bus, Cass had never seen him stay silent for more than a few minutes before.
“I’m sorry, the bus left a few minutes ago,” the woman didn’t even look at her while saying that.
“When will the next one be leaving?”
The woman stared at her as if she’d grown another head. “I think tomorrow morning.”
“But we can’t wait until tomorrow.”
“Then you better start walking now girl,” she said, turning back to the computer with an uninterested look.
Cass huffed with annoyance, her hands clenching and unclenching at her sides and leaving marks on her palms. Roshan squeezed her arm, a tired look on his face. She tried to smile but it came out as a grimace.
“Let’s go,” she told him as she spun on her heel and started walking towards the forest.
“Cass…” he hesitated, “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
She ignored him and kept walking along the edge of the forest. “There, a satyr path. Do you see it?” She pointed at a barely visible trail.
“Cass, we should go back.”
“But we’re almost there,” she snapped.
“Camp is still twenty miles away.”
Cass ignored him once more, walking into the forest without waiting for him. Roshan sighed and followed her, a shiver running down his back. Leaves and twigs crunched under their feet, the wind whistling between the trees and rays of light leaked through the tops of the trees.
They were ten miles in when the sun started coming down, tinting the scenery with a warm orange. The beautiful view only made Cass’s stomach tighten itself into knots, she hadn’t been outside of camp since she was ten years old, now night was falling and they weren’t safe yet. It was a miracle they hadn’t encountered any monsters yet, she hoped that wouldn’t change.
Something flashed in front of them and they froze. Cass could see Roshan’s hand reaching towards his backpack, her own hand tightening around her switchblade. Although she knew that if this was a monster, it wouldn’t be of much help.
“Today must be my lucky day,” a voice broke through the silence. “Not only one, but two children of light.”
Cass looked around, trying to pinpoint where the voice was coming from. “Who are you? Show yourself!” she demanded, trying to hide the slight tremble in her voice.
The voice laughed, mocking, an eerie sound that made her skin crawl. Roshan stepped closer towards her, his back against hers.
“You poor children,” a woman, paler than anyone Cass had ever seen surged from between the trees, “You both look so much like your father,” she said with a pitying expression.
Cass’s brow somehow managed to tick with annoyance at the reminder, even though the rest of her body was frozen with fear. “And you’re as white as a hotel towel,” she choked out.
The woman’s face turned hard, glaring at both teenagers. “That’s a pity, you both seemed so nice that I was about to reconsider. It’s nothing personal, but sometimes, you children have to carry the consequences of your parents’ mistakes,” she lunged before Cass could react, her hand outstretched towards her neck.
Roshan pushed her aside, meeting the woman’s hand with his blade. A few golden drops fell on the ground and the woman screeched, a sound so high Cass’s ears hurt. She could see the boy fending off the monster, she wanted to help but her feet were glued to the floor.
“I’ll eat you!” the woman screamed at Roshan with desperation. “And your lifeforce will finally let me be free from your father’s curse!” she said as she cackled like a maniac, her nails sharpening into claws.
A line of red started making its way down Roshan’s arm and Cass’s eyes sharpened, her senses going overdrive. She dashed towards the monster woman, Roshan’s eyes widened and his mouth opened but she didn’t get to hear what he wanted to say. The woman’s head snapped towards her and one of her arms lashed out, knocking her to the side and making her collide with a tree. The boy screamed her name, his voice filled with panic. She wanted to call out, say she was okay but her head felt fuzzy, as if it were filled with cotton.
Cass tried to get up but her limbs were trembling like jelly, her mouth felt dry and her vision unfocused. The woman screeched again and her ears began ringing. She needed to get up, Roshan needed her help, who was Roshan again?
She stood up, leaning heavily against the rough bark and her stomach lurched, the fight continuing in front of her as she gathered her bearings. Suddenly, the noise stopped. Her head snapped up, making her vision spin. Her breath caught in her throat.
