The Godly Pursuant (A Percy Jackson fan fiction)

14 - Maggie Crowberry

After that Big House meeting late afternoon, as the sun was setting, I came out planning to do wall-climbing. But when I saw the lava pouring down the wall, I retreated to the cabin instead.

I laid down to my bed and opened my nightstand drawer to look for something to fidget with. Then I groped on something— a piece of dark blue denim. It was Dylan’s jumpers.

I pulled it out and settled on my bed playing it with my hands, thinking of what would’ve happened if I brought Dylan safe home. Everyone would’ve been very happy. Dionysus, Pollux, and everyone in camp. They would’ve agreed if I told them that he was the most beautiful boy I’ve seen.

But it’s too late. He’s gone. I failed.

I… I failed.

Failure.

The Seven and One to bring failure or victory they intend…

Maggie’s function to the prophecy is already fulfilled, Percy said.

The One, that’s me, brought home failure. Percy already knew…

And then I fell on swirling darkness.

It was dark, but this time I was able to see some things, like the trees and the leaves on the ground, enlightened with what seemed like moonlight.

Saranissa… somebody whispered. I flinched.

“Who are you? Show yourself!” I shouted. The echoes came back at me.

Help me. Help me, my child.

My firmness began to crumble down. “M-mom? Is that you?”

Yes… Her answer was almost a hiss.

“Where are you?”

Help me. If you help me now, I will claim you.

“Claim me?” At that moment I felt like a bag of groceries.

Yes… Help me.

“How?” My voice shook.

Help me. Restore me to life.

“What?” I spattered. “You’re dead! Dead people are supposed to stay dead! Mom, really, Hades will kill me. Anything else but that.”

The female voice gently laughed. Are you afraid of Hades? You shouldn’t be. You are stronger.

“But he’s a god. He’s like, the god of the dead. You don’t wanna defy the god of the dead unless you want to get dumped in the Fields of Punishment.”

You are stronger because you are still alive.

I backpedaled. “But he’s the god of the dead, so that figures. And you are dead so that figures just as well.”

I am not dead. I already told you that, she answered, almost impatient.

“Then where are you?”

I will claim you, if you help me awaken.

“A-awaken?”

There was no answer.

“Awaken,” I whispered. My mother is asleep?

I racked my brain for pieces of information I might have to put together.

This woman is assuming that she is my mother. And she said she’s asleep. And Annabeth told me of only one thing that is asleep. Something that hasn’t awakened yet.