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Chapter Text

Kronos roared in agony as his children began to tear at his body. Defeated and now to be thrown to Tartarus in pieces, the old king locked eyes with his youngest son. The Stone Brat was looking so proud at his father’s folly.

“I curse you!” Kronos croaked with ichor staining each word. “I curse you, my ungrateful spawn! Olympians…You-Never…Never shall you extend your line without suffering. You shall never sire or bear hale children. Should you manage to engender any, each breath they draw with be in pain. Their existence shall drain you of your power and leave you weak and pained. Let your children rot and suffer within your arms! May you birth monsters and misery and feel regret a thousand times over for each loss!”

His children all rushed to silence the titan king quickly. His last words cursing the six of his children as Tartarus swallowed his broken remnants.

The Kronides left the battlefield victorious but uneasy. The echoing words of their father following them.

The first to test the validity of the curse was Zeus. Though not intentionally at first.

 With the prophecy that a son of Métis would overthrow him; His queen turned herself into a fly and willingly allowed Zeus to consume her to prevent such a thing.

This act no matter how willing, did not endear Zeus to his siblings.

“Please tell us if you intend to devour any other relations.” Poseidon joked awkwardly, “So that we may prepare appropriately sized stones.”

His siblings kept careful distance from their brother and king for some time after that. And in his loneliness and regret Zeus wished for a child; A daughter. One as wise and clear thinking as the titaness whom he had loved and consumed- Métis- who had helped him save his siblings and sacrificed herself to him.

Zeus ached with that desire. Pushed all his divine power into that thought as he yearned for a child. Her hair would be light and wild as Métis’, with her stormy sea eyes and his strong nose. Her voice would soft but firm. Her council clear and sound.

Zeus dreamed of the daughter he wished for so dearly.

In the coming days, Zeus believed that the ache building in his head was from stress and want. He had become fearful that he was becoming like his father. Worried that he would develop a taste for others and become the monster he had worked so hard to overthrow.

But the ache did not stop. It built into a great and terrible pain. Blinding him with it’s intensity. Nausea swelled to the point that Zeus could neither stand nor see. His wary siblings stood gathered around him as he lay prone in agony before them. All of them unsure of what to do to help him (Part of Zeus was fearful that they were unwilling to aid him, not unable).

In desperation and blinded by pain, Zeus reached a hand out to Poseidon. “Brother, your trident, please…”

Poseidon raised his weapon but was unable to strike his younger brother despite Zeus wailing in agony. Finally, Hades stepped forward and took the trident in his hand and with a mighty blow, Split Zeus’s skull and silenced his cries.

(Hades would later drift away from his siblings on Olympus because of this act. Choosing to become a recluse in his own realm and rarely show face on the sacred mountain. Ashamed and regretful of the jagged scar he had placed on his brother’s brow.)

The goddess Athena came tumbling out of the open wound. Fully grown and armored. Her mother who had formed her within Zeus’ head, followed her.

At first there was joy; At the birth of a new goddess, at the return of Métis. But the newly born goddess had been held fast by Krono’s curse.

Athena was thin and sickly. Her limbs both thin and fragile. Her eyes wide and sensitive to light. She struggled to catch her breath. The armor in which she had emerged wearing was too large and too heavy for her to bear. Zeus stripped the heavy bracers and breastplate from her. Athena shrieking as the act broke her hollow bones.

This new goddess, with no domain of her own, drew power from the injured Zeus to sustain herself. Each breath the weak Athena took was pulled from Zeus’ lungs. Leaving him as breathless as his new child. Still, Athena was fading quickly. Her life to be short and agonizing.

Métis, in maternal desperation, relinquished her domain of wisdom so that her daughter could go on without draining power from Zeus. In losing her domain of wisdom, the titaness Métis faded from the world. But Athena’s pitiful whimpers and newborn cries ceased to gentle sleep, her new domain settling.

Zeus held his newly born and fragile daughter close. Ichor flowing from the still gaping wound left in the center of his brow and dripping over father and child. She stayed clutched against Zeus’s chest for days until her breath became steady. He kept his Athena close even after she could stand tall; letting none of his siblings near until she could stand on her own. (Even centuries after, Athena was always the goddess kept close to Zeus’ side)

There was joy and celebration throughout Olympus as Athena took her first firm steps on her own. Her father’s hands held open nearby in case she were to stumble. The Kronides became encouraged by her existence, though the cautious Hera made them all swear not to risk siring another child without telling the rest.

Poseidon attempted to have a child next. He and his wife Amphitrite had a son after much pain. Poseidon writhed in agony at his birth. Coastlines wrecked and reshaped again and again as he struggled. But the infant who was born with weak lungs and delicate skin. A touch would cause bruises to blossom on him.

Poseidon hurried to hide his child beneath the oceans waves. Keeping the fragile infant close to him and protected from all threats. Refusing to bring him to Olympus to meet with the others. With great sacrifice Poseidon carved the domain of Waves from himself and into Triton’s control, cementing his son’s existence into the world. Triton, quickly obtaining the domain as messenger of the seas as well.

Triton stabilized slowly. Becoming a god in his own right; though never as strong as his divine father. Showing all that in order to bring a divine child to the world; the gods have to sacrifice part of their own divinity. Weakening themselves to strengthen their offspring.

Poseidon later had daughters with his wife Amphitrite and the goddess Aphrodite, each time carefully planning and preparing domains for each of them. Thankfully the sea was abundant in it’s domains and he had many to offer to his own children without losing too much of his own strength. (Amphitrite also petitioned her own grandfather, Oceanus to grant domains to some of her children when Nereus could not help to support their ascension.)

Later, Zeus was again tempted to produce a child. Secretly colluding with the titaness Leto- whom held the domain of motherhood and child bearing- to create another child for himself

With a mixing of ichor between the two; Zeus swallowed half the mixture at the height of the bright full moon. But was overcome with swaying sickness before he could finish the rest. 9 days of endless thundering shook the world as Zeus swayed and moaned in pain before he could finish the rest of the concoction. The sun peering out through the clouds as he finished the drink.

Zeus wailed again as waves of pain filled his limbs. His hands ached with agony at the joints of his fingers and wrists. He fell to the floor again with pain. Tears of golden ichor fell down his cheeks.

Hera, his queen, was furious with the titaness Leto many reasons. For not drinking the mixture herself, for colluding with Zeus and risking his health again, for not telling her of their intention of child-making. In her anger, Hera banished Leto from Olympus and tended to the prone and miserable Zeus herself.

The ichor stained tears that Zeus wept gathered in Hera’s hands, forming into two twins. A boy and a girl. The boy glowing gold and the girl silver. Their divine forms flickering weakly but they moved like wild beasts. The twins disappeared down the paths of Olympus and into the wilds before any of the gods could catch them.

Zeus wailed in misery when Hera told him. The only proof of their continued existence was the continual draw on his power. From the bottom of Mount Olympus, hearing Zeus’ cries and learning her unseen children’s fates, Leto’s tearful wails echoed throughout Greece forcing others to weep and cry alongside her and Zeus.

Hera felt so contrite from her banishment of Leto from Olympus- blaming herself for the loss of her husbands’ precious twins- that she conspired with Poseidon to create the sanctuary island Delos, for Leto to withdraw to and grieve in private.

Months passed of Zeus grieving and wailing on Olympus, curling himself around Athena while his siblings searched the world below for their lost niece and nephew.

Then to the misery of all Zeus felt the drain of his power ease. His twins were weakening. They were dying! And he could not find them! Perhaps one of his children were already dead! His wails were thunderclaps that shook the world. His tears became torrents of flooding rain.

And then the rest of the drain stopped.

The king was inconsolable. His children were gone. Lost to the wilds forever.

Olympus joined him in the grief. Storms raged unending, earthquakes rattled the ground, darkness, famine, and misery plagued the world.

Then, joyfully. The twins returned.

Their arrival was heralded by the Moon Selena and the Sun Helios crossing paths. Darkening the world in gentle shadow as the twins arrived on Olympus.

Phoebus Apollon and Agreia Artemis arrived on Olympus silently. Appearing quietly at their still weeping father’s side. None noticed them before Apollon let out a trilling song of welcome. Sounding light and cheerful as a bird. His hair fluffy feathers of gold. His quiet sister Artemis, did not join his song but stood upright and proud before him. Her skin dappled as a fawn.

Zeus threw himself from his throne to gather his twins into his arms. Surprised at their survival and overjoyed as he learned that his wild twins sought out and secured their own domains. Apollo told the tale of their ascension.

The twins wildly exploring the world together after their birth. Artemis obtaining the domain of hunting with her superior tracking abilities. Apollo earning the domain of herdsmen after tending to a lost flock they came across. Knowledge came to Apollo with their travels as well.  

Later, the twins ran afoul the great Beast Python. With fierce determination the two worked together to defeat the beast securing the domain of archery to share between them. Apollon slaying the dragon Python and taking his domain of prophecy.

Zeus and his siblings were overjoyed at their arrival. A feast was prepared and held for the new gods of Olympus. The twins of Civilization and Wilderness.

Later Hades too attempt to sire a son or daughter of his own. However, unlike Zeus and his two precious daughters Athena, Artemis and his shining son Apollo. And unlike the blessed Poseidon’s capable son Triton and his formidable daughters Kymopleia, Rhodes, Eirene, and Benthesikyme; Hades could not beget a child of his own.

Again and again Hades was racked with pains from his attempts. But again and again the divine children born from him would crumble in his palms into ash and shadow. Never taking full breaths.

The repeated losses caused the Eldest son of Kronos to withdraw further from Olympus and his siblings. Hiding himself away in his kingdom of the Underworld.

Hades would carefully memorize the features of his stillborn children before they fell away in his hands. And once in his kingdom, he would gently sculpt clay and stone into small effigies of his lost babes. The numerous small stone statues would be gently set in a sacred vault in his castle and the King of the Dead would often wander through the paths made of the royal cemetery of divine chthonic babies. Murmuring soft lullabies and whispers of love and adoration to the children he could not keep.

Hera too attempted to have children. Zeus was ever attentive to his bedridden wife as flashes of agonizing fire lanced up and down her body. Hera’s temper already so thin gave way to the fiercest of rages.

Ares was born of his mothers’ screaming blood rage. The gods, now readily prepared for a new gods arrival had the domain of War and Battle prepared for him. His mother’s fiery temper and his father’s commanding presence bolstering his swift ascension.
Ares burned brightly in his mother’s hold the few moments before the domains settled. Hera’s hands were scorched by her son’s blazes.

Zeus, so joyful at his second son, was equally despaired at his queens’ injuries. He forbade Hera from attempting such again.

But Hera in her want of motherhood, soon attempted another birth; This time in secret. But this time without her siblings knowledge of her attempt, Hera had to stifle her cries of birth and her siblings had no domains to offer her newborn. Hera held her second flame-haired son and her hands-already so frail from Are’s birth blaze- lost their grip. The infant Hephaestus went tumbling down the mountain while his mother was stuck mute by the agony of her pains and the fierce draw on her power.

Zeus and Hestia came across the prone Hera. The queen mutely gesturing toward the cliff where her baby fell.

Zeus called upon his children to aid him in helping Hera while Hestia descended from the mountain to search for and save the child.

Hephaestus was a pitiful thing. But Hestia cuddled him close anyway as she climbed back up the mountain. Her hearth flame tempering the raging forces inherited from his mother. Hestia gentled the child’s domains into creation and crafting. Easing the agony of her sister Hera.

Seeing and knowing the pains of birth and child-loss, Hestia declared that she would never risk the pain of a child being loss to her, taking a vow of eternal maidenhood.

Seeing the wisdom and practicality of such, (and being much afraid after witnessing Hera’s distress and pains at Ares and Hephaestus’ birth) Athena and Artemis followed their aunt in the same vow.

Hera’s other attempts for children were agonizing and painful failures. So much so she  was bedridden with grief. Her cheeks carved with her burning tears.

Zeus, after multiple losses and satisfied with three sons and two daughters. Decided he would not sire more children for a time. However, The Pleiades, Maia was an ambitious woman and desired a god-born child. Knowing the consequences of divine birth, she knew that Zeus would never agree to risk such things to beget her a child. So secretly one night, Maia crept into the gods bedchamber and while Zeus and Hera slept, she pricked Zeus’ ankle and collected a bowl of ichor. With the stolen essence in hand, Maia fled from the mountain to a cave of Cyllene without notice from anyone.

It was not until Zeus began to feel weak and hazy-headed that he realized what had happened. He was bed bound and demanded that his children search out their missing sibling before they faded from the world.

Apollo, Artemis, Ares, Hephaestus, and Athena all searched far and wide for the missing infant.

Maia hidden in Cyllene, was equally drained from the birth of her Hermes. Carving her cleverness and quick hands into a domain for her child eased the drain only slightly (and prompting a frightened and thundering wail from Zeus on Olympus).  The Pleiades was left prone on the cave floor. Her mouth muted and her hands numb and curled into useless stumps while her fragile son toddled out of the entrance.

Thankfully Maia’s cleverness had settled quickly in Hermes. With quick hands he slew a tortoise and arranged a strange device. Then he wandered afield and found Apollos herd of sacred red-cattle. Hermes, thinking it a fine gift to bolster his mother’s strength, herded the cattle back home (After switching the direction of the cattle’s hooves to hide their path from any following).

Apollo for his part, did discover the theft of his cattle quickly but was preoccupied with searching for his missing sibling. Hermes had returned to the cattle field in search of straggling cows and was caught by Apollo.

At first the little god pretended not to know where the cattle were. Pretending to be a mortal child, he worked at distracting Apollo with a long and rambling story and showing Apollo his tortoise-shelled lyre he had crafted. Apollo was tricked at first, finding himself agreeing to trade his caduceus to the boy in exchange with the lyre.

It was only after Hermes felt the domain of Trickery and Trade settle within him that Apollo understood the deception of the trade and to whom he made it with.

Pleased with the discovery of his new brother, Apollo quickly worked to bolster his strength, gifting Hermes the domain of communication and travel as well. Hermes, gave his new shell instrument he had made and Apollo discovered the domain of music and art with it.

The two brothers were pleased to meet and discover new domains together, and Apollo whisked Hermes to Olympus.

Zeus who had begun to weep with the loss of the drain of his power and assuming his stolen child had faded, was pleased beyond words at the sight of Apollo bringing his brother home. Hermes did not however, fly into his father’s open arms. Instead he bartered for clemency for his mother’s crime and offered to act as his father’s messenger in exchange.

So eager to welcome his son, Zeus agreed. Adding the domain of Divine messenger to Hermes to welcome him to Olympus.

Hera was less pleased and once again banished the mother of her husband’s child from Olympus. Declaring that Maia would not be punished for her crime officially, but she must never leave Cyllene (Though she had endeavored to send nature spirits and nymphs to attend Maia in her eternal palace on the mountain.).

Centuries later, Demeter desired a child as well. She begged her brother’s support in having a child of her own. Zeus cautioned her against it, not wishing to see his elder sister in pain of childbirth or agony of the loss of a child. But Demeter was adamant in her desire. After many words of warning, Zeus reluctantly gave Demeter his blessing to try.

At her birth, Persephone was a frail as a flower petal. Her skin soft and thin. Her hair wispy and white. Her eyes the color of milkweed. Like Poseidon had with Triton, Demeter fled to her domain of power. Hiding herself in Fields of golden wheat.

Eventually, Demeter learned to withstand the draining and withering cold she suffered with Persephone’s birth and existence. And she loved her precious, fragile daughter. The goddess of the Harvest endeavored to find a domain for her daughter. But even after the domain of flowering green was settled. Persephone remained frail. Her skin thin. Her breath faint. Her life draining to sustain itself through her mother.

 And wary of losing  her precious flower child to any dangers in the world, Demeter kept her close and hidden from sight. Keeping Persephone isolated in a secure and sacred grove of her own design. Occupying her time with caring for and admiring daisies and lilacs. Soft and gentle blooms. With Demeter returning to Olympus and suffering the drain of her daughter’s existence with a stoicism that belied the constant exhaustion and chills that chased up and down her spine

It was there in that grove where Hades met Persephone.

Hades though he had withdrawn from Olympus and only rarely visited his siblings, still found himself wandering the mortal lands above out of interest and boredom occasionally.

And during one of these wandering, he came across Persephone. At first startled by the appearance of a stranger, Persephone quickly warmed to company that was not her mother or her flowers. And Hades was so desperate for a child of his own that a wild thought took root. Such as that he attempted to lure the child of his sister into the depths of his kingdom.

But poor Persephone had barely stepped from her mother’s sacred grove when she collapsed into Hades arms. Feeling her strength returning, in horror, Demeter had raced from Olympus. The urgency of her departure causing her siblings to follow her.

Hades was found at the edge of Demeters’ grove; Cradling armfuls of discolored and dried flower petals.

The bleakness of Demeter’s grief was shown in frigid famines sweeping over the lands as she secluded herself in her daughter’s grove. Now her private graveyard.

It was only after months of mourning that Hestia could draw Demeter back to the hearth of Olympus and breathe warmth back into the land. Though the once strong bond between Hades and Demeter as siblings was now ever frayed and stained by Persephone’s death. 

The Gods would try again to sire children to share in eternity with them. And after much loss…Zeus cast his gaze to mortals.

The attempts to father (and mother) children with mortals ended in disaster and grief. Babes would be born twisted and deformed. Born with hooves, tusks, scales, gills. Aspects of their immortal parent but…wrong. Hooves would be a fragile as fingernails and never harden. The muscles twisted and frayed unable to ever stand. Gills would not connect to lungs. Wings would be so heavy on the babes back that the bones would tear through the thin newborn flesh.

The infants born as such never lived long. Each moment of their life agony and misery. Their godly parents unable to do anything but weep over their weak struggles before their little hearts gave out.

Some luckier babes never breathed at all and never suffered the pains of life. (These infants tore at their hearts all the same.) With their perfectly formed faces, all accounted for fingers and toes, chubby cheeks and tiny noses. But pale and blue; Born dead into their parents hands.

There were other gods, born but never grown. Only to be tearfully kissed and swaddled by their parents before being laid to rest in the eternal graveyard of the gods.

Of the mortal born; Only one ever succeeded in surviving his birth, growth, and ascension to godhood. Through much trials and tribulation, was Dionysus. His mother becoming ash. Zeus desperate and half mad with grief entombing the babe in his own flesh to grow. Dionysus after many struggles, managed to obtain the domains of Revelry and Madness and leaving his father with an excessive and unrecoverable limp from his birth.

But no other mortal born succeeded.

Yet even as failure after failure continued, the gods never lost hope. Painful but enticing hope kept them trying. Even as grief corroded their empathy and kindness. What sympathy could Poseidon muster for mortals as another flood devastated the coast when another of his babies failed to thrive? What gentleness could Demeter give for starving mortals as she mourned her withered children? What pity could Apollo gather in himself as cities fell to plagues roused by his heartbreak at yet another still and tiny body was pressed into his hands?

Mortals knew their gods were mournful beings and fierce-some ones as well. Worship was done fearfully. Prayers for healthy babes were given each day for the gods. Hopes that the birth of a living child for the gods would ease their anger and cool their ire.

Centuries and centuries of fruitless prayers. Endless years of countless losses. After so many broken wishes and unresolved hopes…

Fate finally took action…

Chapter Text

Katie Gardner: Camp Half Blood

Katie finished the last of the checklist off for the cabin cleaning before handing the clipboard over to her second in command, Miranda. “This is everything.”

“Got it. Where’re you going next year?” Miranda (unlike Katie) was a year-rounder and took over the cabin counselor duties for her while Katie went home for the school year and to stay with her dad.

“Our lady of Perpetual Sorrow. All Girls Catholic School.”

Miranda winced sympathetically. “Ouch. That sucks.”

“Yeah. It has a uniform and everything.” Katies’ nose scrunched unhappily at the idea.

“Gross. You need some extra seeds? Mitchell got some stinging nettles stashed away.”

Katie hesitated for a second before nodding. Technically the Demeter kids weren’t allowed to keep what Chiron considered ‘overly dangerous’ plants, but what the Centaur didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“Stock up on some Oleander and Foxglove for us?” Miranda asked. Katies’ dad ran a modest plant nursery in Kentucky so she sometimes came back to camp with extras that she was able to slip into the store order forms during the school year.

“Yeah. I’m hoping to get some Giant Hogweed between the Elephant ear orders.”

“Nice.”

Katie turned away from her half-sister to zip up her duffel bag and accepted the tiny ziplock baggie of seeds Miranda pulled from Mitchell’s trunk. “I’ll see you next summer.”

“I’ll keep the cabin from falling apart.”

Katie left the cabin and followed the flow of other summer campers as they left camp to the hill down to where the mortal parents had congregated in their cars to collect their kids.

Dad was waiting next to his green nursery truck with “Gardner’s Grove” branded on the side of it. “Hey Sprout. How was Summer?”

“It was Summer.” Katie said with a shrug, “We won capture the flag though.”

“That’s exciting!” Her dad was as chipper as ever. His hair may have had a few more grays than it did when Katie left for camp but he was still the same as ever. Friendly and supportive with that steady calm that Katie wished she could emulate. Her dad was never resentful of Demeter leaving Katie at the nursery doorstep. Never mad at being saddled with a kid he didn’t plan for. He was a small-town decent man with a heart of gold.

Katie hated that she couldn’t be a better daughter. She hated that her childhood temper tantrums nearly bankrupted him when she caused the plants at the store to wither or grow out of control. She hated that she kept getting kicked out of schools because of her distractions, or poor grades, or random monster nonsense. She hated that she left the nursery right during the busy season just to go to a summer camp and train. She wished she could just grow gold or something for her dad and let him live the care free easy life that he deserved to live for being the best dad ever.

But dad never complained about how hard life was. He never raised his voice at anyone. He never treated Katie like she was anything but the most important thing in his life.

“How has the nursery been?”

“Business has been good. We got a few weddings in the next few months. This one crazy lady wanted ‘natural blue roses’ for her ceremony. I tried showing her some lavender tinted ones and she pulled out this picture of this bright electric raspberry blue rose that was literally plastic. I almost had to call the cops over the tantrum she threw at me when I told her they were fake.”

Katie giggled at the idea. She pictured some city chick coming into the store, screaming and flipping around a printed photo of a plastic flower demanding ‘fresh blue roses’ while her dad just stared at her with his patented customer service deadpan.

“I also got you a surprise at home.” Dad smiled as Katie perked up at the thought.

“What is it?! What?”

“It’s not a surprise if I tell you before we get there, Sprout.”

“Daddy!” Katie whined but the smile of her face made her Dad laugh along with her.

“Well, it’s a twelve hour trip. Wanna pick the music for us?”

Katie grinned and reached for the radio. “‘Course! If I let you pick, we’ll have to listen to country music the whole way there!”

Katie jolted awake as Dad opened her car door. It was dark outside and they were parked in a motel parking lot. “Sorry Sprout, thought I could getcha in without waking ya.” Dad’s hands were still half reaching out toward her as Katie stretched the mild aches from napping in the car.

“S’okay dad…” Katie yawned. “Pit stop?”

“Can’t drive and snore at the same time. We’ll be back on the road in the morning. They even have breakfast here.” Her dad caught her yawn and laughed through his. “We’ll get some sleep and be home by lunch tomorrow.”

“Sweet.” Katie’s eyes dropped as she helped her dad grab at the bag in the truck bed. A shadow in the corner of her eye had Katie spinning around. Sleepiness gone. Shoulders tense. Eyes darting around the parking lot.

