when we were young,
did we dream about
different worlds
because we didn't
like living in this one?

•❅───✧❅ ONE ❅✧───❅•

ANASTASIA HEARD THEM. Every morning, when the sun lit the world anew with burning fires, and every night, when the stars began to look like patchworks of iridescence. She heard them cackling inside her ears, regaling her of the shattered expressions of her friends as they watched her side with Luke. They spared no detail, amid their passionate glee to sever Anastasia's traitorous heart, as they told her how betrayed she looked when they had made eye contact. She heard them, everywhere she went; and it slowly became normal to hear the insanity within her mind.

Why?

Because she was helping the world. No, she was saving the world from the loathsome gods who cared only about themselves and not the children they subjugated to have a life expectancy of 10 years old. She was going to remake the world, in her own vision, to help people like her have a home. That was the entire point. So, Anastasia ignored her mind's incessant laughter because she knew she was right.

She wanted to talk to her father about this, but it already felt weird since she barely knew anything about him. The weight of the burden she must bear, she mused one quiet evening; in order to help heal the world, Anastasia must be willing to put aside her own personal dilemmas to work together with the god she had always wanted to meet. If Morpheus could sense Anastasia's troubling thoughts — which were keeping her awake, tossing and turning in her nice bed that Luke presented her with as a small token of his appreciation — he didn't mention it.

Instead, he took her away from the land of the living and to the world of dreams, teaching her things that he should've taught years ago to her. Anastasia soaked up his words, like he was a pastor standing in front of the altar, preaching about humanity's greatest sin — oneself.

Morpheus, her father — the words on the tip of her tongue, but never uttered in the sanctuary of night — taught her how to dreamwalk in case she needed to reach him. He taught her how to induce dreams onto monsters and demigods, making them drowsy enough for Anastasia to shoot an arrow through their hearts. He taught her how to command the Oneiroi — the dark-winged spirits of dreams who can only come out at night.

"Focus, little dream," Morpheus whispered softly into Anastasia's ear, drowning out the voices in her head. Cold sweat dripped down her forehead as Anastasia concentrated on concocting an illusion of a calm meadow instead of a gloomy dark cave. The laughter made it difficult.

"I'm trying!" Anastasia grunted, hands straining against her stiff position to rest back at her sides. The cave flickered occasionally, like a broken light switch. Sometimes, Anastasia could make out the golden beams of sunlight or the swaying grass, but it would be replaced with a dark, wet stone in front of her. The sight alone was enough to make Anastasia stop to catch her breath.

She panted heavily, letting her arms rest on her knees as she crouched down. "No...more." She gulped, trying to inhale as much oxygen as she could into her lungs without choking. "Can't..."

"Rest, then," Morpheus sighed, and the shadows grazed Anastasia's cheek, trying to offer some sympathy to ease the raging voices inside her mind. "We need it for the war."

     Anastasia froze. She had forgotten about the war she was forced to be a part of. Only this time, she was going to fight against her friends, and they were fighting on the wrong side. The catastrophe that war will wreak on both sides will be devastating. Death will be reaping the souls without any mercy; it was an immortal curse for the divinity of death to see the light fade from mortal's eyes.

     Morpheus turned to her, away from the dark walls of the cave. "You are fighting in the war, correct?"

    Anastasia lifted her eyes from the floor to the god in front of her. Now that he had claimed her, she saw what she had always dreamed of; a tan man with a black mustache that made his blue eyes stand out. She wondered if her mother had fell for this version.

     "Yes," Anastasia straightened, looking anywhere else but his blue eyes. If she made eye contact, he would know everything. All of the daydreams she had of a better life with her. "I am fighting in the war. I'm on your side, aren't I?"

     "And for that, you will be compensated well." A voice interjected before Morpheus could speak. A shadow passed over his face, and his blue eyes seemed darker than usual. Anastasia peeked over his shoulder, spotting Luke leaning against the cave walls with his arms crossed. She felt a dull ache in her heart at the sight of golden eyes, but she ignored it.

"Lord Kronos is right," Morpheus added. Anastasia kept her eyes trained on her old friend smirking at them. "You will be treated well for your contribution to our side of the war." At this, Anastasia's eyes slid to Morpheus's expressionless face.

"Walk with me, Anastasia Nishant." Luke pushed himself off of the wall and made a motion to venture deeper into the tunnel. The tunnels reminded her of the Labyrinth, which reminded her of what she let behind. Who she left behind.

They had gotten out of the Labyrinth through the entrance Anastasia came from. While Luke sent some monsters after the rest of the 4, the others followed Anastasia, barely escaping the collapsing tunnels from Nico's powers. She was half-worried that Luke would send her back to camp to kidnap Nico, forcing her to confront everyone she knew, but fortunately, it hadn't happened. Yet.

Anastasia steeled her mind, inhaling sharply before nodding at him. She took a step forward when Luke held up a hand. She furrowed her brows, looking behind her where Morpheus had taken a step forward to walk with them.

"Not you, Morpheus," Luke's golden eyes twinkled, and he smirked. "Stay here and make yourself...useful."

Morpheus's face was unreadable, but Anastasia could tell, from how his blue eyes grew colder — almost icy — and the slight twitch of his lips, that he was angry. "Of course, my lord." Even his words had a cold edge to it.