The monster had Roshan trapped against a tree, a glowing hand tight around his neck. He was turning paler by the second, his skin turning a sickly gray. He kept struggling weakly, scratching at the woman’s arms until gold started spilling down. Cass caught his eye and he motioned weakly towards her, then she remembered Apollo’s gift. Her fingers unbuckled it quickly and she found herself holding a golden bow instead of a leather belt.
‘All you need is light,’ he’d said. She looked towards the sky, the sun was disappearing fast but she had to try anyway. She stretched her hand towards the dimming light and a thin arrow formed between her fingers, her stomach lurched again and she ignored it. She drew the bowstring back, her eyes struggling to focus on her target when there were two of everything, and the arrow cut through the air. The woman howled as she dissolved into golden dust, leaving just a white cloth that had been her dress.
Roshan fell to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut and she rushed forward, leaping to catch his head before it hit the ground. His eyes were dull and halfway closed, his cheeks sunken as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks; which was ridiculous because they’d eaten together just a few hours before. His arms were littered with bleeding slashes and she reached out to heal him but the light flickered between her trembling fingers.
Cass’s eyes began burning before tears spilled down her cheeks, carving paths through the dirt on her skin.
“Don’t cry, little sister,” he rasped out, though it was barely more than a whisper.
She made a choked noise as tears fell faster, her chest tightened with suppressed sobs. The light kept dying in her hand and Roshan’s injuries weren’t getting any better, but she had to keep trying.
“I’m sorry, you never liked it when I called you that,” he seemed unphased by Cass’s increasingly desperate attempts to heal him.
“No,” she choked out. “I like it; so please do it from now on, even at camp.”
Her sight got blurry and something warm started dripping down her nose, staining Roshan’s clothes with spots of red. Her ability wasn’t working, she was too tired and there wasn’t nearly enough light, but maybe… Her hands reached towards him again; and exactly as she remembered from years before, the angry gashes started disappearing from the boy’s skin and appearing in hers instead. Cass gritted her teeth against the pain and placed her hands to keep going, then a trembling hand encased her wrist.
“Stop that,” Roshan demanded weakly.
Cass’s breath stuttered at the look on his face, terrified and sad. A single tear ran down his temple and fell on the dirt below.
“Don’t, it’s not worth it and you know it.”
“No… no, no, no. I can do something, there must be something-“
“There isn’t,” he interrupted, “You’re the best healer I’ve met and I know you know it.”
And the thing was that she did know, but she didn’t want it to be true. Roshan had stopped shivering, and she knew he didn’t have much left.
“I’m not afraid,” he rasped out, reaching weakly for her hand, “I’ve always been curious about Elysium…”
She laughed wetly, more tears spilling out as she cupped his hand with both of hers and squeezed gently.
“I’m so happy… that you don’t hate me… anymore.”
“I never did,” Cass confessed.
Roshan smiled at her tiredly, tinged with pain and tiredness but somehow, it was the most radiant smile he’d ever given her. “I’m so glad,” he said as his eyes dulled even more, “let’s meet again, yeah?”
“Yeah,” she choked out through tears.
“Don’t join me… too soon though.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Roshan smiled tiredly at her, the corners of his mouth trembling. “I hope… you’ll be my sister… in the next life too,” he exhaled and his chest didn’t rise again, his head lolled to the side, eyes unfocused and unseeing.
Cass gasped in a ragged breath, her hands tightened over his cold hand for a second before letting go and leaning over to close his eyes. Hot tears ran down her face and she wanted to scream, but she knew better than that. The scent of demigod blood would attract monsters, she could not afford to make any loud noises; she also needed to move.
She stared at her brother, she couldn’t just leave him there. After a moment of thought, she wrapped Roshan in the spoil of war, her hands moving on their own, clumsy and shaking, folding the cloth around him like she was afraid he’d feel cold.
He didn’t. He was already cold.
