Born To Die

I meet my long lost cousin

As Percy stepped into the arena to face Antaeus, I couldn't tear my eyes away. He looked steady, determined, like he'd already mapped out every move in his mind. Meanwhile, Antaeus loomed over him, confident in his raw, untouchable power. The giant laughed, his deep voice echoing through the arena as he cracked his knuckles, the ground trembling beneath his feet.

The crowd roared as the fight began. Percy darted forward, quick and nimble, his sword a blur of celestial bronze as he slashed at Antaeus. But the giant barely flinched. Every hit Percy landed only seemed to invigorate him, his connection to the earth healing him almost instantly. Antaeus grinned wickedly, taunting Percy as if the son of Poseidon were a mere child playing at war.

I was only half-watching, though. My gaze kept flicking to the skybox where Rachel stood, her bright red hair a stark contrast against the muted colors of the arena. She was calm, watching Percy with an intensity I couldn't understand. There was something familiar about her—something that tugged at the edges of my memory, something I couldn't place.

Rachel wasn't like Annabeth or Nico. She wasn't a demigod. Yet she carried herself with an ease that reminded me of someone I hadn't thought about in a long time. I frowned, studying her more closely. The way she tilted her head, the slight quirk of her brow as she observed Percy. It was so... familiar.

I glanced at Luke beside me, but he was fully focused on the fight, his jaw tight, his hands gripping the edge of the railing as he watched Percy struggle to figure out Antaeus's weakness. I returned my gaze to Rachel, the nagging feeling growing stronger.

And then, like a lightning strike, it hit me.

Rachel's face, her mannerisms—it was like looking at a ghost. My breath caught in my throat as the realization slammed into me with the force of a tidal wave. She looks like my dad.

I blinked, my heart pounding as I pieced it together. Rachel was a mortal, yes—but she wasn't just any mortal. She had to be... my cousin. My father's sister had a daughter, didn't he? I'd heard stories when I was little, stories about Aunt Dorles and her family. I hadn't thought about them in years, not since my dad passed. But now, seeing Rachel standing there, it all made sense. The hair, the sharp green eyes, the quiet confidence that seemed to run in the family.

Rachel is my cousin.

A wave of disbelief washed over me. How could this be possible? How could she be here, of all places, fighting alongside Percy Jackson and the others? My mind raced with questions, but I couldn't make sense of any of it. What were the odds that she'd end up in the same war as me, in the same arena, on the opposite side of the battle?

I stared at her, my thoughts spinning. Had she ever known about me? About my dad? Did she know what I was—what we were? The answer seemed to linger just out of reach, teasing me.

"Isla," Luke's voice cut through my thoughts, low and urgent. "You're staring."

I snapped back to the present, my cheeks flushing. "Sorry," I mumbled, forcing my eyes back to the arena where Percy was still struggling against Antaeus.

But my mind wasn't on the fight anymore. It was on Rachel, and the sudden, overwhelming knowledge that we were connected in ways neither of us could have anticipated.

As the fight raged on below us, my heart raced—not because of Percy or Antaeus, but because of the revelation burning a hole in my chest. My cousin. Rachel Elizabeth Dare was my cousin. It was so absurd I almost wanted to laugh, but the weight of it kept my throat tight. I couldn't hold it in much longer.

I leaned closer to Luke, who was still gripping the edge of the railing, his jaw clenched as he watched Percy.

"Luke," I whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear over the crowd.

He didn't respond right away, his eyes still glued to the fight, but he tilted his head slightly in my direction. "What?" he asked, his tone sharper than he probably intended.

I hesitated, unsure of how to even begin. My fingers curled around the edge of my seat as I took a deep breath. "Rachel," I said, my voice trembling slightly.

His eyes flicked to me, confusion crossing his face. "What about her?"

"I think... I think she's my cousin," I blurted, the words spilling out before I could stop them.

Luke blinked, his expression shifting from confusion to disbelief. "What? Isla, what are you talking about?"

I glanced back at Rachel, who was still standing with Annabeth and Nico, her arms crossed as she watched the fight. "Her last name is Dare," I said quickly, my voice lowering as I tried to explain. "My dad... he had a sister . aunt Dana . She had a daughter named Rachel. I didn't think much about it back then, but now that I'm looking at her—Luke, she looks exactly like him. Like my dad."

Luke stared at me for a moment, his brows furrowed as he processed what I was saying. "You're serious?"

I nodded, my chest tightening. "Yeah. I mean, it has to be her, right? What are the odds?"

For a moment, Luke didn't say anything. He just looked at me, his expression unreadable. Then, he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Well, that's... something."

I frowned, his reaction catching me off guard. "That's all you have to say? 'That's something'?"

"What do you want me to say, Isla?" he snapped, keeping his voice low but firm. "We're in the middle of an arena run by a giant who could squash us like bugs, and Percy Jackson is down there trying to play hero. Now you're telling me the mortal girl tagging along with him is your cousin? How am I supposed to react to that?"

I opened my mouth to argue, but his words hit me harder than I expected. He was right—this wasn't the time or place to dwell on family reunions or the tangled web of fate that had brought Rachel into my life. But it still stung.

"I just thought you'd want to know," I muttered, looking away. "It's kind of a big deal to me."

Luke's expression softened slightly, and he reached out to place a hand on my arm. "I get it," he said, his voice gentler now. "I do. It's just... a lot right now. For both of us."

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. "Yeah. I know."

We fell silent, the sounds of the fight below us filling the air again. But my mind was still spinning. Rachel was my cousin. She was right there, close enough to call out to, and yet I couldn't do anything about it. Not here. Not now.

Luke squeezed my arm lightly, pulling me out of my thoughts. "We'll figure it out," he said quietly. "After this. I promise."

I looked at him, the sincerity in his eyes grounding me just enough to nod. "Okay," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

But as I glanced back at Rachel, I couldn't shake the feeling that this revelation was only the beginning of something much bigger.