"Come, Anastasia." He began walking forward deeper into the tunnel, and Anastasia followed him. Behind them was a telekhine, carrying a long black box, scuttling to catch up with them. Luke didn't give an order for the telekhine to stay put, so Anastasia didn't bring it.

     Anastasia followed Luke blindly through the twisting tunnels before he stopped abruptly. She would've run into his back if it wasn't for the telekhine stopping right in front of her.

     Luke turned to her, a deadly grin plastered across his cold features. This is your friend. This is your friend. This is your — "Anastasia," Luke began, golden eyes, with a glint of malice, scanning her face, as if she had something to hide. When he found none, he continued, "You are a valuable demigod."

     "Thank you?"

     "Yes. Being the only daughter of the god of dreams has its advantages, does it not?" Anastasia didn't like what Luke was insinuating, but she knew better than to snark back at him; it's better to listen than to talk. "Do you know why I brought you here, Anastasia?" She shook her head, which seemed to please Luke. "I brought you here because of your archery skills."

     "What about them?" Anastasia asked, frowning. She resisted the urge to reach into her pocket where her beaded necklace resided. Now was not the time to be thinking about the camp she was going to save.

     "You could be much more deadly if you had the right bow." He glanced at the black box beside him before looking back at her.

     "My bow is just fine, thanks."

     "No." Luke motioned for the telekhine to open the box. "This is better. For you."

     Inside, there was a dark bow, the color of midnight and nightmares, calling for her through its hums. It looked similar to Nico's sword, but somehow, it was different than his. It had an aura of death, and dreamlike wisps coiled around the trembling box, singing her name. The relic of madness lied just beyond reach, and Anastasia felt herself reaching out for the black bow.

     "Go on." Luke gestured for Anastasia to take the bow. "It's yours."

     Anastasia grabbed the bow by the middle, and she instantly felt it. Unlike her heavy Celestial Bronze bow, this bow was perfect for her — weight and height wise. Every fiber of her being vibrated with a frequency that was louder than the voices inside her head. The aura of dreams and nightmares bled into her skin, etching its name over and over again on her marrows.

     "How?" Anastasia breathed, staring at the bow with fascination.

     "You are the great-grandaughter of Nyx, a deity of the Underworld." Luke explained. Anastasia knew that only children of the Underworld were able to use Stygian Iron weapons, but she didn't know that descendants of Underworld deities could also use Stygian Iron weapons.

     "It comes at a cost, however," Luke drawled, drawing Anastasia's eyes away from the bow clutched in her hands. "A small price for the bigger picture."

     "What is it?"

     "The blood of the Trojan Sea Monster."

     ANASTASIA DIDN'T QUESTION Luke.  She knew that, in the grand scheme of things, he was right, and it was best not to question his decisions. After their talk, Anastasia walked out of the cave, avoiding Morpheus's judgmental eyes, and packed her bags, hoping to leave early the next morning.

Before she left, however, Anastasia stopped by one of the tents, comprised of light machinery that clicked and hummed sporadically. It was a daughter of Hephaestus who unmade the Celestial Bronze bow, leaving only the remnants of what used to be her life in the form of beads and a string, and constructed her bow into a ring — delicately holding the Iron so that it wouldn't end her— for Anastasia. She slid it onto her index finger on her right hand.

The sun had barely begun to rise when Anastasia walked out of the cave and into the harsh world that awaited her. She halted for a moment, staring at the dark skies as the wind bit her cheeks. It had been a long time since she had seen the stars, and it had been even longer since she had wished upon them.

"Little dream."

Anastasia closed her eyes, sighing out through her nose. She felt Morpheus's presence beside her, his shadows coiling around her leg. Its wispy-like texture on her leg made her shiver, but she tried to repress it for the immortal deity beside her.

They stood there in silence before Morpheus spoke again. "You should visit Aeolus for whatever mission Lord Kronos gave you."

Anastasia grimaced at the name, shaking her head. "It's Luke, Morpheus." She fell quiet again, opening her eyes to stare at the dark sky. "And why Aeolus?"

"Aeolus knows everything," Morpheus's voice was heavy, weighing with familiar exhaustion. "He has to, considering that he is the Master of the Winds and all."

"Oh." Anastasia nodded, pressing her lips into a thin line. "Thanks."

"I can — "

Anastasia cleared her throat, shouldering her bag filled with supplies, and pointed to the woods. "I'm gonna...just go, 'kay?" If she spent another moment with her father, she wouldn't stop herself blurting out the thoughts that have been plaguing her along with the voices. She couldn't have that. They weren't at that stage yet. And Anastasia didn't know if they could ever reach it.

"I see." Anastasia felt Morpheus back away slightly. "Be car-Make us proud."

Anastasia inhaled sharply, nodding curtly, and stalked off into the woods. She wanted to stop and turn around, but she couldn't look Morpheus in the eyes. Until she did, it was best she kept her distance away from her father.

As she walked on the dirt path that was twisting and turning, Anastasia couldn't help but wonder what life would be like if she hadn't chosen Luke's side. Maybe it was the calmness of the woods or the silent hums of the early morning wind, but Anastasia felt the voices in her mind begin to fade. They were still there, but it had a much more muted effect on her.