Cass swallowed hard, hooked her arms under him, and lifted. Her knees nearly buckled. He was heavier than she expected, heavy in the wrong way, heavy in a way that felt final. She bit down on the sound rising in her throat and started walking. One step. Another. The forest blurred into shapes and colors. Her mind floated somewhere above her body, watching a girl dragging a wrapped shape through the trees. She didn’t know how long she walked; minutes, hours, the whole night. Her legs trembled with every step. Her breath came shallow, automatic.
Branches snapped to her right. Cass froze, clutching Roshan tighter. A figure emerged from the brush, hooves scraping against stone.
“Woah- woah, kid!” the satyr yelped, hands raising instinctively. “Are you- Cass?”
She blinked. The face was familiar. Curly hair, startled eyes, nervous energy. “Sylvester?” Her voice cracked. She hadn’t seen him in a long time, he looked older than she remembered.
He stared at her, then at the body in her arms. His pupils blew wide in shock. “Oh gods. Cass, what- what happened?” He moved toward her slowly, as if he thought she might break. “You shouldn’t be carrying him alone. You- you look like you’re about to drop.”
“I have to take him home,” she murmured. Her grip didn’t loosen.
Sylvester reached her gently, as if approaching a startled animal. “Let me help. Please. You’re shaking.”
Cass didn’t argue. She couldn’t. She just felt the weight leave her arms as Sylvester lifted Roshan with surprising care, the way someone might carry a fallen comrade. Her own arms hung limp at her sides, tingling.
“Camp’s not far,” he said softly. “Lean on me if you need to.”
She nodded once, dazed, and followed him, her steps uneven as they headed back towards the only place her brother had ever called home.
Everything was a blur after that moment, she barely remembered getting to camp, being told that Chiron wasn’t there and having to deal with Mr. D. She was now the oldest Apollo camper, which felt very wrong, like it didn’t really belong to her and she was just playing dress up in her brother’s clothes.
Reality escaped her like trying to grab smoke, time and people blurred until she couldn’t recognize anything. The belt Apollo had given her burned around her waist like lit coal, she hated violence and it was a reminder of her own weakness, of what she’d failed to save because of her own shortcomings. Distantly, she wondered if the god had given it to her because he knew she’d have blood on her hands.
Suddenly she was there, standing before a pyre built too carefully, too neatly, like a cruel imitation of order in a world that had just collapsed. The shroud wrapped around Roshan was pristine white, orange and yellow embroidery depicting the sunrise. Cass thought it fit him.
“Cass,” someone said softly, everything sounded muffled underwater. “We’re ready.”
She stepped forward without feeling her feet, someone tried to stop her but she shook them off; she placed trembling hands on the shroud, smoothing a wrinkle that didn’t matter anymore. Her arms burned as she moved, thick red scars banding her skin from wrist to shoulder, reminders she hadn’t earned, wounds she had stolen in desperation.
A torch was handed to her. She didn’t remember taking it. She barely registered the heat near her fingers, or the way everyone waited for her to speak, say something worthy, something beautiful. She had no words. Cass touched the flame to the pyre.
Fire tasted the cloth, caught, and consumed. The world flickered orange, and for a moment she thought she saw him sitting up, laughing, rolling his eyes at her, nudging her shoulder, but it was only the fire playing tricks on her exhausted mind. She knew her siblings were standing behind her, knew they wanted to comfort her, but she couldn’t find the strength to face them. Then it was over. Smoke curled into the sky. Roshan was gone.
The next thing she knew, she was in the attic of the Big House, handing the folded white cloth, what little remained of it, to Mr. D. His expression was unreadable, bored even, but he took it and tucked it away among the relics of other heroes. Cass stared at the spot where it rested, her throat closing.
“Counselor meeting,” someone muttered behind her. “Cabin Seven needs a new head.”
She followed them down automatically, her limbs heavy, mind fogged. The counselors gathered in the rec room, speaking in low voices. She couldn’t focus on their words until one suddenly cut through.
“Cassandra’s the oldest. The position is hers unless someone wants to challenge her.”
