𝙄𝙉𝙁𝙇𝘼𝙈𝙀𝘿; heroes of olympus

death isn't a kind burden

ERITH JAY
APHRODITE SPREAD HER hands on the table, an almost placating gesture. Gone was the airy boredom of the goddess―now was something serious.

"You have gotten multiple warnings about Leo Valdez," Aphrodite said. It wasn't a question.

"Yes," Erith said.

"But you have no solid reason as to why these warnings exist."

"Yes," Erith said again.

"It is because, my dear, Leo Valdez's destiny has already been claimed ten times over. He is not just living the life of a demigod. He is living the life of someone very, very important.

"The difference between you and Leo Valdez is the fact that his fate is woven very tightly, while yours is hardly woven at all. You can make choices. He hardly has the room for that. The Fates took one look at him and knew what his destiny was going to be.

"But you, my dear, you are the unpredictable part of his destiny. No one ever expected you two to become as tightly woven as you have been. Your destinies are not interlaced at all." Now Aphrodite placed her hands together, gloves sliding against each other, fabric on fabric.

Erith felt her heart pounding, but she wasn't sure if it was the adrenaline of the Romans attacking or the time ticking down or what Aphrodite was telling her.

"Tell me more," she practically pleaded.

Aphrodite indulged her with a smile and unlaced her fingers, laying her hands out on the table once again. With a sweeping motion, the face of Percy Jackson appeared. "Everyone knew your destiny would be woven with his. They just didn't know where you tied in. Same with Luke Castellan, and Patroclus, and Achilles―they just didn't know when you would appear." Now Aphrodite's detached expression was suddenly grave. "We just didn't expect you to pop up like this, in the middle of a war."

Erith felt sick.

"Here is your issue," Aphrodite said. She waved her hand over the table, and all of the food and drinks disappeared. In their place, three shimmering images.

One image showed Percy and Annabeth, covered in dirt and grime, haggard and pale. They were both bleeding from cuts, and Percy's neck was bleeding.

The second image showed Leo riding Festus alone, his expression grim and determined. His face was covered in soot.

The third image showed something Erith had seen too many times―Jason Grace's corpse lying in sand and Piper screaming over him. Two kids stood beside her.

Aphrodite laid her hand on the first image of Percy and Annabeth. "This is inevitable," the goddess said. "But either way will be hard for the three of you.

"If you decide to help them, you will become different. You will change for both the good at the bad. In helping them, you will make things easier for them.

"But in helping them, one of them will die―and I sense that person will be Percy Jackson." Aphrodite looked up, honey brown eyes meeting Erith's own. "After all, there has never been allowed to be two of you fighting at the same time. Percy was there when Luke killed himself―will you be there when Percy does the same?"

"If I don't help them," Erith grated out, "will they live?"

Aphrodite waved her hand as if this was a silly question. "Obviously. But they will be different. And you will be different. Because your fate is intertwined with Percy Jackson's fate, and your life depends on Annabeth Chase."