     She would be sitting next to Annabeth, probably holding her hand, as they voiced their concerns about the upcoming war in the Big House. Percy would try to be the main character, as usual, and this time, he would succeed. Andromeda would be right next to him, adding her own thoughts every once in a while. Anastasia imagined Grover, back from his personal quest of finding Pan, the Lord of the Wild, talking about how he was given responsibility from the god, and he was going to help them in any way that he can.

Anastasia stopped, a frown tugging her lips downwards. She had to stop thinking about them if she wanted to help them. They were just distractions, Luke had told her once when she asked about it, and Anastasia believed him. He was helping the world, and Luke was her best friend. Sure, his body was being possessed by Kronos or whatever, but there was still some part of Luke inside his mind.

Shaking her head, Anastasia continued on the path, grazing her hand along the path of trees. Up ahead, she spotted a road, with dark splotches smattered across it, and she decided to hitchhike a way to wherever Aeolus was located. She quickened her pace, wanting to get far away from the place that was making her head pound with both familiar and unfamiliar feelings.

     Reaching the road, she looked both ways, her eyes landing on a green sign that says, "Welcome to Colorado!" Anastasia narrowed her eyes, lifting one hand to block her eyes from the harsh sun's glare. She was slightly suspicious of the welcome sign, but if she managed to run into another demigod — one that wasn't from Camp Half-Blood — she could ask them for directions to Aeolus.

     Anastasia sighed, beginning the long trek to the nearest city in Colorado.

     EMITTING FROM THE beast's wide maw came forth a roar that plastered itself onto Anastasia's skin. She stood her ground, Stygian bow at the ready with an arrow notched at the monster with red eyes, and she waited in bated breath for the monster to take another step forward. An arrow she had shot previously was lodged into the monster's thick skin, and Anastasia could see how it was slowly leeching the life out of the gnarled beast. It stepped forward, leaves and small twigs snapping underneath its claw, and crouched low, as if it were going to pounce on her. Anastasia simply readjusted her bow so she could aim the arrow in between its menacing scarlet eyes.

     "Look out!"

Startled, Anastasia's arrow shot awry, making the beast pounce. Anastasia reached for another Stygian arrow in her quiver when the owner of the voice interjected, slashing his sword in a wide arc. The monster let out a pained roar before it is abruptly cut off. It fell to the floor with a loud thud, disrupting the peaceful nature of the woods.

     Anastasia waited for a few seconds, ensuring that the monster was indeed dead, before she turned to the blond individual carrying a navy blue backpack. He was tall, perhaps just a few inches taller than her, and handsome, like he was a regal statue who came to life. On the corner of his lips was a small scar, which Anastasia assumed he got from doing either something very stupid or very brave; one could argue that they were the same thing. He had an athletic build, looking too perfect, which made Anastasia wary of him.

Since the boy — Mr. Perfect, Anastasia decided to call him — was wearing a shirt showing off his tanned arms, she spotted a tattoo on his wrist: an eagle with SPQR and eleven parallel lines underneath it. Anastasia vaguely remembered a story about the tattoo, but the more she tried to remember, the more it disappeared from her.

The boy's electric blue eyes caught her attention next. It almost reminded her of another demigod with blue eyes, but Anastasia shrugged it off, thinking that it wasn't that important. His sky blue eyes made his face seem gentle and kind, but they held a certain sorrow in them that Anastasia could relate to.

"What are you doing here?" the boy asked, brows furrowing. Anastasia noticed how his shoulders tensed slightly after watching his eyes trail down her arms to where her bow was. It seemed as if Mr. Perfect knew what her bow was made out of, and he was readying himself for attack.

"I could ask you the same thing," Anastasia replied, gripping her bow tightly. Just because he saved her from that monster didn't mean that she wouldn't hurt him.

"I don't mean to cause any fight, okay?"

Anastasia narrowed her eyes at him. "Why are you here then?"

"I'm looking for someone who can help find something," Mr. Perfect said, sheathing his sword but keeping his hand close to the hilt of the golden weapon. Judging by the few weapons at Camp Half-Blood's weapon shed, it looked like it was made out of Imperial Gold.

"Who?"

"Aeolus, Master of the Winds." Anastasia raised her brows at the name. What were the odds that both her and Mr. Perfect were looking for the same person? Well, if they were looking for the same person, then they were also searching for the Trojan Sea Monster.

"I'm heading there as well," Anastasia trailed off, her brows knitting together as parts of a half-baked plan came to her. "Tell you what, Mr. Perfect —"

"That's not my name."

"— you lead us to Aeolus, and I'll help you with whatever quest you're on right now." Anastasia raised a brow at Mr. Perfect. "Deal?"

Mr. Perfect frowned his perfect frown. "You don't get anything out of this deal though."

Anastasia shrugged, walking over to where she dropped her backpack. "If my hunch is correct, I'll be getting a lot more than you, bud." As Anastasia slugged her backpack over her shoulder, she gestured to the open woods, a dangerous glint dancing her eyes. "Lead the way?"

Mr. Perfect nodded.

PIKES PEAK, COLORADO was where Aelous was located. At first, Anastasia was wary of following Mr. Perfect up the mountain to a foreign territory, but it was either him or dealing with more monsters on her way to the sea monster without any help. She chose the former.

     They stood at near summit of Pikes Peak, looking below at the world blanketed by whorling, fluffy clouds. It was already nighttime when they reached the summit, but they couldn't stop now. Stretching out to the north and south, peaks of other mountains rose from the clouds, like islands — or rows of teeth. Anastasia didn't want to think about it like that.

