one day, i hope
i can come back
and say hello to the
one i love
the most.

•❅───✧❅ NINE ❅✧───❅•

ANASTASIA NISHANT WEPT. She dropped to her knees, sobbing silently for the friend who lied to her. Who protected her. Who betrayed her. Who was her first friend in the place of outcasts. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks, and Anastasia felt as if everything she had believed in was false — a mirage that she had trusted in the midst of the battle heat.

"It is done." One the Fates crowed, holding up a snippet of blue yarn. Luke's life thread, Anastasia realized with a shudder.

     Colette stumbled over to the dead body of Luke. Although she was bleeding from her temple and specks of green and purple littered her body, Apollo's daughter stood still as she stared down at who she once believed as a brother. Her jaw clenched, the axe in her hand dripping with golden ichor.

     She was quiet for a moment. "He deserved to die. He betrayed my trust." Her voice was so quiet, it made the flickering flame sound louder. Sunny turned her back on Luke, and although Anastasia had fought him and saw his death, the action still made her blood boil. "But he was my brother, and even if I hate him, I can't help but love him."

     Colette walked away just as the three ghoulish grandmothers, makers and destroyers of lives, with their bags of knitting needles and yarn, gathered up Luke's body, now wrapped in a white-and-green shroud, and began carrying it out of the throne room. Anastasia wanted to reach out to Luke, but she held herself back, clenching her fists in her lap when she noticed Hermes in the entrance.

"Wait." The messenger god, dressed in his classic out of white Greek robes, sandals, and helmets, walked slowly to the Fates. The wings on his helm fluttered. The snakes curled around his caduceus kept muttering, Luke, poor Luke. Their hisses of his name made Anastasia rise to her feet, wincing when it reached her ears.

Hermes unwrapped Luke's face and kissed his forehead. Anastasia thought she could see guilt and shame swirling in his immortal eyes, and a part of her liked the god in this state. At least now he noticed his son. Another part of her wanted to look away from the intimate moment. She imagined what it would be like if her father watched her die at a young age, knowing that he couldn't change or interfere with her destiny.

"Farewell, son," he whispered, along with some words in Ancient Greek — a final blessing. Then, he nodded and allowed the Fates to carry away his child's body.

Anastasia watched them until they disappeared beyond the Olympus doors. She stayed in that spot for a long time, staring at the white doors that seemed to resemble everything besides peace and harmony.

How could something that should've been good become something so corrupted and twisted?

Next to her, Annabeth's knees buckled. Anastasia's eyes widened, and she went to catch her, but Percy got there first. Annabeth cried out in pain, her cries striking at Anastasia's heart, and she realized Percy had accidentally grabbed Annabeth's broken arm.

"Oh, gods," Percy whispered, shuffling them around to hold Annabeth better. The moment made Anastasia's breath hitch, and she took a step back from the group of friends she'd abandoned. "Annabeth, I'm sorry."

"It's all right," Annabeth smiled up at him softly before passing out in Percy's arms.

"She needs help!" Percy yelled, looking up at the gods who'd begun to patch Olympus up as best as they could. Anastasia tried not to let it bother her when Percy didn't motion her forward to help Annabeth.

"I've got this." Apollo stepped forward. His fiery armor was so bright it made Anastasia blink a couple times, and his matching Ray-Bans and perfect smile made him look like a male model for battle gear. "God of medicine, at your service." He passed his hand over Annabeth's face and spoke an incantation. Immediately the bruises faded. Her cuts and scars disappeared. Her arm straightened, and she sighed in her sleep. Anastasia nearly smiled at the sight.

Apollo grinned. "She'll be fine in a few minutes. Just enough time for me to compose a poem about our victory: Apollo and his friends save Olympus. Good, eh?"

"Thanks, Apollo," Percy mumbled awkwardly. "I'll, um, let you handle the poetry."

Anastasia tore her eyes away from the sight of Apollo, Percy, and Annabeth. She backed away from the three of them, her eyes lingering on Annabeth's passed out form before she turned her back on them.

The next few hours became a blur for Anastasia. She stood next to the hearth, and while she was vaguely sure Hestia was watching her, Anastasia couldn't bring herself to care. Chewing on an ambrosia square, she looked around the throne room, noticing how everyone, even the gods, was with their family and friends. And here she stood: alone as she always was.

She watched the twelve Olympians repair the throne room, which went surprisingly fast. Anastasia watched Percy and Grover tend to the wounded, and when she heard that the sky bridge re-formed, she had never seen Percy get up from the floor so fast. He ran to the doors, but a force pushed him away, sending him tumbling down to the ground once more.

In his arms was Andromeda Windsor.

They stayed there for a moment, crying on each other's shoulders. Anastasia watched Percy pull away, cupping her cheeks and drawing her forward until their foreheads touched. It was beautifully intimate, but all Anastasia could think about was how Annabeth used to look at her like that.

Thalia was okay, despite being on crutches. Connor and Travis Stoll only had few minor injuries, but they were too busy being relieved that the battle was finally over; they talked to Percy, whose arm was still around Andromeda, and whatever they were saying made him look a lot calmer.

Nico di Angelo walked through the pristine doors of Olympus, a scowl on his face, only to be met with a hero's welcome, his father and step-mother right behind him, despite the common truth that they were only supposed to visit Olympus on the winter solstices. The god of the dead looked stunned when his relatives clapped him on the back. Persephone was pulled into hugs by her mother and Aphrodite. Anastasia would've smiled at the sight if she wasn't already feeling horrible.