Her stomach hollowed out. “No.” She didn’t raise her voice; she didn’t need to. The refusal came out flat, thin, almost brittle. “No. I- I can’t, I shouldn’t.”
“But-”
“Pick someone else.” She forced the next bit out, each word scraping her throat raw. “I’m stepping down as co-counselor too.”
Silence fell, heavy and uncomfortable.
“Lee can do it.” She stared past all of them, at the far wall. It was easier than looking at their faces. “He’s better for it.”
“Cass,” someone said beside her, voice soft and worried. “You don’t have to-”
“I do.” Her voice cracked, but she didn’t take it back.
Her arms throbbed. The scars pulsed like ghost-pain even though the ambrosia had healed them.
In the end, they voted Lee in. The discussion continued around her, but she heard none of it. She sat still, hands folded in her lap, the smell of smoke still clinging to her hair, her clothes, her skin. Her brother’s ashes were cooling somewhere by the lake. And she still couldn’t feel anything at all.
Cass kept herself busy with work, spending whole days at the infirmary and ignoring the pang in her chest every time she expected Roshan to come out of the office only to see Lee walk out of it instead.
Days blurred. Then weeks. Then months.
Her siblings noticed, of course they did, but she kept herself at a distance with clipped answers and long hours. She worked until her eyes stung and her hands ached, treating scraped knees and training younger campers, replacing bandages, organizing herbs, anything that kept her moving. Anything that kept her from thinking. They stopped asking her to hang out after the first few attempts. The younger kids whispered about her being strange, and the older ones treated her with a cautious sort of respect she didn’t want. Cass didn’t correct any of them. It was easier that way.
When June rolled around, the air felt thick, danger humming somewhere just out of sight. One night she fell asleep hunched over a cot she’d been re-making, exhaustion finally dragging her under. She dreamt of a storm, clouds churning like a living thing, lightning crawling across the sky. And a boy. A silhouette. Running? Falling? She couldn’t see. Every time she reached closer, the dream cracked apart. She woke with her heart pounding and a strange certainty tightening her chest.
Two days later, she saw him.
Just a glimpse from across the pavilion, black hair sticking up at odd angles, bewildered but stubborn, like someone dropped into the world without instructions but determined to pretend he had some. Cass felt the cold ripple of recognition.
That’s him. She didn’t need a prophecy to know.
She didn’t approach. She had learned her lesson, being involved only brought pain. Let the gods choose their hero; she wasn’t stepping foot near whatever quest was brewing. But when the trident flared over his head during capture the flag, blue light bright over his head, every camper present gasped and Cass felt something like ice settle in her throat.
A kid. Younger than her. Being claimed by one of the Big Three.
She stared at him as the cabin erupted in whispers. Her stomach twisted. They were going to send him. And he had no idea what that meant. She hated the gods for it.
A day later, while she was restocking ambrosia squares and trying not to think, voices started floating in through the doorway, stopping just a few paces away. Then the boy himself stepped into the infirmary, awkward but alert, eyes flicking around as if expecting danger to jump from behind a cabinet. When his gaze finally landed on her, it lingered, longer than most people managed.
“Hey…” he said awkwardly.
Cass raised an eyebrow and he began fidgeting nervously.
“Chiron said… you’d give me some ambrosia for the trip?”
She sighed softly. “Sure,” she agreed reluctantly and started preparing a small bag.
The boy stayed by the doorway. “I’m Percy.”
“I know.”
“Oh…”
An awkward silence fell. Cass pretended her hands weren’t trembling with contained rage.
“You’re her,” he said suddenly. Not rude, not accusing. Just stating what he saw. “The prophetess people talk about.”
Cass tensed. “People talk too much.”
He gave her a small shrug. “They say you… see things. That you helped during the winter solstice.”
That was not even remotely true, she was busy running away, gossip was getting out of hand. She handed him a pouch of ambrosia without meeting his eyes. “Rumors. Camp’s full of them.”
He didn’t leave.
