𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗿𝘂𝘀 𝗳𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘀, luke castellan

ꜱɪxᴛᴇᴇɴ

The Last Day of Summer.

⚡

    AS NIGHT FELL, A GRAND FEAST WAS PREPARED, honoring Percy, Annabeth, and Grover with the customary laurel wreaths adorning their heads. The tables in the dining pavilion were piled high with roasted meats, fresh fruits, and delectable desserts. Campers from every cabin filled the air with laughter and chatter, the mood festive and celebratory. Yet, despite the abundance of food and the lively atmosphere, Rory's appetite waned. The clamor of the feast felt distant, her mind preoccupied. She sat at the Hermes table, picking at her plate, barely uttering a word throughout the meal.

Following the feast, the camp gathered at the bonfire, where the burial shrouds crafted for Percy, Annabeth, and Grover were set ablaze—a tradition symbolizing their survival against all odds. The flames rose high into the night sky, casting flickering light across the campers' faces. Annabeth's shroud, a beautiful creation of gray silk adorned with embroidered owls, stood in stark contrast to Percy's. The Ares cabin had been the ones to take charge of Percy's shroud, fashioning it from an old bedsheet adorned with painted smiley faces, X'ed-out eyes around the border, and a prominent "LOSER" painted boldly in the middle. Maddie seemed very much satisfied with herself over her artistic endeavor, her grin visible even in the dim firelight.

The Apollo cabin took charge of the campfire songs, as usual, their voices harmonizing in cheerful tunes that rose above the crackling flames. The rest of the camp joined in, clapping and swaying to the music, but Rory couldn't even bring herself to pretend to be having fun. Preferring solitude, she lingered in the shadows at the edge of the gathering, her back pressed against a tall pine tree. The songs and laughter that filled the air seemed muffled, distant. Rory's eyes were heavy, her exhaustion creeping in, but she fought to stay awake, blinking away the encroaching sleep. The bonfire's warmth did little to comfort her, if anything, it only served to remind her of the coldness that settled into her bones.

Eventually, the weight of everything became too much to bear. Rory couldn't take it anymore. She slipped away from the campfire, moving quietly through the trees, the path back to the Hermes cabin familiar in its darkness. The campfire's glow faded behind her, and she found herself in the quiet solitude she craved, each step taking her further from the noise and celebration. Her body ached with fatigue.

By the time she reached the Hermes cabin, Rory felt a profound sense of relief. The cabin was quiet, the other Hermes campers still at the bonfire. She entered, her steps soft on the wooden floorboards, and made her way to her bunk. The shadows felt more comforting here, the familiar scent of the cabin grounding her in the present. But she knew that as soon as she closed her eyes, the nightmares would return, bringing with them the same haunting images and fears she had been battling for nights on end since Kronos's first visit to her almost three years ago now.

Rory sank onto her bunk, her limbs heavy with exhaustion. She hoped that a few hours of sleep would give her the strength to face whatever came next, but deep down, she knew it would be anything but restful. As she lay there, the distant sound of the campfire songs drifted in through the open window, a reminder of the world she had left behind. Rory took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart, and braced herself for another night in the dark caverns of her dreams.

    Before long, it was the fourth of July. The Hephaestus cabin had once again outdone themselves with their celestial spectacle. Frames of animation painted the night sky—Heracles felling the Nemean lion, Artemis in pursuit of a boar, and a plethora of other heroic myths unfolded in luminous brilliance. The campers gathered to watch, their faces lit by the colorful bursts of light, each explosion echoing across the campgrounds.

Rory watched the show with dull interest. The fireworks were dazzling, but they couldn't hold her attention for long. After all, it was the same thing every year. Every year, every day, every hour. Always the same thing, day after day. The repetition was stifling, the sameness unbearable. Stuck at camp forever, or at least, until she died in some horrible way. There was no escape from this cycle. What goes too long unchanged destroys itself.