ᴾʰᵒᵇᵒᵖʰᵒᵇⁱᵃ [ᴶᵃˢᵒⁿ ᴳʳᵃᶜᵉ]

xi.

THE cavern reverberated with monstrous roars – powerful enough to shake the stalagmites that littered the ground – but it was drowned out for a moment by an explosion of stone that shook the earth. Their chariot crashed through the ceiling and rained death upon the monsters. The cavern shook, and the storm of stone battered a gryphon, which spiraled towards the ground.

Aza and her siblings were a bloody sun, washing the room in the light of sunset – it was the end of the day for the foes they faced. Clyde sneered as a boulder smashed the head of a Cyclops, nearly inverting its skull; the horses continued their downwards path towards the far side of the cavern, where Aza could make out figures in bronze armor. The horses' hooves shook the floor like an earthquake and gunned a path through an army of monsters. Aza wielded her double-sided sword and struck at an empousa from the side of the chariot just before the horses leapt a fifteen-foot chasm and she had just enough time to grip the edge of the chariot and yelp.

Westley pulled on the horses' reins and they stopped on the far side of the cabin. A wide ring of monsters surrounded three demigods – Jason, Piper and Nico – and more continued to pour from the side corridors: a flood of filth that Aza needed to cleanse. If the Cyclops she cautiously watched dared to touch her friends, Aza promised herself that she would rip it apart.

Frank was on the other side of the cavern, and had luckily dodged their storm of stone, but Leo and Hazel were nowhere in sight. Aza didn't have time to worry about them as her shield suddenly became a weight on her arm, and she noticed the light had begun to dim. Aza inhaled deeply and lifted the shield, ignoring the additional weight. She leapt over the side of the chariot and pointed towards the side corridors, turning back towards her siblings with an open mouth – but as if they were connected, or all somehow had the same plan, or all wanted to feel the thrill of battle, her siblings split into the battlefield within an instant, pushing their foes back towards the corridors. They were invincible; her siblings didn't need to worry about the blades that merely passed through them.

Their wicked grins were oddly familiar.

Even the horses blazed a path through the monsters; without Westley to guide them, they snorted and set fire to several empousa with their manes. Aza threw her double-edged sword like a spear, skewering a gryphon – she closed her hand into a fist and pulled it towards her, imagining a string connecting her to the weapon; as it returned to her hand, she aimed for a Cyclops and turned away, drawing her bronze sword from its sheath.

When Aza charged, the monsters fled. The first dracanae turned towards the girl, whose russet eyes glowed with an indescribable flame, like a raging bushfire, and the dracanae turned away, cowering in fear. She slunk back from Aza, followed immediately by one of the Earthborn, who muttered an apology under his breath.

Aza became the conductor to the sickening symphony of battle, and her body began to move of its own accord. She could have sworn she saw her uncle out of the corner of her eye – closer than he had ever been – with a grin like a madman. He winked at her and disappeared as Aza raised her shield and beat her sword against it, yelling a battle cry. The more monsters that noticed her, the more power she felt at her fingertips – and yet, the faster she expended it.

Dread filled the air, like the moisture of spring – and the tapestry of fear was woven from each tendril that snaked up the monster's minds, their fear a chanting choir in the Tartarus of Aza's mind. Her nose burned with sulfur, mixed with too many things to recognize; and Aza saw the monsters watch her like a new god had risen, bathed in bloody light.

A hellhound tucked its tail between its legs and scampered away so quickly it bowled over a Cyclops. Aza carved a path through the monsters, who dropped their weapons and ran. The few that dared to swallow their fear, the few who almost impressed her, were quickly slaughtered. She slammed her shield against a hellhound – its sulfurous scent exploded in her nostrils as she lifted it and threw it against the far wall of the cabin. The empousa that dared to clash her bronze sword against Aza's quickly exploded into a shower of gold.