Instead, he asked, “Is there anything you can tell me? I’m not- I don’t know what I’m doing. But everyone keeps acting like I should.”
Cass finally looked at him. Really looked. A scared kid trying to be brave.She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I can’t really give you anything. I don’t want the gods’ attention on me.”
Percy nodded slowly, accepting it without pushing. “Okay. I figured. But… thanks anyway.”
She hesitated, then added, almost whispering, “Just- be careful. Seriously. This quest… it won’t be easy.”
His expression tightened, but he nodded again. “Yeah. I thought so.”
He turned to leave, shoulders squared but not steady. Cass watched him walk out of the infirmary, dread curling deep in her chest; cold, familiar dread. The gods were moving pieces again. Sending children into battles they didn’t understand. And all she could do was watch another doomed hero walk away.
She got more and more worried as the days went on. Rumors about war started circling around camp and unrest started rising. She tried to keep her siblings from it, she should have known how hard it was to keep children from fighting.
Fight between cabins meant injured campers, which translated to work for her. Most of her time was spent distributing ambrosia for minor injuries, bandaging sprained ankles and lecturing younger campers about skewering friends.
“Are you… okay?”
Lee spun on his heel so fast he almost fell backwards. “Oh, it’s you.”
Cass smiled pityingly at him. There were dark circles under his eyes, he looked like he hadn’t slept in days… which was probably true.
“Another fight?” she asked with dread.
“Yeah, do you- could you call Chiron for me?”
Cass sighed, tightening her grip on the nectar jar in her hands. Lee looked about ready to collapse, and if anyone needed a break, it was him. “Sure. I’ll go.”
“Thanks,” he breathed, rubbing his eyes. “I owe you one.”
“You owe me several,” she muttered, but her voice was gentle. Lee managed a tired smile before turning back toward where he was going.
Cass jogged off in the direction of the big house, her stomach sinking with every step. More fights. More injuries. More tension she didn’t want to touch. Every day felt like a rubber band pulled tighter and tighter, and she wasn’t sure what would snap first, the campers or her own nerves.
The path curved behind the armory, and Cass slowed. She didn’t hear shouting anymore. Just… voices. One voice, actually. A familiar one. She frowned and stepped closer, boots crunching quietly over pine needles. Then she froze.
Luke Castellan stood on the porch of the Big House, a shimmering Iris Message flickering in front of him. Sunlight hit the mist just right, throwing rainbow fragments across the trees. Cass ducked behind a cedar, heart skipping.
“Chiron had to break up a fight,” Cass scoffed quietly, she had been breaking up the fights. “Things are pretty tense here, Percy. Word leaked out about the Zeus-Poseidon standoff. We’re still not sure how- probably the same scumbag who summoned the hellhound. Now the campers are starting to take sides. It’s shaping up like the Trojan war all over again. Aphrodite, Ares and Apollo,” she scoffed again, “are backing Poseidon, more or less. Athena is backing Zeus.”
Percy said something from the other side, but she was too far away to hear. Cass wondered what was the point of Luke telling the younger boy all that, the point of lying. Percy was clearly barely keeping his head above the water (hah) as it was, he didn’t need Luke to saddle him with this too. Luke kept spouting nonsense and if she felt enraged and afraid, something was very wrong.
“... Hades has the helm of darkness. How could anybody else sneak into the throne room and steal the master bolt? You’d have to be invisible-” he cut off abruptly, but to Cass it looked practiced.
“Oh, hey. I didn’t mean Annabeth. She and I have known each other forever. She would never… she’s like a little sister to me.”
Cass fisted her trembling hands on her shorts. Luke was clearly trying to frame Annabeth, but why? Her heart started pounding as she remembered the dream she’d had the night she escaped from Olympus.
“-tell Grover it’ll be better this time! Nobody will get turned into a tree if he just-” the mist dissolved and Luke cursed.