“Sprout? You okay?” Dad was standing at the driver’s side door. He didn’t move. Unsure of what his daughter had noticed. Katie scanned the parking lot. It was dark and hard to see. The moon was new so the only light was the flickering street light in the corner. Illuminating the small patch of trees more than the lot itself. Nothing moved. Katie gripped the dagger in her pocket tightly. Braced for something.

“Sprout? Is something out there?” Her dad had his keys out, ready to jump in the truck and haul out.

Katie shifted her stance into something more neutral after a long minute as nothing attacked. “I…No, dad. It’s nothing. We’re fine. Sorry.”

“Do we need to go?”

“No. No it’s fine. It was just a raccoon or something. Don’t worry about it.” Katie couldn’t smell the tell tell sulphuric stench that monsters gave off. Nothing came charging out of the shadows to jump at her. She was just tired and paranoid. “I’m tired. Let’s get some sleep.”

From the shadows, a figure lurked just out of sight. The being was made of dark and wispy shadow and smoke. Dark and mostly shapeless it moved without sound as it stalked through the parking lot. Curving around cars and tracking the duo grabbing their bags from the green truck and sleepily mumbling to each other.

 Finally; After so long searching... After endless hours, days, months, YEARS of slipping between the minuscule space between the wefts of reality. After finding nothing but radioactive wastelands, burning worlds, drowned worlds, empty worlds with no life to speak of at all least of all the lives they had searched for; Finally they had found one.

She was lovely. Rich deep dark hair. The color of fresh earth, deep warm brown with a delicate hint of red. Her eye color was lost to the figure in the dark but surely it was as bright and green as her mother. The shade of foliage and leaves. Her face well formed with delicate brows and a nose as straight and proud as any royal could hope for.

But the best part was the tinge of ichor wafting from her aura. Her soul practically singing of fertility, growth, harvest, and power. A beautiful song echoing with her mother’s power.

Demeter’s. This was a daughter of Demeter.

Living, standing, THERE.

She was beautiful. Perfect. The hunched figure in the shadows shivered with anticipation. Finally. Finally. After so long they had found one.

A living child of the gods.

Carefully, the shadow approached the hotel that the living miracle had disappeared into. Following after an older mortal man. Perhaps he was her father? They shared the same nose and chin between them.

Where was her mother though? Why would the lady of Harvests and Famine leave such a precious treasure unprotected, with only a single mortal at her side? Surely there should have been wards upon wards to guard her? Where were the satyrs, nymphs, and dryads to protect and attend to her needs and desires?

Why was she alone?

The shadow moved closer. Finding a small sliver of an opening between the window and the closed curtain so that it could peer into the room the miracle girl had disappeared into.

The room was patterned in various unappealing shades of brown and orange. The floral wallpaper was both faded and obnoxious. The girl was setting bags onto one of the two beds. (‘Small beds’ the figure thought, ‘too small for the princess of the fields to be truly comfortable sleeping in.’). While the mortal man had disappeared deeper into a second room inside. The girl was pulling the corners of the bedding up and seemed to be checking the edges of the mattresses and bed linens. Then she went to the lamp in the corner and flicked it on and continued her inspection of the room. The carpet, the tv, the side table and the small book placed in the drawer. It appeared that the room passed her standards as the girl sat back on the bed and relaxed against the pillows with a visible sigh. Her eyes were drooping and her form relaxed as she seemed to slip into a light doze.

So unprotected! So vulnerable! So near to the door… The figure silently shivered. So close… They could nearly reach out to her from here!

Just as the dark shadow reached for the door handle (Perhaps…perhaps it was unlocked? Perhaps they could-) the mortal came back into the room. The girl jolted awake and after a few words, grabbed some items from her bags and disappeared into the second room as the mortal settled into the other bed. Grabbing the tv remote and flicking through some channels.

The figure retreated. Falling back to the deeper shadows of the parking lot and the small cropping of trees along it’s edge. After a few moments two more misshapen and darkly robed figures joined it in the shadows.

“I found her…a little miracle….” The first whispered and pointed a gnarled finger toward the building. The other two perked up with excitement.

“Truly?” The tallest figure gasped. The voice beneath was raspy and fragile sounding.

“Truly.” Said the first

The third was silent but inching forward toward the building.

“Not yet!” The first snapped a hand out to pull them back.

“Why? Why wait? You have found what we have sought. Why should I wait?”

“You are too eager.” The first scolded

“I tire of you snipping too short, half-gold thread. No point in spinning at all like that.” Clotho whined lowly

“I know, I know.” Atropos sighed,

Lachesis, from behind them, perked up and pushed at her sister excitedly. “Her thread? The color?”

“Shhh! Quiet! Quiet!” Atropos hissed back harshly but quietly. “You’ll wake her!”

“Tell me!” The second sister, Lachesis whispered.

Atropos sighed but relented, “Green.” She said, “Deep and hearty. The color of fern leaves. The slightest hint of gold glinting through.”

“Oooh. How lovely!”

“Beautiful.”

The two fates sighed happily at the thought. Each of them picturing the different patterns they could weave with such a lovely color of thread.

“Let’s get her now!” Clotho pressed again.

“Not yet!” Atropos shook her head, pushing her sisters back. “She is still awake. She won’t understand. She will fight us.”

Clotho scoffed. “Fighting fate. As though any could.” The doubt in her voice was condescending.

“She is strong, sisters. And if she fights us, what if we harm her? Should we deliver a broken miracle to the fields?”

The other two winced in understanding. “Fine.” Clotho snapped out bitterly. “Fine. But when?”

“Wait until she sleeps. Then we will rescue this miracle child from these empty lands.”

“And her mother here?” Lachesis asked quietly.

“The Harvest here is wasteful it seems. Or foolish. Her child is abandoned among mortals with none of her mother’s care around her. She will not notice.” Atropos said confidently.

“So wasteful…” Lachesis let out a quiet, lamenting sigh.

In contrast, Clotho stomped her feet and laughed. “Better for us and the girl then. We will deliver her to a better mother. One who will be grateful for a child to love.”

Atropos nodded. “Yes. And perhaps there are others elsewhere in this world. We should continue looking.”

“For how long? The solstice comes in only a few moon shifts. We can only return home then.”

“We will find what we can until then. And remember the path back here for future trips.”

“Can we go now!?” Clotho pressed again.

Atropos glanced back to the motel. The light of the room was off now. It had been for a while. “Yes. Quickly and quietly. Sister, do you have the bag?”

Lachesis showed a simple linen bag in her hand. The loop of the bag hanging from her neck and shoulders. “I do.”

Clotho held out a clip. “I have the stitch marker.”

“Good. Then lets go quickly and quietly.”

Three shadows passed under the motel doorway. Slinking into the room silently. The flickering light of the muted television making the shadows dance along the burgundy carpet. The shadows went to the furthest bed in the room. Creeping up the side of the comforter to the figure sleeping within.

Too big. Too male. Too mortal. The shadows retreated back to the floor. Turning to the other bed. Slithering up again the trio of shadows found what they wanted.

Young. Feminine. And more than merely mortal. The three silently scoured over the sleeping girls features. Taking in each detail of her face. A gnarled hand reached out with a stitch marker, prepared to clip it into place. While that was happening, another leaned down to take a closer look at her. A hand gently touched her sleep tousled hair.

Katies’ eyes shot open. She threw the covers over the shadows around her. No sound came out but the light thump on the carpet told her there was something in the room with them. “Dad!”

Kyle Gardner startled out of sleep with a snort. “Katie? Katie!” His daughter was thrashing in her bed. In the grip of some unseen terror. Half of his mind went to nightmares. But the part of him that remembered a strange customer years ago with blonde hair and a stunning smile who complimented him on the happiness of his roses, he knew that it was something Else.

With a guttural shout, Kyle leapt from the bed to charge at the blanket covered lump on the floor. Katie was reaching under the hotel pillow for her dagger. Kyle reached a hand to grab toward whatever was there. The flickering tv flashing blue light and shadows through the room.  “Get away from my daughter!”

A force cannonballed into his middle. Sending the man rocketing into and then through the thin motel wall into the yellow tiled bathroom.

“Daddy!” Katies’ voice shrieked. Water spewed out from the busted faucets over Kyles head. The blood which had welled over the gash on his forehead was washed away in the relentless stream. Kyle groaned as he tried pushing himself back toward his screaming child.

“Ka’ie…” Kyle slipped against the wet tile. Katie was still screaming. He struggled to get up. The room was spinning. Water splashed around him in a confusing jumble. His eye wouldn’t focus. His feet wouldn’t listen and get under him. His daughter…Katie needed him. He Had To MOVE.

“Get off me! Dad! Daddy?! Get away from me! What are you?!” Katie thrashed as two of the shadows yanked on her legs, pulling her off the bed and onto the floor. “Ooofph!” She kicked out at them but her feet passed through them without making contact. It didn’t make sense!? How could they grab her and she not touch them!? Her hand gripped her dagger and she made wild swings at them. The figures dodged her uncoordinated swipes. She couldn’t tell if she hit them or not.

“What are you?! Let go! Get off me! Dad!? Dad!” Katie screamed as she was dragged over the motel floor towards the door. “Ahhh!” A snapping sensation on her leg made Katie’s limb lock up. It felt like the worse muscle cramps she had ever experienced. She shrieked at the sudden tension. The hand clutching her knife clenched painfully around it. She felt her muscles grind together so hard the bones in her hands creaked with agonizing pain. Every joint and muscle in her body had seized up at whatever the monster had done.

Kyle pushed himself up. His hands sliding over the floor and tile. “Katie…Katie…” His hand slipped and he plummeted face first onto the floor, unconscious.

“Daddy! Dad! Dad!” Katie squirmed as much as she could with her paralyzed limbs as the third shadow wriggle out from under her blanket. It was holding a bag toward her. “Stop it! Stop! Get away from me!”

The bag slipped over her screaming head and then it swallowed her whole. Her screaming cutting off.

The three shadows fled the scene just as concerned guests from other rooms began to poke their heads out of their doors. By the time sirens roared down the street they were long gone. And when Kyle Gardner’s unconscious body was whisked away in the ambulance, there was no trace of the three intruders or the girl they had taken.

The three fates, exhausted, paused in their retreat.

“That could have gone better.” Atropos snarked. Sarcasm dripping from her tongue.

Clotho hissed back at her sister. “I’m not the one who woke her up!”

Lachesis winced. “I just wanted a closer look. You were right. That green is gorgeous. Who would have guessed she’d be such a light sleeper?”

“She was left defenseless by her wasteful mother. Of course she would be strong enough to survive alone in the world unprotected.” Atropos peeked into the bag. A curled thread of green lay at the bottom. A stitch marker clipped through a tied loop.

“That’s good for her new mother. A strong child is better than a frail one.” Clotho snarked also peeking into the bag. “Such a long thread. Very strong indeed.”

“Are there more to find?” Lachesis asked suddenly. “Not just from the wasteful harvest. What about the others? Could they have children too? I’d love to find some yellow or crème colored thread.”

“Oooh reds would be lovely.” Atropos sighed dreamily.

“Blues. We need blues. And pinks!” Clotho demanded.

“There have to be more children. We’ll keep searching, won’t we, sisters?” Lachesis begged. “There is plenty of time before we have to leave.”

“Yes. But we should be more cautious. And quiet. In case the others are less negligent then this worlds’ Harvest Queen.”

“And the children? I don’t want to have to fight like that each time.” Clotho plucked at her dress, the girl had gotten a close swipe and while it didn’t cut her it tore a gash into her sleeve.

“Maybe we should find smaller ones? Younger ones?” Lachesis offered

“Or just clip their threads in a spot closer to the start? Mortals do not last long and half mortals might not either.” Clotho suggested, her hands playing with her pocket full of stitch marker clips. “Pulling the stitch mark further back would make them easier to catch too.”

“And that would give us more time to weave their lines if we did that!” Lachesis jumped with excitement.

Atropos waved her hands to calm her sisters down. “We’ll see how it goes. Now let’s hurry, we have more threads to find!”

The three shadowy fates disappeared into the dark.

Chapter Text

Kyle Gardner: West Virginia St. Edward’s Hospital

Kyle wakes up to beeping. Rhythmic beeping. He peeled his eyes open to bleached white ceiling tiles and the smell of antiseptic. He felt terrible. His head was spinning and aching. His mouth tasted foul and dry. Every muscle ached. He just wanted…to go back…to sleep…

KATIE!

He jolts back away, clawing at the wires and tubes connected to him. “Ka’ie!” He shouted disjointedly. The monitor next to his bed began to scream out

An older woman in pink looney tunes scrubs came into his room. Followed by a younger man in a white coat. A doctor. “Whoah! Easy! Mr. Gardner! Mr. Garner, you need to calm down.” The woman tried calming him while she wrestled with reconnecting the monitor sensors to his chest and hands.

“My daughter!” He gasped out. The stress of his sudden movements left Kyle breathless with the sharp pain radiating from his side and back.

“Mr. Gardner you have four broken ribs, a fractured collarbone, and a severe head injury. Please calm down and try not to move so much. The police are looking for your daughter.” The doctor joined the nurse in reattaching the tubes. A nasal tube was shoved under Kyle’s nose. His voice and hands were steady. His light blonde hair carefully combed back and neat.

Kyle settled down but only barely. “Looking for her?” He repeated. “My Katie is missing!?”

“There’s a detective waiting to speak to you. Do you feel like talking to him?”

“Yes! Please yes! I need to find my daughter!” Kyle knew that it was probably one of those monsters that took her. That there was probably nothing a ‘mere’ mortal detective could do to find his baby girl, but he had to try.

A balding man came into his room after being waved in by the nurse in the looney tunes scrubs. He was a little on the heavy side but he was clean cut and instead of being dressed in a trench coat or suit like those detectives in those crime tv shows that Katie like watching, he was dressed in a plain button up shirt with slacks. No tie, no suit. Kyle thought he looked more like an accountant than a detective.

“Hello, I’m Roger. I’d like to say pleased to meet you but I don’t usually get to meet people on a good day.” The joke would normal get a least a half smile out of Kyle. He usually appreciated some dry humor but not today.

Today his daughter was missing.

“Have you found my daughter?”

Roger sighed. “Not yet. We have an amber alert out now. I took a picture from your wallet for the alert while you were in surgery. I hope that’s okay.”

“Yes sure. Which one?”

“The one with the green shirt.”

“Greens her favorite color. She’s always wearing it. Which one?” Kyle mentally flipped through the pictures he had in his wallet. He had a habit of not taking the old ones out, just stacking the latest one on top until he couldn’t shut his wallet and had to add the extras to the picture frames at home. He could think of at least five pictures of Katie where she was wearing a green shirt.

“She has her hair in bangs.” The detective offered

“Last summer. Her hair has grown out a little bit so they aren’t straight anymore, but it’s the most recent picture I got.”

The detective nodded. “That’s good. I’ll add that to the alert. Can you tell me what happened?”

“I picked Katie up from summer camp around noon yesterday. Yesterday?” Kyle checked the clock in the corner. 11:48 am. “Yesterday. And started driving back down home.”

“Home is in Kentucky right?”

“Yes. Ashland Kentucky.”

“But your daughter goes to summer camp in another state? There are a lot of good summer camps in Kentucky. Why go to another state?”

“Katies’ been going to that camp since she was 8. Her friends go to that camp and her mother wanted her to go. It’s a drive yeah, but if it makes Katie happy and it’s a good camp then I didn’t see an issue.” Kyle knew that getting defensive was stupid. Roger was just doing his job.

“Alright. That’s fair. We haven’t been able to find anything on Katies’ mom. Do you know how we can contact her?”

“No. She’s…not in the picture. After Katie was born she would pop in sporadically but we haven’t spoken since Katie was almost 9 I think. She’s…” Kyle bit his lip. He hated lying but he couldn’t exactly say ‘She’s a goddess. Demeter in fact’ without looking like a nutcase. And he was pretty miffed at her for never visiting or calling their daughter. So…

“Denise is a paranoid schizophrenic. They can be pretty severe but she’s not around anymore and she never hurt Katie or myself. It was a one night stand and we couldn’t make more of it. I wanted to coparent so Katie would have her mom around but things got…bad (Demeter warned him about monsters and left him with a camp phone number and nothing else). She…she left us years ago. She hasn’t been in contact since Katie was little. The last conversation we had really was about that camp in Long Island.”

“Do you think Denise would be involved? That she could be a danger to Katie? Is there any way you could contact her?”

“Honestly, I couldn’t tell you if she was even alive let alone where she is. And No; Denise wouldn’t care about Katie enough to call her, let alone kidnap her. Denise was…she wasn’t someone I would have chosen to have a kid with if I knew better. But Katie is the most amazing kid. She’s the most important thing in my life. Please, you have to find her.”

“We will do everything to find Katie, Mr. Gardner. I promise. Can you tell me more about what happened last night?”

“We pulled into the motel. We still had a few hours to drive but I was exhausted and I don’t drive tired. Especially with Katie in the truck. We went to sleep and I woke up to Katie screaming.”

“Did you see the attackers?”

“The only light in the room was from the tv. It was muted but it was on so everything was just flashes. I think there were three? I don’t know what. All I saw were shadows. I got up to get them away from Katie and something hit me and threw me through the wall. There was water everywhere and I couldn’t see straight. I could hear Katie screaming for me.”

“Witnesses say they heard the yelling and the crash. But by the time they got to the room, the door was open and the attackers had fled with Katie. Nobody heard or saw the car they fled in. Did you notice anyone following you two?”

“No. No I don’t think so.”

“Did you make any other stops besides camp?”

“We got gas just before leaving Long Island and we had dinner at this little diner place off of 76 in Carlisle.”

“Have you been there before?”

“Every year. They have this green bean casserole that Katie loves. I can’t make it right at home so it’s a tradition for us to stop there on the drive back from camp.”

“We’re gonna need the address of that diner and a contact number for Katies’ camp.”

“Yeah sure. Please find my little girl.”

“We won’t stop till we do Mr. Gardner.”

Roger left the hospital room after again assuring Mr. Gardner that he’d keep him updated. Holding the door for the nurse to reenter and administer some pain medication to the injured father he started down the hall.

His partner Aaron was standing next to the door and joined his walking. “What do you think?” The younger detective asked.

“I don’t think he’s involved. He doesn’t seem guilty, despite the injury he seems very clear on what happened, and all of his answers were in reverse chronological order.”

“If he were lying, he’s say the story in the order of what he wanted us to think things happened.” Aaron looked down at his notes. “How many attackers did he say there were?”

“Three. No descriptions beyond ‘shadows’ though. It was too dark.”

“He fought like hell to stop them.” Aaron noted. “Injuries like this, I’m surprised he’s up and about.”

“Doctors reduced the pain meds so we could talk to him sooner. Four broken ribs, busted collar bone, and a massive head injury and he’s still more concerned about his kid. Drs. Got him back on the regular meds now so talking to him is gonna be a no go for a while.”

“Anything on the mom?”

“Apparently not a factor. Paranoid schizophrenic according to dad and hasn’t been in contact since before the kid was ten. I’d like to get more though. I don’t think he was telling us everything.”

“Something about the mom?” Aaron raised an eyebrow.

“Probably nothing. He hesitated with the name a bit. Seemed…embarrassed or ashamed for some reason.”

Aaron pulled out his phone. “I think I have the answer to that.” He showed Roger the screen. “Katies’ birth certificate. I had Kentucky state records pull it just in case. It was a home birth apparently but it was registered few weeks after when mom passed Katie over to Kyle and he brought baby Katie in for a check up and DNA test. Look at the moms info.”

Roger scanned the document. “No dob, no last place of residence, no social. This woman was a ghost.” Then he noticed the name. “Demeter? What the hell kind of a name is that?”

“Greek apparently. Sharon-the tech who scanned it- had to pronounce it for me. It’s the name of some greek god of winter or crops or something.”

“Well people name their kids Jesus and Mary so its not that weird. Why would Kyle call her ‘Denise’ though?”

“You said mom was schizophrenic?” Aaron asked,

“According to dad, yeah. Why?”

The younger man gestured with his phone as he spoke, the little screen flashing as he waved it around. “Some patients with schizophrenia can display delusions of grandour. ”

“Like being a goddess?” Roger guessed.       

“Exactly.”

“So Denise thinks she some kind of crop god. So she’s probably not cognitive enough to plan, organize, and orchestrate a kidnapping of her daughter with two other people.”

“Probably not. Most delusions do not work well with others.”

“Damn it so we’re looking at a stranger abduction then. What’s our clock on Katie?”

“911 call puts the kidnapping around 3:30 am this morning and it’s almost noon so we’re at 8 and a half and counting.”

“Damn it. At least we know it was three of them. That’s some good news.” The expression on Roger’s face said otherwise. He grimaced at the idea.

 Aaron turned the screen on his phone down. “What do you mean?”

“Three kidnappers and one kid. They’ll spend more time with her than the typical 24 hour time frame before killing her.” Roger looked grim at the idea. Aaron’s face turned green. “I hate cases with kids. I hate it so god damn much.”

“Me too. This case crosses state lines so the Feds are being called. We got an ETA on them?”

“Chief said they should be at the station in half an hour. They’ll want to talk to the dad too.”

“I know. Let’s get the diner and the camp info from him first. Last thing we need is a cocky little snot from Quantico trying to make his name on a case and screwing up the investigation.”

“Amber Alert is set and the tip line is up. Local news is gonna give it out in a few minutes.”

“Damn the local news. We got a kid from Kentucky tracked all the way from a camp in Long Island and kidnapped in West Virginia. The Gardner’s were being stalked. There isn’t any other way. I want Katie on every news channel, radio, website. Everywhere. I want this kid’s face plastered from New York to Los Angelos!” Roger was red now. He had a daughter Katies’ age. He thought of his little Janie in the same situation. “I want officers at that diner. See if we can spot anyone in the building watching the Gardner’s. I want the motel witnesses reinterviewed.”

“Sure. Let’s get that camp number too. We need to speak to the director about when Katie left.”

Kyle waited until the nurse unhooked him of the litany of tubes and wires to make his excuses to go to the bathroom. He had his cell phone on him and called the camp’s ’mortal line’

“Hello, Camp Hemitheos (ημίθεοι) this is the director. How can I help you?”

“Chiron it’s me. Kyle Gardner, Katies’ dad.”

“Mr. Gardner. Katie’s not here. I thought she left with you?”

“She did. We were attacked on our way home. Something took Katie! They weren’t human. They were like shadow demons or something! You have to help me find Katie!”

“Oh, that is sad. Unfortunately we do not have any ‘rescue operations’. We can’t put the other children in danger, you understand. I’m sorry to hear about your loss.”

“Loss? What?! Chiron, she was kidnapped! Something took my daughter! Are you telling me you aren’t going to do anything?! The police are looking for her!”

“I’m sorry Mr. Gardner. But if Katie was ‘taken’ by a monster then she will either make her way home or she won’t. There’s nothing I can do. Thank you for informing me about what happened. I’ll make sure her cabin is aware to start on her shroud and I’ll make a note to expect a call from the officers. You can give them this number for camp. Goodbye Mr. Gardner.”

“Chiron wait-!”

BEEP BEEP BEEP

Kyle stood in the cramped hospital bathroom staring at his phone for a long time.

Nothing.

They weren’t going to do anything?

