{1} Princess - P. Jackson 🔱

"Flash News! We got attacked again."

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I woke up the earliest you could ever imagine. Quietly walking around the room I got an old backpack from underneath my bed and filled it with necessary things for the quest. Ambrosia, Nectar, anything you could ever imagine to take care of wounds, my sewing kit with some random scraps in case we need it and my camera.

The camera that I have is a pink samsung pl 120. My father bought it the day he met my mother, he told me she blessed it to never break so he could keep taking pictures of things he would love to remember. That explains why I found so many pictures of her when he gave it to me. Well, I took advantage of that and now I take it everywhere I go.

I decided to leave my hair naturally, those blonde waves needed to breathe a little. I put on my mom jeans, a white hoodie with the playboy logo in the front, throwing on an oversized leather jacket and my black converse, since I didn't want to ruin my other shoes. My make up was simple; black eyeliner, highlighter in the corner of the eye and a little on the tip of my nose. I put a little bit of blush to highlight my freckles and because in the winter I turn white like snow. Also, my favorite strawberry lip gloss.

I was ready but I didn't feel ready. Looking at myself in the mirror, I stopped smiling, letting my thoughts take me back to the dream I had this night.

Annabeth was kneeling under the weight of a dark mass that looked like a pile of boulders. She was too tired even to cry out. Her legs trembled. Any second, I knew she would run out of strength and the cavern ceiling would collapse on top of her.

"How is our mortal guest?" a male voice boomed.

The voice was deeper and lower, like a bass guitar. Its force made the ground vibrate.

Luke emerged from the shadows. He ran to Annabeth, knelt beside her, then looked back at the unseen man. "She's fading. We must hurry."

The hypocrite. Like he really cared what happened to her. He let her take the burden and now is worried?

The deep voice chuckled. It belonged to someone in the shadows, at the edge of my dream. Then a meaty hand thrust someone forward into the light—Artemis—her hands and feet bound in celestial bronze chains.

I gasped. Her silvery dress was torn and tattered. Her face and arms were cut in several places, and she was bleeding ichor, the golden blood of the gods.

"You heard the boy," said the man in the shadows. "Decide!"

Artemis's eyes flashed with anger. I didn't know why she just didn't will the chains to burst, or make herself disappear, but she didn't seem able to. Maybe the chains prevented her, or some magic about this dark, horrible place.

The goddess looked at Annabeth and her expression changed to concern and outrage. "How dare you torture a maiden like this!"

"She will die soon," Luke said. "You can save her."

Annabeth made a weak sound of protest. My heart felt like it was being twisted into a knot. I wanted to run to her, but I couldn't move.

"Free my hands," Artemis said.

Luke brought out his sword, Backbiter. With one expert strike, he broke the goddess's handcuffs.

Artemis ran to Annabeth and took the burden from her shoulders. Annabeth collapsed on the ground and lay there shivering. Artemis staggered, trying to support the weight of the black rocks.

The man in the shadows chuckled. "You are as predictable as you were easy to beat, Artemis."

"You surprised me," the goddess said, straining under her burden. "It will not happen again."