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𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪
ELIA DIDN'T SPEAK the entire way back to the cliff. She felt, sort of, like she was watching from somewhere at the back of her brain, stuck in the walls of her mind behind those flashes of awful, terrible things. They were fading now, like a dream she couldn't quite remember, but the fear remained. Shadows curled around her ankles, twining between her fingers and twitching like they felt the mess in her head.
Nico and Percy walked on either side of her, their gazes flickering over every once and a while. She could feel it, the way they were looking at her. Worried, confused. They would ask what she saw. Elia wasn't sure what she would say.
Back at the edge of the cliff was a cosy campfire that hadn't been there before, crackling in a ring of stones. A little girl sat cross-legged on the ground beside it, scratching between Mrs. O'Leary's ears. Elia recognized her, faintly.
The little girl poked at the fire with a stick, and the flames glowed a little more richly red than normal fire. "Hello," she greeted softly, a red shawl over her brown hair. She looked to be around eight, but there was something much older in the flickering of her eyes.
Elia could practically feel Percy tense beside her, ready to fight, but before he could do anything, Nico bowed to the little girl. "Hello again, Lady." Percy followed suit. Elia didn't move, staring at the flames. Everything felt so far away. Her head spiked with pain, the rush of her head and each little sound from the atmosphere around her becoming far too much for her hearing aids to handle.
"Sit, Percy Jackson, Nico Di Angelo," the girl offered. "Would you like some dinner?" She waved her hand once and a picnic appeared across the grass. There were plates of roast chicken, baked potatoes, buttered carrots, fresh bread, and pie, the sort of home-cooked meal that you always dream of but never get.
Percy sat on the ground next to Nico. Elia still didn't move. The little girl considered the blonde for a moment before rising to her feet. She moved with a sort of grace that was inhuman, like the world was smoke and she simply moved through it.
Elia didn't move, staring at the campfire. The light from the flames flickered across her face, highlighting the hollows of her cheekbones and the sunken shadows beneath her blue eyes. She'd been so tired lately.
The little girl stood in front of Elia, reaching out to take one of the blonde's hands in her own. Her small palms were warm and soft and reminded Elia faintly of camp and strangely of her father. Home.
"Elia Bassett," the girl murmured, like she'd heard the name eons ago. "You've seen much."
The daughter of Apollo filled the silence, her voice dazed. "It's no wonder she went mad. It's... awful."
Nico frowned, watching carefully. Percy looked restless, his face taut and impassive like he was pushing a thousand things back at once. The twitching of his hands in his lap was the only indicator of what might've been worry.
