Wildflowers, Percy Jackson ₁

062, guy's chains breaking picture

CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

₊˚࿐࿔ 𖥧‧₊⚘ ❀༉. 𓏲｡

The Three Fates themselves took Luke's body.

Sylvie had never seen the old ladies before, and she wished she never did. They were a terrifying sight—three ghoulish grandmothers with bags of knitting needles and yarn.

She knew the Fates had their job and were good at it, and Sylvie could respect that. But she hated them. It was their fault Florian was gone. Her big brother could still be here if they hadn't cut his life string. She hated them, and she didn't care how unfair and childish that sounded.

They gathered up Luke's body, now wrapped in a white-and-green Greek robe, sandals, and helmet. Hermes unwrapped Luke's face and kissed his forehead. He murmured some words in Ancient Greek—a final blessing.

"Farewell," he whispered. Then he nodded and allowed the Fates to carry away his son's body.

As they left, Sylvie thought about the Great Prophecy. The lines now made sense to her. The hoaxed one shall make a decision at last. The "hoaxed one" had nothing to with Percy or Luke, like everyone originally thought. It was Sylvie in the end.

For their foil can change his ways so fast. Because Sylvie made the choice to fight Eurydice—her foil—and let her die, Sylvie changed the tides of the final battle. If Eurydice had been able to get to Luke, she would've changed his mind, and Luke would've never made the heroic decision that he did.

A hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap. The hero was Luke. The cursed blade was the knife he'd given Annabeth long ago—cursed because Luke had broken the promise and betrayed his friends.

A single choice shall end his days. Percy's choice, to give Luke the knife, and to believe, as Annabeth had, that he was still capable of setting things right.

Olympus to preserve or raze. By sacrificing himself, he had saved Olympus. In the end, Percy wasn't really the hero. Luke was.

Sylvie was glad she finally made that clarification in her mind. Moments later, Sylvie's knees buckled finally. Percy caught her, but Sylvie cried out in pain, because he'd grabbed her broken arm. The limb was bending in a completely opposite direction.

"Oh, gods," Percy said, voice quivering. He brushed back the hair out of her face gently. "Sylv, I'm sorry."

"It's alright," she croaked as she passed out in his arms.

"She needs help!" Percy yelled.

"I've got this." Apollo stepped forward. His fiery armor was so bright it was hard to look at, and his matching Ray-Bans and perfect smile made him look like a male model for battle gear. "God of medicine, at your service."