𝙄𝙉𝙁𝙇𝘼𝙈𝙀𝘿; heroes of olympus

graecus sun

JASON GRACE
JASON WAS HAVING A HARD TIME.

He would never say it to anyone's face: not heartbroken Annabeth, who looked like she was slowly dissolving into a ghost. Not frightened Nico, who acted like a dog that had been hit. Not brave Piper, who had saved the ship but had not saved Leo. 

Erith, his sun: in Tartarus. Percy, his ally: in Tartarus, too. Jason had no idea how they were.

Leo, gone: disappeared from existence; hurled so far into the sky there was no way he could have survived. But Jason had asked Nico and Nico had told him the boy was alive―for now.

"Any word from the king?"

Jason turned. Nico stood against a column, which reminded the son of Jupiter jarringly of Cupid's palace.

But Nico was stronger now. His arms ripped with muscles. His body was lean and taut, his hair a mess in his eyes, his lips smoother. He looked like he was transforming from a ghost to an angel.

It was a welcome change. But the accusation in his tone and the fear in his eyes were not.

"No," Jason said. "Every day, he calls for me later and later."

"We need to leave," Nico said. "Soon. Erith and Percy are close to the doors. They're going to need us if they make it through alive."

Jason nodded, his chest pulling tight. A current of understanding passed between him and Nico. They were both ready to do anything to get those two out of Tartarus, even if it killed them.

Jason wanted to ask Nico how he was doing, if he was okay, if he would stay with them once they got Erith and Percy back, but his words stuck in his throat. He feared that the boy wouldn't dare stay with Percy here.

Maybe Erith would talk to him. She had to. Gods, Jason needed her more than ever right now. She was always more in-tune to emotions than him.

Lord Auster will see you now, a disembodied voice said.

Nico nodded curtly at Jason. "Good luck, Grace."

"Thanks," Jason said, and something swelled in his chest. He took a deep breath. "Nico?"

The son of Hades looked at him, a question in his eyes.

"This will be the last day."

Nico's pale lips pulled up into a smile. "It'd better be."

Then he dissolved into shadows, and Jason went to go meet the king.

―

Choosing Greek was too easy for Jason.

New Rome had been his home for as long as he could remember. He never forgot moonlit kisses under the stars with Reyna, or the games and the cheering and his legion and the life he had built for himself.

But he had never been wholly satisfied, never wholly Roman. Never wholly loved. He was built up to be an example, a gleaming statue that moved and walked and talked.

In New Rome, he had only been a person to Reyna. To the others, he was a figure of war.

He hated that.