CATHARSIS, jason grace¹ [REWRITING]

𝟬𝟮𝟲. a city she longs to forget

"I ASKED IF YOU WERE HAPPY," Aera sneered at the gates of the windy cemetery. Her hand was trembling slightly as she swiped a piece of hair out of her face. "Now that you've seen how horrible of a person I am, do you feel better? Is this what you wanted?"

"You knew I was following you the whole time," Jason realized, clenching his fists. "You led me here on purpose."

"Only because you wouldn't stop accusing me of murdering someone."

"So you brought me to a cemetery."

Aera narrowed her eyes at him. "I heard you talking to that Hazel girl. She can sense death, can't she? The time she felt your friend die doesn't line up with your little hunch."

"My accusation wasn't baseless. You were found armed and standing over his body. I did what was necessary."

"Oh, yeah? And what was s-o-o necessary about treating me like a monster and not the most fabulous demigod you've ever met?"

"You're a lone half-blood," Jason listed. "You won't give your identity. You won't let us help you. You—"

"You are such an idiot!" Aera cut him off with enough venom to cut down an elephant. "Do you really think I don't see past your crappy defender of the helpless act? I'm getting bored. Let's drop the serenade, m'kay?"

"Charade," Jason corrected. "Let's drop the charade."

"Whatever," she said sharply. "You wouldn't go through all this trouble just for one demigod, no matter how hot she is. Tell me the truth. Why are you so threatened by me?"

Jason wet his lips as he fidgeted with his mother's necklace hanging around his neck. The longer Aera stared at him with that piercing gaze, the less confident he felt. Why did she have to be so smart? And cute?

"Is it because I'm a pretty girl who can fight?" she began vicariously, when he lagged on an answer. "Is it because I refuse to wear that gods-awful shade of purple? Is it because my dad's from South Korea? I swear to the gods, what is your damage?"

"The pearl in your hair," Jason blurted.

Aera blinked. "The what?"

"The saltwater pearl in your hair." Jason's heart began to pound, just mentioning it. "You shouldn't be wearing it."

Aera let out a strangled breath and Jason couldn't tell if it was a scoff or a sob. "Let me get this straight. You chained me up like some kind of rabid animal and have been hunting me down for the past three days because of a hair comb?" Aera yanked the saltwater pearl hair comb out of her hair. "Why didn't you just tell me it didn't go with my outfit?"

"It's not like that," Jason clarified, running a hand through his own hair in frustration. "It's...it's been prophesied that the graecus who wears a saltwater pearl in her hair will destroy our legion and uproot our lives as we know it." Aera continued to stare blankly at him. Jason rubbed the back of his neck. "It's also just disrespectful. In ancient times, only the absolute elite could afford such a luxury. You haven't even began your service or earned any honors or—"

"So what?" Aera asked. Jason held back a wince, not because her voice was loud or furious but because of how utterly devoid of emotion it was. "The person I swore to protect is dead and I couldn't do anything to stop it. Do you really think I care about whatever freakshow future this pearl has in store for you and your stupid legion?"

Jason cocked his jaw. Stupid legion?

"What's left of the Roman empire has survived because our every move has been carefully planned out. My comrades have given their all for the good of the legion. They've sacrificed their childhoods, their skin and blood, and at times, even their lives to preserve our traditions. And yet here you are, doing whatever you please. Are you even worthy of being a descendant of the gods?"