When Anastasia looked up, however, she was astounded to see, hovering in the night sky, was a massive free-floating island of glowing purple stone. The sides were rugged cliffs, riddled with caves, and every once in a while a gust of wind burst out with a sound like a pipe organ blast. At the top of the rock, brass walls ringed some kind of a fortress. The only thing connecting Pikes Peak to the floating island was a narrow bridge of ice that glistened in the moonlight. Only it wasn't solid.

The more Anastasia looked at it, the more the bridge snaked around — blurring and thinning. It even broke into a dotted line in some places, and the winds seemed to be manipulating them.

"Ready to cross?" Mr. Perfect quirked a brow at Anastasia.

Anastasia scowled as Mr. Perfect laughed at her expression. "This has to be a violation of natural parks or whatever."

Mr. Perfect grinned, the scar glinting silver in the moonlight. He simply held out a hand for Anastasia to take, and, with a reluctant sigh and begrudging attitude, Anastasia took it. They stepped onto the bridge together, testing the weight of the flimsy bridge before making their way across in complete silence, with the exception of the occasional sniffs from the cold.

When they reached the floating island, Anastasia and Mr. Perfect exchanged a cautious glance with each other before heading up the stone stairway chiseled into the side of the cliff, leading up to the fortress.

"So, Mr. Perfect," Anastasia started as they walked, "where are you from?"

He shot her an unamused look. "Really? That's your question?"

Anastasia raised a hand in defense, but she was sure her face was saying something else. "Hey, I'm trying to keep the conversation light before we dive into our deaths."

Mr. Perfect shook his head, blond hair ruffling a bit. He didn't answer, so Anastasia kept her mouth shut. Occasionally, she would glance at Mr. Perfect, wondering what was going through his head. She didn't recognize him; not from Luke's army or from Camp Half-Blood. And the way he was acting around her made it seem like he didn't know who she was or what she had done. Anastasia didn't know if she liked that or not.

They arrived at the top of the island, stopping for a moment to catch their breaths. As they waited, Anastasia's eyes drank in the architecture of the island. Bronze walls marched all the way around the fortress grounds, glowing underneath the moonlight. Twenty-foot-high gates opened up for them, and a road of polished purple stone led up to the main citadel — a white-columned rotunda, in a Greek style.

The rotunda sat in the center of a quarter-mile circle. The grounds were amazing in a scary way. They were divided into four sections like big pizza slices, each one representing a season.

The section on their right was an icy waste, with bare trees and a frozen lake. Snowmen rolled across the landscape as the wind blew. Anastasia could see the frosty air coiling and weaving around the snowmen and the trees. This was Boreas's, God of the North Wind and Winter, section, Anastasia mused with a shiver.

To their left was an autumn park with gold and red trees. Mounds of leaves blew into patterns—gods, people, animals that ran after each other before scattering back into leaves. Anastasia guessed that this was Eurus's, God of the East Wind and Autumn, section.

Anastasia could see two more areas behind the rotunda in the distance. One looked like a green pasture with sheep made out of clouds, which definitely screamed Zephyros, God of the West Wind and Spring. The last section was a barren desert where tumbleweeds scratched Greek-like letters, smiley faces, and a huge advertisement that Anastasia couldn't read so well in the sand; this was, if Anastasia had to guess, was Notus's section, God of the South Wind and Summer.

"One section for each of the four gods," Mr. Perfect said, glancing down at Anastasia.

"Four cardinal directions." Anastasia finished, still looking at the palace with awe. "Let's go."

Anastasia and Mr. Perfect walked down the purple road to the steps of the palace. They passed through the front doors into a white marble foyer decorated with purple banners. Anastasia assumed that the Master of the Winds liked purple, judging from his road and his banners.

They pushed past some security doors into another lobby. As soon as they entered, Anastasia felt heavy winds blasting around them, which made her feel like she was pushing against a crowd of invisible people. Doors blew open and slammed by themselves, and a plethora of weird sights passed Anastasia.

Paper airplanes of all different sizes and shapes sped around, and wind nymphs, aurai, would occasionally pluck them out of the air, unfold and read them, then toss them back into the air, where the planes would refold themselves and keep flying.

A harpy fluttered past. She looked like a mix between an old lady and a chicken on steroids. She had a wrinkled face with black hair tied in a hairnet, arms like a human plus wings like a chicken, and a fat, feathered body with talons for feet. Anastasia didn't know harpies could fly; she assumed they were hovering because of the winds. She kept drifting around and bumping into things like a parade balloon. The sight of her made Anastasia remember the night harpies at Camp Half-Blood, and her heart clenched.

"What is that?" Mr. Perfect nodded to the creature hobbling past them.

Anastasia turned to Mr. Perfect, shocked that he hadn't seen a harpy before. "That's a harpy. You-you've never seen a harpy before?"

Mr. Perfect hesitated before shaking his head. "Uh no...they're not as common in the place where I'm from." His blue eyes darkened, making his face even sadder. For a moment, Anastasia felt bad for asking that question. "Let's go."

Mr. Perfect walked through a set of doors like an airlock, so Anastasia had no choice but to follow. Above the interior door, a green light blinked. Anastasia and Mr. Perfect exchanged a glance before pushing the doors open.

