Climb (Percy Jackson x Reader)

fifty-two

✺ EMBERS ✺

Under the dark blanket of the night, she had found her way back into the forest. The earth was warm under her knees, its energy pulsating as gentle ripples through her body. Before her, an empty expanse of grass sways in the breeze.

Once, long ago, it had looked like this. When she was a child, hopeful and bright-eyed and unaware of what had lain in store for her.

Then it had changed. The land would sprout flowers at her command, blooming forth delicate rings of white which would dance with the breeze. She would kneel before those honeycombed wreaths of remembrance, just as she does now. She would think over the fallen warriors they meant to honor—flowers bloomed anew to join the land, and she grew older and smarter as her eyes lost their luster.

Time would pass. It always did. She would wonder how much longer it would take until she faded.

Time passed. It always did.

And her eyes were bright again.

Past the reflection of stars against the sky and behind the golden traces of divinity within her soul. There was a light: it burned more intensely than the flames she had learned to command, reignited from the very sacrifices which had once been memorialized here, where she had knelt as she allowed herself to dim.

Its embers had once fallen as her fire had died—they sank into the husk that was left of her soul, succumbing to the shadows. Yet for whatever reason, they had refused to dissipate. Faltering against cold and cruel winds, flickering in the depths of darkness, and still, they had risen, climbing towards the light offered to her by others.

There were many, but it was his, most of all. His light, his goodness, his acceptance. It shone brighter than the rest, beckoning her flame to keep fighting as he offered his own in support. It glittered within his eyes, ocean-green waves crashing with love and pain and adoration which would barrel through the depths of her soul, yearning to hold her fast and keep her close.

He had faltered, too, sometimes. And her embers would extend as his started to flicker.

They were bound together. Searching for the other's soul, their light, their love, and sharing what they were able.

Her eyes were bright, and the world was warm, and her fire continued to burn—because of him.

And he was kneeling beside her, reaching for her to fit against him, breathing in harmony to her rhythm. He was strong, he was warm.

He was here.

And nothing mattered anymore—the world echoing everything around them; the grassy clearing which was foreign and empty and haunted with memory; the power of the surrounding universe, magnetized to those who were merely existing yet still somehow commanded its very will. The sky was twinkling with distant stars, the trees were whispering with breeze and birdsong, the wind was dancing upon an unsung melody of its own creation.

Amidst it all, two half-bloods—scarred and war-hardened and still repairing their souls—were sitting under the sprawling galaxy while the trees whispered around the song passing through their branches. For the first time, the world was being gentle with them. It was shifting, singing, offering out its answers. And none of it mattered.

All they do is hold each other, existing to the shared rhythm of their hearts. Burning with the shared light inside their souls.

They had already found each other. They had already found their answer.

For once, they didn't look back.