𝙄𝙉𝙁𝙇𝘼𝙈𝙀𝘿; heroes of olympus

a world full of monsters

ERITH JAY
BORROWING THE HELICOPTER was easy. Getting Piper's dad on board was not.

Piper only needed a few words through Leo's improvised bullhorn to convince the pilot to land on the mountain. The Park Service copter was big enough for medical evacuations or search and rescue, and when Piper told the very nice ranger lady that it would be a great idea to fly them to Oakland Airport, she readily agreed.

Piper's charmspeak was a strange thing to watch, but Erith couldn't say she wasn't grateful. Without Piper, they would be stuck up here with a traumatized man that―

Erith didn't like being around mentally unwell people. She had never been sure why, but she always hated it. It wasn't really depressed people. It was people like Piper's father―people that were so torn up inside you just... couldn't face them.

Speaking of, Mr. McLean just kept muttering, "No." They picked him up off the ground as he talked, his voice shaking. "Piper, what―there were monsters―there were monsters―"

He sounded absolutely broken. Erith could hardly stand it. She wasn't sure how Piper was holding herself together.

Erith and Gleeson gathered their supplies while Leo and Jason helped Piper with her dad. Erith didn't mind being with the satyr this time. He didn't even try to make any jokes. One look at Tristan, and he was awfully quiet.

Erith didn't know exactly what the giant had done to Tristan McLean, what exactly had shattered his spirit, and she wasn't sure if she ever wanted to find out. They had reduced a successful man into a little boy crying about monsters under his bed.

Putting it like that almost made it sound funny. It was not.

Miraculously, Erith's sword had survived. They found it laying near where the pit had closed. She picked it up, it warmed her hands. She hit a catch on the hilt and it transformed into her sun earring, gleaming and bright as always. She clipped it to her ear, grateful, at least, that she still had that.

After Gleeson and her had finished gathering things, they walked back over to Piper, Jason, Leo, and Tristan McLean. The four of them were talking―well, if you could count what Mr. McLean was stammering as talking.

"It'll be okay, Dad," Piper was saying as Erith and Gleeson approached. She was charmspeaking, Erith realized, trying to soothe all of the jagged edges inside of him now. Her voice was remarkably calm for someone who was watching her only mortal family member lose his mind. "These people are my friends. We're going to help you. You're safe now."

He blinked, and looked up at helicopter rotors. "Blades. They had a machine with so many blades. They had six arms..."

Something jolted in Erith's stomach. Trauma. That was trauma he would carry with him for a long, long time.

When they got him to the bay doors, the pilot came over to help. "What's wrong with him?" she asked.

"Smoke inhalation," Jason suggested. "Or heat exhaustion." Erith was insanely grateful for his quick thinking.

"We should get him to a hospital," the pilot said.

"It's okay," Piper said, her words still soothed with charmspeak. "The airport is good."