     Anastasia gaped at the inside. The central section of Aeolus's fortress was as big as a cathedral, with a soaring domed root covered in silver. Television equipment floated randomly through the air-cameras, spotlights, set pieces, and potted plants. The only downside to the architecture inside was that there was no floor. An enormous circular pit plunged into the heart of the mountain about half a mile deep, honeycombed with dark caves. Some of them, Anastasia guessed, led straight outside Pikes Peak. Other caves were sealed with some glistening material like glass or wax. The whole cavern bustled with harpies, aurai, and paper airplanes.

     "Can you fly, Mr. Perfect?" Anastasia asked, raising a brow at the blonde beside her.

     "That's not my name, and yes," Mr. Perfect sighed, pulling Anastasia close with one arm and jumping. Anastasia screwed her eyes shut, feeling the wind wrap around them, bringing them to the other side. When they landed, Anastasia let out a breath of relief, feeling solid floor underneath her again. She opened her eyes and stepped away from Mr. Perfect's hold on her.

     They walked toward the middle of the chamber, where a loose sphere of flat-panel video screens floated around a kind of control center. A man hovered inside, checking monitors and reading paper airplane messages, chucking sporadically. Floating beside him was a beautiful sky nymph, who looked eerily similar to a ghost, with a white tablet. She had pointed ears, which were covered by her light hair that blew chaotically around her because of the winds.

     She walked into the control area, not waiting for Mr. Perfect to follow. It was until a few seconds later that she heard his heavy footsteps behind her. Anastasia looked at the floating screens, displaying all sorts of television programs. Some programs looked like gladiators fighting or demigods battling monsters. Other programs were news broadcasts, and Anastasia noticed something strange in one of them: a familiar image of a smoldering volcano – Mount St. Helens. She flinched when the side of the mountain exploded; fire, lava, and ash rolled out. A newscaster's voice was saying, "—even larger than last year's eruption, and geologists warn that the mountain may not be done."

     Anastasia knew all about the eruption last year. Percy Jackson had caused it after she had been taken by her father to pledge her allegiance to Luke and his cause. This explosion, however, was much worse; the mountain tore itself apart, collapsing inward, and an enormous form rose out of the smoke and lava. Typhon, the monster that Luke asked to help them with their cause. Anastasia hadn't had the pleasure of meeting him yet, but some part of her wanted to end the monster – stop it before it was too late. She shoved that part of herself down as she watched the mountain shake with a horrible rumbling.

     When the screen flickered, she looked away, focusing on the man in the center who was talking into an earpiece phone. He had a remote control in each hand and was pointing them at various screens, seemingly at random. He also wore a business suit that looked like the sky — blue mostly, but dappled with clouds that changed and darkened and moved across the fabric. He looked like he was in his sixties, with a shock of white hair, but he had a ton of stage makeup on, and that smooth plastic-surgery look to his face, so he appeared not really young, not really old, just wrong — like a Ken doll someone had halfway melted in a microwave. His eyes darted back and forth from screen to screen, like he was trying to absorb everything at once. He muttered things into his phone, and his mouth kept twitching. He was either amused, or crazy, or both.

     The nymph beside him noticed them first. Anastasia raised her hand in an awkward greeting. She gasped, blushing profusely. "Um, sir, Mr. Aeolus...there are...um demigods here to meet with you." She paused, her face turning red, before she squeaked. "Meet with you, sir."

     Aeolus held up a hand, silencing her, and pointed at one of the screens. "Watch!" It was one of those viral fails about animals being blown away, and Anastasia rolled her eyes. Of course an immortal being would find this funny. Aeolus laughed, turning to them with a mad glint in his eyes. "Those never fail to make me laugh. Let's watch it again!"

     "Um, sir," the nymph said, "these demigods –"

     "Hm?" Aeolus looked up from the screen below him. "Oh yes. Demigods." Anastasia didn't know whether to feel offended by his disgusted tone or agree with him. "I suppose you want aid for your quest."

Mr. Perfect nodded. "Yes sir. We-I'm looking for the Trojan Sea Monster." Anastasia knew it, but she chose to let him speak. Judging by his calm voice and tense stance, she suspected that he was used to speaking like this to a mad man.

"Oh! I know –" the nymph beside him blurted out, her eyes lighting up. Anastasia and Mr. Perfect turned to her, but Aeolus interjected.

"Nellie, don't interrupt." The light in Nellie's eyes faded away. "I have half a mind to fire you for not telling me about this unofficial appointment." Aeolus looked at Anastasia, raising a brow at her, and she recoiled away, finding his stare unnerving. "So tell me, Anastasia Nishant, what are you doing so far away from home?"

"I..." Anastasia didn't think she was ready to answer such a personal question. She didn't think she was ever going to be ready to answer that question. Not when she didn't know where her home was. It wasn't at Camp Half-Blood. She didn't feel it with Luke, but maybe these things take time. Anastasia shook her head. "Look, will you help us or not?"

Aeolus's face suddenly darkened, and his suit did the same, the lapels flashing with lightning. "So you're just here for help? Like every demigod before you?"

"Sir, please –" Nellie tried to interrupt.

"Nellie, you're fired."

"Bu-but sir, I just got here." But Aeolus didn't care, waving her away. Anastasia watched Nellie float away, bursting into tears. Her sobs echoed through the tunnels, and she widened her eyes.