His daughter. His little girl. His sprout was…she was…

He couldn’t breathe…the room was spinning. His chest hurt. His head hurt. He couldn’t breathe.

The nurse found Kyle Gardner in the bathroom 5 minutes later. The poor man’s injuries caused his already elevated blood pressure to sky rocket. He had had a stroke from the stress.

Dr. Cole noted in his chart that they had to keep him in a medical coma until he was recovered more. Thankfully it seemed the man would live and he had a contact number that the police were looking for in his phone. Dr. Cole turned the phone over to the police.

Demeter: Olympus

The Goddess of Fields and Golden Wheat tended to her greenhouse. Winter was plaguing the mortal world. Her darling Persephone was languishing in the underworld again without her mother to comfort her. Demeter could find some comfort in tending to her private greenhouse.

She had rows and rows of potted plants. Some pots were filled with the remains of some withered flower or vine. These pots sit empty through the long expanse of the greenhouse. Countless names engraved in the rims.

But the plants that saw that the most devoted of her care were in the front. Bright flowers, robust fruits, and vibrant vines. Her most prized possessions.

Demeter quietly cared for the various flowers and other fauna growing around her. Each plant was a link to her mortal children. Each different plant represented the current state of each of her children.

Miranda’s Iris flower was a little wilted. She always went through small bouts of stress as summer ended and she took over as cabin counselor.

Mitchell’s Marigold seemed a little dry. It seemed he’d have a growth spurt soon. She added a little extra water and a sprinkle of additional nutrients to help ease the muscle aches.

Sarah’s Peony flower had new curling leaves branching out. She was always good at making friends. It seemed she was branching out beyond her cabin siblings. It was good she was forming new bonds.

 Demeter diligently watered the blooms and smiled at the evidence of her children’s lives. Enjoying the small chore she petered around the greenhouse. Noting that her three older demigod children (the ones who have outgrown chirons’ camp) were also doing well.

 New buds were sprouting on Taylors’ Floribunda Rose; so she was expecting a child. How lovely.  

David’s snapdragon was blooming vibrantly. He must be happy with his new job going well.

April’s bluebell seemed a bit wilted and drawn. Demeter hoped that she wasn’t crash dieting again. She poured a bit more water and nutrients into her pot. That should help her stay strong.

Demeter refilled the pitcher of water before turning to the final flower pot. Expecting to see Katie’s Daffodil blooming upright and happily now that she was back and staying with her father for the fall and winter. She was always so happy with her mortal father.

The pitcher fell to the greenhouse floor with a crash. Water splashing over the tile. Katies’ daffodil was…it wasn’t wilted. It wasn’t even withered (as it would have been if she had died) instead the pot was filled with bleached, corse, ash colored sand. Not the rich fertile earth that she had planted and tended. There was no Daffodil. No blackened and withered stem. No dropped or fallen petals. The sandy soil was loose and disturbed like someone had come by and forcefully yanked her Katie’s flower from it’s place.

Something that sucked the life from the soil.

Hades…

Demeter collapsed to her knees as facets of ice crept along the tile floor. Spiraling out around her.

Not again. Not again.

He had taken another of her daughters.

Travis: Camp Half-Blood

Travis didn’t know why Chiron had interrupted sword training to pull Miranda aside at first. But when she let out a blood curdling scream, the whole camp could guess what Chiron had said to her.

Katie Gardner was dead.

Miranda and the rest of cabin four disappeared into their cabin for the rest of the day. None of them even came out for dinner.

Travis knew how they felt. He wasn’t hungry either.

Conner left him alone until bed that night. Leaving Travis to sulk in their cot for a few hours. But eventually, Conner pushed him over on their cot to make room. The other Hermes cabin campers settled down around them. Travis didn’t react to his brother’s nudging for a few hours. But his brother’s persistent poking got him to shuffle and turn around.

“What?” Travis whispered, quietly enough not to wake the kids sleeping around them.

“Wanna tell me what’s wrong now?” Conner pressed. The two of them pulled their blanket over their heads.

“I’m fine.” Travis huffed.

Even in the dark, Travis could tell Conner was rolling his eyes at him. “Doesn’t seem like you’re fine.”

“Katies’ dead…” Travis whispered. His breathe barely audible as he squished his cheek into their pillow.

Conner’s arm came up to pull him into a hug. “I know. Miranda’s working on her shroud.”

Travis kept his face turned into the pillow. Conner wouldn’t say anything about it being wet. He would let him pretend it was drool rather than tears. “She shouldn’t be dead…it’s not fair.”

“Is anything fair?” Conner squeezed him tighter.

“It just…it sucks, y’know?”

“Yeah…I know. Do you want to talk about it?”

Travis shook his head. “No. Not right now.”

“Later.”

“Yeah, whatever. I just wanna go to sleep.”

“Night.”

“Night.”

The two brother’s held each other while they fell asleep.

Chapter Text

Miranda Gardnir- Camp Half Blood

Miranda tied off the green thread on the latest stitch. Katies’ shroud was nearly finished. A crown of oak leaves (Katie’s favorite tree) with black-eyed Susans and yellow daffodils at the top and bottom of the shroud with a portrait of Katie in the center of the leaves to finish it.

Every member of the cabin had put time into the shroud. On Miranda’s turn, she focused on the stitching and muttered little prayers of remembrance and comfort to her sister. It was a small comfort. The last act of kindness she could give to Katie.

Katie had welcomed Miranda into the cabin years ago. Helped her focus and become in tune with her powers. To feel the power thrumming through her and into the earth and the greenery surrounding camp. Katie was the one who first called her ‘sister’, the one who made camp feel like home, and who made their cabin a family.

Katie was the one who built their confidence up every time some camper, satyr, or even Chiron himself disregarded them. Said that they weren’t the ‘powerful’ kind of demigods. Made them feel like they were the children of a minor god instead of one of the original Olympians. Every instance of disrespect, every throw away comment calling them weak or unimportant, every time they were the butt of a joke at camp, Katie was there to stand up for them. Katie was the one who comforted them. Told them that they were more than what everyone believed. That they were important, and precious, and good.

And now Katie was gone.

Camp felt…wrong. It always felt a little empty when the Summer kids left for the school year but this time was different. It wasn’t just empty. It was hollow.

Miranda was starting a new stitch on the corner Daffodil when Mitchell came in. He didn’t say anything as he threw himself on his bed with a huff.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“It’s hot today.”

“It’s barely halfway through September.” It was a blistering summer and fall was barely creeping in. A lot of the trees were still clinging to some yellow/green leaves. It wasn’t hot by any means but it wasn’t cold either. A crisp breeze came through every now and then. “Are you expecting snow or something?”

“…well, yeah kinda.”

Miranda paused in her stitching to look up at him. Mitchell was laying on his back, not looking at her with one of his arms thrown over his eyes. “What do you mean?”

With an explosion of movement, Mitchell gripped the pillow on his bed and threw it across the cabin. It bounced off the wall. “I mean what the FUCK is wrong with our mother!? Katie was the best. The strongest one of her kids in this generation and after she kicks it there’s NOTHING?! No reaction? This is the woman who started the freakin’ ice age because her kid got married!? Her daughter gets attacked by monsters and it’s not even Cool outside?! What the fuck!?” Mitchell was shouting by the end of his rant. Miranda put down the shroud.

“Were you expecting a snow storm or something?”

Mitchell hesitated at her calm response. “Well…yeah I guess. Katie was the best of us. She always gave mom the best sacrifices and made those stupid Mother’s Day cards to burn for her every year. Katie was…Katie y’know.”

“I know. But just because We care that Katie’s gone doesn’t mean that mom does.”

“But she should!”

“Yeah, but she doesn’t. And shouting at me won’t make her care.”

Mitchell jerked back, pausing before slumping back onto his bed. “I just…I thought that after the war and everything. After Jackson making the gods promise to be better that…that things would be Better.”

“There aren’t any unclaimed. Minor gods are getting cabins. That’s more then there was before. Gods aren’t quick to change. But its better than it was before.”

Mitchell sighed in aggravation. “I just…stuff like this…it makes me think that the wrong side won sometimes. Y’know.”

Miranda moved over to sit on Mitchell’s bed. “Katie wouldn’t have liked you saying that.”

“Yeah well, she’s not here to complain is she?” Mitchell rolled over to pout on his side. His back to Miranda.

Miranda swatted at the back of her brother’s head. “Shut it. Be better. Otherwise when we see Katie again in Elysium, she’ll kick both our asses.”

“You think she’s in Elysium?” Mitchell whispered.

Miranda shrugged at him with a smile, “She wouldn’t be anywhere else. It’s Katie.”

Travis Stoll: McDonald’s outside of Camp Half-Blood

Travis followed Conner into the McDonald’s semi-reluctantly. They had snuck away (well, Conner had snuck them out and Travis was dragged along) and were a few miles from camp at the local McDonald’s restaurant. It wasn’t the first time they had slipped away from camp and it probably wouldn’t be the last.

But Travis wasn’t in the mood for burgers or a McFlurry today.

“Con, can we just go back? I’m not hungry.”

“Nope. We’re not here to eat. You need to talk about this.” Conner continued to pull his brother forward.

Travis dug in his heels. “Dude, I’m not in the mood for this.” He snapped at him. “Let’s just go okay?”

Conner pulled him harder. “Trav, you need to talk about this. And I know you don’t want to talk to me so I found someone who you can talk to.”

“I’m not talking to Mr. D”

“Yeah, No. I’m not stupid. You need someone who’ll actually listen.” Conner led Travis over to a booth and manhandled him into sitting.

 “I’ll go grab some fries and a drink.” Conner jogged up to the front of the mostly empty restaurant.

Except for the pimply faced cashier and the three other workers in the kitchen behind the counter the only other people in the McDonald’s were a mom and her three kids all under 10 running around the play place, an overweight man eating three burgers in the corner, and a few booths away from where Conner shoved Travis were a pair of old ladies, one with giant reading glasses arguing over something the other lady bag. A third old lady joined the pair and the hissed argument continued between the three.

Conner grabbed a few burgers and fries and dropped half the food on the table before sitting himself at a single table away from Travis’ booth.

Travis looked across the table he was sat in and sighed. He should have guessed.

Pollux was watching the Stoll brother antics with a deadpan expression. “So I’m guessing you weren’t on board with the whole ‘therapy’ thing?”

“What was your first clue?” Travis snapped at him before wincing. He felt bad being rude to the younger teen. Pollux just…wasn’t the same after Castor died. Nobody expected him to be obviously but the second half of the dramatic duo of Camp Half-Blood was…he was very different without his brother around.

“Therapy doesn’t work unless you’re willing.”

“I don’t need therapy.”

Pollux snorted at him. But it didn’t feel insulting at least. “Everyone needs therapy. But it’s a choice. I’m not making it for you.”

Travis narrowed his eyes at the blonde. “Seriously?”

The younger teen shrugged at him. “Seriously. We can just grab some lunch and go back to camp.”

“Fine.”

Pollux took a sip of his soda, pushing his fries closer to the middle so Travis could snag a few of his. “So why’d Conner drag us here for therapy talk anyway? Is your mom okay?”

“She’s fine.” As far as Travis knew anyway. Their mom hasn’t called them in months but they haven’t heard that she’d been arrested or died or anything so there’s that at least. He sat back against the cushioned booth with a sigh. “It’s Katie, I guess.”

Pollux looked down and nodded. “I heard. Sucks.”

“Yeah it sucks but it shouldn’t. I mean-” Travis floundered with his words. “It sucks and it should suck but I don’t know why it sucks for me? Does that make sense?” He waved his hands around in frustration. “Like, we weren’t friends. We weren’t dating. Hell, she hated my guts. I shouldn’t be this messed up about her dying!”

“You don’t have to like someone to be upset that they’re dead, Travis.”  Pollux said evenly. “And Katie didn’t hate you. If she hated you she wouldn’t have gotten so worked up when you stole her backpack or when you and Conner dyed their cabin sheets orange.”

Travis snorted and quipped without thinking, “Can’t prove that we did that.” Then the smile slipped off his face. “I mean…how’d you know she didn’t hate me?”

“My cabin and hers have the most strawberry field time together.” Pollux said, “There’s not much else to do in the field except work and talk. If she hated you, Katie would have just gone to Chiron or Dad to complain about you. Get privileges revoked for your cabin or something. She thought you were annoying and immature definitely, but she didn’t hate you.”

“Well great. She died thinking I was annoying but didn’t hate my guts. That makes me feel better.” Travis said sarcastically.

“Doesn’t it?”

Travis didn’t know what to say. To cover the silence he reached forward and snatched a handful of fries from in front of Pollux. He shoved them into his mouth and refused to make eye contact.

“When Castor died. I didn’t know what to feel.” Pollux said abruptly. “Chiron talked about pride and honor and how the kids who died at the Labyrinth battle were heroes and bound for Elysium and everything but, I just…didn’t care. I didn’t care about anything. Not the battle or camp or even dad. I don’t even think I felt sad at first.”

Travis stopped aggressively chewing on the fries to stare as Pollux continued. The blonde teen was turned away staring at the window. “I was just numb. It wasn’t denial. It was just numbness. I couldn’t make myself feel sad or angry or reflective or any of the stupid words that Dad threw out when he couldn’t stand to look at me. He still can’t most days.” Pollux’s tone wasn’t sad. It was calm and monotone.

“I didn’t actually feel anything until after his shroud was finished. I was angry. But I wasn’t angry at the monsters, the titans, the traitors, Luke, or anything like that. I was mad at Castor. I was mad at Dad. I was mad at myself. I still don’t feel sad. Just angry. All the time.” Pollux looked over at Travis. For how much he talked about being angry he seemed unnervingly calm.

“There’s no right way to feel about someone dying. There are expected ways to feel. Typical feelings. Average feelings. But grief is a personal thing. You can feel angry, or sad, or guilty, or anything. You aren’t wrong about how you feel about Katie. No more wrong than I am for feeling angry about Castor.”

Travis slumped in his seat. It was a long minute of silence. Allowing Pollux’s words to sink in before he began to cry.

It wasn’t loud or dramatic. Just a few quiet tears slipping down his cheeks. “I…I should have been nicer to her. She was…she was cool. In an annoying goody-two shoes kind of way, but cool. She was tough and smart and…it’s not fair that she’s dead and I’m only just now realizing how cool she was. It sucks.”

Pollux let him sit there and cry for a while. Across the restaurant the fat man and the mom with kids had both left at some point during their talk.

The three old ladies were still there. One of them was fumbling with the soda machine while the other was at the register ordering more food. The third was still at their booth fiddling with whatever was in her friends’ bag.

Travis was felt a hot flush of embarrassment run over him as he made eye contact with the old lady in the booth. Through her oversized glasses, the old lady gave him a smile that wasn’t quite pitying but kind enough to make him feel bad about crying in public.

“Damn it.” He muttered as he dragged a hand over his eyes. “Fucking damn it.”

Pollux was quiet and let him process his emotions. He glanced over and watched Conner move over to the soda machine to help the second old lady fill her drink with ice. The cashier moved from around the counter to sweep the front area.

After a while, Travis stopped sniffling. He looked up at Pollux ruefully. “Was that therapy?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. We just got lunch. You guys wanna help me get back to camp?”

“Only if you buy me a McFlurry before we leave.”

“Fine.”

 McDonalds Long Island New York

 Atropos had to dig her nails (now closer to claws) into Clotho’s arm to keep her from following after the trio of miracles leaving the restaurant. One of the curly brunettes was snacking on a frosty treat as they left. His eyes still bloodshot. “Not now.” She hissed at her sister.

“Look at that purple!” Clotho’s eyes where wide as she strained to keep the children in her sight. “And that pair of orange and crème colors. They are adorable!”

“Shhh!” She pulled her sister back to the booth where Lachesis was sitting and admiring the green bundle they already had still securely curled in their bag.
“They are right there!” Clotho hissed at her. Unhappily slumping into the booth and tilting her head toward the door. “Can we not just grab them now?”

Atropos pushed her sister to sit more fully into the booth. Lachesis took the opportunity to share the chicken ‘nuggets’ that was sitting on the table. Clotho took one and unhappily chewed the breaded chicken.

Atropos sighed “After all the trouble the first child gave us? What if they call upon their parents? What if they listen? Do you think we would escape unscathed let alone with the threads we want?”

“They are alone. Their father’s are obviously as neglectful as the Harvest if they are out in the world alone as they are! That boy was crying! Where is his father to dry his tears? Give him comfort and care?” Clotho stubbornly huffed.  

“Do not invite trouble to our table. We need to be silent and clever to gain as many threads as we can before we are noticed.” Atropos took a sip of the bubbly drink the other boy had helped her pour. Her face scrunched in disgust at the taste. “Ugh. Disgusting. How can mortals stand this drink?”

Lachesis took the drink as Atropos sat it down and took a sip herself. “Hmm. It’s fizzy. I like it!” She continued drinking the sweet soda. “Do you think the green one is as good?” She looked over at the drink dispenser.

Her two sisters shared a look of exasperation at their sister’s antics. “Can we focus?” Atropos said, “I heard the boys mention returning to camp.”

“Camp? Like a war camp?” Lachesis startled. “But they are just babies?!”

“Perhaps it is a gathering of miracle children of the gods?” Clotho guessed.

“Oooh that would be so cute!” Lachesis opinion was swayed as she cooed at the thought of dozens maybe even hundreds of little miracles gathered together.

The eldest, Atropos said earnestly, “And a good opportunity to collect more threads.”

Clotho added her own piece, “Something else the boy said interests me; Elysium. His brother ‘Castor’ is in Elysium. And perhaps more miracle children.”

“Threads that have been cut.” Lachesis said sadly. She was always sad at the thought of ‘short threads’.

“Threads that have already done their part in this world. Perhaps their fate can be respun?“ Clotho offered her suggestion with a sly look as Lachesis face bloomed with eagerness. “Their threads can be revived and lengthened. The poor children already abandoned to death by their neglectful parents given a new life and better mothers and fathers than before. A second chance unburdened by the fate of this world…”

“Oooh that sounds so sweet!”

Her two younger sisters turned to Atropos with matching expressions. Eyes bright, smiles wide, cheeks flushed. “Please sister,” Clotho pressed as Lachesis nodded, “This world has a festival season of honoring the dead. I heard the mortal woman speak of it with her children. ‘Hollow Eine’ she called it. A time when ghosts and monsters can roam the world with the living. Mortals wear ‘costumes’ to hide themselves from the ghosts and spirits.”

Atropos blinked in surprise, “Is the lord of the dead so neglectful here that he allows the departed to return to the living? How ridiculous.”

“Supposedly it is only for one night. But it could allow us a chance to recover some miracle children from Elysium. Those already thrown aside to death by their parents.”

“Perhaps…what day is this Hollow Eine?”

Clotho’s face pinched. “I didn’t hear her say. But surely it is soon if she mentioned it?”

“We will need more information before we go invading the lands of the dead.”

“But we will?” Lachesis asked. “What about the miracle camp?”

“We can look for both. Find the location of the camp of miracle children IF it exists and the time for when the land of the dead is open and we can sneak into Elysium to rescue cut threads.” Atropos decided curtly.

Happy with the plan, Clotho reached over to snatch the cup from Lachesis hands and took a triumph sip. Her arrogant expression crumpling as the taste hit her tongue.

“BLEGH! That’s awful!”

Chapter Text

Clotho eagerly led her sisters deeper into the Underworld. Her nose scrunching at the polluted appearance of the realm. Her steps only minutely slowing. "It seems that the King here is neglecting not only the security of his realm but it's general cleanliness as well."

Atropos winced as the smell hit her. "Ugh. Ghastly."

"Filthy…" Lachesis hissed as she tugged her cardigan over her nose.

The three Fates carefully crossed the polluted water before them. Taking care not to draw the attention of the ferryman further down the river. The three ladies stepped lightly. Using the trash and accumulated pollution to cross over the river without touching the oily and disgusting water.

The accumulated mass of refuse created a handy if squishy bridge to the other side. Clotho nearly lost her balance (and the bag she was holding) when a plastic gallon jug collapsed and broke off from the mass under her foot. Lachesis and Atropos quickly grabbed her flailing arms and helped steady her.

The crunching and splashing of the dislodged garbage caught the attention of the ferryman far down the banks. The three fates froze as his dark eyes peered through the smog towards where they were standing. Thankfully, his eyes moved passed him as a new collection of souls crowded onto his boat. The three old women continued their journey across with much more careful steps. Lachesis slipped the bag away from Clotho with a look and looped the handle around her shoulder securely.

Once on the other bank, the three continued their observation of the Underworld. They were far from impressed. Litter and garbage peeked out through the silt and sand around them. The air was thick with smoke and smog. The river wasn't flowing as it should; The Styx oozed along instead.

Lachesis reached over to tug on her sister Atropos' sleeve. "Can't we leave? This place is disgusting."

Atropos looked considerately but Clotho shook her head stubbornly. Her gray and silver hair flying around her head. "No absolutely not. Think of the children." She said scathingly, "If this is the underworld, then all afterlives would be a punishment. Even those on the Blessed isles must be suffering the stench of this place."

Lachesis gasped, "Oh! But…" She looked around them again. Lifting her slipper covered foot to inspect the oily and gritty mud clinging to her pink fuzzy shoe. It was seeping into her socks. "I don't like this place."

"The sooner we find and rescue the children, the faster we leave." Clotho patted her shoulder to rally her sisters' courage. "Be brave. We can do this."

"Are you sure today is the Hollow Eine day you mentioned before? I don't see any spirits sneaking away?" Atropos asked

"Of course it is! The last day of Oct-to-beer. I asked a mortal a few days ago."

"Was that why that young man asked me if you were senile?" Lachesis giggled.

"Shush. That's not important. What's important is Hollow Eine is today. Perhaps the spirits are sneaking out further down the river? Closer to the ferryman?"

"That's not important." Atropos pushed her sisters to move further up the bank. Peering over a pile of old boxes (stained and melting into the sand) "There are still furies patrolling around the fields of Asphodel and Punishment. Where are we suppose to find and 'rescue' the deceased miracle children?"

"Elysium." Clotho said with authority.

"They've already suffered and earned their peace. Maybe we should leave?" Lachesis said tentatively.

"Realistically, how much peace do you think can be had in a place so filthy?"

"I'm sure they keep Elysium nice."

"I doubt it." Clotho scoffed

Atropos suddenly hissed and pointed a gnarled finger toward the distance, "Shh! Look over there! There's a miracle child on the bank!"

Following her direction, the other two looked and as Atropos said. There was a soul of a young man sitting on the edge of the riverbank.

"Do you think he's escaping to the living realm?"

"He's on the banks of memories. Maybe he's choosing rebirth?"

Lachesis moved closer. "That's exactly what we are offering. Let me speak with him."

Leaving her sisters crouching behind the boxes, Lachesis approached the young spirit.

He was a young thing. An adult surely but only just. He seemed more like a teen who crawled out of childhood on bloody knees then walking through it. His eyes were tear filled as he looked out over the river of memory.

Lachesis alerted him to her presence with a shuffling of the damp sand under her slippers. "Young man, may I sit with you?"

The young spirit didn't take his eyes off the river. "Yeah, if you want to."

Only slightly reluctantly, Lachesis settled in the damp and slimy sand next to him. The coolness from the sand leeched through her cardigan but her wool skirt stayed thankfully dry. While she sat down, Lachesis felt the young man glance at her and relax. Obviously only seeing the guise of a bespectacled old woman that she wore.

