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When the dark clouds begin to roll in, there was no storm in the horizon.
The chariot lurched and bumped, pushing them in all directions, as a rocky beginning to their flight. Oriana felt its full force brush through her hair, lifting it up like a dark banner against the sky. Rising over the lake, the chariot took them heavenward, battling the forces of high winds that were bound south. Behind, more dark clouds gathered in the horizon. At the sight of the approaching greyness, she tightened her grip on the reins and urged the pegasi to fly faster. There was an uneasy pit in her stomach that wouldn't rest. She couldn't swallow the fear that came with it. It was a long flight... and an even longer descent below.
The thing about prophecies — as she soon came to understand — was that they were a driving force more than anything else. It was fear that eventually motivated a prophecy to come true from the confines of myth and legend. The avoidance manifested it to become larger than life, to be more than simple words that were uttered in the name of divinity. Prophecies were often riddles that only came to reality because of the fear lurking behind every choice that was made in an effort to curve the path of fate. That was the first mistake of tragedies. It's when they believe that destiny can be changed and that the heavens can be moved is their first step into the descent of a miserable fate. Oriana often found herself at the precipice of believing that certain destinies can be fooled.
But she had never tried to persuade the road of fate. The daughter of tragedy knew that there was nothing to stop it — not even love, not even hope — and the song was written a long time ago. The love could be there and it would not matter. Tragedy took what it wanted.
The chariot lurched once more and Oriana steadied, brushing a strand of her hair away from her face before turning around. "Where are we even going?"
This time, Annabeth said, "Nevada."
"Nevada?" Oriana shot an incredulous look over her shoulder. "Of all the places—"
"Because, just like you, I had a vision too," she started. "And I came to you because I think you did too."
At this, Oriana had no energy to lie when her tongue finally unfolded itself. "I did," she said. "My mother visited me."
"What did she have to say?"
"Just the usual — terrible omens and a prophecy of dark things to come."
"Oriana."
"It's not anything bad," she said with a roll of her eyes. "We've all been hearing that for years now. It's nothing new. Demigods always have bad dreams."
"We do," Annabeth said. "But in light of recent events, that is more concerning. Especially if..." She faltered. "If Percy is involved."
"She didn't tell me anything about your boyfriend if that's what you want me to say." Oriana paused, watching her carefully. "But you had a vision of him."