"Now, where were we?" Aeolus thought for a moment before snapping his fingers. With his shifting moods, Anastasia believed that she would get a whiplash. "Ah yes! The Trojan Sea Monster. Fortunately for you, I know where that is: Lake Superior, one of the five great lakes of America."

"Thank you, sir." Mr. Perfect nodded, and he took a step back. Aeolus turned his back to them, ordering through his earpiece to bring in his next assistant. Mr. Perfect turned to Anastasia, nodding to the side to get out of the floating island before Aeolus could change his mind.

"Wait," Anastasia rested a hand on his shoulder. She spotted an aura carrying a makeup set and waved her over to them. "Excuse me, could we stay the night? I promise we'll be gone by dawn the next morning."

"Of course! Follow me!"

As the wind nymph led the way through one of the many tunnels, Mr. Perfect leaned closer to Anastasia. "What are you doing? We have to leave now."

"We can leave early the next morning," Anastasia whispered back, rolling her eyes. "We need a break to gather our thoughts. Now, shut up."

     IT WAS DAWN when Anastasia and Mr. Perfect left Aeolus's fortress. The crepuscular haze of cerise and magenta skies made way for the sun to rise; in its casual elegance, the stars sighed in unison, fading away from the skies so the brightest can come forth. With every ray illuminating the mountain peak, it looked like golden honey was dripping down the sides of the mountain, pooling at the summit, coating Anastasia with its warm essence. The slight coos of animals beginning to wake were heard as she ventured down the mountain, far away from the fortress. The birds had begun to sing, chirping their preferred songs, which made Anastasia want to rip out her ears.

     Fortunately, they didn't need to find a ride that would take them to Lake Superior. Aeolus, the helpful immortal that he was, provided a chariot with some of his winds that would take them to their destination. They would arrive to the lake by midday, and it would give Mr. Perfect and Anastasia a chance to talk.

     They clambered into the bronze chariot, slinging their backpacks around to rest their backs against the opposite sides on the floor of the moving vehicle. Before Anastasia got comfortable in her spot, the chariot lurched forward, and Anastasia flew into one of the sides, banging her arm. She scowled, rubbing her arm when she steadied herself, muttering curses at Aeolus and his winds. What she didn't expect to hear was Mr. Perfect laughter; it was soothing, low chuckles that rumbled throughout his chest, shoulder shaking from his giddiness. The sound was so infectious that Anastasia couldn't help but laugh along with him. Maybe it was the thin air that was still making her delirious, but she was sure she had never laughed this hard in her life. Well, maybe except for when she was with her.

     That thought sobered Anastasia quickly. It had been two days since she had actually thought about her, and Anastasia didn't know if she should be glad that she didn't have a crush on her opposition or worried that she was losing some part of herself. Her grin fell, and she pulled her knees to her chest, looping her arms around them. She stared at the sky, blue now, and wondered if the girl that has been in her mind for so long was thinking about her as well. Anastasia hoped she was, but she still remembered the betrayed look on her face when Anastasia pulled away from her. Was she wrong in joining Luke?

     No. She wasn't wrong. She was helping the world. She was saving them from themselves. She was healing the world, bit by bit, just like her father said. Anastasia was right in joining Luke, so she doesn't have anything to feel guilty about.

     "So, who are you exactly?" Mr. Perfect asked, probably noticing her prolonged silence. "And from what Aeolus said, you're far from home?"

     She raised her hand to mock a greeting. "Anastasia. Demigod daughter of dreams." Then Anastasia managed a bitter chuckle. "And yeah, you could say that I'm away from home."She cleared her throat, looking into the sad blue eyes of Mr. Perfect. "What about you? Aren't you 'far from home'?"

     Mr. Perfect let out a low chuckle, smiling sadly, the scar on his upper lip twitching slightly. "Well, what is home, and how can one be too far away from it?"

     Anastasia laughed quietly. "Touche, my friend." Her smile faded, and Anastasia looked out at the moving view outside the chariot. "Do you ever – I don't really know, um – do you ever feel like where you are isn't where you belong?" She looked at Mr. Perfect, making an imploring look at him.

     "Yeah, sometimes," Mr. Perfect replied after a moment's hesitation. "Don't get me wrong. I love where I am, but I feel like people only respect me because I'm someone's son. Not because of me – the real me." He frowned. "I'm expected to be perfect. To be obedient. To be the perfect soldier and follow the rules. I have to make my father proud, but he barely recognizes me."

     "I get what you mean." And she did. Anastasia understood what it was like to try to get the gods to notice her, but they never did. They didn't notice any of the unclaimed and the claimed. They only focused on the ones that were deemed "special," but when special comes to ordinary, they move onto their next experiment. In their need to shelter a plant, they fail to see the forest burning.

     "What about you, Anastasia?" Mr. Perfect tilted his head to the side, furrowing his brows as he stared at Anastasia.

     She shrugged, pulling her legs closer when the cold breeze hit her. "I don't know. I thought it was in the place I grew up, or with my oldest friends. It just feels like...I'm making a mistake, and I don't know what it's like yet." Anastasia frowned. "I tried playing the ordinary role and the hero act, but it didn't work for me. I just feel like a fraud for trying to be something I'm not."

     "Do you know who you are then?"

     Anastasia hesitated, mulling over his question. "I don't think I do." She glanced at the perfect boy in front of her. "Do you?"

