¹𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀. percy jackson

LIV.

ｔｈｅ ｌａｓｔ ｏｌｙｍｐｉａｎ

THE THREE FATES THEMSELVES TOOK LUKE'S BODY.

They were three ghoulish grandmothers with bags of knitting needles and yarn. Which didn't seem scary until you realized that the yarn was the lifeline of every mortal being in the world.

One of them looked at Lucia, and even though she didn't say anything, her life flashed before her eyes. The last thing she saw was her own funeral pyre and a golden shroud with a shimmering violet hyacinth embroidered at the center. All this happened in less than a second, she didn't get a glimpse of anything else. Suddenly, the pain in her stomach grew tenfold.

Lucia had known for a while that the poison was spreading...and you know what they say, old habits die hard.

It is done, she said.

Atropos held up a snippet of blue yarn—and Lucia noticed the way Percy stared at it. Suddenly, a strand of violet appeared in Lachesis's hands, connecting to Clothos' spindle. this one shall be determined soon.

Lucia took a ragged breath in. She looked at Percy who was already staring back at her. She had managed to stop using him as a crutch, but right now all she wanted was for him to hold her again.

They gathered up Luke's body, now wrapped in a white-and-green shroud, and began carrying it out of the throne room.

"Wait," Hermes said.

The messenger god was dressed in his classic outfit of white Greek robes, sandals, and helmet. The wings of his helm fluttered as he walked. The snakes George and Martha curled around his caduceus, murmuring, Luke, poor Luke.

Lucia thought about May Castellan, alone and waiting for a son who would never come home.

Hermes unwrapped Luke's face and kissed his forehead. He murmured some words in Ancient Greek—a final blessing.

"Farewell," he whispered. Then he nodded and allowed the Fates to carry away his son's body.

As they left, The Prophecy lines unraveled to Lucia. The hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap. The hero was Luke. The cursed blade was the knife he'd given Annabeth long ago—cursed because Luke had broken his promise and betrayed his friends.

A single choice shall end his days. Percy's choice, to give him the knife, and to believe, as Annabeth had, that he was still capable of setting things right.

Olympus to preserve or raze. By sacrificing himself, he saved Olympus.

On the other side of Percy, Annabeth's knees buckled. He caught her, but she cried out in pain, He'd grabbed her broken arm.

"Oh gods," He said. "Annabeth, I'm sorry."

"It's all right," she said as she passed out in his arms.

"She needs help!" He yelled.

"Me too..." Lucia's voice came out a squeak. She gripped her stomach and stumbled. Percy tried to reach over but with Annabeth already in his arms, Grover stepped in.

"I've got this." Apollo stepped forward. His fiery armor was so bright it was hard to look at, and his matching Ray-Bans and perfect smile made him look like a male model for battle gear. "God of medicine, at your service."

He passed his hand over Annabeth's face and spoke an incantation. Immediately the bruises faded. Her cuts and scars disappeared. Her arm straightened, and she sighed in her sleep.

"Give her a few, She will awake soon." Apollo turned to his daughter. "Little Star don't worry the poison hasn't spread too far and your arm will be good as new. While you heal we will have enough time to compose a poem about our victory: 'Apollo, Little star, and their friends save Olympus.' Good, eh?"