Till Sunrise┊Luke Castellan

24 .·:· The Shadows under the Fireworks

Böcklin, Arnold. 'Self-portrait with fiddling Dead'. 1872 

Words: 1,613

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Fireworks boomed above Luke and Percy as they ventured further into the forest, the brilliant bursts of colour contrasting against the darkened sky. The occasional glimmer of light illuminated their path as they traversed through the shadows.

Luke gently nudged Percy's arm. "Talk about a celebration. They really pulled out all the stops for you."

"Come on, you've barely said a word since we left the cabins," Luke remarked, his voice tinged with concern.

"Just..." Percy's voice trailed off, his gaze distant as he stared into the darkness ahead. "Thinking about what the Oracle said. That I'll fail to save what matters most in the end."

Percy came to a halt, his attention drawn to nearby ruins, their ancient structures illuminated by the flickering light of Luke's lantern.

"You're thinking about your mom. I get that," Luke acknowledged, his tone soft and understanding. He carefully placed the lantern on a fallen column, casting a warm glow around them. "Believe me, I do."

The boom of a firework echoed through the pines, the sudden burst of light illuminating them.

"But prophecies? Those things are so vague."

"The quest is over, and everything the Oracle said has either come true or made sense," Percy replied, his voice heavy with the weight of uncertainty. He just wanted to understand. He felt like he was missing something.

Another firework erupted above them, its vibrant colours painting the night sky.

"Has it?" Luke asked, his gaze darting to the side.

"You shall go west and face the God who has turned," Percy recited, his voice tinged with bitterness.

Luke nodded along "Ares. Okay."

"Find what was stolen and see it returned," Percy continued, the words hanging heavily in the air.

"Clearly the bolt"

Percy hesitated, looking stuck on his words. Choked on them.

"And you call be betrayed... by one who calls you a friend."

A red blast of fireworks illuminated them, casting eerie shadows across their faces as they locked eyes.

Percy's eyebrows furrowed, and he took a shaky step back, his eyes beginning to glisten with unshed tears.

"Well, the reason Clarisse is still here is because..." Percy's words trailing off. "You never said anything to Chiron about her. Did you?" His voice trembled with realisation.

An orange spark from an overhead firework illuminated Luke's face as he stepped forward, his movements hesitant and uncertain.

"You couldn't," Percy continued, his voice gaining strength. "Because you knew Clarisse didn't steal the bolt."

As Percy's mind raced to catch up with itself, the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place.

"You did," his voice barely above a whisper.

Percy's eyes darted down as he started to piece everything together. "You worked with Ares to plant it on me so when the shoes you gave me pulled me down into Tartarus, the bolt would be delivered right to Kronos."