"Everybody keeps telling me who I am," Mr. Perfect tilted his head back to stare at the sky. The blue skies matched his electric blue eyes. "They tell me I'm supposed to be this brave, strong leader, just like my father. They placed me on this pedestal, treating me like some sort of prince, even though I haven't done anything special." He let out a forced chuckle. "After this quest, I'm going to be praised for doing something that should be shared equally."

"You can't escape destiny, no matter how hard you try," Anastasia muttered, smiling sadly at the boy in front of her. "Believe me. If I could, I would. It's like being caught in a web of truth and lies, but when you see the same string for the hundredth time, you forget if you're tied up in lies or truths."

Anastasia and Mr. Perfect were silent for a moment before Anastasia snorted. "Sorry. That was depressing."

"I started it, so leave some of the blame for me too." Mr. Perfect shrugged. "Besides, we're a team now."

"Yeah," Anastasia felt her heart skip a beat as she grinned widely. "You go down, I go down."

"I go down, you go down." Mr. Perfect replicated her grin.

     The chariot halted to a stop. Anastasia peaked her head out of the chariot, expecting a loud roar of a monster or the vicious face of a snarling beast to emerge from the water. Nothing like that happened. It was...calm. Too calm. Anastasia and Mr. Perfect exchanged a wary glance before getting out of the chariot with their bags. Just as Mr. Perfect jumped down, the chariot zipped away.

     "Thanks for the ride, I guess," Anastasia mumbled, but Mr. Perfect wasn't listening. She turned to him, a question probing at her mind when she saw him staring off into the distance with a dazed look. "Hey, are you okay?"

     That seemed to snap him out of it. "Yeah. I just...I thought I remembered being here with someone." He shook his head. "Doesn't matter now. We need to find the sea monster and – uh, Anastasia, what are you looking at?" She didn't answer him, and rather pointed to the lake where a massive tail spiked out, terrorizing the forest and the small town around it.

     They found the Trojan Sea Monster.

     Anastasia stiffened, remembering that she needed to fulfill one of Luke's wishes of bringing back the blood of the sea monster. That confused her. Why would he need the blood of the sea monster? She shook her head; Anastasia could worry about that after they had defeated the sea monster.

     "Let's do this." Together, as one, they charged to the roaring sea monster.

     Mr. Perfect used the winds to launch himself into the sky while she called upon the Oneiroi. It screeched as it lowered its head so she can get on its back. It flapped its wings once before shooting into the air, spiraling to where Mr. Perfect had drawn his lance. (Anastasia thought he had a sword?) She pulled off the ring on her pointer finger on her right hand, letting it morph into a bow. She was still surprised at how right it was to hold the Stygian bow. Anastasia notched an arrow and aimed for the sea monster.

     Unfortunately for them, the sea monster took notice of them. It screeched, diving back into the waters where it disappeared. Anastasia and Mr. Perfect glanced at each other before they heard the sea monster come crashing out of the water behind them. Anastasia turned, shooting an arrow at the monster, but it only grazed its side. She scowled, urging the Oneiroi forward.

     Mr. Perfect ducked when the monster tried to swat at him with its tail, and he jabbed his lance into its side. It was like it was made of leather scales, unable to be killed. It roared, however, as it swam closer to where Mr. Perfect was flying. It lurched forward, snapping its sharp teeth at him. He narrowly escaped it.

     Anastasia ducked when its scaly tail flicked out of the water to strike at her, and she shot two more arrows, aimed for its eyes instead. One of the Stygian arrows missed its mark, lodging itself into a nearby tree, but the other found its mark into its murky green eyes. It let out a wail, falling into the lake. In that area, the blue waters turned black. When it rose again, it snarled at her, moving its snake-like body to where she was. Instead of using its tail again, the sea monster shot out of the water with its maw wide open. Anastasia moved away quickly, but one of the teeth slashed her arm, making her almost drop her bow. Anastasia bit back a groan, clutching her bleeding arm. The smell of blood and sweat made her gag.

     "You okay?" Mr. Perfect shouted, stabbing the monster into its fin. Luckily for him, it managed to pierce through.

     Anastasia grimaced. "Peachy, in fact." She glared at the sea monster which had gone underneath the waters, biding its time before it could go to town on her and her friend. "How do you even kill this bitch? Its skin is impenetrable."

     Mr. Perfect rose to her height. "There's this story about what Hercules did."

     "Ugh. Him." Anastasia rolled her eyes and Mr. Perfect chuckled.

     "Yeah, I'm not too fond of my half-brother either."

     Wait, what?

     Anastasia ignored that, frowning instead at the black shadow moving inside the lake. "If you can't kill it from the outside..."

     "Then you kill it from the inside!" Mr. Perfect finished, grinning at Anastasia. "You open its mouth so I can go inside."

     Anastasia nodded, and when the monster rose from the waters, they dived to greet it with their weapons. Anastasia made sure to keep the monster's focus occupied on her while Mr. Perfect hovered close nearby. She shot arrow after arrow at the beast as the Oneiroi swerved and ducked underneath and over the monster. She shoved back an arrow into her quiver, holding the Oneiroi with her bow hand as she thrusted her other hand to the monster. Using all of her strength, she pictured being in the monster's mind and forced a dream to play in real time. It swirled and danced in its mind, presenting the illusion that she was much closer to the monster. The gullible monster, falling for her trap, opened its mouth, and Mr. Perfect swooped in, spearing its insides and coming out from its back.

