𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐔𝐒──𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘺 𝘫𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘴𝘰𝘯

[ XI. the titan of light ]

Time seemed to drag on slower than usual. Had it been a couple of hours? A day? Zehra couldn't tell. Thalia had run into the terrace for a grand total of five seconds, stopping by to make sure Zehra was alive before she left to regroup with her hunters. Zehra had ended up dozing off sometime soon after, only waking up when Annabeth had burst into the room. The blonde had gripped both of Zehra's hands and scolded her for almost dying. Zehra had to refrain from rolling her eyes.

Zehra begged Annabeth to help her out of her chair but the daughter of Athena had firmly shaken her head. Will Solace had announced to everyone that Zehra was not allowed to leave the terrace until the gash on her arm had closed up. Annabeth thought Will was right when it came to medical matters, being a child of Apollo and all. Zehra thought it was absolute bullshit.

After making sure Zehra chugged a glass of water, Annabeth, too, left the daughter of Aphrodite to stew with her thoughts alone. She was sure a whole day had passed when her next visitor arrived: Percy.

He looked beaten up.

Not physically, of course; the curse of Achilles had taken care of that for him. But Percy seemed torn apart in every other way a person could be. The bags under his eyes had darkened and a thousand thoughts were frantically running behind his eyes.

Percy slowly stumbled towards Zehra's lounge chair and collapsed on his knees next to it.

"Percy?" Zehra spoke cautiously.

His hands pulled at the edges of his armour, ripping the bronze material off his body. The son of Poseidon took in three rattling breaths before lifting his head up. His sea-green eyes were rimmed with a startling shade of red.

"Percy," Zehra tried again. "What happened?"

"I just spoke to the titan, Prometheus," the boy mumbled.

"What?" Zehra asked sharply. "Did you kill him?"

"No, no," Percy shook his head. "We talked under a truce flag. Zehra, he offered me a way out of...out of all of this."

A sense of dread filled Zehra's stomach. "What do you mean?"

"He gave me Pandora's Jar. Well, I guess it's technically called a Pithos. There's only one spirit left in it."

"Hope," Zehra remembered. Percy nodded in confirmation.

"Prometheus told me that when we're ready to let go, I should release the last spirit from the pithos as a sign of surrender." Percy paused. "He said Kronos would spare the survivors."

Zehra held her breath. "What did you decide?"

Percy chuckled as if the answer was obvious. "I gave it to Thalia and told her to lock it up. I think I'm allergic to pithoi."

Zehra smiled warily. "So I guess we're doing this then?" She rubbed circles on the inside of her wrist. "Defeating Kronos, I mean."

"That's the plan, Sparky," Percy responded.

Zehra immediately retorted, "If you don't stop calling me that, I swear to god I'll gut you in your sleep, Jackson."

"Does that mean here's not a safe place for me to nap?" Percy questioned innocently.

Zehra huffed. She scooched over as far as she could on her lounge chair and swept the edge of her blanket up. "This spot's all yours if you can fit."

Percy needed no further invitation. He kicked his muddy shoes off and climbed into the chair, resting his head against the plastic headrest with a loud groan. Zehra flicked half of her blanket over him and tucked in the edge to make sure it wouldn't fall off of him. Percy watched her with amused eyes.