𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝙵𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚞𝚗𝚎'𝚜 𝙵𝚊𝚝𝚎

Annabeth is Terrifying, and Sage is still Confused|| 11.

Travis draped an arm over Sage's shoulder to keep her steady, and then they set out. "What was that?" He asked as they hastily walked towards a baby blue mansion. Presumably where Chiron dwelled.

His words pinged around her mind, ricocheting around like an exaggerated pinball machine. Sage was still trying to make sense of it all. Her mind moved slowly, it was foggy as if she were waking up. All the images were burned into her mind, so much so that she couldn't shake them. Every time she blinked she saw the myriad of bodies, from both strangers and friends alike.

The voice... it's creak crawled through her ears as if it was still talking. Free me. That's what it had been repeating... free them from what?

"I-" Sage scoffed, ran a hand over her temple. She couldn't gather any of what happened into words. The weightless sensation, the voice which boomed from every angle, the premonition like none she'd had before- it made no sense. "I heard this voice," she said, while shaking her head.

Travis' eyes lingered on Sage, his warm gaze marred with confusion. He shook his head in return, more frantically than Sage. "A voice?" He asked. He threw his left hand up gently, before it fell back down. "What kind of voice?"

Sage mumbled incoherently, having just as little understanding as Travis. "I don't know- a woman's voice." It had sounded like something ripped from a horror movie. Sage half thought a ghost was about to posses her, or something. "It kept saying free me."

Should she have been telling him this? What if was some sign of evil or something? Sage wished she knew what it meant. She wanted to have all the answers, but she was in the dark.

Travis didn't seem to have the answers either. His brows were furrowed in thought as they arrived before the mansion. Sage couldn't help but think it was unfitting when compared to the rest of camp.

It was four stories tall, with a color that belonged at a gender reveal party. It was a dull and pale blue, with stark white trim contrasting it. It towered over Sage menacingly, like a Dracula's castle but for retired, old people.

She and Travis stumbled up the stairs, and onto the wrap-around porch. He opened the door in a hurry, and allowed it to swing open. "Chiron," he shouted. They began to walk inside without waiting for a reply.

Sage was pretty sure this is where Jason was taken, too. Their steps were light but the two moved quickly, before storming into another room. Jason was standing with the same gold sword in his hand, speaking with a man in a wheelchair.

The man in the wheelchair wore a shirt that read 'World's Best Centaur,' in large lettering. His mane of dark hair was windblown, and his face was adorned in lines around his lips and eyes. Despite this, his chocolate brown eyes seemed exhausted, and sorrowful. "Oh, dear," he said quietly, his gaze flicking between Travis and Sage. "What happened?"

His voice had a timeless quality that Sage was in no position to appreciate. His wise stare remained on Sage for a moment, as she looked between him and Jason. "You're Chiron?" She asked. He nodded. He sort of reminded Sage of those you'd see on the boardwalk, on father's day. Except their shirts said 'World's Best Dad,' instead of centaur.

She wondered if his shirt was some sort of a joke. After all, a centaur was half-horse and half-man; which she remembered from history class. He was in a small wheelchair though, certainly not big enough to house horse legs.

She momentarily fixated on Jason's sword, wondering why he had it out. "Are you okay?" Jason asked. He tone was low, but compassionate and curious. He glanced down at his sword, like he'd forgotten he was holding it, then lowered the blade.

Sage's head ached like she'd pounded five arctic blast slushees in one breath. Still, she straightened her spine and nodded unconfidently. "Yeah," she answered, standing on her own now, with the help of Travis. "Well, I think so anyway."