"You cannot simply stand on the sidelines and let others make your choices. It is time for you to take the reins and write your own story."
"Sing, O Muse," she muttered softly, writing with a delicate flourish she most definitely didn't inherit from her father, "Of the story penned as it unfolds. Sing, goddess, until your throat runs dry and your chest caves inwards, of a pain they will never know. "
╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗
IT was highly agreed upon at Camp Half-Blood, which nestled comfortably in the evergreen forests by the glistening waters of the Long Island Sound, that Clarion Jung was meant to be an observer. She was not built to bear glistening bronze armor, nor for clashing swords or winning battles. Her lithe frame and long legs, oftentimes decorated with penned tattos, were wasted in every footrace she gave up half-way through.
"Sing, O Muse," were the words she would write, with the only gift her mother had ever given her; with the curse her family had bestowed upon her, and she thought about the home she once had. Her father had lied: the children at camp certainly weren't like her. They were bred to be heroes, groomed for victory: Clarion's only purpose was to write their stories. She thought she would never get the glory.
And Clarion was okay with that.
╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝
IT'S scary to take your fate into your own hands.
SOMETIMES the choice isn't yours.
A/N: All characters except for my OC's aren't mine, of course, they were made by the wonderful Rick Riordan, as well as the overarching plotlines and general antagonisms. There's gonna be some cursing in this book - bc I curse like a sailor and can't help myself - as well as depictions of violence, death and blood.
YOU ARE READING
Sing, O Muse [Percy Jackson]
FanfictionThalia panted and glanced over her shoulder to shoot Clarion a glare more menacing than the monster's, "Can you do anything? Pull out your sword!" "I, uh - I'm really more of a writer and musician than-" She glanced at the lion and shuddered as it...