Mortem Obire

Chapter 12

Chapter 12: The hidden daughter

The ceiling of Cabin Eleven was growing far too familiar for her liking, especially when she knew what the ceiling she was supposed to be waking under looked like. Why and when were her two most silently asked questions whenever she thought about it for too long. Though she supposed she had never had too much experience with interacting with her father in either life. She tilted her head, starting at the flaky white paint above her. Maybe that was simply how it was supposed to be – her father never close, only to watch her from afar? Harriet could only ponder on the thought and wonder when exactly she had become so greedy.

She wanted what was hers, wanted to round up those she considered precious and guard them like a dragon was said to guard gold. She wanted to wrap them in blankets and protect them from the struggles of the world. The way she had never been protected, but had, at times, wished to be. Yet she wasn't allowed to do just that.

"Why not?"

Harriet paused, listening to the voice which sounded like the god on the train. The one who didn't seem to want others to realise exactly who he was. Not for the first time, she wondered exactly who he was. He had to have been extremely powerful, given who her father was, and that didn't leave too many options in the Greek Mythos. She wondered then on whether she should go and ask someone about powerful figures in history or whether that would get her knocked out again.

Part of her was almost alarmed at how blasé her thoughts were about the god who had knocked her out on something of a whim. Then again, she was used to being just a tiny cog in a gigantic machine, even if she didn't quite like the thought of prophecies and all the woes they brought. Her hands curled into fists. She wasn't supposed to be chained by strings of fate, free as she supposedly was from the fate of that world. She closed her eyes again, scowling before they snapped back open and she wiggled her way out of her sleeping bag.

She missed sleeping on a soft mattress, especially when she knew there was one waiting for her in the cabin she was supposed to be residing in.

Trudging outside, she greeted the morning sun with half-open eyes and a yawn. The golden light almost felt like a greeting, and a part of her could only wonder what her father was doing right there and then. Whatever he was doing which made him too busy to claim her whilst the twins had already been acknowledged and accepted by him. She wondered if it was because of the plague she had inadvertently caused. Gods could be petty, vain creatures, and her father was no exception. Not that it made her want to bury him in the blanket she wanted to wrap around her siblings any less. He was family, after all, and they had to be safe.

Even if there was a sliver of her heart entrenched in jealousy at the fact they had all been acknowledged by their father and welcomed into Cabin Seven.

"Harriet! You're up!" Laurel raced over towards her, grinning as she bounded to a stop. "You feeling better now?" she asked, squinting at her then. "You look better."

"Uh, I guess?" Harriet mumbled, scratching at the back of her neck even as Laurel grabbed her by the arm and dragged her off towards where their other half-siblings were gathering.

"Summer said you're basically one of us," she said matter-of-factly. "You just haven't been claimed yet for some reason." Laurel continued tugging her forwards, towards the stone seats of the amphitheatre where people seemed to congregate when not at dinner or participating in activities. "We can tell our mothers that we're sisters when we go back home after the summer's over!"

"I already told my mother," Harriet said, blinking as Laurel came to a stop and stared at her.

Laurel frowned. "How'd you—oh, prophecy powers?"