¹ 𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 ! - [Percy Jackson.]

ACT III - 3.3

❝ THE TIRED VOICE

OF MOONLIGHT; ❞

A little advice for the first time shadow-travelers - try to avoid doing it if you're scared of:

a) the dark
b) cold shivers up your spine
c) strange noises or
d) going so fast it might feel like your face is peeling off.

For Lucena, however, it was her favorite way to transport. It was quick, effortless and oddly comforting. To her, it sometimes made her feel like she didn't really exist, like she wasn't even real, and sometimes, that felt like a breath of fresh air - a very depressing sense of relief. The only thing currently assuring her that she was indeed real, was Percy's hand clasping onto hers.

A minute later the shadows melted into a new scene. They were on a cliff in the woods of Connecticut. At least she assumed as much. She hadn't exactly traveled a lot in her life. Around them were a lot of trees, low stone walls and big houses. Down one side of a cliff, a highway cut through a ravine. Down the other side was someone's backyard. The property was huge - more wilderness than lawn. The house was a white colonial-style two-storey. Even though it was right on the other side of the hill, it felt like it was in the middle of nowhere. She saw a light glowing in the kitchen window, and a rusty old swing set stood under an apple tree.