Cass’s pulse spiked. She shouldn’t be hearing this. She didn’t mean to hear this. But her feet wouldn’t move. Luke shifted, face illuminated by the sunlight. He looked… angrier than she’d ever seen him. Harder. More dangerous. A harsh contrast to the boy who had been speaking to Percy just a moment before.
Suddenly, he turned. His eyes locked on Cass instantly. She barely had time to gasp before he lunged, steel whispered free of a scabbard, and suddenly the tip of a sword hovered inches from her throat.
“Luke-” she choked out, raising her hands.
The older teen startled and lowered the sword slightly, he laughed nervously but his eyes were sharp. “I’m sorry, you startled me for a second. How long have you been standing there?”
Cass stumbled back, breath hitching. “Lee sent me, there’s a fight. I-I was looking for Chiron-”
His gaze raked over her like he was calculating something, whether she was a threat, whether she’d heard too much, whether killing her would solve the problem. Cass hid her trembling hands in her pockets.
Finally, Luke retracted the blade, sliding it back into its sheath with a sharp, metallic click. “Next time,” he said, a charming smile on his face, “don’t sneak up on people. It’s dangerous.”
“I’ll be sure to remember that,” she agreed quickly.
“Make sure you do,” he replied with a wink, “I think Chiron is by the lake.”
Cass nodded quickly and walked off, then she ran. Branches slapped at her arms, her breath tearing out of her in gasps as she barreled towards the lake. She didn’t dare look back; she didn’t want to see the expression Luke wore now that the message was gone.
She burst out of the forest, lungs burning, pulse erratic. War rumors, fights, injuries; none of that frightened her as much as the look she’d seen in Luke’s eyes. She could say something, she should. But she was too afraid.
Cass placed a hand on her chest and tried to calm her breathing. She needed to find Chiron, there was a fight to break up after all.
The weird weather that had been going on for months started to settle and Cass breathed out a sigh of relief. Percy had succeeded; which meant he’d survived, right?
Apparently, yes. Campers poured out of the cabins as word spread, Percy was back. He’d stopped the war, returned the Master Bolt, survived monsters and gods and quests no twelve-year-old should ever face.
That night, camp buzzed with an energy Cass hadn't seen all summer. One of her siblings dragged out a lyre, someone else brought food from the pavilion, and before long half the camp was singing off-key around a bonfire. She missed her harp, and wondered if she even knew how to play anymore. Cass stood on the edges, watching from the shadows. She was glad, truly, that everyone was safe. But celebrations weren’t her thing, and every time she saw a cluster of cabins whispering, she tensed, expecting another fight to break out.
By the time she slipped into bed, exhaustion tugged her under immediately. The same dream she’d been having for weeks.
Something skittering. Something clicking. The glint of a stinger arching over her, too fast- A black shape lunged-
Cass jolted awake, gasping. Her heart hammered so violently she almost reached for her knife. But the dream slipped away like water as she tried to grasp it, leaving her only with the sickening certainty that something terrible was about to happen. She wished she knew what.
Morning came cold and gray. Summer was ending. Campers packed duffels and hugged friends and promised to keep in touch. Cass watched them from her cabin steps, feeling that strange hollow ache again. She’d never say it aloud, but part of her wished she could be one of them, someone who could just…go home. Someone whose mother waited with open arms instead of cold silence and psychotic outbursts.
She sighed, turning away- screams split the air. Cass froze, then sprinted outside. Nymphs were rushing across the clearing, dragging someone between them. Someone limp. Someone bleeding. It was freaking Percy Jackson.
Lee barreled out of the Apollo cabin beside her, nearly colliding with her. “Oh gods- come on, help me!”
They ran. Cass ducked under Percy’s arm with Lee, the four of them half-carrying, half-dragging him toward the Big House. His skin was cold. Too cold. His breaths were shallow, rattling.
“What happened?” Lee shouted at the nymphs.
“Scorpion!” one cried, her voice breaking. “In the forest- it-it stung him before we could-”
Cass didn’t hear the rest. Her pulse roared in her ears. The dream. The shape. The stinger-
Chiron burst onto the porch, eyes wide. “Bring him inside!”
