𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙤𝙣𝙚 - (𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐞)

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𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐃𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 °♪↷

𝘈 𝘗𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘺 𝘑𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘖𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵
- 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢 𝘣𝘺 𝘮𝘦

Far away, in the distance, families were breaking apart, their lives unraveling in quiet despair. No messengers arrived to ease their pain, no comforting rainbows lit the sky to remind them of hope. Iris knew what she had done. She knew it was right. She couldn’t stand idle while he, the boy who had saved them all, was left to rot in misery. Not after everything he had sacrificed. She wasn’t a servant, nor a mere tool for the gods to wield. She had fought for him, defied both Zeus and Hera in their mighty thrones, demanding justice for the hero they had betrayed.

And now, she has paid the price.

Stripped of her place among the Olympians, no rainbows bloomed in the sky, and the people’s prayers went unanswered. Iris’ gifts had been silenced, a punishment as swift as it was cruel. The gods had made their message clear: defiance would not go unpunished. But Iris didn’t care. Day after day, she walked and flew across the land, her wings aching, her body weary—but her heart unyielding. She would find him. She had to.

He had been cast out—thrown away like nothing—by the one person he had loved more than anything, just after the death of his mother. It had broken him. He wandered now, lost, his once bright eyes now dull and red, hollow from tears that refused to come. His knees buckled under the weight of his grief, his body weak from hunger and thirst, but it was his soul that ached most of all. Percy didn’t know where to go. He was a shadow of himself, a hero discarded by those he had saved.

And yet, Iris had no idea where he was, or what had become of him. She only knew that he was somewhere out there—alone, abandoned, and consumed by the weight of betrayal.

But she was going to find him. No matter the cost. No matter how far. She would heal what they had broken.

And this time she was not going to fail him

---

As Percy walked through camp, he noticed the disgusted faces glaring at him from every corner. Their eyes followed him like daggers, each glance filled with contempt. He quickened his pace, his heart hammering in his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut, so tight that he nearly collided with Chiron.

"Ah, Percy, there you are. Come in," Chiron said softly, the concern evident in his voice. Percy hesitated but followed him inside, his head bowed, shoulders slumped in defeat.

Inside the hall, the air was thick with tension. Mr. D paused his conversation with the satyrs, giving Percy a fleeting look of pity before turning away. Everyone Percy knew was gathered, seated in judgment. Faces he had once trusted, now twisted with disdain or worse—amusement. Among them, Annabeth sat with a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips, her eyes cold and unreadable.

"Perseus Achilles Jackson, we are gathered here to determine whether you will remain in the camp or be cast out," an old satyr declared, standing with grim authority. Percy's stomach lurched at the sound of his full name. Another satyr rose, listing the voters: Annabeth from Athena’s cabin, Cecil Fletcher from Apollo’s cabin, Silena Beauregard from Aphrodite’s, Thalia from the hunters, Juniper from the wood nymphs, and Grover representing the satyrs.

Annabeth stood first, her face painted with false grief. Crocodile tears welled in her eyes as she spoke, her voice shaking with carefully crafted emotion. "He should be kicked out of the camp after what he did to me! I never should’ve trusted him!" Her words sliced through Percy, each one a deeper betrayal than the last. As she broke into exaggerated sobs, Thalia moved forward, her presence like a gathering storm.

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧 ; 𝙾𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝𝚜 (Requests open)Where stories live. Discover now