"Are you planning on swimming across?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"Why though? Elysium is right behind us. Wouldn't you rather rest over there?"

"I…I don't deserve it."

"I doubt they just let anyone in there young man. If you're allowed in then I think it's alright. They must think you've earned paradise somehow."

"I died a hero. Apparently." The way the man said it was bitter. "I died trying to undo a mistake that I made. Stopping Kronos from rising again." In the distance, the pit rumbled at the name.

"Sounds like a heroes death to me." Lachesis said softly, kindly. "If you fixed a mistake you made then that sounds like a good thing doesn't it?"

"But it wasn't!" The man snapped. Not looking at her again. He pulled his knees up and wrapped his arms around them. Looking like a child on the verge of tears. "It didn't fix anything! They all still died. I-" his voice choked and he bit harshly at his lip to keep the tears in his eyes from falling. "I was a selfish, stupid, kid who listened to an asshole. And I got hundreds of other stupid kids killed for it. I was mad at the gods and I got people killed because of it. The very people I was trying to protect."

Lachesis took the chance and lifted a hand to rest on his shoulder. "What happened, love?"

Slowly and with plenty of stops to stop himself from crying, the young man told her his story.

About his mother's insanity and his father's abandonment. Of being alone on the run and later losing his dearest friend on the edge of what they were told was a sanctuary. Of the years of neglect and training and loss. Of the detached ambivalence shown by the gods when children were sent on deadly quests and didn't return. How he watched over hundreds of children who were crowded into a cramped cabin and yearning for their parents to claim them, only to find harsh expectations and disappointment if they ever did. Of how the gods were abundant in resources and riches and yet refused to give their children the only thing they ever wanted…their attention, their time, their love.

Lachesis listened as he spoke of hope twisting into anger and admiration rotting into hate. Of how during his waking hours he trained with children to survive their parents expectations and monsters salivating for their lives (the former much harder to survive than the latter), watched friends being expelled from their only safe haven once they were 'adults' and thrown to the harsh world with nothing but the trifling skills they had gained, of sewing and burning countless shrouds of fellow campers who never came home. And how even his sleep was no respite as the Crooked One found his way into his dreams and tormented him each night with horrors hemmed in sweet poisoned lies of safety and revolutions until he gave in.

He spoke of his anger, his weakness, his foolishness. Lachesis was surprised and impressed that despite the poor child being manipulated by gods, titans, and monsters he never pushed the blame to them. Holding himself responsible for the deaths that the war he was forced to instigate caused. It showed an incredible amount of humility (perhaps a touch too much.)

How he betrayed the very campers he had sworn to himself to protect. How he used his final breath to beg another child to do what he couldn't. The guilt he felt for burdening 'Percy' even more. Of how regretful he was for hurting his pseudo little sister 'Annie' and having her watch him take his own life.

He gestured back toward Elysium and talked about how his 'victims' were all there. The fallen children from the war he caused, the monsters he unleashed, the path he had taken them down. He told Lachesis that he couldn't bare to be in paradise because he didn't feel deserving of it. To be among the other casualties of the war he started.

Eventually, the man remembered to introduce himself. "Luke." He said softly, his voice cracking from how long he spoke.

Lachesis paused, she didn't want to give her name (sharing the same as one of this worlds fates) if she spoke it, it could call her counterparts attention. Thinking quickly, she offered, "You can call me Lala." Her voice had the soft gravel of age to it.

Luke's smile was crooked, but sincere. "Lala? I like it."

"Thank you, young man."

The two odd companions sat on the bank quietly. "Are you planning on crossing the river? To try living again?"

Luke shrugged, "I think I should but…"

"But?"

"What if I make the same mistakes? What if I'm a demigod again? What if I hurt more people?"

"Do you think you will?"

"I…I don't think the gods will change. At least not so quickly. I'm scared of trying again and ending up in the same place."

Lachesis reached out her hand to touch his shoulder, pressing more firmly when Luke relaxed under her hold. "Dearie…I think you deserve a second chance at childhood. I think you deserve a caring, attentive, loving father who will never abandon you. You have suffered here long enough, Luke."

The boy was now leaning into her hug. His shoulders shaking at the first kind words and sincere comfort that he's received from an adult in what must have been a very long time. "I…I want that…" He admitted quietly. Tears finally falling down his face. "I want that so much."

"Then you'll have that, Luke. I promise." The conviction in her voice was ironclad.

Before Luke could pull away to question her, Lachesis slipped the bag she had around her wrist over him. He could only jolt a few centimeters away before he was reduced to a more malleable form. Lachesis reached into the bag and clipped a stitch marker on the gorgeous orange and creme colored thread.

As she admired Luke's life thread, she noticed small glimmers of gold inside it. Likely from his past possession of the Crooked One. The new lively-colored thread curled around the vibrant green thread already in the bag. The two colors contrasting nicely.

"You'll serve under selfish gods no longer, Luke. Your new father will ensure you know nothing but peace and sweetness in your new life."

Lachesis stood up from the sand and swiped at her cardigan to dislodge the wet sand that was sticking to her. Her sisters came closer. "Let me see! Let me see!" Clotho snatched the bag away from her to look inside. "Ooh what a lovely color shift!"

Atropos glanced inside over her shoulder. "That is a lovely color indeed. I heard a bit of what he told you. I think he truly deserves a better father than he has had."

"You took too much time. The night is almost over." Clotho complained. "Let's hurry to Elysium before Hollow Eine is over!"

Atropos nodded in agreement, "Let's hurry."

the three fates scurried over to Elysium, ducking behind mounds of refuse and trash from the patrolling furies overhead and the shambling skeletons roaming around.

They didn't have much time until sunrise. Once past the gates the three were only mildly impressed at the differences. The ground was clear of trash and the air was marginally clearer but it was still a far cry from what they would consider paradise. Cobblestone paths led to cozy cottages, sleek mansions, and miniature castles. Spirits trailed up and down in pairings or groups, smiling and laughing. None of them paying attention to the trio of elderly women shuffling around together.

"I'd feel bad removing any of them who are happy here." Lachesis whispered as her eyes trailed over a pair of miracle children nearby.

The girl was obviously a daughter of love. Her dark hair was wild and windswept as she lay curled in the arms of a bulky young man. A son of the forge god perhaps? He was looking down at his lover with a soft smile as they whispered words of love and care to each other. They were seated together under a tree and looked quite content.

"I agree." Atropos looked over at a small group of heroes playfully sparing in an older section of paradise. Some of those wearing familiar looking chitons and tunics standing out among the pants and orange t-shirts of the newer spirits. "Let's look for some who would actually prefer to leave."

Clotho scowled, "They are only happy because they don't know any better." She complained.

"Let them keep their blissful ignorance." Atropos said sternly. "Keep an eye out for any lonely spirits."

"Hmph."

The trio explored the corners of Elysium looking for discontent. Hours after their search began, they found one isolated spirit.

A teen-aged boy. His hair was a pale blond color and he was alone on a grassy hill. He was barefoot and laying down with a bored, melancholy expression.

Clotho decided to approach him first. "Dearie?" Her voice was a far cry from her usual sharp tone, gentling into something sugar sweet and maternal.

The boy looked up at the three of them, his eyes were adorably wide and a unique shade of violet. "Hello? Did you need something?" He sat up as he noticed them. His legs crossing in front of him.

"No, dearie." Clotho stepped closer, the other two staying back but keeping their expressions kind and open. "My sisters and I just arrived here," She explained, "And well, I noticed that you seemed a bit down, dearie. Are you alright?"

The boy looked over the three old women and his eyes filled with a myriad of emotions. "You and your sisters came here together?" He said, more to himself than to them. "That's nice. I'm…I'm just waiting on my brother."

"Your brother? Is he still….?" Clotho let the question fall off.

"Yeah. He's still alive. He's at camp with our dad right now. And I'm fine to wait for him!" The boy explained quickly, "I'm good to wait for decades. But it- It's just that…We've never been apart. I just miss him y'know?" The boy looked down

"Oh dear." Clotho came closer to the boy and sat next to him. "I'm sorry. I can't imagine being apart from my sisters. You must be missing your brother."

"Yeah. I just….I just wish we could be together again. It…it doesn't feel right to be by myself, I guess."

"I understand. But you said he's with your father now right?"

"Yeah, Dionysus. They're at camp Half-Blood, but Pol is all alone in the cabin now."

"Camp Half-Blood? Where is that dear?"

The boy paused for a moment before explaining. "Oh, it's in New York. Dad's the director which is better than him being totally absent, but…"The boy's eyes were teary now. "I just…I just miss my brother, y'know."

"Oh sweet boy." Clotho wrapped an arm around the now crying boy. "Everything will be alright. Surely your father will comfort him?"

The boy scoffed wetly against her shoulder. "Dad…Dad isn't the best with emotions. Not even his own most days. I mean like, He's there yeah. He's at camp but he doesn't…I mean. I guess he cares but he just isn't…he isn't there emotionally, you know. For gods sake, I was at camp when I died. He was right there. If he couldn't stop his own kid from Dying then how can I trust him to help Pol through the grieving process?"

Behind them, Lachesis and Atropos shared a wide-eyed glance. A god was nearby…and ALLOWED his son to be killed?! And now he was unable or unwilling to support his surviving child's emotional needs?

How terrible were the gods of this world? Truly it was for the best that the three of them rescue as many children from them as they could!

Clotho kept up her act of cooing and shushing the crying boy. The poor child falling into her comforting care with a pitiful shake of his blonde hair.

Clotho caught her sisters' eyes. Lachesis and Atropos approached the crying boy with grandmotherly coos and shushing sounds. The boy pulled himself out of Clotho's arms. His eyes were puffy and red from crying. He turned to the affection they gave like a flower turns toward the sun. He lifted his arm to wipe his tears onto his purple sleeve.

The sweet boy didn't even see the bag before he was already inside it. Clotho pinched the stitch marker on it quickly.

His thread was a soft purple. Lovely and decadent.

Atropos stared at the unique color of the life thread, "Ooh how beautiful!"

"Purple? How delicate!" Lachesis cooed.

Clotho was vibrating with excitement, "Did you hear what he said? His brother is at Camp Half-Blood in New Jersey! That's where the other miracle children are!"

"But his father is also at the camp." Atropos countered, "With a god in residence, should we really risk it?"

Before Clotho could answer, Lachesis began to wring her hands. "The sun is going to rise in less than an hour. Hollow Eine is ending! We should leave now before we are noticed!"

Clotho scowled, "I wanted to get some more threads!" She complained but followed her sisters out of Elysium.

"We'll come back again, but we need to go now" Atropos hissed.

On their way out they passed an old man. His hair was bleached white but in a way that spoke of trauma rather than merely time. His face was creased with wrinkles but the pull of his peaceful expression seemed slightly unpracticed. He was resting in the shade of a tree. His eyes closed and restful as he kept a hand loosely combing the lush grass beside him. He was softly humming as he enjoyed the atmosphere of Elysium around him.

Clotho paused in her moves, nearly reaching the peaceful looking soul before Atropos pulled her away. "We need to go."

"Hmph." Clotho made noises of discontent the entire time as the trio slipped out of Elysium and down the shadowed paths of the underworld. Her grumbles and scoffs only quieting when Furies and Patrolling skeletons veered too close to their hiding spot.

Occasionally the three would split off from one another for a few minutes at a time as they made their way back to the river. Dodging skeletons, nose blind hell-hounds, and furies. Hiding behind mounds of garbage and trying not to trip over broken bottles and mildewed rags sticking out from the mud and sand.

Eventually, Atropos and Clotho were both back to the bank of the river again. While they waited for Lachesis to catch up, they began looking for a new place to cross the river. Testing the floating debris for stability.

"Wait!" Clotho pulled Atropos back from where she was testing her weight against a flipped over canoe sticking out of the muck and water.

"What is it now?"

"The camp! We have to go to the camp! Think of all the threads we could find! All together in one basket!" Her eyes were glittering with excitement.

Atropos sighed exasperatedly. "And how are we to do that with a god in residence at the camp?"

"A neglectful god!" Clotho waved her hand.

"A stupid god is still a god!" She countered.

The two sisters continued to argue back and forth until they noticed that Lachesis had arrived and was quietly watching their argument flipping back and forth between the two others.

"Where have you been?!" Atropos fretted over her.

"I found a cave. I got a bit lost and wandered in. It was covered in poppies though so I'm not sure how I missed it when we passed the first time."

Clotho scoffed, "Oh you found a cave? Is that really so important?"

"Shush and look what I found." Lachesis snapped back showing off a burgundy drawstring purse the size of a fist. The two others looked inside of the bag only to see a pile of silver dust and sand inside.

They shared a skeptical look, "That…is dirt."

"It's not dirt!"

"Then what is it supposed to be?" Clotho asked.

Lachesis tied the bag shut with a huff. "It's sleeping sand! I found it in a cave next to a sleeping god!"

"What!?"

"Shh! It was fine. He was asleep. Nobody noticed me. Look, Look! It even comes with directions!" She showed them a small tag tied to the stings of the bag.

Hypnos High Quality Sleep Sand!

A sprinkle is all you need for all-night restful sleep!

Not recommended for nightly use. Excessive usage can cause symptoms of Insomnia, Sleep Apnea, Narcolepsy, Somnambulism, Night Terrors, Hallucinations, and/or restless leg syndrome.

Dosage/usage recommendations

God: a dash

Demigod: a pinch

Mortal: a smidgen

Not recommended for monsters or spirits.

Please consult with Lord Hypnos, Lord Morpheus, or Lady Pasithea for further questions regarding usage/dosage or for refills. Hermes mailing address listed other side.

DREAMS NOT INCLUDED!

"This is how we are going to bypass the resident god at the camp!" Lachesis said triumphantly.

Clotho and Atropos exchanged shared expressions of astonishment. "Sister, this is perfect!"

"I know. Can we leave now? This place is disgusting."

With that, the three visiting Fates escaped the underworld with stolen life thread, sleeping sand, and mud on their slippers.

Chapter Text

Hermes Cyllenios : Mount Cyllene

Hermes left the mountain of Cyllene with a self satisfied smile. Fangs glinting in the afternoon sunlight.

His mother was as well as she always was. The nymphs charged with caring for her were as dutiful as ever. His foolish birth mother Maia was still as broken as she was the day of his birth. Both her hands ridged and clumsy clubs. Gnarled and clenched tightly together. Her mouth was dumb and drooling. Only allowing splutterings of gasps and groans to escape.

But her eyes were as clear as ever. The three nymphs he had charged with his mother's care ensured that her hair was clean and neatly combed. Her gowns simple and unable to tangle whenever his mother had one of her 'fits'. She was well fed and clean.

The three nymphs spoke of daily walks, shared meals, easy nights with his mother. The four becoming a sort of almost family in their time together all these centuries. In response, Hermes began to view the three attendants as almost sisters caring for their shared mother. (He had declared to others on Olympus that they were under his protection easily enough. None of the others had any interest to visit the mountain after all)

He had brought new stories and scrolls of information for the four to enjoy. New jewels that he had 'acquired' on his travels to adorn all of their hair. Only simple pins and curved designs for his mother of course; no jagged edges that could catch or tangle if she lashed out in frustration as she often did. The nymphs each received their own jewelry sets in their preferred colors (green, yellow, and blue respectively).

Hermes would be hard pressed to say that he enjoyed visiting his mother's home. But he was a dutiful son and even through all the suffering Maia now endured because of her choice to sire him with his unwilling father, Hermes could still see the unending Love his mother had for him even now.

As much as she suffered each day. Maia never ceased in her pride and love for her son.

If Gods could be humbled, the feeling that Hermes had each time his mother's eyes lit up at the sight of his arrivals would be the closest he had ever come to it.

But he wouldn't lie and say that he wasn't relieved when he left the mountain and turned back to Olympus. His mother's state of being was a stark and painful reminder of the cost of siring a child. One that every god knew well and was loathed to remember.

The Olympian palace was as extravagant and opulent as ever. Nymphs and satyrs bustled up and down the paths traveling to and from various palace temples.

One young satyr stumbled under the weight of the jug that he was holding. Hermes took the time to help steady him. (Hermes had more than a small affection for satyrs. After all, his son Pan was responsible for them.)

Pan…Hermes wandered over to the 'wild' section of Olympus where his son was often found. The wings on his taloned feet were flapping with happiness at the thought of his son.

Hermes was a god luckier than most and he knew it. None of his other brothers or sisters (though as declared maidens he didn't think they counted) were lucky enough to have a living child.

Pan was a rustic god. Preferring the company of trees and his own satyrs to any others; But he could be persuaded to reside on Olympus most days.

Although Hermes had to use all his trickery to convince his son to stay close to him and the other gods. A feat which became harder and harder each passing decade. Hermes knew he couldn't restrain his wild child forever but hoped to keep him nearby and safe a few centuries more.

Hermes knew that Pan longed for the unexplored wilds of the world. To live and breathe the wilderness and untouched lands beyond the horizon. But the thought of his child leaving his side left a bitter taste in Hermes' mouth. Even centuries after his birth, Hermes still saw Pan as the adorable bleating godling he was. All knobby knees and tiny horns peeking out from untamed curls.

Thankfully his son was as kind as he was wild and let his father coddle and keep him close. Though both gods pretended that Hermes never saw Pan slipping away with Dionysus to enjoy the occasional revelry outside of Olympus. So long as the two young gods were together and they didn't stay away too long. then their youthful escapades would continue.

The trees provided cool shade while shafts of gentle light broke through the foliage. Hermes picked his way around the trees and over the gnarled roots and plants around him. The talons on his feet only catching slightly on a few unfortunate grasses.

Hermes found his son lounging in a meadow accompanied by Dionysus. A contingent of drunken satyrs and half-mad maenads were dancing around them.

The two young gods were adorably drunk over Dio's latest creation. Empty amphorae littered the grass around them. Spilled wine leaking onto the grass like blood.

the two were so drunk they were singing some wordless song. Playing off each other drunkenly as though they were in perfect harmony (they weren't). Dio's riotous curls were tangled in a crown of ivy leaves and a grape vine tangled around the dark tail flicking behind him. Pan's leg fur and hooves were stained from spilled wine as their laughter tipped yet another cup over their heads. The spill was met with delighted surprised laughter from the pair.

Hermes approached with a smile stretching over his face. How cute these two were. The babies of the family.

"Hello there, darlings." Hermes cooed at them.

Dionysus' ears flicked back as he groaned and fell into the grass in a dramatic heap. "Ugh. No! Go away!" He complained. The slurring of his words not able to hide the smile on his face

Pan for his part, just began to laugh at them. Giggling drunkenly at Dionysus' antics. Hermes clucked fondly when his son drunkenly made grabby hands up at his father from the ground.

Hermes happily sat down next to him and curled his arms around his boy. Tucking Pan's head under his chin. Being mindful of the horns on his head. "Hello sweet boy. How are you doing today?" He cuddled his baby close.

Pan relaxed into his hold, immediately becoming a snuggly pile of godling. "Hi…Dio made drinks….reaaallly good drinks…"

Hermes chuckled, "I can see that. Are you having a good day playing with Dio?"

"Mmmhmm." Pan nodded sleepily, Hermes had to dodge the horns as he nodded. But eventually, his drowsy son fell asleep in his arms. The god cooed down at his son, -"My sweet boy."- before turning to his little brother who was still laying on the ground but had now rolled over and curled in a way that would be painful for anyone else. He was happily watching his half-dress maenads gyrate around the meadow. "Dio, are you doing okay?"

"Good drink…Yeah, Imma good. All good." Dio slurred from the ground. His eyes never leaving his followers antics.

"You remember that we have a meeting in a few minutes, right? Will you be alright to attend?"

"Mmmhmm. Fine…Imma good. Itll beee fine." Dionysus slurred as he struggled to push himself to his feet, swaying slightly with a cheery smile on his face.

Hermes chuckled and also stood up. Lifting Pan to sit comfortably in his arms, the godling still sleeping against his shoulder. "Let's walk together." Hermes offered easily. Gently guiding his swaying brother out of the woods.

Feeling the steady up and down of his son's breaths gave Hermes a feeling that he imagined mortals felt when in their presence. It was holy.

Hermes knew that he was lucky. And he was reminded of that fact often. Each time Apollo ran to father and mother to cry when his latest newborn died in his arms. Every time Ares screamed in outrage as his babes lost their battle for their lives. Each time Hephaestus would isolate himself in his own forge, working through his grief by crafting new things. Every time that Aphrodite would wail in misery as another beloved baby withered into sea foam in her hands. Each meeting when his aunt Demeter or uncle Hades would look over Hermes and his siblings or any of Poseidon's children with a painful kind of longing

Hermes held his son a little tighter as he carried him to the council room. He was a lucky god indeed.

Pan's birth was an ill advised venture to be sure. His father had warned them all time and again of the risks and pain associated with any attempt. But the longing for a child burned within all of them.

Hermes had at the time, foolishly thought his father to be exaggerating. Or perhaps overly cautious for his children to try. Thinking himself clever, Hermes had snuck away to craft a child in secret. Hidden in a far off forest from his father's sight. He carefully carved his desired child from the trunk of an evergreen tree. Making sure his hands were steady as he shaped the babies tiny nose and gently curved ears. Noting the best features from himself and trying to give his child a fine face.

Eventually the carving was done. He pulled out the secret mixture that his mother had once concocted for his own birth and split his flesh to add his ichor to the mix. Then he carefully coated the sculpture in the potion. The then pressed his divinity into it. Willing his child to life…

He had vastly underestimated the pain.

The birth left him gagging from the agony he was in. Breathless and drowning in the sudden and horrifying pain. His body jolted and spasm against his will. He wasn't sure when he fell to the ground, but between the gasps for air and the pain that left him half-blind he saw the roots and grass of the forest floor swell up to greet him.

The pain was so great he didn't even feel it as he crashed to the ground. Only barely remembering to curl around and brace the now squirming sculpture in his hands. Holding the now living, squalling, baby-still wet with golden ichor- to his chest to protect it. His limbs felt too tight and too numb to keep hold. The baby slipping from his hands to rest against his side and the ground beside him.

He felt half mad as he tried to wrenched at his domains for something to give to the squealing newborn curled next to him. Whatever plans and choices he had made before were swept away by the torrent of pain he was in now. He clawed at himself trying to loosen and detach something from his domains for his child. Ichor and sweat poured from him as Hermes managed to wrenched livestock and herding from himself. Breaking the domain in two with his haste. The tearing of it making him screech in pain.

Having a domain shared between him and his son eased some of the pain but not enough. The tiny life next to him was still draining away. Fear ate at him as his babies' bleating screaming began to quiet. Becoming softer and softer each moment.

Terror unlike any he had ever known at the idea of his baby- his baby-dying so pointlessly. Of his baby knowing nothing of life but suffering. The insurmountable fear seized Hermes like a vicious coiling snake. His breath came stuttering and frantic. His eyes rolled wildly in his head. Hermes hands shook as he continued to try to do Something to save his baby.

Suddenly, the terrible fear eased from inside him. And so did the agonizing drain on his divine life. Hermes tried to blink past his tears. His lashes felt glued together from what happened. He laid there on the forest floor dazed. The afternoon sun bright but only partly visible through the leaves and trees around him. (No doubt Apollo was already looking for him. It had been hours since Hermes had been seen by or heard from anyone.)

Hermes felt more tears slide past his eyes. His baby wasn't crying. The forest was quiet. The kind of quiet that every parent feared. The feathers around his ears and hair were ruffled and bent from the writhing and seizing that Hermes was forced through during this ordeal. His talons where clenched tightly and at least three of them had broken with the force of his lashing against himself and the ground.

