𝐂œ𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐬é𝐬 [Percy Jackson]

97

Later, he made a resolution: Never EVER sleep in Tartarus.

Demigod dreams were always bad. Even in the safety of his bed on the Argo II, he'd had horrible nightmares. In Tartarus, they were a thousand times more vivid.

First, he was younger again. Barely thirteen. It felt like a lifetime ago. 

In the dream, he was with his mom. He hated to admit it, but he had slowly started to forget her, what she looked like, what she sounded like. Juliet Allaire was barely in her late thirties, though she looked much younger. She had been a model in her teen years and then given up on that dream after Hadrian was born. 

He always felt like she resented him for that. For being born. For preventing her from living her life. 

In the dream, they were running from a monster. Hadrian was terrified, this monster sounded exactly like the ones his mom used to tell him about. And now it was almost upon them.

"Hadrian-"

His mom tripped. Hadrian ran. 

COWARD, His brain yelled. COWARD.

"Help me, help your maman, ungrateful child"

Hadrian threw two rocks as big as his fists. They collided with the darkness, whatever monster that was chasing them howled in pain and diverted their attention to Hadrian- two or three more hellhounds joined. 

Hadrian almost pissed his pants. 

"Maman-"

"This is your fault" She shrieked, trying to get to her feet, "All your fault"

One hellhound pounced. Hadrian wanted to yell at her to get out of the way. It happened too fast. 

The scene shifted.

Hadrian was older, climbing to the summit of Half-Blood Hill. He had been there only once when Chiron had given him permission to go into the city for preparations. Overhead a storm was raging.

Thunder shook the valley. A blast of lightning split the pine tree down to its roots, opening a smoking crevice. In the darkness below stood Reyna, the praetor of New Rome. Her cloak was the color of blood fresh from a vein. Her gold armor glinted. She stared up, her face regal and distant, and spoke directly into Hadrian's mind.

Your friend- my daughter has done well, Reyna said, but the voice was another woman, calm with a hint of arrogance. Hadrian had heard Annabeth talk a lot, so it wasn't hard to put together the fact that this was her mother- Athena. The rest of my journey must be on the wings of Rome.

The praetor's dark eyes turned as gray as storm clouds.

I must stand here, Reyna told him. The Roman must bring me.

The hill shook. The ground rippled as the grass became folds of silk—the dress of a massive goddess. Gaea rose over Camp Half-Blood—her sleeping face as large as a mountain.

Hellhounds poured over the hills. Giants, six-armed Earthborn, and wild Cyclopes charged from the beach, tearing down the dining pavilion, setting fire to the cabins and the Big House.

Hurry, said the voice of Athena. The message must be sent.

Hadrian wanted to ask why. Why him? Why not her own daughter? 

The ground split at Hadrian's feet and he fell into darkness.

His eyes flew open. He cried out, grasping Percy's arms. He was still in Tartarus, at the shrine of Hermes.