"all powers have two sides: the power to create and the power to destroy. we must recognize them both, but invest our gifts on the side of creation"- Robin Wall Kimmerer (Braiding Sweetgrass)
or
in which a daughter of Apollo strives to truly know he...
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@themarymagdalene presents center place— percy jackson and the olympians
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the god of the underworld
The Fields of Asphodel looked as creepy as it had been described to Kiwáni, its black grass long ago trampled under the soles of the billions upon billions of dead feet. Black trees stood stagnant and imposing, mixing with the high cavernous walls and the sharp hanging stalagmites. The Field seemed to have a sight breeze to it, but it was warm and humid. Kiwáni was a little grateful for that, as it was the first time she had felt warmth in the Underworld.
As the four walked through, the faces of the people surrounding them blurred, not allowing Kiwáni to get a good look at them. That made sense to her, they were neither good nor bad, not really anything. Normal.
On their left, the girl saw a security gate, and behind them a bunch of houses of every time period. They were the first pop of color the girl had seen since stepping into the elevator. Their lawns were lined with silver and golden blooms, and the grasses seemed tall and swayed in the breeze. The difference between the two places was undeniable.
Elysium.
"That's what it's all about," Annabeth spoke to everyone. "That's the place for heroes."
Kiwáni nodded her head, and took a final look. It did not look half bad.
As they moved deeper into the Asphodel Fields, the darker it got. The daughter could only see what was in front of her because of her glowing skin, though she supposed if anyone else was looking for them, she would stick out like a sore thumb. Which brought the idea that she would most likely to be the one to die first if they were to be attacked. She quickly pushed that thought out of her head.