Hermes shut his eyes again. Dreading the moment when he would have to turn over. When he would have to look at his dead baby. He knew he should call out for help. For his brothers or sisters. For his father. For someone in his family to come and hold him while he grieved but… Hermes couldn't do it. He couldn't let someone else swaddle his baby into his final sleep.

He had to do it.

Just as Hermes was gathering his courage to roll over, a giggle broke the silence.

His eyes shot open, pupils dilating into slits. His head jerked to the side. Then Hermes really began to cry.

For there next to him, laying curled in a next of green leaves and flowers was the most perfect being he had ever seen. Chubby cheeks, curly woolen hair with the tiniest horns peeking through, wide brown eyes. His baby was smiling at him with a gummy toothless grin.

With a swiftness that impressed even him, Hermes was up and cradling his baby, feeling the domains that were within him. Forestry/wilderness, livestock and shepherding, and just there, barely discernible now, that fear that had gripped Hermes moments before. The baby had found his own domains from the wilderness and the god around him.

Oh what a clever boy! (boy? Hermes checked, noted the unexpected but adorable hooves and fuzzy back legs too. Boy!) What a clever boy he had!

Hermes was the happiest he had ever been; holding his precious newborn in his arms. Even when he eventually left the shade of the forest and found himself bombarded by Apollo's fussing and whisking them away to Olympus, He couldn't stop smiling.

The worry in his father's eyes at his bedraggled state was soothed by the overwhelming Joy at Hermes introducing him to his first grandchild; Pan,God of wilderness and ranges. God of livestock and herding. God of Panic and Surprise. First grandchild of Olympus. First of the third generation of gods.

The meeting hall of Olympus was shining as always when the trio entered. Hermes greeted Aunt Hestia with a cheek kiss as he always did. As always, she was seated at the hearth in the center of the room with cushions and fresh bread for the meeting. Her long ears peeking out from under her golden-red veil. Hestia cooed at the three of the youngest gods with her usual affection. Pressing warm slices of bread and sweet pastries in their hands. "Boys." She greeted them warmly.

"Aunt, radiant as always. How are you?"

"Better now, seeing that you haven't gotten into yet more mischief to worry your family today."

"The day is still young. I think I could manage some mischief if needed."

Hestia laughed and let the three continue to their seats.

Hermes had moved to settle Dio into his cushioned throne- fruit filled vines curling around the seat-when his father blocked their path with a large hand.

Zeus looked on the three of them with a stern expression, "Indulging before our meetings again, Dionysus?"

Dionysus slurred as he blinked up at their father, "New resi- rekipp- recis…. New drink mix" he struggled through the sentence before huffing at the end of it. Blinking sleepily like the act of speaking exhausted him.

Zeus shook his head, bull horns rattling with the gold trinkets decorating it, as he snorted a laugh. "I suppose we can't trust you to pay attention if left alone, now can we?"

Before he could squirm away, Zeus scruffed the young god by the back of his neck and lifted him into a secure cuddle.

Dionysus wriggled unhappily. "Noooo…Lemme down…s'not Fair…" But he eventually settled into a moody but purring pile in their father's arms. Hera in her seat next to her husband, reaching over to scratch and card her fingers through his curls with an indulgent smile.

Hermes managed to get settled into his own throne easily enough. Quietly thankful that he was no longer the 'baby' of Zeus' children that Dionysus was now and could sneak away for his own machinations more often than not. He settled onto his throne and happily cuddled the still sleeping Pan.

Soon enough the rest of his family came in. Apollo and Ares each received cheek pecks and warm treats from Hestia when they entered. Hephaestus getting an indulgent forehead kiss and extra slice of bread slipped into his hand (Hermes just knew that he was her favorite; Though she'd never admit it.).

Aphrodite's' entrance was with a shower of red petals. Her dove wings tucked delicately around her hips and thighs. Her pearled skin shining and as eye catching as always. Hermes was distracted by her alluring figure as she settled into a lax lounging pose on her silken throne.

So distracted that he didn't notice Artemis, Athena, Demeter, or Hades entering until he was caught unexpected by his uncles pat on his head. "Good day little bird, how is the youngster?" Hades tired expression was concerned. "Is everything alright?"

Hermes knew that his concern was sincere, but he felt the tiniest twinge of unease. Though he was closer to Uncle Hades than Uncle Poseidon because of his Chthonic works, everyone remembered that Persephone died because Hades tried luring her away from her mother's grove. Though the attempt was unsuccessful, it was chilling to think of death claiming his own little kid.

Still, Hades was family and he hadn't done anything to Him. Demeter was cold enough toward him for the whole family at this point. Hermes pasted a comforting smile across his face. "Pan over indulged in Dio's latest drink. He just needs a good nap to sleep it off."

Hades visibly relaxed at the explanation. Hermes felt a sliver of guilt for his secret reluctance of his uncle at the sight of Hades' obvious relief.

"That's good." Hades' voice was low and steady. His canine ears relaxing from their formally 'alert' positions. His pupils relaxing . "Good day, little ones." He murmured before shuffling off to his own throne.

From across the room, (As far from Hades as Hera could arrange the seating) Demeter caught Hermes eyes and nodded to him in greeting. Her green eyes as cool and emotionally stagnant as ever. Her prominent eyelash spikes fluttering as she observed the room around her with a calm expression.

Hermes knew that she never truly recovered from losing her only child. Her formally warm and kind disposition eroding into something detached and cool. As though she was protecting herself from feeling anything so strongly again.

Hermes watched as Hera tried yet again to draw her sister into a conversation unsuccessfully.

Poseidon was the last to enter with a swirl of salt water dripping from each step. "Brother, Sister," The King of the Seas greeted his siblings with a familial nod. "Odd for you to call us from our realms with so little notice. What is happening?"

Zeus rumbled in answer. His hands gently patting the snoring drunken god in his hands. "Worrying news. From the Fates."

"The Fates?!" Multiple voices asked in shock.

"Peace. Please be seated."

The room rumbled as the gods sat uneasily in their places. Hermes began to card his hands through Pan's hand nervously. To his side, Apollo began preening and plucking his golden feathers into a growing pile around his throne.

"My family," Zeus began, "The Fates have left their loom."

"What?!"

"What do you mean?"

"How is that possible?!"

"Where are they?!"

Questions were flung from every corner of the room. A clap of thunder silencing them. Zeus raised one hand, the other holding the now wide awake Dionysus. His ears perked and his tail double its usual width with puffed up agitation. "Peace. My family. Be seated. They have not left within reason nor have they left without intention to return to us."

"Where are the old hags then?" Ares snorted in derision. Athena swatting him absently as she kept her silver eyes on their father.

"I do not know." Zeus admitted. "They have left a notice that they will return. With 'gifts to be treasured beyond gold or goals. The unobtained returned to rightful homes.' "

"A riddle?"

"A prophecy?" Hermes guessed. All eyes turned to Apollo who balked at the attention. "There is no prophecy in that!" He denied, "I have no idea what those three meddlers are doing."

Athena settled back into her seat quietly, her taloned fingertips tapping tapping tapping against her armrests. "The unobtained returned… gifts to be treasured…hmm"

"You have a thought, daughter?" Hera asked,

Hermes couldn't help himself, "I'm sure she has many, mother!"

The room's tension broke slightly as smiles and small laughs echoed around the room. Before the unease returned. Athena for her part only shook her head. "A few guesses. Nothing I would speak of. For fear of being wrong."

"Well, we have no better idea. Share it, Athena. Lest we wallow while waiting for the old women to return to their place." Ares huffed agitated.

Again, Athena shook her head. "No. If it…If I am wrong…no. No I will not guess. Best we wait and see what comes of their sojourn."

"Ever cautious." Hermes warned her teasingly. "No risks attempted, no rewards received, Sister."

"No gamble made, no loss endured." Athena snipped back. Uncharacteristically sharp with their brother.

Hermes blinked in surprise. It wasn't often he found himself the opponent of his sister's temper. He narrowed his eyes.

The others began to guess and argue the fates meanings around the room. Conversations scattering. Aphrodite whispering back and forth between Hephaestus and Ares. Demeter leaning closer to hear Hera's suspicions. Apollo and Artemis breaking off to lean on their father's throne to bat their guesses back and forth over his shoulders. Dionysus in his lap putting in his two drachmas. Poseidon, Hades, and Hestia gathered in the center to guess and wonder together. Hestia's worry clear in how she piled and more bread into her brothers palms. Eventually the two were left looking nauseous at the abundance of baked goods they were made to eat.

Only Athena and Hermes sat quiet on their thrones. Hermes staring across the room at his sister. Her expression…he had never seen it before…

Agent Sonia : West Virginia Police Department

Sonia Lawrence looked over the reports and files spread out in front of her on the bulletin board. Her sharp hazel eyes scanning all of the evidence on board.

The Hotel 'The Sleepy Inn' was an older building with no cameras except in the front office/check in desk. It didn't have a history of break-ins or violent incidents. There were no other similar incidents in the area. No indication of stalking or suspicious persons near the Gardner's. No traffic cams, clear witness reports, nothing. Even weeks after, Katie Gardner's body hasn't turned up.

Kyle Garner, the father, had been in a medically induced coma for almost a month and was discharged. The poor man had been devastated when he woke up and found that no progress had been made in his daughters' case.

Sonia knew that he temporarily closed his plant nursery in Kentucky and was renting a home in West Virginia to stay closer to the investigation. He was determined to find something about his daughter's case.

Sonia hated knowing that his efforts while inspiring…were pointless.

She looked over the camp phone number again. That pot-bellied detective Rogers had given it to her easily enough, but only after he already called and interviewed the 'assistance director Brunner' when he had turned it over. Typical behavior when sharing the investigation with an outside agency. Locals never saw her presence as 'help' only competition or stepping on toes. Sonia liked to think that maybe she'd get used to it someday. But for for now it was only a hindrance and annoyance as she tried to do her job.

She didn't have to heart to tell Rogers that he'd never close this case. She knew that phone number. She knew the 'Mr. Brunner' he had spoken to.

It had been a few years since she was at camp but Sonia Lawrence knew the tragedies that followed Demigods outside of it's borders. She was 30 now. It had been nearly two decades since she last stepped foot in camp. When she left that crowded and barely habitable cabin 11. Her mother was only a 'minor' goddess; Themis, Goddess of Justice and Divine Order. Which meant that since the day that Sonia had arrived at camp to when she had 'aged out' and left at 18; she was stuck in the Hermes cabin with the rest of the 'non-Olympian' demigods. Sharing a cabin with 20 other kids and teenagers was a nightmare and the last three years saw Sonia sleeping on the floor with a threadbare flannel sleeping bag every night.

Thankfully the only good thing about being a child of a minor god was how easy it was for Sonia to be ignored. Once she left she was as negligible as any other average if clear-sighted mortal. Monsters didn't come after her, dryads didn't bother her, she never had to deal with any random quest or adventure set by random gods. Sonia was invisible to gods, monsters, and anything else involved in that Greek nonsense that she left behind on her 18th birthday.

Until now.

Now Sonia was staring at a picture of a 17 year old girl and dealing with the painful understanding that she was working on a fruitless case.

Katie Gardner was dead.

She was dead and probably already had her shroud burned and her memory forgotten by those at camp. There were no suspects to question, no body to recover, no tearful reunion to hope and pray for at the end of this. The girl was dead and probably eaten by a trio of cyclops, laistrygonian giants, or kampe. Her father was either confused by the mist or in active denial of Katie's fate. Leaving Sonia working a pointless case. And she still had to work it despite already knowing the outcome.

It rankled at her inherent need to pursue justice (unhelpfully inherited from her mother and truly one of the only things Themis had given her even after claiming her). But how could Sonia explain to the irritable detectives or her supervisor that Katie was dead and they were never going to recover a body?

She couldn't. Which meant Sonia had at least another 3 weeks tracing through mist addled witness reports, innocent suspect interviews that would go nowhere, and scanning hours upon hours of grainy footage from the diner and the various traffic cams documenting the last hours of a little girls final day alive. She had to maintain the illusion that she was still actively searching for Katie's' killer before eventually declaring the case 'too cold' and leaving it in a file cabinet in her office with the other 'cold' cases that she had unwillingly collected from the final days of other demigods.

From behind her, Sonia heard Detective Rogers shuffle into the precinct. As he had every day since the case began, he was staying late and coming in early hunting for new leads and trying to 'keep ahead' of the 'stuck-up' FBI agent he was unwillingly cooperating with for the investigation.

"Early start?" He gruffed at her while inhaling a extra large thermos of coffee.

"Late night?" Sonia quipped back dully. It had been months of this back and forth with him and she was so over it.

"Find anything new?" He questioned. Sonia shook her head.

"We cleared the waitress and the cooks of the diner. Even the dishwasher had an alibi. They stopped for gas in Carlisle so I wanted to run the plates of the other cars again and see if we get anything on this time."

Rogers scoffed at her. "We've already done that. No priors, no records on any of the cars."

"Maybe it was borrowed? A pedophile taking grandma's or aunties car for a day and seeing Katie and deciding to follow her?"

"That's a stretch."

"Well, if you've got a better trail to follow, I'm all ears."

"Humph." Rogers unhelpfully huffed as he moved to start collecting the list of cars seen around the Gardner's. Sonia turned back to the board. Her eyes catching picture of Katie again.

She was so close. 17. Nearly aged out and able to escape the death trap that camp represented. Demeter's kids were never very powerful and often got away with returning back to mortal living with very little issues after their childhood scent faded into the background. Katie was so close to getting out of that world. But it was too late now.

With a sigh, Sonia turned away from the board and joined Rogers in following pointless leads and chasing wisps of smoke.

Gods she was tired…

Demeter: Olympus

"Please, just let me check!" Demeter shrieked at her brother. Her wheat colored hair was pulled from it's usual braid and tangled wildly around her head. Her eyes were wild and desperate as she screamed her plea to her family.

"Absolutely not. You know that you are not permitted to visit the Underworld while it's Queen is in residence." Zeus was stone faced as he rumbled his response. His expression saying quite plainly how boring he found her behavior.

Hera at least played at the charade of being a responsible monarch and caring sister. Her plucked brow were gently furrowed as her voice was cool and politely empathetic. "Sister, I understand your sadness but losing a demigod is no cause to repeal the decision to bar you from the Underworld after the last…incidences"

The incident in question was from 1709 when Demeter visited her daughter for a few days (Hades would argue that it was weeks, but how can one be expected to keep track of days in such a dismal realm?) and was escorted from the Underworld by Alecto and her sisters.

When she tried to visit again a few years later, Hades actually went to Zeus to complain that Demeter was impeding their original agreement for separated time with Persephone. Which ended with Zeus declaring that Demeter was never permitted to visit the underworld during the time when Persephone was with her husband.

Later the mortals would deem the times after her ejection as the Great Frost of 1709 and the Great Winter of 1718. But that wasn't important.

What was important was that Hades had stolen another of her daughters! Her sweet Katie was Gone. Not dead. She had been Stolen! The Daffodil plant that she had tied to Katie's life was gone.

The soil in it's pot was devoid of the life giving properties that Demeter had infused it with. The unique mixture she used to promote their growth and muffle their half divine presence to protect them from vicious monsters and the lecherous gaze of gods. All that was left of the precious soil was an ashy colored mix of sand. All the life sucked from it.

It was obvious that Hades sought to steal another of Demeter's daughters for his lustful means! To have a Queen in the winter and a Mistress in the summer to sate his appetite!

Demeter would not- COULD NOT- let this stand!

She tried approaching Zeus for justice. For her brother to uphold the law as was his domain. Her daughter…her sweet Katie had been stolen! Surely such a theft must be answered for?!

But instead of listening just as before, Zeus seemed deaf to her cause. Uncaring of her pain. Hera only slightly more helpful this time. (Demeter recalled Hera being much more combative due to her Persephone's parentage back then.)

Still though, nobody would help her! The other gods all insisted that Katie was dead and in Elysium or the fields of Asphodel. Blind to the fact that her brother had once again stolen her Child!

Demeter shrieked again at her brother and sister. The so-called King and Queen of Olympus. "My Daughter! She wasn't killed by a monster! She was Taken! Listen to me and care about someone other than yourselves for ONCE your Existence!"

The room shook with the tremors of the ear splitting thunder crash from Zeus. "SILENCE!!"

The Meeting did not improve from there.

Chapter Text

WILL SOLACE: CAMP HALF-BLOOD

Will huffed in aggravation as he finished wrapping the last bandage. His back was killing him. His head ached. Today had been terrible but that was nothing new.

Things at camp were frankly awful right now. Ever since the end of summer there has been this unspoken tension making things weird around camp. To Will, it felt like the anticipation right before a storm broke outside the camp boundaries. There wasn't any sense in it; Nothing new had really happened, but something was making everyone uneasy. And uneasy demigods were never a good thing.

Likely because of the weirdness in the air, there was another camp-wide prank war happening. Rumors about relationships and small thefts were flying around camp. Alliances had been made and broken again and again in hours over the last few days. Everything carefully concealed from Mr. D and Chirons' gaze. Meal times were unusually calm but everything else was free game it seemed.

Even Cabin 4 was getting in on it. Usually they didn't bother, but Mitchell and Sarah seemed to be channeling their grief about Katie in growing random 'trip wire' vines throughout camp. And he knew but couldn't prove that Miranda had been growing patches of poison ivy around the training ground benches. Ares campers were coming to the infirmary on the daily with red patchy rashes on their legs and ankles. Sherman had the misfortune of tripping over the bench and ending up with poison ivy all over his hands and face yesterday.

Pranks were getting more and more excessive and damaging every day. Physical fights and outright screaming matches were breaking out outside of the training grounds at random times. Arts and crafts projects were sabotaged. Personal property was stolen or outright destroyed. Tensions were sky high at camp right now. Everyone was tense and nobody was trusted.

The only reprieve Will had was that the Stolls weren't actively making things worse.

Though the silence from the pair was it's own kind of terrifying.

Today, a few Ares campers had sabotaged the Aphrodite cabin hair dryers. Filling them with flour and salt. It made a heck of a mess and caused many of the hair dryers to explode. Which resulted in multiple campers with minor burns on their face and hands.

Normally, Will would just bandage them up with some gauze and ointment and be done, but every single of the cabin 10 kids were fussing about blisters and scars and uneven skin tones. It made each exam and treatment take hours and effort (and extra healing hymns to his father) to finish.

Will was mentally and physically exhausted by the end of it. He was sweating horribly and knew. That his skin would be fever flushed for hours until he 'cooled off' from using his healing abilities. The relief he felt when the last Aphrodite camper left the infirmary was immense. He slumped against the nearest cot. Waving his hands to cool off his sweaty face.

"Long day?"

Will looked up to see Nico leaning against the doorframe. His boyfriend looked as handsome and spooky as always. If a little thinner than the last time he saw him.

"The longest." Will huffed before narrowing his eyes at Nico, "When was the last time yah ate somethin' ?" His southern twang increased as his eyes roved up and down his boyfriend.

"Yesterday." Nico said quickly. Too quickly. Dark eyes twitched away from Will guiltily.

Will tilted his head suspiciously at him, "What did yah eat, then?"

The pale demigod turned his face away from the suspicious Texan "…some jerky."

"Damn it Nico. Food! Real Food! You're gonna end up with scurvy at this rate!"

Nico rolled his eyes, "It's not that bad."

Will huffed. Lunch and dinner had already passed. He scrunched his face thinking of how he could get some fruit into Nico. "You need to eat better…." Will looked up at his boyfriend. "There's a Subway a few miles outside of camp. Let's go get somethin' for ya."

Nico narrowed his eyes, "A subway? Is that a restaurant? It's almost curfew, how will we get back without getting caught?"

"You can shadow travel us back into the infirmary. We can just sleep here for tonight."

"All this for some fruit?" Nico teased,

Will raised an eyebrow, his freckles scrunching. "Want me to go over what scurvy looks like?"

Nico wisely backed up, holding his hands in surrender. "No no! Let's go then."

Will grabbed his backpack, checked the pouch for mortal bills, and then took Nico's hand. "Let's go!"

The next few hours, saw the two sitting in a mildly sticky booth at Subway eating sandwiches and laughing.

Will pushed another bowl of salad toward his boyfriend. "This one has chicken and tomatoes. Try it."

Nico smirked as he took a bite. "Fine fine. What is your obsession with tomatoes?"

"They're good for you." Will twisted his upper body to look over his shoulder at the overhead menu. "I think I'm going to try the chicken avocado thing next."

Nico grumbled around a mouthful of tomatoes. "Aren't you full yet?"

"We'll get something to go for a late night snack before going back to camp. Do you want a wrap or another sandwich?"

"…a wrap."

"Let's get yah two." Will got up to order. "Which one?"

"Grilled chicken and a spicy Italian."

Will smirked over his shoulder, making Nico dramatically groan, regretting his choice of wrap, "Don't say it!"

"Spicy Italian says what?"

"I hate you."

"Nah. I don' think so." Will laughed the entire way to the counter to make their order.

PERCY JACKSON: CAMP HALF-BLOOD

Percy dropped his bag onto his bed. Cabin Three smelled like a sea breeze as always. He took a bracing breath and smiled. "Good to be back."

A knock at the door made him twist to look. Annabeth was loitering in the open door. Just shy of entering. Despite them dating, Poseidon was still tetchy about any Athena campers entering his cabin uninvited.

"Hey Seaweed Brain, What are you doing in camp?"

Percy reached over and tugged Annabeth over the threshold to pull her into a hug. Her blue sweater had a complex design of olive leaves and feathers. Probably Malcolm's work since his wise girl didn't inherit her mother's 'weaving' talents. "Wise girl, Missed you." He greeted her while burying his face into her hair.

Annabeth had had her hair redone since he had gone back home to manhattan. Now her hair was tied into hundreds of teeny tiny braids. A couple of the braids were decorated with small rings of gold. It complimented the color change of her hair. Halfway down her dark hair faded into soft blonde. (The same blonde all of Athena's children had regardless of their mortal parents ethnicity) The silver streaks that they shared from holding the sky glittered through the braids. "Your hairs' nice." He complimented, leaning back to peck a kiss to her brow.

Annabeth's eyes squinted as she pursed her lips. Obviously fighting a smile. "Thanks. Now why are you back? Weren't you spending Christmas and all that with your mom and Paul?"

"That was the plan but…"

"But?" She pressed.

"Y'know how mom is expecting?" He asked, Annabeth nodded at him. Her expression cautious now, bracing for bad news. "Yeah? What happened?"

Percy shook his head quickly. Knowing where her mind went. (Annabeth always assumed the worst. Not that she was usually wrong but still!) "Nothing bad!" He assured her. "Mom found out the gender. That's all."

"…AND?" Annabeth's expression lightened as she shook him a little. "Tell me? Brother or sister?"

"I'm getting a baby sister." He grinned.

Annabeth joined him in laughing happily. "Congrats! That's great!" She tilted her head again, slightly resembling an owl. "But why are you here for that? You could have sent an Iris message?"

"Yeah; but Mom and Paul were so happy and I think they needed a little space to celebrate."

His wise girl's face shuttered, "Did they tell you they needed space?" She asked. No doubt remembering the own isolation she went through with her stepmom and half-siblings.

"No! No nothing like that!" He rushed to reassure her, "It's just, well…the apartment walls are kinda…thin?" He shrugged awkwardly.

