Chronicles of a Huntress

Chapter 6. "And One Shall Perish By A Parent's Hand."

Hey guys!

At last, chapter 6 is here! So, for this chapter I'm studying a little bit my take on how Zoe felt knowing that she would die and being unable to say anything about it. I think the experience must have been quite traumatic for her, actually, so I wanted to go over that with this chapter.

Disclaimer: The title of this is directly taken from the prophecy in "The Titan's Curse". As you will notice, there are some differences between the storyline in TTC and the one here but I haven't read TTC in a few years so bear with me.

Please fav, follow and review! Next chapter is going to be centered around Zoe and Percy and I'm sure you will want to read that :)

Cheers for reading!

Chapter 6. "And One Shall Perish By A Parent's Hand."

The moment the prophecy was recited was the moment she had seen coming for a long time.

The end had to come. After so long, after so many adventures, it had to come. Of course it did. Everyone dies, after all. Even an immortal huntress.

For more than two thousand years, no male had been any sort of opponent for Zoë Nightshade.

For more than a thousand lifetimes, she led the Hunters with precision and focus.

Throughout all the deaths and losses around her, throughout the grief, throughout the change; precision had been the thing she'd held onto in order to be the best leader possible. Her goal was one, her enemy was one. So, it didn't matter that cities, cultures, entire civilizations crumbled to forgotten dust around her. Of course it didn't matter because she remembered. She remembered her goal and she stood by it, no matter what.

Still, even she needed a moment. Now that the end was coming, regardless of how long she had expected it, she needed to process it without judgemental or pitiful witnesses. The end had been slowly cornering her, so smoothly that most times, it wasn't a pressing concern.

The end was inevitable.

Still, that didn't mean she was prepared for what it entailed.

She needed a second to bring her world back into focus. She needed a second to gain the strength she needed to carry on with her life's work until the end. Thus, in what seemed like the blink of an eye, a blurred eternity had passed and she found herself in the archery grounds of Camp Half-Blood.

With an impatient grunt, Zoë shrugged her silver coat off her shoulders before clearing the strands of hair away from her face. Though still braided, her hair was messy, about to break free from its bind. Between Artemis' abduction, the missing daughter of Athena and the fact that she was running out of time, the last thing in her mind was her hair. On any other day, she would have rearranged it in order to hide her true distress but she couldn't. It not only seemed as if she had barely any strength left but also, it was as if she was about to explode. Everything was piling up, so intensely and urgently that she didn't seem able to breathe easily. Her every cell was filled with so much pain and shock and every shallow, anxious breath she took only served to fill her with the panic that she was running out of time and there was still so much to do.

Taking a shuddering breath, Zoë knelt on the ground, her face buried in her lap as she made herself as small as possible. She took one, two, three cleansing breaths, her eyes tightly closed as she told herself everything would go as it was meant to go. Slowly, her hands stopped trembling and her heart stopped pounding in her chest.

Then, she stood up, her gaze on the target before her. She notched an arrow to her bow.

As she went through the mechanical procedure of archery, one she'd perfected throughout her life, she tried to eliminate any emotion and pain she felt. She went through the logical rationing, the one she had reminded herself of time and time again.