Heavens fallen to the sea

Chapter Thirteen: Into the Shadows

Brandon's steps quickened as he made his way toward the forest, his mind racing with a jumble of fear, anger, and determination. The suspicion from the other campers lingered in his thoughts, the looks on their faces still fresh in his memory. Even though Percy and Annabeth had assured him they didn't believe he was responsible for the attack on Jason, Brandon could feel the weight of doubt hanging in the air.

*I didn't do this*, he kept repeating to himself. *I didn't hurt anyone.*

But he knew that wasn't enough. He needed proof—answers that would clear his name and help him understand the power stirring inside him before it became something he couldn't control. He wasn't just going into the forest for himself; he was going to stop whatever darkness was lurking there.

The shadows between the trees seemed darker than usual as he stepped past the tree line, the familiar sounds of the camp fading into silence behind him. The woods had always been a place of mystery, but tonight, they felt suffocating. The wind barely stirred the leaves, and even the usual rustling of small creatures scurrying through the underbrush was absent.

Brandon's heart pounded in his chest as he ventured deeper into the woods. Every crack of a twig or shifting shadow set him on edge, but he forced himself to keep moving. He had to find the figure—the one made of shadows that had spoken to him before. It knew more than anyone else about what was happening to him, and if it had any connection to the attack on Jason, Brandon had to know.

The memory of that dark figure's words echoed in his mind. *You are chaos.* He shuddered, pushing the thought away. He couldn't let fear paralyze him. Not now.

The trees closed in around him as he reached the spot where he had first encountered the figure. It was the same small clearing, ringed with tall, gnarled trees whose branches seemed to stretch out like skeletal fingers. He paused, his breath catching in his throat as a familiar coldness washed over him.

And then, from the shadows, it emerged.

The figure seemed to materialize from the darkness itself, its form shifting and swirling like smoke. Its face was indistinct, but the eyes—those piercing, glowing eyes—bore into him with an intensity that made Brandon's skin crawl.

"You've returned," the figure said, its voice like a whisper carried on the wind. "I knew you would."

Brandon swallowed, trying to steel himself against the fear creeping up his spine. "What do you want from me?"

The figure moved closer, though it never seemed to touch the ground, gliding just above it like a wraith. "It is not about what *I* want. It is about what *you* need."

Brandon's hands clenched into fists. "I don't need anything from you."

The figure chuckled, the sound cold and hollow. "You're lying to yourself, Son of Hera. You seek answers. You seek control. And I can give you that."

Brandon's heart raced. "I don't trust you. You've been messing with my head, filling it with doubts."

"Doubts?" the figure's voice grew softer, more insidious. "Or truth? Hera is not the benevolent mother you believe her to be. She has hidden your true nature from you. She fears what you could become."

Brandon's chest tightened at the mention of his mother. He had never met Hera in person—never spoken to her. She had claimed him at camp, sure, but he had never felt connected to her the way other demigods were with their parents. But the idea that she feared him? That unsettled him in ways he didn't want to admit.

"I don't care what Hera thinks," Brandon said, though his voice lacked conviction.

The figure loomed closer, its shadowy form nearly enveloping him. "Oh, but you should care. Because whether you like it or not, she is your tether to the gods. And without her protection, you are vulnerable. Alone."

Brandon's breath caught. "Is that why she's looking for me? Because she thinks I'm dangerous?"

The figure's glowing eyes seemed to flicker with amusement. "She knows you are dangerous. But not in the way you think."

A cold shiver ran down Brandon's spine, and he took a step back, his heart pounding harder. "What do you mean?"

The figure's voice became a soft hiss, like a serpent coiling around his mind. "You are not just the son of a goddess. You are something more. Something powerful. Something chaotic. Hera has kept you in check, bound by her rules, but those chains are breaking. The attack on the camper, the darkness inside you—it is all part of your awakening."

Brandon shook his head, refusing to believe it. "I didn't hurt Jason. I wouldn't."

The figure leaned in, its face—or what passed for a face—mere inches from Brandon's. "You think you're in control. But the power within you is growing. And soon, you won't be able to hold it back. You *will* hurt them. All of them."

Brandon's stomach churned. The doubt that had been gnawing at him flared to life, and his hands trembled at his sides. "No," he whispered. "That's not true."

"It *is* true," the figure said, its voice turning cold again. "And if you don't learn to control it, you will lose everything. The gods. Your friends. Percy."

At the mention of Percy's name, Brandon's fear twisted into anger. "Leave him out of this."

The figure's eyes glowed brighter. "He cares for you, doesn't he? But caring isn't enough to save you. Soon, he will see you for what you truly are. And when that time comes, he will turn against you."

Brandon's anger flared, his hands clenching tighter. "You don't know anything about him."

"I know more than you realize, Brandon," the figure said softly. "I know the darkness inside you. The chaos. And I know that Percy cannot save you from it."

Brandon's heart pounded in his chest, his emotions spiraling out of control. "Then what do you want me to do?!" he shouted, the frustration and fear finally bubbling to the surface. "What am I supposed to do?"

The figure's shadowy form seemed to expand, towering over him, and for a moment, Brandon felt like the forest itself was closing in on him.

"Embrace your power," the figure whispered. "Stop fighting it. Let it consume you. Only then will you understand what you truly are."

Brandon stared at the figure, his mind spinning. He didn't want to believe it. He didn't want to believe that the darkness inside him was unstoppable, that he was destined to lose control and hurt the people he cared about. But the figure's words echoed in his mind, feeding the doubt that had been growing inside him for so long.

"I—" Brandon's voice faltered, his resolve crumbling under the weight of the figure's words.

Before he could say anything else, a sudden sound shattered the tension in the air—footsteps, fast and heavy, crashing through the underbrush.

"Brandon!" Percy's voice rang out, urgent and worried.

Brandon's head whipped around, and for a brief second, his heart lifted at the sight of Percy running toward him. But when he turned back to the figure, it was gone—vanished into the shadows as if it had never been there at all.

Percy reached him, out of breath, his eyes wide with concern. "What are you doing out here? I told you not to—"

"I had to find it," Brandon cut in, his voice shaking. "It knows what's happening to me, Percy. It's telling me things—things I can't ignore."

Percy frowned, grabbing Brandon by the shoulders. "Brandon, you can't listen to that thing. Whatever it is, it's trying to manipulate you. You're stronger than this."

Brandon wanted to believe him, wanted to trust Percy's steady presence and the conviction in his voice. But the figure's words had taken root deep inside him, and no matter how much he tried to push them away, the doubt was still there.

"I don't know if I am," Brandon whispered, his voice barely audible.

Percy's expression softened, and he pulled Brandon into a tight hug. "You are," he said firmly. "I'm not letting you go through this alone."

Brandon stood frozen for a moment, his heart racing, but then he slowly wrapped his arms around Percy, holding on like he was a lifeline. He didn't know what was coming next, but for now, in Percy's arms, the chaos felt just a little bit further away.