Annabeth flushed as she realized his meaning. "Oh."

"Yeeeah. So…I'm gonna be at camp for a few days. At least until Christmas Eve." Percy pulled Annabeth over to sit with him on his bed to relax.

"So you'll be here for the Winter Solstice." She said with a little smile.

Percy looked confused. Annabeth rolled her eyes before explaining. "The solstice is on December 20th."

"I knew that."

"You didn't."

"Yeah, I didn't" He sassed at her with a crooked smile. "What have you been up to since I've been gone?" He looped an arm over her shoulder.

"This and that. Working on cabin designs. Cabin 9 has been building a new workshop closer to camp to expand their work outside of Bunker 9. Leo's bossing everyone around."

"Good for him. So things have been good?"

Annabeth hesitated, making the smile Percy had slip away. "Annabeth? What's going on?"

"I-. Nothing really. Things at camp have just been…weird, I guess."

"Weird how?"

"Arguments. Fights. Pranks that are a little rougher than normal. Nothing too strange, but it's all happening at once. I don't think there's one cabin that's not fighting another right now."

Percy looked concerned. "That's…that's not normal? What's Chiron and Mr. D doing about it?"

"Nothing. Chiron hasn't really noticed because nobody is going to 'tattle' and are just handling it themselves. If Mr. D has noticed anything, then he doesn't care."

"Why is everyone fighting?"

"I'm not sure. There's not a big reason from what I can tell. Just a lot of little annoyances that are boiling over. There's a new camper Liam who just got claimed for cabin 16. Maybe he's unintentionally making things a little tense? He's only 10 after all."

It took Percy a second to go down the minor god roster/cabin list in his head. Cabin 16 was Nemesis. "That makes sense. Is Damien going to help get his abilities under control?" Damian was counselor for the cabin of two -now three- boys.

"I tried talking to him about it but he bit my head off for it. Said that I was 'blaming' his brother for nothing. It'll blow over soon enough."

"How'd you figure?"

"Solstices means the camp field trip to Olympus. Nemesis will get her kids together and work on whatever Liam is doing right now."

Percy looked interested. That's right. Solstices were when demigods could go and visit Olympus and have a sleepover with their parents. He actually hadn't ever been at Olympus for the Solstices party before. He was always either with his mom, on a quest, or in New Rome. "That's good. Anything else?"

Annabeth and Percy stayed and chatted for hours while she caught him up on the goings on with camp. Eventually, they relaxed back onto his bed and fell asleep curled around each other.

CAMP HALF-BLOOD

Twilight at camp was quiet. Not peaceful, not silent. But quiet. Harpies lazily crawled above the cabins as they quietly patrolled the camp. Eyes watchful for stray campers out after curfew. Not that there was any light to see by. The moon was new and deep darkness had swallowed the camp completely. Only the softly silver gleaming cabin 8 and the occasional sparkle of snowfall caught in starlight provided any light.

Inside the cabins, sleeping kids and teens were slipping into Hypnos domain one after another. A few veterans of the last war were kept awake late into the night. Staring at wooden beam ceilings as memories of painful experiences flashed over their mind's eye.

The big house had the resident god already asleep. Chiron was also drifting through the beginnings of dreams.

Camp was quiet.

Nobody was awake or aware of the three shadows lingering at the edges of the camp. Hiding in the shadows of the trees lining the hillside.

Lachesis' mouth was open in shock. "Can you believe this?" She breathed out. Bespectacled eyes roving over the many little cabins scattered over the area.

Atropos shook her head in amazement. "So many. There's so many."

"Let's take them all." Clotho eagerly surged forward.

Atropos threw out her arm to halt her sister with a stern glare. "No. We will not." She hissed at her.

Her sister scoffed, "But we can." She pressed. "Our sister's bag of dirt will quiet all those here."

"Don't call it a dirt bag. It's sleep sand."

"Beach dirt." Clotho snipped at her quieter sister over her shoulder before looking at Atropos again. "Look at this camp." She pressed, "It's fit to burst with threads that the wasteful ones don't pay attention to. Why shouldn't we fill our bag to the brim?" Her eyes were wild with a senseless kind of glee.

Atropos took a bracing breath. "Because," She spoke slowly and intently, "If we take all the threads then the Others will notice us all the sooner." She waved a hand out toward the camp, "Yes, for now the wasteful gods are not paying attention to these miracle children. They leave them unprotected and easy for the taking. But what if we do take our fill? They will lock them away and guard them and we will be unable to take anymore."

Clotho scoffed disbelievingly, "I doubt that."

Atropos leveled her with a stern look, "And what of ourselves? If we noticed that the threads for our weaving work were stolen? What would we do?" Her tone made it clear she was wasn't speaking of the three of them directly but their counterparts of this world.

Lachesis whispered from behind her two arguing sisters, "We would hide them. Lock them away. Keep them safe somehow."

"Exactly. Better to take only a few at a time. Limit it and return home on the solstice. And come back for more later."

Clotho huffed unhappily. "Fine."

Atropos settled her sister with another hard stare. "Sister, Please. We take no more than what will not be noticed. Only a few this time. Promise me."

"…Fine. I promise. Just a few each." Clotho reluctantly agreed. Thinking about the four or five threads she would limit herself to on this trip.

This plan was shattered when Atropos said, "One each."

"One?!" Clotho's head jerked up in shock. "That's too little!"

"Too many is too noticeable. Remember there is a god in residence down there. We will be careful and only take one each!" Atropos pressed insistently.

Clotho's wrinkle face flushed with anger. Her curled hair frizzed as fury rattled through her. "Fine."

"Now then, La-" Atropos strangled the name on her lips. Both her sisters staring at her with wide eyes. "Sorry. Sorry." Better not draw the attention of this worlds Fates. "Sister," Her narrow eyes pinned on her sister Lachesis. "Please spread the sand you have obtained. Let none here rise from their slumber during our visit. Let them sleep through our endeavors."

Lachesis nodded and stepped forward. Reaching into the sand bag she waited until the night breeze picked up to release the sand onto the wind. Watching the silver glittering particles dance over the camp beneath them.

The trio of world visitors shifted. No longer appearing as harmless old women in cardigans and slippers. Now they were shadows. Pulling and clinging like smoke and pulsating formless mist.

The dark mist followed after the silver sand finished drifting and settling over the camp.

In the Big House, Dionysus let out a full body sigh has he fell into a deeper sleep. The small degrees of wakefulness that he kept around the camp slipped away. The dream lingering at the edge of his mind hooked deeper into him as heavier sleep fell over him.

Dionysus didn't know or care where he was at the moment. Some field or meadow someplace. He was sitting on a mound of cushions and blankets with his maenads dancing and singing around him. Ariadne, his wife was lounging next to him. Her breasts bared. Her hair loose and tossed wildly around her head and shoulders. A slip of wine stained silk covering her womanhood. Dionysus leaned down to kiss his wife's brow. "Love." He murmured sweetly. The intoxicating haze he had been denied for so long was gently blurring his sight. A few blinks cleared his eyes and he looked again at his wife.

Her breasts were still bare but not unoccupied. Two leopard cubs were suckling at her chest. Glowing violet eyes sleepily peering up at him over her shoulder.

"Aren't our sons beautiful?" Ariadne's voice was as intoxicating as any wine he made. It curled around his heart, making him hum in agreement before he understood her words. "Hmm…wait, our sons?"

He blinked again at the cubs looking closer. The god struck dumb as realization swept over him.. "…Castor?…Pollux?" He whispered in amazement.

The cub's began to purr in sync at their names, neither stopping their nursing from their new mother. Dionysus curled himself more securely around his wife and children. The nursing cubs glowed with blessed immortality. Minor godhood shining around them.

He could think of nowhere he wished to be more. Holding his wife in his arms; The two now no longer separated because of his punishment. His sons; Immortal and safe from his uncles' kingdom forever more. Wine sweetly scenting the air. His domain was renewed and refreshed. His family safe and together.

Was there anything closer to Elysium that a god could obtain? Probably not.

This was paradise…

On the other side of camp, the smoke shadows crept closer. Poking and prodding at the frayed and half-forgotten protections and claims made on the various buildings. The newer buildings were filled with the shades of unfamiliar divinities. The three shadows passed over these cabins with barely a pause.

Clotho's shadow surged forward at the sight of a cabin covered in grape vines. The greenery still vibrant despite the frigid cold in the air. Thick and heavy dark fruit hung from the vines. The shadow seeped from the cracks beneath the doorframe. Curling around the metal bed frame that held the single occupant of the cabin.

A slight teenager with dull tangled blonde hair and heavy eye bags. He was asleep like the rest of the camp residents but it was clear he hadn't slept well in weeks. Maybe months.

His arms were curled around two stuffed horses. Well worn and obviously loved.

"Sweet purple. As brilliant as any amethyst…" Clotho breathed as she crept closer. Her hands (still shadowed and barely physical) gently touched the tangled curls swept over the pillow. "You and your brother will be safe and loved in our realm. No more suffering. No more sorrow. Only the sweetest of dreams lay ahead…"

With a quick hand a stitch clip was pinned on him and the vibrant purple thread was dropped into the small bag. She turned to leave when one of the stuffed animals fell to the ground with a small 'fumph'

She paused and looked back at the toy. A child's proof of parental love. His father's claim lovingly shining through every stitch.

Should she take it with her? Provide the twin children with a familiar thing in their new home?

Even before the thought could fully settle, she shook it away.

What reason would they need for these half-thought out, grubby little things. The barely considered care of their 'father'? No. Their new- their real- Father will give them much better things.

Clotho left the cabin with an empty bed. One stuffed horse still laying on the bed. The other flung to the floor. One plush hoof extended as though reaching for the door and the boy stolen from them.

Atropos came next, taking the bag and slipping to the next cabin. The front windows had rags pressed against the frames. Likely an attempt to keep the winter air out. Still, the smoke she was now, slipped through the thin openings between the glass and wood easily enough. The building was worn. Very worn. Looking as tired as a building could look.

And on the inside, it was crowded. Each child had a bed, but the mattresses were angled close together to make room. Barely a few inches in between each bed. Bundles of random blankets and pillows were obviously coveted by whomever had them. Many children were bundled in their winter wear even while sleeping. Mittens and hats pulled over hands and heads. Many a nose was red with the cold.

She lingered by the door, happily surprised and pleased by the abundance of options she had. And displeased by the state of these unfortunate miracles. Neglected by their father and patron.

Overwhelmed at the options, she stayed by the door, looking over the many little faces. Her attention was drawn to two miracle children curled together within easy reach. Their twin mattresses pushed together into a larger sleeping space then the other children.

Two boys with matching curly honey brown hair. Thin angular faces and full lips that seemed familiar with easy smiles. She wished so much to take both but she was the one who set the rule 'one thread each'. It would be unfair if she took two.

Unable to resist, Atropos silently promised to return for the complimentary thread she'd be leaving behind. She reached down and clipped the closer of the two.

Cornflower blue eyes snapped open. Pinning Atropos with a shocked stare.

Formless Fate froze. Bracing for the teen to scream, struggle, to cause a ruckus and awaken all the children around them.

But he didn't.

After a long moment, staring at each other, Atropos realized the boy was still asleep (more or less). He wasn't going to move.

Atropos, as ephemeral as smoke, continued to pull the clipped thread out of bed he shared with his brother. Tucking the thread into her bag, Atropos slipped away from the cabin quickly. Leaving the still staring boy laying prone in his bed. Blue eyes following her as she faded out the door.

The trio of shadows rejoined together outside of that cabin and continued exploring. While passing the long building with the sign 'Infirmary' in front, a sound startled the three.

Was it the resident god? Already awake and coming for them? The three shadows ducked under the porch of the infirmary to hide.

(In reality it was a Harpy. Stationed on top of the infirmary but sleeping heavily from the drifting sleep sand released. The once perched Harpy was now laying splayed out on the shingles of the rooftop. Her talons- twitching as she dreamy of chasing birds-scraped against the shingles around her.)

One of the shadows pushed at another, snatching the bag from the third and passing it over. The pushed shadow reluctantly wriggled up through the floorboard of the infirmary, not expecting to find anything.

Surprised but pleased, Lachesis approached the cot where there were not one but two sleeping children. One dark as shadow, the other bright as sunshine. Looking like they both fell to the bed and fell asleep without expecting to sleep. Likely caught off guard by the sleep sand. Their boots still on their feet (matching laces in lavender shades), the blondes backpack was still hoisted over his shoulders. The raven-haired boy was pinned under the blonde with the freckled boy drooling over his shoulder.

Decisions…decisions…Unable to choose between her two options, Lachesis moved closer. Which thread should she take? The enticing shifting shades of yellow-gold or the mesmerizing ombré of onyx and bronze?

She hesitated; unable to choose…both were so pretty. So complimentary. The closeness of the two threads bringing out the lovely dulcet-toned harmony between the two. It'd be such a shame to separate them.

Another scraping sound startled Lachesis into moving. She grabbed two stitch clips and quickly pinned the pair of them and hoisted them into the bag. Wincing at the thought of how angry Clotho would be when she saw she grabbed two.

But the sound above her motivated her to move faster. Better an angry sister than and righteously furious god. She dove down with her taken threads in the bag. Disappearing into the darkness of the floorboards below to meet her sisters.

Feeling the aura of grapes intensify as the false sunrise began to break over camp, the three fled camp; Disappearing into the surrounding darkness with no trace of them left behind.

Inside the Big House, Dionysus bolted up from bed, feeling like he had just dropped from a great height. Something was Wrong. He felt it in the air. The air itself felt off and while not painful. It was Wrong

The god flung the blankets off of him as he flicked over to his cabin. Something was Wrong. Camp felt Wrong. The borders were holding, the wards still strong, but he could feel that fundamentally; something was Wrong!

It had been days (weeks? Maybe?) since he last entered his cabin to visit one-on-one with his only living son. Pollux had been understandably depressed after losing his brother and it frankly hurt to see his face and not have a mirror image of Castor nearby.

But something in camp was Wrong and he needed to see his son. He had to check. He had to make sure he still had one of his cubs nearby.

As he flung open the cabin door, -expecting to jolt his son awake and endure a few hisses of aggrieved and suddenly woken teen- his dream flashed inside his mind's eye. His two little leopard cubs, safe and immortal in his grasp…

But the cabin was empty. Pollux's bed was empty. His blanket flung out like he had just rolled out of bed. But…but…

His cabin was EMPTY!

Laying on the wooden floor was Castor's stuffed horsey. The same toy that Dionysus had made himself for his newborn sons. The same toy that Pollux had begun to sleep with ever since the battle of the labyrinth.

The glossy button eyes stared up at the god as he began to scream at the empty room.

TRAVIS: CAMP HALF-BLOOD

Travis had never been so scared in his life. Not during the war. Not during quests. Not while fighting monsters. Not a single other moment in his life had he ever felt more terror than whatever that was last night.

He was sleeping. Actually deeply sleeping for the first time in weeks. It was nice. Until it wasn't.

He felt Conner shift in the middle of the night. Maybe he was cold? It was frigid and they moved their beds by the creaky window once it started getting cool around camp (As camp counselors they kinda had to) to keep the littles from getting frostbite. It helped that the two of them didn't care about sharing blankets to keep warm.

Normally, if Conner shifted position in the middle of the night, Travis would adjust instinctively. Barely waking up because it was so normal.

But not that night.

When he felt Conner move, it shifted something around Travis. Like walking through a spiderweb and feeling the drag of the silk web across his nose and cheeks. It woke him up but horrifyingly, he still couldn't move!

His eyes slammed open when he felt Conner fully move from the bed. Why was he getting up? It was too early to get up yet. It was too cold. Why was Conner getting out of bed?

Why couldn't he move?

Unable to move, to scream, to cry; Travis could only peer through the dark of the cabin and see as a shapeless cloud of black smoke enveloped his brother. Conner disappearing into the darkness like he was being swallowed up.

Travis wanted to fight. To scream. To save his brother! But he was trapped by whatever was happening. Only able to watch on helplessly as the smoke figure that took his brother disappeared.

He laid there for hours. Trapped in his own bed. Unable to get up and do something. Feeling the covers around him cool as Conner's body heat slowly faded away. Tears streaming down his face as he raged against his own helplessness.

It wasn't until a scream broke through the air of camp- Sounding like a mix between a wild-cats roar and a shriek- that Travis felt that he could move again.

And all he could do then was curl up further in his bed, clinging to the last bits of warmth from where his brother had been, and sobbed into his pillow.

Chapter Text

CHIRON- CAMP HALF BLOOD

Chiron was startled awake from a deep sleep with a blood curdling scream echoing through camp. In fact the scream -sounding more like the terrifying shrieks of a hunting wildcat- made every building in camp shudder with the divine fury and horror that it held.

Chiron kicked out to race toward the sound, though every instinct in him was wailing for him to flee. He had to charge forward to protect his charges. His hoof left a deep indent in the wall of the big house, unnoticed as the screen door slammed behind him.

Outside, the winter air was sharp. But despite the cold, grape vines had exploded along the camp pathways. Previously hardened and well packed down dirt churned with writhing plant life seeking to entangle any unwary passerby. Slush and ice failed to slow the divinely encouraged growth. Chiron crashed through the vines, trampling what he could and jumping over the more chaotic bunches.

Campers were trapped in their cabins by the vines. Panicked screaming and thuds from pounding fists came from within. Chiron saw a quick glimpse as he passed by that the Ares cabin had broken out one of their windows and one of them was trying to slip through the vines. Unsuccessfully it seemed as the greenery became a net to seal them back inside.

It only took a few thudding heartbeats for Chiron to find the source of the chaos.

Cabin 12 was something unimaginable. The wooden walls seem to sway like a ship at sea. Undulating back and forth like the cabin was breathing in and out. Vines of white and deep purple grapes writhed along the ground like snakes. Busches of fruit exploded randomly, staining the ground with sprays of wine that looked like blood. The wild-cat screaming had stopped. In it's place was a rumbling growl which ratcheted upwards in intensity as Chiron approached.

"Mr. D? Pollux? Has something happened?" Wary of getting to close, Chiron hesitated by the door.

Mr. D was crouched. Kneeling on the wooden floor. Hunched over something. Pollux? Chiron purposely allowed his front hoof to scrape against the wooden porch. Remaining careful distance from the obviously unstable god.

Mr.D's head tilted just slightly. Over his shoulder, Violent violet eyes pierced Chiron into place. The old trainer felt his head swim with nauseating dizziness. A thudding drumbeat began to pulse out from the air around him. Music? Why was there music now? The formally faint screaming from the trapped campers swelled into wordless song. What were they saying? He couldn't understand them. What was happening?

Absently, Chiron felt the heavy thud as his back half collapsed to the ground in a awkward sitting position. "Mr. D….stoppp…" Chiron felt himself slur drunkenly. His head still pulsing with music he knew wasn't there. The children in camp were still singing-screaming?- Screaming… they were screaming. They were scared.

"Dionysus…stop scaring the children…" he begged, "Tell me what happened…"

"he's gone…"A hoarse whisper came from unmoving lips.

"What?"

" he's…GOOOOOOoooOOOOONE!!!" The building scream echoed throughout camp. Making the ground shudder beneath them as more vines erupted from the earth. Chiron slammed his eyes shut as Mr. D's face, twisted now toward him, bent and warped into something grotesque and inhuman. A panther's maw with jagged too large and too many fangs. Wine leaking from violet glowing eyes in place of tears. The air around him wavered like it had been superheated. He felt nauseated. He felt terrified. He felt…elated.

Chiron forced himself to speak the words, "Let me help… please stop…"

Slowly…Over minutes that felt like days, madness webbed back from the waves that were rolling over the prone Centaur.

Slowly, he could focus again on Mr. D. No longer in his rebellious 'disgusting' form -as he called it- of a middle aged mortal man. Now he was back in his formally preferred form from before his punishment started. A Younger (perhaps early twenties)man with hair a riot of purple/black curls. His face chubby and rosy, eyes watercolor shades of purple. In his hand was one of the twins boyhood stuffed horse toys. The hands clenched around it like he feared someone would steal it. He was crouched over it still in a half feral position. Body heaving in pants.

"Where is Pollux?" Chiron asked warily. "He's gone?"

Dionysus heaved ragged breaths as he spoke. "My…my claim…my son…his scent…everything. It's gone. It's gone. He's gone. He's gone…he's gone…he's gone…" his explanation trailed off into incoherent mumbling as his control over his own domain slipped slightly from his grasp. The unfocused haze of insanity slipping over his eyes.

"Dionysus!" Chiron barked fearfully. It was never good when a god became too distress to contain his own domain.

The last time Chiron remembered seeing it was when Apollo's then favorite daughter Lorietta, was so close to obtaining godhood. With her acclaim and influence with her fellow demigods and among mortals; It was all but expected that she would become a minor goddess of poetry (Likely to be an attendant of Calliope; the Muse of such things.) with her work in Harlem with the Harlem Renaissance Poets which caused an explosion of inspiration for Poetry and for the century. Her very presence seemed to help words of beauty and invoking spirit bloom in the minds of those around her. Chiron remembered her as a steadfast and gentle-hearted kind of girl. At least, before her suffocating death at the hands of some mortal men in the late winter of 1918.

The loss of his daughter, so close to her ascension. In such a meaningless and pointless way broke something in Apollo. His rage and impotent anger reached the pinnacle heights when his attempt to ensure her place in Elysium was denied as she did not die as a hero, her soul being condemned to the fields. His appeal to Zeus was denied over and over until his rage overflowed. A disease which had before only affected the weaker mortals, exploded into a extreme epidemic that swept the nation in great and terrible waves.

The Mortals called it the "Spanish Influenza," those that knew better, referred to it as the Poets' Plague.

In his cabin, Dionysus was still heaving-panting really- as he struggled to contain himself. "My sons…" he whispered, his voice creaking and straining as his divinity leaked through the cracks of his mortal guise. "…my claim…their toys…their toys are empty…blank. There's nothing here. No scent. No aura. No trace of them…they're gone…" his voice settled into a hoarse whisper

Chiron hesitated before cautiously approaching. Just near enough to test the air around the stuffed horses he was clinging to. Just as he said; They were abnormally scentless. Just plain stuffed toys and not echoing with the devotion that they had had for years. Dionysus had personally grown and gathered the cotton stuffing, dyed the soft velveteen fabric, cut and sewn each piece of the pattern by hand. The two horses decorated the twins newborn cradles from their very first day.

And had sat guard by their pillows for the entirety of their lives. Dionysus' claim never fading or faltering. A silent and sincere showing of fatherly affection that was a cherished secret of the twins (who kept it private, not only as a family matter of Dionysus and his sons but out of sympathy for the campers around them that did Not receive even a modicum of the same affection from their godly parents).

And now the toy horses were empty. As plain and soulless as any toy plucked from the shelves of a mortal store.

Chiron reared back at the eerie blankness of the toy. "Wha?"

Before he could continue, pounding footsteps outside got their attention. He turned to the door, unconsciously placing himself between the entry and the unstable god within.

It was Percy. Panting and disheveled after fighting his way through the thicket of grape vines to the cabin. Behind him was Annabeth and Jason. All three were dirty and covered in dirt and scrapes from fighting their way out of the cabins and through the vines overtaking camp.

