𝙄𝙉𝙁𝙇𝘼𝙈𝙀𝘿; heroes of olympus

stars make love (and love makes cruelty)

ERITH JAY
THE FIRST THING Erith was aware of was the dark.

It was everywhere. She couldn't see anything except pure, inky blackness. It felt as if she wasn't even turning her head, because it was so same, so infinite. 

She knew she was real. When she looked down, she couldn't see her feet, but she could feel her own breathing, leaking down her chin like water.

She was about to panic. She hated the dark; she always had. But then a voice called, "Erith."

Erith swiveled. A girl was standing in the darkness. Erith couldn't tell how far she was, but she was sure the girl hadn't been there before.

She looked to be about twelve, with auburn hair. She was wearing the same clothes that Thalia and her Hunters had been wearing, but Erith knew that she wasn't just a Hunter.

"Artemis," Erith breathed, surprised that her voice still worked. She sounded breathless and scared.

The goddess regarded her for a moment. Her expression displayed nothing―no warmth, but no cold, either. When she spoke, her voice was regal with a tinge of sadness. "I have wanted to meet you for a long time."

Erith blinked. "Me?"

Artemis nodded. "My brother kept you well-shielded. And Zeus shutting down Olympus... well, it was difficult."

"Then how are you here?"

Artemis considered. "This isn't the mortal world. This is a space of subconsciousness, I suppose."

Erith's breath caught in her throat as she remembered the events leading up to this place. "Am I... alive?" She was afraid of the answer.

Artemis smiled, her lips pulling upwards. "Yes. That is one thing I am sure of. It is not your time yet. Not unless you want it to be."

Erith hesitated. "Then how do I get out of here?"

"You have to figure that out." Artemis strode forward until she was face-to-face with Erith. They were about the same height, Erith registered, as Artemis cupped her cheek with a hand. "It's okay."

Erith swallowed, surprised by the sudden tears pricking her throat. Artemis regarded her sadly, as if she was a Greek tragedy. "You have a hard path ahead, I think."

Erith was afraid to speak, for fear she might cry, but Artemis smiled again, white flashing against her teeth, bright as the moon. "We will meet again, my niece." She stepped back and held out her hand. "Trust yourself."

Then stars exploded from her hand, lighting up the darkness in a supernova, and Artemis was gone.

In her place, a million stars, glowing, blinking, dotting. Erith looked around, her eyes wide.

And then the stars converged.

The first image was two hands, intertwined. It zoomed out and made the shape of a boy and a girl. The boy was holding onto something nonexistent, his hand reaching out for the girl. The only color on the image other than the faded white of stars were two dots where the boy's eyes should be―bright green. Sea green.

The other color was the gray on the girl's eyes. She was dangling from the boy's hand, looking up at him.

Somehow, Erith knew the girl was Annabeth. And with a sinking feeling, she realized the boy was Percy.