The next minutes blurred: Lee cutting away Percy’s shirt, Cass pressing ambrosia to his lips, Chiron barking instructions, nymphs running for nectar, for compresses, for anything that might keep him alive. The poison was spreading too fast.
Cass knelt beside him, hands trembling as she tried to focus. She reached for her ability, for the warmth that pulsed somewhere deep in her chest. Percy’s flicker was weak. The poison was smothering it like smoke.
“Come on,” she whispered, forcing her panic down. “Come on, don’t you dare. Someone has to save us all and it’s not gonna be me.”
They worked for hours. And when they were finally forced to step back and wait, Cass’s legs gave out and she fell asleep on the floor. Percy lived, but only barely.
The next few days felt wrong, like camp had been knocked off its axis. Some campers cried in small groups. Others snapped at each other in the dining pavilion. Chiron wore that tired, ancient sadness that made Cass’s chest hurt to look at. Luke was gone. They all knew it.
And even though no one said it out loud, Cass kept hearing her own cowardice echoing in her skull. She could still feel the way Luke’s gaze had frozen her in place weeks ago, how his blade had caught the light, how she’d backed away instead of stepping forward, instead of telling anyone what she’d seen, sensed, felt.
The younger Apollo kids flocked to her whenever they were scared or confused, clinging to her sleeves as if she were their mother, asking if everything would be okay. Cass tried. She really did. She patted heads awkwardly, handed out honey candy, mumbled reassurances she didn’t believe. But she wasn’t good at this. Comfort felt foreign on her tongue. And the guilt sat so heavily on her chest she could barely breathe some nights.
Maybe… maybe if she hadn’t been such a coward, they could have stopped him. Maybe Chiron or Annabeth or someone smarter, braver, older could have intervened. Instead, Luke had slipped through all their fingers. And Cass could only watch the Hermes cabin from afar and wonder what would have changed if she hadn’t run.
Notes:
TW:
Minor character death
Terminal and mental illness
Apollo
gods in general actuallyYes, I used the 'satyr path' concept from the show, I think it's cool okay? ;-;
Curious fact: purple scrubs (like Amelia's) often signify specialized roles in hospitals, such as surgical technologists, oncology nurses, or mental health professionals, and are associated with qualities like empathy and care.Thank you for y'alls support, sadly I dont think I'll be able to update until late december, thank you for your patience. Comments and kudos are appreciated <3
H L Ferrier (promethean_scrollsmith) on Chapter 1 Fri 31 Oct 2025 08:55PM UTC
Comment Actions
cloudy_mood on Chapter 1 Sat 01 Nov 2025 01:03AM UTC
Comment Actions
H L Ferrier (promethean_scrollsmith) on Chapter 1 Sat 01 Nov 2025 08:57PM UTC
Comment Actions
Ab_rilAHHH on Chapter 1 Sat 01 Nov 2025 12:22PM UTC
Comment Actions
cloudy_mood on Chapter 1 Sat 01 Nov 2025 05:54PM UTC
Comment Actions
Rainshyier on Chapter 1 Sat 01 Nov 2025 03:42PM UTC
Comment Actions
Ab_rilAHHH on Chapter 2 Sun 16 Nov 2025 02:16AM UTC
Comment Actions
cloudy_mood on Chapter 2 Sun 16 Nov 2025 02:33AM UTC
Comment Actions
H L Ferrier (promethean_scrollsmith) on Chapter 2 Sun 16 Nov 2025 02:19AM UTC
Comment Actions
H L Ferrier (promethean_scrollsmith) on Chapter 2 Sun 16 Nov 2025 07:36AM UTC
Comment Actions
H L Ferrier (promethean_scrollsmith) on Chapter 2 Sun 16 Nov 2025 07:48AM UTC
Last Edited Sun 16 Nov 2025 12:45PM UTC
Comment Actions