"Chiron! What's goin' on?!" Percy's native New York accent came out sharply as he panted at the cabin door, gripping Anaklusmos. Annabeth had both hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath. Jason was still upright admirably but he looked more than a little scuffed up and his sleep shirt was little more than a collar and sleeve with ragged strips hanging off of him. His glasses were askew but he didn't seem to notice. Clearly the three fought through the jungle of vines Dionysus had conjured.

Before Chiron could respond, Dionysus surged up from the cabin floor, his leopard throw looking more like a pelt as he pounced past Chiron to grip Percy by the shoulders with a frenzied desperation. "YOU!" He growled out, "It's always you! It's only ever been you since you've gotten here! So why is my son gone AND WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE?!"

"Mr. D! Let him go!" Annabeth had her dagger out, hesitating from attacking a god understandably but still willing to confront him for Percy. Her feet sliding as she tried slipping into his blind spot.

Jason for his part seemed frozen in the face of divine wrath. Eyes wide behind smudged glasses. His breath so caught he actually choked. His throat jolting as he struggled to stop coughing to avoid catching Mr. D's attention.

Percy had no such fear or respect. Showcasing his near suicidal disregard for the gods by literally head butting the god of madness without hesitation.

The unexpected act, thankfully seemed to jar Mr. D back to reality. Looking no worse for wear at the hit, he shoved a scowling Percy away from him "Get every camper to the big house NOW." He ordered before pushing out of the cabin and disappearing into the thicket of grapes. The cabin floor surged like a rolling wave to carry Chiron out and the door slammed shut behind him with a resounding thud.

"What the f-"

"Language." Chiron cut over Percy's swears. And honestly, he's been cursing worse than any sailor ever since the war and much to Chirons' dismay, the younger campers have started to emulate the 'savior of Olympus' in more ways than one. The teacher has been working (mostly unsuccessfully) to curb the habit from the source. Leading to increasing friction between them.

"Is this really the time to talk about my language?" Percy sassed at him, "Mr D just went nuts?! Where's Pollux? What's happenin'?"

"I'm not sure yet. Mr. D wants everyone assembled at the big house. Let's just get that done first."

"You can't be serious!? He's out of his mind and you want everyone to just Line up for him?"

"Percy! Stop arguing and Just Do It." Chiron snapped back, uncharacteristically harsh. The sharp tone seemed to jar Percy. The demigod jerking back and staring at him. Not his patented 'wolf stare' that he and Jason had unfortunately been teaching the younger campers but an eerie blank look. The kind of look that screamed of disappointment but not surprise.

As a teacher, Chiron knew that look. He had seen more than his fair share of it. It was the look of a child losing faith in an adult. The same look Chiron got when he refused to send out rescue parties, or denied decorated shrouds for the unclaimed, or advised surviving siblings of another camper's death. It was the look of broken trust and lost faith. And once he's given that look- in all his centuries of teaching- Chiron has never been able to reclaim that trust.

And he had lost the final thread of Percy's trust.

"Fine." The boy barked at him, like the snap of a sea-lion's maw, before stomping off toward the nearby cabin 11 to free the campers inside. Annabeth hesitated for a moment, gray eyes darting at him before following behind him. Jason following her with only a slight respectful nod toward Chiron.

Chiron sighed, he was exhausted.

A PARK IN NEW YORK

Lachesis winced as Clotho glared at her. Her little…mistake from the infirmary was found when Atropos opened the bag to inspect their new threads.

Onyx and Bronze bundle. A Yellow-Gold ombre. Sturdy Creme speckled and splashed with exciting Orange. And vibrant and luxurious Purple.

Their gathered threads were beautiful; and too many. She had taken too many and her sisters were both thrilled at the beautiful little threads and furious that she had broken their agreement to take only one each.

"It's not FAIR!" Clotho snapped out; Glaring at her fiercely. She paced around the park bench they were settled around. Oblivious mortals bundled against the chilly weather were passing them without seeing anything of note. She whirled around to point at Atropos in emphasis. "Sister, it's not Fair! She took two! It's not fair!"

Atropos nodded as she finished her thread inspection. "We did agree on only taking one each." She said calmly before looking up at Lachesis. "Why did you take two?"

"I didn't have a chance to separate them!" Lachesis defended herself. "They were curled together so tightly! I-I couldn't unweave them before the camp god awoke."

Clotho's expression didn't lighten in the least. Her face remained scrunched in a pinched scowl.

"I found two threads as well. Both tightly coiled together." Atropos said sternly. Her mind returning to the memory of two teens, the defenders. The ones who had pushed themselves closest to the drafty window to shield the littler ones within the crowded cabin. The brothers so bonded they pushed their beds together, forming a sort of nest that they huddled together inside for warmth. "Yet, I only took one of them." Obvious regret filled her tone. She truly wished to take both brother threads, but she had to abide by her own restrictions. "You should have had more restraint, Sister."

Lachesis bowed her head morosely… "I'm sorry sisters. I-"

Clotho interrupted before she could complete her apology. "There must be some kind of penalty." She demanded, "I say that she should not be able to choose any more threads!"

Lachesis' bowed head shot up angrily, "What!? No! That's too harsh!"

Atropos played mediator between her two fuming sisters. "Peace, please sisters." She turned to Clotho, "Calm yourself."

But Clotho would not be calmed, "Then I demand that you and I should be able to take more threads before the Solstice deadline." She demanded in a firm voice. Her shoe stomping up a fine powder of dusty snow around them.

"That's in 10 days!" Lachesis cried out

"So?"

"The others will notice our presence if we take too many too quickly!"

Atropos nodded in agreement with Lachesis. "You are too hasty, sister."

Clotho huffed, settling slightly, "There should still be some punishment. It's not fair."

"I agree what has occurred is not fair, but let's not abandon sense in pursuit of restitution." The sensible sister sighed with exasperation. Around them snow floated in the air. Whirling in picturesque patterns. The three women in slippers and house coats unbothered by the cold.

"Then what punishment would you suggest?" Clotho slumped in aggravation against the bench next to her. Her leg bouncing in aggravation.

Atropos hummed in thought for a while. "Perhaps instead, merely a penalty of another sort. You and I would be permitted to choose the next selection of threads while she-" and here she gestured toward the shamefaced Lachesis, "Travel back and deliver the current bounty of threads to their rightful parents."

Lachesis gaped, "Travel back? By myself!?"

Clotho looked smug as she considered the idea. "Yes. That is a fine idea. Go home and secure our new threads to their new home. Sister and I shall choose our next threads from the bundles available."

The shortest of the sisters blanched unhappily, "But what if I miss the solstice? I'll have to wait half a year before returning!"

Clotho waved her hand casually, now resting fully against the park bench next to their sister. "Then just hurry back." She said dismissively, "Surely you can manage that much?"

Atropos nudged Clotho's shoulder scowlingly before turning to Lachesis, passing over the filled bag of threads. "The solstice celebration lasts but a few hours on each side, just quickly leave the threads within the path of their parents and return to us. Then we shall work on gathering our next threads before the equinox."

Clotho huffed, "But the longer we take here the more the chance they will notice our presence and seek to hoard the threads for themselves."

Atropos and Lachesis nodded, each of them knew it was a matter of when not if for their counterparts to discover them and enforce their stronger influence on this universe to expel them and bar them from ever returning. Atropos nodded again, "We will take what we can until the next equinox and then be gone for some centuries after. Hopefully, that will lower their guards enough for any potential return we attempt."

The three nodded, some notably more sour than the others. "Selfish…" Clotho hissed, they have hundreds…thousands… and we have so few…Selfish.."

"Shhhh. You cannot possibly say that we would not be the same in the face of intruders. No matter how many threads we have."

"Perhaps we should have asked for the Thief to assist with our thread gathering?" Lachesis spoke up, her withered hands gripping the bag nervously. "We don't seem to be doing so well. We'll be caught sooner or later."

Clotho scoffed, "We already had this discussion. If we brought Him, he'd snatch up all his own miracles and care not for any of the others."

"She is right," Atropos agreed. "So far we have collected miracles from The Harvest, The Gracious King, The Bright One, and two each from both The Vine and the Thief."

Clotho nodded, "We should gather bright threads from War, Wisdom, and the Forge each next."

Atropos nodded, "And also from the other Kings. The Sea and the Sky. Least they grow jealous of their elder brother's fortune."

Clotho waved her hand, "The Thunder bringer already has children enough."

"I doubt that he would agree." Atropos smiled in a fond manner. She tilted her head thoughtfully, "The small temple I was in, it was filled with threads from unknown gods. Smaller gods whose fates we could not grasp quickly enough to weave. Shall we take them to?"

"They would have no anchor in our tapestry. Let the small gods keep their miracles. Perhaps seeing the others lose theirs will inspire them to cherish their children better." Clotho said decisively.

"What of Love?" Lachesis asked again, "She has children here too. Shall we take them?"

"She has the most children compared to the others at home. Passion, Harmony, Yearning, Desire, and even her little Island child who is kept safe with the Sun. The crooked one's curse is lightest on her. So I think she has her nest well filled; while others are woefully without. When we return in years to come perhaps; But to start, let us gather other threads." Atropos shook her head, "Sister, I know you favor her, but have pity on the others.

Lachesis flushed as her favoritism was called out. "She is a wonderful catalyst for the most interesting patterns." She justified quietly.

"Still though, she has plenty for now. We should keep our attention for the others instead."

"Unless we find a particularly interesting one of hers in easy reach." Clotho laughed. "I'm sure we can trust you to take more than is agreed on again."

Lachesis flush, "You-!" Before she could start in on her sister, Atropos spoke up again to sooth over ruffled feathers.

"Peace, you two should not fight. We are so close to such happy days. Let's not spoil it with sisterly spats."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"The Solstice is in 10 days. On that morning, you will return home and leave our currently collected threads with their rightful parents. Then return so that we can continue collecting what we can before the next equinox." Atropos nodded sagely.

"For now we should focus on what we can observe from the camp. Perhaps keep our eyes on the surroundings for any wayward threads?" Clotho half-way teased.

Atropos sighed in good natured fondness, "Always so greedy…" she lightly complained.

Lachesis relaxed against the bench with her sisters, "Of course she is. 'Tis the Season for presents and all that."

Off in the distance of the park, walking just within earshot, a wandering group of carolers had their song echoing through the snow covered park.

"…Children go where I send thee..

How shall I send thee?

I'm gonna send you six by six

Six for the six that couldn't get fixed…"

Chapter Text

PERCY JACKSON- CAMP HALF-BLOOD

Annabeth, Percy, and Jason split up after they left Chiron in front of Cabin 12. Jason darting to the side to check on cabin 13. Nico was probably not there, but Jason shouted back over his shoulder, "Just in Case!" as he veered down the path. Powdery snow kicking up after his steps. Undulating vines wriggling along the once hard packed dirt trail.

Annabeth hesitated before Percy nudged her in the direction toward her cabin. "Check that Malcolm and your siblings got out and get them and the nearby cabins to the Big House. Shout if you need any help. I'll help Travis and Conner get Cabin 11 out."

"Same to you Seaweed Brain, See you at the Big House."

Percy watched Annabeth disappear down the path for as long as possible before jogging over to cabin 11. Jumping and hopping over more vines spilling up over the snow. The screams and shrieking from inside the cabin making him work quickly.

Percy freed the Hermes' kids from the cabin by hacking away at the vines encircling their cabin with Riptide and yanking and pulling the thick, rough greenery with his hands. Leaving them raw and slightly bloody. At some point he was gripping the vines, bracing his feet against the cabin wall, and using his whole body weight to try to loosen the plant's grip on the window. The cabin 11 kids had opened the window and were cheering him on, pushing from the inside against the vine to further weaken it.

Eventually, the vine snapped, throwing Percy backwards into the snow and everyone scrambled to escape the cabin.

And after more than a dozen kids had wriggled, slipped and tumbled out of the freed windows and partially wedged open door, Percy saw that Conner was missing and Travis was Not dealing with his brother missing well.

Travis was standing off to the side. Having to be pulled out of the cabin by his siblings. One of the new campers; Jerry- a seven year old who had already been claimed by Hermes- was clinging to his side. Travis didn't seem to hear the boy nervously chattering up at him. He was slightly swaying as Jerry held his hand and hung off him. It seemed like he was still half asleep standing up. His face was shiny and wet and his eyes were red and swollen.

The conch shell horn sounded. The call echoing through camp. Percy helped to herd the campers toward the big house. An uneasy feeling settling into his gut. He didn't cap Riptide. Keeping his sword out and ready as he unwillingly lead the group toward the Big House and Mr. D.

Standing at the center of the Hermes group was Chris, who was visibly struggling not to burst into tears as the younger campers babbled questions around him in higher and higher pitches as the tension grew. The group was filled with Hermes kids and the 'baby campers' (as Clarisse called them). The 17 campers claimed by minor gods that were still in cabin 11 only because their parents cabins haven't been built yet. Most of them were younger than 13 and would have been unclaimed still if not for the promise the gods had made.

The whole of camp was free of their vine covered cabins and standing in front of the big house. Most of the kids were still in their pjs, though they layered sweaters, jackets, and blankets over themselves to keep warm in the ankle deep snow. Bare feet were shoved into snow boots and random mix matched hats and gloves were shoved on as campers rushed out of their overgrown cabins to assemble.

According to a nervous looking Chris who whispered to Percy as they herded the others towards the Big house; Travis had apparently not spoken a single word since getting up. Only staring blankly or silently crying on his bed as his cabin mates panicked around him.

After hearing that, Percy stayed nearby on the fringes of the group to help support Chris as he struggled to step up and keep the group together as they gathered at the Big House. Keeping his eye out for anything suspicious.

By the time cabin 11 arrived to the yard in front of the Big House, it was clear that the other cabins were also struggling. Counselors were being forced to count and recount their cabin mates as the agitated Mr. D was on the porch and pacing back and forth furiously, demanding recounts over and over. Chiron was keeping his distance by additionally counting heads.

Percy pushed himself the the front of the assembly of demigods. Making himself a physical barrier between the campers and the visibly unstable Mr. D and increasingly nervous looking Chiron.

Cabin 7 was panicking. "Will's not here!" Victoria was stressed as she counted and recounted her siblings. "We thought that he slept in the infirmary last night, but no-one is there!"

Jason was panting from having run over from to the infirmary to check as the campers gathered. "I searched the infirmary. It looked like Nico stopped by -I found his backpack- but he and Will weren't there."

Chris hesitantly spoke up from the Hermes cabin, Clarisse breaking off from her siblings to stand next to him supportively. "Conner is gone too. He and Travis had their beds next to the window last night. But he wasn't there when we woke up. Something…Something must have happened because Travis is…"

Many eyes darted to the tallest of Hermes children. Travis was notably not reacting. To anything. Still holding Jerry's hand with a blank expression as the elementary schooler worriedly looked up at him.

"He…he hasn't said anything. I…" whatever Chris was going say died as his courage flagged under the many eyes of camp.

"We're missing Conner, Will, Nico, and Pollux. Everyone else is accounted for." Chiron finally put his hoof down after the 4th recount.

"So what happened? Did Hera decide on switching campers again?" Someone asked from the crowd. Murmurs fluttered through the campers. Multiple pairs of eyes darted over to Percy and Jason pointedly.

Jason raised his hands in objection, "Lady Juno has sworn not to do such again without due notice to the campers and their parents at least."

Percy huffed sarcastically. Irritation flooding his gut. "Not that I'd believe her on that, but why would she? If they wanted us to hop over to New Rome she'd could've just asked and not bothered with kidnapping people."

On the porch, Mr. D froze for a long moment, his form flickering between the weird frat boy look he was rocking and an older (but much thinner and better looking than before) bearded look in a toga before wincing and massaging his forehead. The quick switching between Dionysus and Bacchus was nauseating to look at. But after a few minutes, he shook his head. "They aren't in New Rome." He barked unhappily.

"And she'd never dare to remove a claim..." Mr. D muttered lowly. (Percy was pretty sure that nobody was suppose to hear that but he was standing close enough to the steps that he could).

The gathered campers shivered as Mr. D continued to pace in front of them. Light snow began to fall in the crisp morning air. One of the Athena kids-Malcolm- sneezed against the cold. The abrupt sound seemed to jar him out of his thoughts. "I'm going to Olympus. Camp is on Lock Down. Everyone get inside and-" he twisted to stare directly at Chiron. "Do NOT let them out of your sight." He ordered sternly.

Looking vaguely nervous at the teetering sanity of the god in front of them, the campers all moved to shuffle inside. Chiron helpfully moving furniture to make more room for everyone. Mr. D stayed just long enough to ensure the last camper -Percy, scowling as he kept himself between the unsteady god and the other campers- went inside and the screen door slammed shut behind him.

Mr. D vanished from camp with a flash as new green shoots pushed up from the snow around the edges of the Big House Porch. Tiny vines beginning to curl around the wooden supports.

DIONYSUS: OLYMPUS

Dionysus charged down the path toward the Olympian council room. He knew he looked wild. His patterned t-shirt was more akin to a pelt then the original cotton blend he had before. His spine elongated to have a narrow, twitchy tail that lashed back and forth with each step.

Olympus was innocuously calm. The rebuilt temples and fresh buildings giving off that fresh mortar and wet paint smell that slightly clashed with the lingering smell of ambrosia and fresh flowers that had forever clung to the sacred mountain.

Nymphs and satyrs trailed up and down the paths with quick steps. In their well practiced preparations for the upcoming Solstice party.

Many minor gods who strolled leisurely along those same paths quickly stepped to the side out of his way. Throwing themselves out of his way as they took in his disrupted state. The ones he remembered were apart of the most recent rebellion attempt moved just a bit faster and just a hair further away from his stomps down the trail. Official forgiveness granted (By Peter's insipid reward demand) or not, it would be centuries before any Olympian look at the traitors with an unwary eye again.

He was so frantic and angry he barely noticed and took no joy in their trepidation as he usually would.

Thunder rumbled unhappily over the air in waves. Zeus was obviously unhappy (as he always was) that someone other than him called a general council meeting.

No doubt his queen would be equally as unhappy with having to pause in her Solstice party preparations.

The council door slammed open in front of him. Zeus and Hera were already there and reclining on their thrones. Athena, Hephaestus, Ares, Aphrodite, Demeter, and Hestia were there and seated too. Poseidon and Hades were standing off to the side away from the others.

Multiple eyes turned to his arrival. Dionysus knew his grip on Madness was too loose in his agitation. For it affected the other gods vividly.

Zeus shut his eyes against his sons domain as it washed over all of them. Oxen horns poking from his hair before retreating back to normal as he regained his composure. The smell of ozone filled the air.

Hera was less quick in stopping her reactions to him. A peacock like shriek escaped her before she could stifle it. Her cloak of feathers looking more like wings for a moment before shifting back to it's usual state of finery. The queen shifted her face away as she fought to maintain her dignity.

Athena twisted her head nearly fully around to duck his gaze, her teeth clicking together sounding like the clack of a beak in her agitation. Her normally smooth and tightly braided hair fraying and frizzing into unkempt feathers. Her fingers twitching as though she was sitting back at her loom.

Demeter gripped the edges of her throne, frost spreading over the living wooden structure. The smell of rotting crops wafted off of her in waves.

Ares began shaking as the ravages of his own domains rattled loose around him. His hands which like Demeter were gripping the arms of her thrones were dripping blood. His tusks grew out quickly and pushed his lips out awkwardly. The quickness and sharpness cutting his lips and tongue. Golden ichor leaking from his lips.

Poseidon and Hades (a recent re-addition to the Olympian Council, he was welcomed by all save Demeter) were loitering near the door away from the thrones chatting. Both looked up and minutely winced when they looked at him. Mixed scents of heavy salt water and grave soil filled the room for a moment before they regained control of themselves.

Hephaestus took one glance at him and quickly trained his eyes back to focus on the gadget in his palm. Smoke floated from his suddenly flaming hair. A mules tail fell out from under his blacksmith's apron. His jaw shivered as he struggled to shift his teeth back to something more human-like.

Aphrodite had stopped her usual shifting features unexpectedly. Her face became as blank and featureless as a mannequin save for the kaleidoscope of colors swirling from her body. Pearls dripped from her sea foam hair and make clink clink clink sounds as they hit the marble. She ducked her face behind the smoking form of her husband as she leaned over her throne until she was practically in his lap. Waves of embarrassment of her lapse in control visible in every line of tension on her.

Dionysus noticed that Hestia was looking a little ashen as she stirred at the coals in the hearth with her bare hands. Her eyes trained on the flames to avoid looking up at him again. Her whole body trembled like a candle in the breeze.

Normally he would feel a twinge of guilt in hurting the kindest of his family but not today.

Not with his only remaining son gone. Castor was lost at the Labyrinth battle. Dakota (he didn't Care that Bacchus complained about Dionysus claiming his Roman son posthumously. He can Fuck Off right now.) died during the Battle for San Francisco Bay.

Pollux was the last one.

His only remaining child left. And he was Gone. And Dionysus Needed to know why and how and WHO was responsible.

Dionysus stood in the center of the room as he waited the few seconds for Hermes, Apollo, and Artemis to arrive and take their seats. Each of them faltering in the uneasy tension caused by his uncontrolled domain.

Hermes arms' broke out into bright copper scales in the same manner a mortal would get goosebumps. Feathered appendages sprouted from the sides of his head in a display of shock. He stumbled to his throne blindly as he shrouded his eyes with the wings around his face to avoid looking at Dionysus.

Apollo shuddered at the glance he had of Dionysus before slamming his eyes shut. His body becoming a glow stick of golden light before he could repress it. Swan and crow feathers shivered through his golden hair in shifting colors of black, white, and gold.

Artemis took a steadying breath. Her skin shifting to a dappling of fawn fur as she forced herself to move from the prey frozen position she adopted. A silvery glow erupting from her before dampening quickly. Her eyes were unwavering as she took her seat. Unlike the other's shying gaze she kept staring at him like he was a rabid animal waiting to pounce.

She wasn't entirely incorrect.

Dionysus was visible unstable. His physical form rippling into various features in rapid succession. Giving him an almost mirage like appearance.

After all the council were seated and most had reclaimed control over themselves and their features, Zeus tried to open his mouth to demand an explanation for Dionysus' calling of the meeting.

Before he could, Dionysus cut across him to speak.

"Who took my son?" The question was flat and accusatory. His violent violet gaze pinning each Olympian to their thrones. "My son and a few others were stolen from camp; from their cabins. From my protection last night. Where Is My Son?"

Uneasy glances were exchanged throughout the room. Wondering who was responsible. More than one gaze flicked to the stone faced queen.

"Someone took Pollux? From your cabin?" Hermes repeated disbelievingly. A gods cabin was like their temple. It was impossible for another god to enter without them being noticed.

"Wait, you said him and others," Athena said quickly, "Who else is missing?"

Poseidon shifted in his seat, expression mostly worried but with the tell-tale exasperation that made it obvious he expected that his son was among the missing.

"One of the Hermes boys, Calvin or something. Walter from Apollo's cabin. And Ned from Uncles."

Hums and mildly surprised noises passed through the room. Poseidon visibly relaxed as Percy's name wasn't mentioned.

Apollo's eyebrow twitched at the misnaming. "Meaning my Will, Nico, and…Conner?" The last name was said hesitatingly. Unsure of the boy's name, Apollo looked over to Hermes for confirmation.

Hades was stiff in his throne. Worry choreographed in every line. "Nico? Nico was at camp?"

"Conner?" Hermes spoke over their quiet Uncle as he shifted worriedly in his seat. "My Conner? Was Travis still there?"

