Alternatively

By Our Rite

His eyes snapped open.

Today is the day.

Percy tore off the blankets and swung his legs over the mattress, waiting for his eyes to adjust as he stared and listened. Chiron should still be asleep, he had been keeping track and making sure, but sometimes he woke up to make a big breakfast. Normally, he wouldn't complain, but just this once, he needed him to stay in bed.

At least until it started.

Quietly, he fumbled for the pair of pants he had stashed under the bed and slipped through the legs as he stood, stretching tired muscles and cursing softly when he bumped the nightstand. A cup rattled on the wood and he stilled it with a cautious glance at the cracked door across the room, watching for the orange hint of candle glow.

When the walls stayed dim, he grabbed the training leathers he had stolen from the armory and padded across the room, fumbling with the ties in the dim flicker of the dying fire. The early morning chill was seeping through the closed doors and sealed windows and the sky was already lightening, he was already late, but he took a second to toss another log into the hearth. He gnawed on his lip as he stoked the crackling embers and for a moment, he wondered what the hell he was doing.

What good could possibly come from this?

Heat fluttered his hair back as the flames blossomed anew and he stood up, glancing over his shoulder one last time before easing open the front door. Goosebumps flared across his skin and he grabbed his sword of the wall before slipping outside.

The village was still, covered in dew and tinged with smoke smouldering from burnt down sconces. Animals rustled in their pens when he skated by and the moon was a quiet sliver overhead, stars winking in the dark dawn. He rubbed his arms and clenched his jaw, slipping with the shadows.

Farm hands and caretakers were starting to drift out of houses, hardly paying him any mind as they tended to chores with sleep still clouding their heads. It was only when shopkeepers started to air out their stores did he stroll down the beaten paths, head up and eyes forward as not to look any more suspicious than he already did.

The glares were tired, but he felt them scorching his back.

His grip tightened on his sword and he forced himself to walk, keep walking and keep calm. Nerves flooded through his veins and his muscles ached from keeping so composed, but he saw the stables up ahead and sweat prickled on his palms. Two buildings, one of which he spent all day in and the other, well...

The horses were not so quick to stir, a few nickering and keening for attention when he snuck through, but he just said soft hellos on his way to the tack room. It was unlocked, just how he knew Mr. Keeran would leave it, and he peeked through the connecting door just to be sure everyone was gone.

"Alright," he breathed, tucking his sword through a belt loop and wedging into the adjoined tack room. "Alright, grab a saddle, grab a halter, grab a dragon."

Which wasn't exactly up his alley.

Arms full of gear, Percy waddled down the aisle as he peeked into every unclaimed stall.

Come on, he grit his teeth as each turned up empty. Come on, one of you has to be here.

The sky was pale through the ceiling doors, left open from early departures, and he was going to be real pissed if he had to do the rite without it's main component.

Because he would go by boat if he had to; it wasn't like it would make things worse.

A dull thud jolted his heart and he looked down to a hump of scales and a drooling maw peeking over the last stall door. She eyed him with a dopey expression and he weakly smiled as his shoulders slumped; she would have to do.