ᴾʰᵒᵇᵒᵖʰᵒᵇⁱᵃ [ᴶᵃˢᵒⁿ ᴳʳᵃᶜᵉ]

viii.

a/n: trigger warning towards the end for suicidal ideations

Jason intertwined their fingers and led Aza off the gangplank and down through the twisting park paths. If she were in any other situation, it almost would have been peaceful - serene, even. She had never been able to tell songbirds apart; the most she knew about them were that they nested in the woods at Camp and typically called during their Friday Capture the Flag excursions. But at the park there were dozens singing in the trees, their chirps blending together rather beautifully. The sun shone through gaps in the foliage above them, and the two demigods wandered down a small dirt path that eventually led them out to the city streets.

They hesitated at the exit, and Jason squeezed Aza's hand gently; he tore his eyes away from the bustling city to look at her, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "Do you feel anything?"

Aza closed her eyes and took in a deep breath; she listened as best she could. The songbirds still sung behind them, bidding them goodbye, and the city traffic and pedestrian conversations awaited them. Mindless chatter floated through the air, and everything felt strangely normal - to an extent she didn't often feel. For once, her heart beat calmly as she peeked an eye open and shook her head. "Nothing. Let's keep going."

They wandered down the streets of Sparta, weaving past pedestrians. Occasionally, Aza would stop and close her eyes, trying to feel... anything. She didn't know exactly what she was looking for - if she was supposed to sense the shield, she had nothing. Aside from feeling slightly overwhelmed in a city she didn't know, looking for something she didn't know much about, Aza felt strangely normal. At least she had Jason beside her, holding her hand whilst they walked. Their interlocked fingers swung between them, and occasionally he would glance over and give her a small smile.

"I wish we had time to go to one of these restaurants." Aza said wistfully, glancing in the large glass windows of a small café on the street. "Or sit in a café, or just feel..."

"At ease?" Jason supplied. When she nodded and sighed, he gave her a small, toothy smile. "Once all of this is over, we're going on a proper date. I'm going to find some way to take you to dinner, or to... I don't know. We'll do something: something normal."

"I'd like that," Her lips tugged into a miniscule smile and she spared a short glance at him as they crossed a small plaza with a statue of a tall marble warrior, wearing a plumed helmet and holding a sword ready in the air. Something about the statue made her pause, and Jason stopped with her, glancing at her in confusion.

She studied it - almost like Jason, the statue's features were magnificently sculpted and perfect. He wore a determined expression, like he was in the middle of battle. Aza closed her eyes, and she sucked in a deep breath. The mindless chatter and blares of traffic pounded at her ears, but the feeling of normalcy disappeared. Her face scrunched together in concentration and her gust twisted; she felt something she could only describe as a symphony of pounding drums, calling towards her. Something pulsated in the northeast like a heat signal - she felt a pull; like a magnet.

It must have been the shield. She could feel it calling towards her; restless whispers began to tickle at her ears - like the spirits of the dead; they urged her in that direction, their voices heavy with warning. The energy hit her in pulses, like the ripples after a stone is tossed onto the smooth surface of the lake. "I feel... something. North-east." She peeked an eye open and pointed in the direction.

They left the plaza and found a small side street with a better view of the hills that surrounded Sparta. Instantly, her eyes found magnificent marble ruins, and the top of a hill just beyond the north edge of the city. Her gut tightened and twisted; she knew that had to be it. She pointed, "There."