"Yes. But whatever took his brother frightened him to into catatonia. If he saw anything he hasn't spoken of it yet."

Ares scoffed from his seat, his teeth still slightly too big. Giving him a very slight lisp. "Maybe they all left on a quest without telling you. Has anyone given them one? Fess up so we can leave."

Nobody admitted to giving out a quest. Head shaking and shrugging shoulders passed through the room.

Dionysus snarled, "They didn't just LEAVE. They were Taken by something. More than that it didn't just take the campers. It did this."

With all the flair of a practiced showman and all the contained fury of a father, Dionysus produced Pollux's toy horse. "Touch it." He demanded, voice curling on the edge of unhinged. "Touch it and tell me that my son just left."

Hermes, curious, slipped from his throne to reach over an brush his hand over the toy mane. Barely brushing the worn velvet before recoiling violently away, flinging himself back onto his throne. "WHA- What was that?"

Hermes knew that toy. He delivered the pieces for Dio to Make that toy and it's pair. The horse was meant to be filled with Dionysus' claim. Each seam and stitch bursting with echoes with his divinity. But not anymore. Now the toys were faded and deprived of any trace of their owner or the godly claim that was once obvious to every sense.

It was disturbing beyond words that they were so blank.

"Your Claim?! How is it-" the words died in Hermes' throat. Inconceivable to think of.

"Gone?" Dionysus hissed, his teeth more fangs than not. "That's what I want to know! Who took my son? Who wiped my claim away?! Who the Fuck am I going to rip apart for this SHIT!?" His voice rose sharply into a wild roar by the end.

From her seat, Demeter suddenly scoffed. "Isn't it obvious?" She didn't flinch as every eye switched to stare at her. She remained seated firmly on her throne. The seat, made of living branches sprouted curved and wicked looking thorns throughout it. Tendrils of frost circled down the branches in waving spirals.

"Obvious?" Dionysus hissed quietly. "You know who did this?"

"You should too. Who among us has the habit of stealing children?" Fauna green eyes flicked across the room to the dour looking king.

Hades scowled as the rest of his family turned to him. "I did not steal your children. My own son is among the missing if you bother to remember." His voice was flat and emotionless.

"Perhaps that was the point?" Demeter said snidely. "That little bastard of yours can slip into any shadow. I wouldn't doubt that he's been following his father's path in stealing others. One of the missing is his lover after all. Perhaps he seeks to kidnap and entrap him rather than a proper courting?"

Apollo straightened in his seat. His feathered hair which had reduced significantly, flared out again. "What?! My son's been bride napped?" He turned furious eyes over to Hades. "Where are they hiding Uncle? Did Nico take him to the Underworld!?"

Hades sighed. "No. Nico wouldn't do that." He rolled his eyes, "Honestly, it's hard enough getting him to visit my realm in the Summer, let alone during the Winter."

It went unsaid exactly why that was. Though everyone knew that Nico wasn't entirely fond of his stepmother for various reasons.

Apollo pointed a hand at his uncle, "Will is still recovering from that damn pit from last time! He can't go back to the underworld! He needs sunshine! Have your brat bring him back!"

The Cthonic King waved his hand dismissively, "And again I tell you. My Son did not take him. Nor would he bother to take the others. More than anything it was probably one your brats dragging him around."

Demeter scoffed before reaching to the side and pulling out a painted flowerpot devoid of any flower. "Then explain this." She demanded sharply. Waving the empty pot around. "My own claim has been ripped away. My poor Katie has been missing for months!"

Dionysus blinked in confusion, "Kimmy didn't go missing. She was killed by monsters. Chiron was told by her father."

"NO! If she died the flower would have withered!" Demeter shrieked, "It didn't wither! It was ripped from it's roots! By Him!" She clutched the pot to her chest with one hand, the other pointing accusingly. "My poor daughter. One wasn't enough for you?!" She sobbed dramatically "You have to have two of my sweet flowers in your rotted home. Getting that shady son of yours to steal others!" Her voice rose sharply in pitch as her accusations rose, "The blonde boy!" She darted her eyes to Apollo, "I bet he intends to use him as a little sun for the underworld to keep my poor flower from wilting." Her eyes shifted to Dionysus, "I bet that's also why he took yours, to keep them pliant and drugged." She glanced over at Hermes, "Yours' probably heard of his secret plan and had to be taken to silence him."

Suspicion filled the air as they each considered Demeter's accusation. Hades sighed in exasperation. "That may be the singularly stupidiest accusation you have ever leveled at me."

"Then where is my daughter!?"

"If she died as Dioynsus said, then she would be in Elysium where all heroes go."

"Prove it!" Demeter demanded while caressing the empty flower pot in her hands.

Hades was much to mature to roll his eyes at his sisters dramatics. But it was a close thing.

Athena scoffed, her hair still appearing slightly feathery but much more contained as she focused on braiding it back into submission. "Why not simply confirm that she is in Elysium? The others are probably dead too. If they are, they will also be in Elysium. If not then we can at least be assured that they are not dead quite yet."

Apollo hissed at her angrily, "My Son is Not Dead!" He then twisted in his throne and pointed a clawed finger out at Hades, "My son better Not be dead!!"

Hades silently waved his hand, summoning Alecto to Olympus. The fury seemed moderately cowed at the sight of so many agitated gods gathered. "My King?"

"Go to Elysium. Conduct a census. We are looking for demigod heroes, Katie the daughter of Demeter, Pollux son of Dionysus, Conner son of Hermes, Will son of Apollo, and my own Son Nico." Hades ordered.

Alecto's expression went slack at the last name, all color falling from her face. "Nico? He…" her face twisted into something complicated. "Understood. I'll conduct a full census of Elysium, the Fields, and all the crossings of the River Lethe to be sure. It'll only be a moment My King!" With a flash of shadow and sulfuric smoke, the fury vanished back to the Underworld.

Hades settled back into his throne. "This will be cleared up shortly."

Demeter huffed sarcastically.

Dionysus turned back to the empty toy in his hand. "Even so…Hades' brat couldn't have wiped away my claim. Or yours." His eyes darted to the empty pot in his aunt's grip. "I was completely unconscious. Something utterly slipped passed both Chiron and myself. As well as all the harpies, dryads, and satyrs in camp! Either Ned had help taking the other campers or something more powerful than a mere demigod brat took them!"

ANNABETH CHASE: CAMP HALF-BLOOD

Camp was never what Annabeth would consider 'comfortable' during the winter months. The lava wall was shut down, no capture the flag games, most activities were spent indoors to conserve heat. Many year-round campers spent whole days inside their cabins working on school worksheets that the counselors got from Chiron, only coming outside to eat or use the communal shower and restrooms. The majority of demigods were none to pleased at the turning of the seasons.

But Annabeth used to enjoy winter once upon a time. The camp got calmer and quieter as the summer campers went to stay with their mortal parents. Cabin six usually used winter to work on their weaving skills on blankets, cloaks, pillow cases, scarves etc. Annabeth was no where near as capable on the loom as some of her brothers and sisters; Malcolm especially had a talent for embroidery that was wholly unmatched. He could lose himself for days in something called 'thread-painting' and would only stop when Annabeth and the others would drag him off his bunk and into the shower when he started to stink.

But despite her preference for architecture designing and studying Greek stories/myths/plays/etc, she was still a daughter of Athena and as such she was no novice in weaving and handicrafts. The whole of cabin six would spent every winter making countless winter necessities that they would trade to the other cabins. Typically for the best time slots for the showers or smuggled contraband from Cabin 11 or extras from the camp store.

Annabeth remembered working for three months straight on a scarf and hat set for Luke when she was ten. She was so proud of her work that she didn't even notice his grimace at the yellow cacadus symbol she had included in the bright red fabric. He wore it for a few weeks during the coldest part of the year before telling her that he lost it. She remembered being so sure that one of the Stolls had taken it and spending weeks harassing them trying to 'prove it'.

In hindsight, it was obvious that Luke had gotten rid of it quietly to avoid hurting her feelings. Likely burning or burying it so he would have to wear his fathers symbol around his neck.

This Winter was nothing like the others. The mood of camp was somber with the news of Veteran Katie Gardner being killed by monsters just a day after leaving camp. Even Percy's surprised arrival to camp did little to uplift the depressed mood camp had fallen into. The first loss of a major player in the last war to random monsters.

Today was awful. Annabeth woke up to Malcolm screaming for everyone to grab a weapon. The early morning daylight was obscured by creeping vines writhing up and over the window panes of the cabin. The wooden shell of the cabin creaking from all angles as the weighty vines continued to encapsulate them.

It wasn't until Percy (looking out of breath and sweaty from escaping cabin 3) came to the window and used Riptide to help saw away at the vines enough for Annabeth to slip through. With a nod with Malcolm, Annabeth and Percy left to investigate the cause of the vine explosion within camp.

They found Jason nearby, met with Chiron and the feral looking Mr. D, and before lunchtime the entire camp was crowded inside the Big House.

All 53 year round Demigods were crammed inside the building. The Big House didn't feel so big when the whole camp had to share Mr. D's private bathroom (Chiron refused to allow anyone to step foot off the porch toward the communal bathhouse.), the kitchenette, rec room, and other spaces.

The infirmary building (literally 4 feet from the back door of the Big House) was deemed 'too far', the Attic was too cramped/dusty/creepy for anyone to linger there long term, and Chiron had locked his private study and Mr. D's room (though no one was willing to risk angering the already teetering temper of their director).

So the entirety of camp was confined to 2 of the 5 floors of the Big House.

The basement was filled with the accumulated blankets, coats, etc that were brought by the campers once they escaped their overgrown cabins. There was a storage cabinet in the corner of the basement stacked with little mats which were only a little thicker and a little more comfortable than yoga mats that the older kids laid out on the ground to keep the rest of the kids from sleeping directly on the floor of the basement.

Chiron pulled out an old trunk from somewhere filled with wool and flannel blankets that smelled like dust and mothballs.

Ryan, one of Hypnos' sons, had a little 'goodie bag' from his dad. A dark blue little drawstring with a sticker label of a red poppy flower. He showed it Annabeth and the other head counselors offering to 'enforce naptime' for the youngest campers without Chiron knowing.

Chris looked relieved at the offering. Jerry and a few of the other elementary campers were getting more and more stir-crazy as the day wore on and Travis was still acting weird. Annabeth vetoed the idea, reminding them that they didn't know what took Nico, Will, Pollux, and Conner and who knows if it was coming back. Better that they all kept their wits about them.

It was also this logic that encouraged the demigods to nudge the littler campers into the center of the sleep huddle in the fortified basement.

Jake from cabin 9 worked on setting traps against the narrow/high windows of the basement to ensure nothing could get in without getting speared, burned, or ripped to shreds first. His sister Nyssa pulled a few gadgets and gears out and was entertaining the younger kids with a little whirring helicopter-like toy.

Percy, Clarisse, and a few of the other cabin leaders were upstairs with Chiron trying to get more information and attempting to bully the centaur into allowing them to go back to their cabins to get fresh clothes, more blankets (that don't smell like mothballs), and other supplies. Annabeth could hear Drew's voice getting shriller and shriller as she went on about skin care routines and hair products.

Even just one day into the 'quarantine' that the other campers called it and most of them were getting stir crazy.

Annabeth hoped it wouldn't last too long.

HERMES-OLYMPUS

This meeting was a disaster. Then again, Hermes could more or less say that about every meeting that they've had in the last 800 years or so.

There was screaming, shouting, accusing, blaming, and pointed fingers in every corner.

Demeter blamed Hades (as expected of her). Which caused Hera to accuse Zeus of kidnapping the female demigod (again expected of her but with the extra fun bit of her completely ignoring that all the other demigods missing were boys).

That led to Poseidon threatening the rest of them that if they tried to involve his son Percy, he would make them Regret it. Which to be fair, at least half the council was quietly considering just throwing the problem at him to deal with before Poseidon put his trident down.

Apollo was melodically wailing about his missing 'sunshine' to which Aphrodite was 'helpfully' chattering about tragic love stories and drama and smiling wickedly when her needling caused Apollo to burst into tears.

Artemis added to the chaos by shouting at Aphrodite whilst patting her dramatic brother's shoulders. Which made Ares rush to Aphrodites' defense. Which caused Hephaestus to jump in with his worn out accusations about infidelity. Which only reignited Hera's squawking and Zeus' rumblings.

Dionysus at this point, was curled in Hestia's lap openly sobbing as he clutched the distressingly claimless toys to his chest.

And Hermes was trapped in the meeting room. Wings fluttering anxiously around his ankles and temples now. Uncomfortably aware of thousands of piling up messages, deals falling to the wayside, deadlines creeping closer and closer and closer. The ever present ringing of multiple domains swirling and whirling in his mind and He was just tightly tightly clinging to the fact that it was one of his sons taken. That he needed to focus to help bring Conner back home. But the never ending call of his domains, his exhaustingly unhelpful family, and the ever mounting fear that the demigods were already dead was starting to get to him.

In a puff of sulphuric smoke, Alecto reappeared before them. "My King!" Her appearance was much more frazzled than before. Her hair was tangled and mussed like she had been dragging her fingers and claws through it. Her eyes wide and bloodshot. In the few hours she had been gone, something had happened. Something obviously distressing.

Hades leaned forward, alert and alarmed at her distress. "Alecto, calm yourself. What is going on? Did you find Nico?"

"No! No." Alecto shrieked out before taking a deep steadying breath. "We searched the entirety of the underworld, even around the edges of the pit. We couldn't find any trace of Nico or any of the other demigods.

I personally went to Elysium to conduct a census and not only was the daughter of Demeter and the others NOT in Elysium as expected, there were Souls Missing from inside!"

Gasps rang through the room. Hermes felt an unsettling chill run through him. As a psycho-pomp and sort of cthonic god himself, the idea of souls missing from Elysium felt Wrong. As wrong as putting putting chocolate sauce on spaghetti or wearing a swimsuit to the movies. Like eating pudding and feeling a crunch. It was a sudden and unsettling disturbance. A wrongness that swept down to his core. A shudder ran through his back and an icy bite began to gnaw at his neck.

"What do you mean missing?" Hermes blurted out "Did they cross the River Lethe?"

Alecto spun to face him, her face waxy and bloodless in her anxiousness. "No! We checked! Before, there was a soul who was sitting on the banks for months upon months but he's gone now! He didn't cross and he isn't inside of Elysium. There are two known souls who should be Elysium and are just gone! More than just the missing demigods from camp!"

Hades had his hands clenched on the armrests of his throne. "Which souls?" He asked sharply. "Who is missing from Elysium?"

Alecto turned back to her king, her wings cloaking around her in a manner that spoke of her desperate desire for comfort in that moment. "Two recent additions. A son of Dionysus-," A wail began to rise from near Hestia's hearth before she finished the name, "Castor."

"And?" Hades asked over Dioynsus' renewed wailing. Hermes felt the dread creep and settle over his shoulders before Alecto even finished turning her eyes back to him to utter.

"The Son of Hermes. The lightning thief; Luke."

Zeus's thunderous reaction at the reminder of Luke did nothing to muffle the harmonizing wailing of his two godly sons.

Hermes dropped his face into his hands as he cried. Feeling himself sliding out of his throne to huddle on the floor of the council room. His wings flailing out and covering him as much as possible as grief shook him. He felt a hand, radiating heat from it telling him it was Apollo, settle over his shoulder and rubbing against his trembling frame soothingly. "Hermes, calm down. You need to calm down."

"I need-" Hermes choked on something. Emotion, saliva, bile, he wasn't sure before continuing. "I need my Sons back." It was too much. It was Too Much.

He needed Conner. Mischievous, clever, kindhearted Conner. His little boy who was always attached to his brother's hip. His sweet Conner who could sweet talk Chiron into extra activity time, who slipped sweets and contraband goods to negotiate benefits for himself and his siblings, who could talk so smoothly even Dionysus was caught unawares more than once. He needed him back. Needed to hear his cackling laugh in harmony with his brother again.

He needed Luke. Luke. Wrathful Luke. Justifiably angry Luke. Sweet Luke. So determined to make the world better for the other demigods. Angry, foolish, wonderful Luke. Even if he would be back in Elysium. Or swimming across the Lethe away from all of them. Or even if he would be standing in front of him screaming and yelling and calling him names. He needed to know he was okay.

His boys were gone. They were lost. How could he be calm if they were gone?!

Dionysus managed to pull himself up onto his knees. Hermes looked up at the heaving sobs his brother was making. His hands were still clutching the toy horses. Hestia hesitantly kneeling next to him with her hands up to brace him if he fell over again. "I- I swear…" his voice was thick with emotion, "I swear on my Fading. I will NEVER forgive any of you if my sons….I will make the ones who took my sons Pay. I don't care if it takes every once of my power that I have left!" His scream echoed through the room. His eyes flashing a vicious purple before he collapsed back onto the floor, clinging to his son's toys. Exhausted mewling escaping him.

The announcement of his imminent fading cause another round of chaos through the room. Zeus enacted an immediate lock down of Olympus. Trying to contain the panic and undirected fury. None of his brothers, sister, or children's complaints, arguments, or tears over the incoming days would sway him.

NINE DAYS LATER

JASON- CAMP HALF-BLOOD

Camp was not doing well right now. Jason had come only arrived to camp a few days ago. He wasn't expecting to immediately be overwhelmed with another Greek catastrophe (At least he had both his shoes this time.)

He had arrived originally to help Annabeth with plans for organizing camp into something more settled and permanent than just a summer camp. Providing a organized 'Roman' perspective to her grand plans. They had plans to expand the camp boundaries outwards (without encroaching on the satyrs and dryads) and to create larger cabins and additional buildings in the next few years. He was also invited to attend a traditional 'Greek Solstice party' (he was a little nervous to learn what that entailed but Leo promised him that the Stolls were joking when they said they ran naked marathons and wrestled in the snow to 'prove themselves' before the gods.)

Apparently, Lady Ju- Lady Hera had extended the party invitation to him as a special favor as her champion. (He was technically Lady Juno's champion but even now no one was entirely sure how deep the schism between the Greek and Roman gods were so he could very well be Lady Hera's champion too.)

But now that was not going to happen. Olympus was on Lock Down. Jason winced as he remembered

Camp was Closed down. The harpies that had patrolled before had disappeared from camp (Chiron said that they had fled after the 'disturbance' from that night frightened them), the dryads and nymphs had also either gone into hiding or hibernation, the satyrs were also scattered as Chiron sent them to find all non-camp bound demigods and bring them to camp as quickly as possible.

And all the demigods were confined to a single building. Granted, it was the largest building of the camp but there were still 40 children and teens of various ages all sleeping in the same room and using the same bathroom and shower for the last 9 days.

It was uncomfortable to say the least.

He and Leo were unofficially in charge of caring for the remaining Stoll brother Travis. His brother Chris had taken over his counselor duties and the others in the cabin were too small or too irresponsible to be trusted. Annabeth had asked them to watch out for him as she and Percy worked on pressuring Chiron to get updates from Olympus.

It wasn't a difficult job. Travis was essentially catatonic. He hadn't really spoken since that first morning. It seemed that whatever took his brother Conner, also stole his voice and personality. His teal/blue eyes were constantly unfocused and glassy. His face slack and constantly wet with the random bouts of silent tears that he would fall into.

Leo and Jason weren't on suicide watch per-say, but Annabeth made it very clear that they were not to leave him alone for any reason. Just in case.

It had been days and they had tried everything to pull some kind of reaction out of Travis. He would only eat and drink if someone forced a plate or cup of something into his hands. Jason was positive that he hadn't tasted anything in the last 9 days.

When would this end?

Travis spend his days wandering from room to room with Leo and Jason quietly on his heels. Occasionally he'd pause and look over at the small groups of demigods scattered around the building but he'd never join the multiple board games, tv watching, craft making the other kids were occupying themselves with.

It would almost always end with Travis practically floating to the outside front porch and sit on the steps; Barely inside the strict 'boundary' that Chiron had set for all of them. He'd sit there for hours. Until Chiron or one of the others came out and forced him back inside to go to bed.

Travis would spend the whole day outside on the porch. His blank gaze would be staring out into the rest of camp like he was waiting for Conner and other demigods to wander up the path back to them. 

As Jason stood on the porch with him wishing for the same thing, a quiet, muffled, piece of his soul already knew the truth. 

They would never see Nico, Will, Conner, or Pollux at camp ever again…

LACHESIS -NEW YORK

Lachesis took the full bag of threads from her sister Atropos. The sky above a steely gray as morning crept closer. The clouds obscuring the coming dawn.

Clotho happily took the bag of sleep sand from her with a mean spirited grin. The kind of cruelty that could only come from between siblings. Atropos had the decency to look worried as Lachesis prepared to leave this reality to return to their own. She unwrapped the fleece scarf from around her neck to coil it around Lachesis' own. "It'll be dark when you get there. Leave the children with their parents and hurry back."

"The gods will be scattered throughout Greece and we have so many threads. How am I to find each god and deliver the children without missing the window to return to you both?" Lachesis was right. The window of time wherein the two reality were near enough to traverse was on the Solstice and Equinox but it was only for a few hours. And the timing to journey between the two was unpredictable. It could take only a few moments within one reality and hours in another.

It was totally reasonable to think that by leaving in the early morning hours of the solstice in the Miracle laden reality could see her arriving to their home reality during it's late evening. So if she delayed her return trip she may miss the window of the Solstice for the Miracle reality and be unable to come back at all!

Clotho as she usually did, made the situation sound much simpler than it was. "Just drop the lot of them at a temple and make an announcement. The priests will ensure the miracles are safely taken care of until the gods arrive."

"Make an announcement?"

Clotho pointed out toward something behind them, "Something like that." She said simply. Lachesis and Atropos turned to see what she was pointing at.

It was a billboard at the edge of the park. Lights shining up at an advertisement. A unrealistically clear skinned woman with unnaturally white teeth was gesturing toward a cozy family scene with grandchildren surrounding an elderly couple, each with a overly cheerful expression. The wording she gestured to appeared in the 'window' of the scene and had white cartoonish sparkles meant to emulate stars around the words. "Happy Holidays! Better Care for Dear Family! It's in your hands!" The logo of an elder care company was listed at the bottom of the billboard.

Lachesis and Atropos turned back to the smug looking Clotho. "You want me to make an…advertisement for the gods to collect their children?" (Over the last few months the trio had made leaps and bounds in understanding this strange 'modern' reality with its increased availability in luxuries and decrease in proper childcare. And despite how much Lachesis would miss the readiness of those fizzy 'soda' drinks, she still preferred home to this place.)

Clotho scoffed at her while rolling her eyes dramatically. "Not a literal billboard you ridiculous-" she let out a huff before forcibly calming herself down. "Send a message through the stars. Like on that billboard. Select a few of the more noticeable ones to brighten and get their attention and tell them of our generous gifts. Then drop the little miracles at the nearest temple and come back. The gods might as well do some of the work collecting their children. We can't do everything for them."

Atropos and Lachesis had their mouths agape. "That…that's actually a good idea."

"Don't say that like you're surprised!"

Atropos turned back and finished fiddling with the scarf. "Go quickly and hurry back."

Lachesis nodded and holding the bag of threads tightly, she turned and slipped between the veil of realities to return to their original plane of existence. The Solstice sunrise lightening the morning sky around them.

"See you soon, sisters!"

"Hurry back!" Atropos waved her off.

"Don't mess it up!" Clotho's shout was the last thing Lachesis heard before disappearing from reality.