Goodnight Moon ↣ P. Jackson + A. Chase

2.11

It was always easy for Kassandra to tell when she was dreaming because it almost always started with darkness -- darkness so thick and heavy that she for the briefest moments she was sure that nothing else ever existed. 

She stepped forward, racing into the darkness until nothingness turned into endless corridors made of stone and carved from caves that lead on and on until she ripped through one as if it was nothing more than a sheer curtain and came tumbling to the ground upon dark ruins and stones. 

Kassandra winces, landing hard on her knees as she hit the remains of a temple column. She huffs and pushed herself up to a standing position, following the path up the side of the mountain, feeling the heavy weight that sunk down harder and harder upon her shoulders. 

She held her flute in hand, staring up at the remains of the place of the titans, the center of their world. 

"Brave little thing, are you?" a voice rumbles around her. "Only a child, but brave. Luke told me all about you. The girl that hates the gods." 

"Luke doesn't know anything about me," she hears her only voice say, and she spins around only to come face to face with the tip of a javelin as it comes down hard. "Not anymore." 

Kassandra raises her flute, two-handed and strong, but the spear breaks clean through breaking it apart. The javelin passes through her in a swirl of mist, carving through her face and down her chest. She would have been dead if this had been real. 

Gasping, she pressed her hand to her chest heaving desperately to gain air into her lungs that burn with the phantom pain of being struck down.

Taking a moment to gather herself, Kassandra finally stands, casting a final look around herself, before continuing up the path that carved its way up to the top. 

The top, overlooking such a far and endless view, she couldn't stand to look at it as she finally turned around. Underneath the weight of the entire world was the Lady Artemis ragged and sweating, straining with her arms raised and her strength held true. 

There was no one else for her to see, at least not in her dreams, as she came to kneel before the goddess. She wanted to touch her, wanted to bear this weight in her place because this was the Lady Artemis, the woman who had brought her to camp when she had gotten herself lost all over again. 

She touched at the chains as if her touch alone could break them away and free her from the burden. Kassandra feels tears burning. 

"How can I help you?" she breathes. "What can I do for you?" 

Her hands raised, pressing against the clouds as she shoves at it desperately. She lets out a scream at the weight, at the way it sucked all the energy from her. It was so heavy, impossibly so, but for a moment it budged, lifting higher for the goddess to shift and just her position. 

"Stop, Kassandra," Artemis says, silver eyes opening to search over the room until they land back on her firmly. "I won't let you hold this burden. Not in your subconscious or a dream. My foolish brother should have known better than to send me such a strong maiden this way." 

"Aunty," she gasps, dropping to her knees once more. She raises her hands to the clouds, pushing again, and it ripples pain down her back. "This is only a dream, isn't it? This can't be real." 

"No, it's real enough," the goddess says begrudgingly. "But instead of me visiting you, it's you visiting me." 

She grinds her teeth, gasping out. "But gods don't dream." 

"We rest," she breathes. "And that is enough for Apollo to pull his tricks." 

Squeezing her eyes shut, she settles herself to hold more of the weight. If Kassandra allowed her thoughts to wander, allowed herself to focus on anything but this, if she was almost able to ignore the sense of being crushed entirely.