     The sea monster thrashed and screeched, falling into the lake repeatedly until it floated motionless on top.

     "Hey!" Mr. Perfect called from the monster's back. "I'm going to check the town. Make sure nobody's hurt!" Anastasia gave him a thumbs up in response and watched him fly away.

     As soon as his back was turned, Anastasia swooped down to the still Trojan Sea Monster. Reaching into her backpack, she grabbed a vial and held it next to its bleeding body. Black blood oozed into the small vial until it reached the tip where she corked it. Just as she did that, the body disintegrated, its ashes traveling with the wind. Anastasia pulled away from the ashes, stuffing the vial into her bag, and she flew to the ground where she jumped off. Pressing a sweet kiss to her helper, she watched it disappear into the dark. She reached into her pack, grabbing the bag of ambrosia and eating a square.

     "Lucky for us, nobody was hurt. The Mist is making it seem like a small fire." Mr. Perfect said, coming closer to Anastasia as she finished the square to look out to the lake. He held up one of the Trojan Sea Monster's fins like it was a trophy. "Spoils."

     Anastasia grinned. "Nice." She paused for a moment, wondering what way was the best way to ask him the question that was burning inside her mind. "Hey, uh, what does the blood of the Trojan Sea Monster do?"

     Mr. Perfect furrowed his brows, thinking for a moment. "It helps heal the process when you dip into the River Styx, where Thetis dipped her son Achilles so that he could be almost invisible. Why?"

     "No reason." Anastasia shook her head, but her mind was racing. What was Luke going to do? "Just curious."

     They stood there in comfortable silence before Mr. Perfect broke it. "Anyways, now that this quest is complete, I have to go back to my place."

     "Yeah. Me too."

     Mr. Perfect hesitated before adding, "Remember when we talked about homes?" Anastasia nodded, curious to where he was going with this. "If at any time you are in need of one, you can always send me a dream message or something and come to where I am. My home is yours, my friend."

     Anastasia's grin softened. "I would say the same if I could. Thanks."

     "You go down, I go down." Mr. Perfect smiled his perfect smile before gesturing that he had to go.

     Anastasia let him walk closer to the woods when she realized she didn't even know his name. "Hey! What's your name, Mr. Perfect?"

     He turned around, a bright smile lighting up his once sad face. "Jason."

     UNDER THE GUISE of night, Anastasia carefully unlocked the window to the apartment. She ducked her head inside, looking both ways to see if a demigod she betrayed would pop out of nowhere and behead her. (She's been having violent thoughts recently). When no demigod appeared, Anastasia wriggled inside the apartment, nearly knocking over a potted moon lace. She scrambled to the edge to catch the rare flower, sighing in relief when she did. She placed it gingerly back onto the windowsill before standing up.

      Anastasia bit her lip, dreading the reaction she was going to get from the woman who treated Anastasia like her own. She rested her hand to the doorknob, steadying her nerves before opening the door completely, letting light flood into the dark room. She padded over to the kitchen, where she heard laughter coming from. It was the mix of a man and a woman, and she cursed.

     She let out a final breath before stepping into the light, making her presence known. Sally Jackson-Blofis and Paul Blofis immediately stop their chat to look at her. Anastasia hated the apprehensive look in Sally's eyes.

     "Hey," Anastasia awkwardly waved. "Anastasia here. How are you all?"

     Paul furrowed his brows, straightening from where he was leaning on the island of the kitchen. "You're one of Percy's friends, right?"

     Anastasia winced. "Um, not-not anymore. We, uh...I-it doesn't matter." She shook her head, reaching into her pocket to pull out a half-filled vial of the Trojan Sea Monster blood. She held it out for Sally to take. "This is for Percy." As if reading Sally's doubts, Anastasia hurried to explain.

     "It's not poison, so no need to worry about that. Here, why don't I..." She uncorked the vial, letting a small drop of the monster's blood onto her palm before licking it up. Anastasia corked the vial and gestured to herself before violently gagging. She coughed harshly, leaning onto one of the cabinets for support. Sally passed her a glass of water, and Anastasia nodded her thanks before chugging it down. After a few moments, she shivered, sniffling. "Yeah that was gross."

     "Why does Percy need that?" Sally asked, still hesitant to take the vial. Not that Anastasia blamed her.

     "Well, in a few days or tomorrow even, he might come here asking for your blessing to bathe in the River Styx." Anastasia cleared her throat, but she still leaned on the cabinet. "It's the only way for him to survive against...well, everything. Since he's the son of the Big Three, monsters want him d-e-a-d."

     "And what would bathing in the River Styx do exactly?" Paul asked, weirdly calm in all of this.

     "Make one almost invincible." Anastasia answered. She glanced at Sally. "Look, I don't want Percy to die. I don't want any of them to die. But I have this feeling where if Percy could survive 5 years of insanity, then he could survive this war."

     Sally took the half-filled vial, looking at it with skepticism. She glanced back up at her, reassurance and comfort written across her features. "And so will you, Anastasia."

     Anastasia smiled sadly. "I don't know if I'm going to make it out alive."

     At last, the voices inside her head were silent.

hell yeah i made the king jason grace appear!!! they are so brotp...can't wait for hoo hehehe

Also thank you so much for the 2k!!! love you <333