Clarisse marched in next, shivering, and Anastasia stood up straighter at the sight of her. They hadn't had the time to talk, not after what she did to her last year and when Selena died. Colette saw her from where she was talking to her father, and she ran straight into her lover's arms. They both stood there, trembling but together.

Ares bellowed, "There's my girl!" The god of war ruffled her hair and pounded her on the back once the lovers had pulled away, calling Clarisse the best warrior he'd ever seen. "That drakon-slaying? That's what I'm talking about!" Anastasia saw how Clarisse looked overwhelmed, nodding and blinking, like she was afraid he'd start hitting her, but eventually, she began to smile. Colette scowled at the God of War, but when she looked at Clarisse, it faded into a love struck daze.

Then Clarisse's eyes met Anastasia's. Gods, there were so many things that Anastasia wanted to say to her. She wanted to imagine that they were kids again, competing against and with each other, calling each other goofy names like Longshot or Spearhead; but that's all it was: daydreams. Clarisse's words still replayed over and over inside her mind.

     So Anastasia looked away first.

     "It's alright, you know," Hestia murmured from the warm flames, "to make mistakes."

     Anastasia shook her head, biting her lip to keep her sadness down. "Not like this, Hestia. Not when you've fucked up bonds between lifelong friends. Not when you've probably fucked up having an authentic relationship with someone who understands you." She exhaled. "And it's not a mistake if you don't accept it as one."

     She walked away from the heat, from the one place that offered her comfort, and she stood next to the cold, white wall. Anastasia stayed there for a while, watching the doors for any sign of her father or something that would pull her away from this place. But nothing came up, other than the few demigods who stumbled in, asking for Grover's, Percy's, or Andromeda's help.

     While Percy and Grover were having one of their "bro-talks," while Andromeda was helping the campers, the conch horns blew. The army of Poseidon marched into the throne room, smelling like the ocean and...peanut butter?

     "Percy!" Tyson yelled, and Anastasia spotted him morphing into a normal size. He charged toward Percy with his arms open, scooping him up. Anastasia watched Percy chuckle, but he hugged back with the same fervor. "You are not dead!"

     "Yeah!" Percy laughed, agreeing with his brother. "Amazing, huh?"

     Tyson clapped his hands and laughed happily. "I am not dead either. Yay! We chained Typhon. It was fun!"

     Behind him, fifty other armored Cyclopes laughed and nodded and gave each other high fives.

     "Tyson led us," one rumbled. "He is brave!"

     "Bravest of the Cyclopes!" another bellowed.

     Tyson blushed. "Was nothing."

     "I saw you!" Percy punched his little brother's shoulder, although Anastasia suspected it did little damage to the Cyclops. "You were incredible!"

     "Yes." Grover said, nodding frightfully. "Um...three cheers for Tyson!"

     "Yaaarrrrr!" the Cyclops roared.

     The conch horns blasted again, and the white doors were pulled apart once again. The Cyclops parted, and Poseidon, still decked out in his battle armor, his trident glowing in his hands, strode in. He embraced his sons, patting them on the back, like they had won a baseball cup rather than a war.

     The sight made Anastasia feel sick to her stomach.

     "Are you well, little dream?" The soothing voice of her father was making Anastasia tear up. She turned around quickly, wrapping her arms around her father before this moment could leave them both. She could tell that the hug was shocking for Morpheus, considering the last time they had seen each other was when he switched sides, along with Hecate, to fight against Kronos's army from following them to Olympus.

     "Oh, little dream," Morpheus sighed, pulling her closer, if that was even possible. He cradled her head against his chest, and Anastasia found a little solace in the coldness of his dark coat. The dreams fluttered gently around them, and it felt like they were the only two people in the world in that moment. "My brave girl."

     Anastasia swallowed harshly, screwing her eyes shut. "What have I done, dad?" She let out a shaky exhale. "What have I done?"

     Morpheus pulled away slight, cupping Anastasia's cheek, and he gently forced her to look into his blue eyes. "My little dream, what is done cannot be undone. You must remember that." His thumb caressed the apple of Anastasia's cheek. "The future will not be kind to you, not after these past few days."

     "Then what do I do?" Anastasia wanted to lean into her father's hand on her cheek, but she resisted that urge. "How can I fix this?"

Morpheus sighed. "You can't, my little dream. You can't fix something that you broke."

     If the world hadn't been collapsing before, it sure was now. It felt as if all the power that held Anastasia's soul and sanity by the seams left her. The breath that she'd been holding, eagerly awaiting her father's wise solution to the issue at hand — as if the divinity laced in those words would seep into her blood and engrave its mark on her bones — left her. In the haunting silence, Anastasia realized what she had seen and done.

     In her desire to build a home, Anastasia had burned her only safe place — Camp Half-Blood.

     Anastasia pulled away from her father, brushing off his cold hands trying to provide warmth. Vaguely hearing Zeus's roar for Poseidon, Anastasia turned away from her father, facing the tyrannical twelve Olympians who had taken their rightful place on their thrones. Even Hades and Persephone were sitting beside them, sitting on a simple stone guest chair at the foot of the hearth. Nico sat cross-legged on the ground at Hades's feet.

     Another person that Anastasia had screwed over. Bianca had asked her to take care of Nico, saying that she understood, but did she? Anastasia left him in the Labyrinth, and again when he and his father emerged from the Underworld with all of death to fight against the Titan army.

She was no hero.

Not like Percy Jackson, the chosen one, the son of the eldest gods, the loyal demigod.

Not like Andromeda Windsor, the powerful witch, the commander of dead, the selfless demigod.

Not like Grover and Tyson, the kind-hearted creatures that rose up to protect innocents against evil.

     Not like Colette Victoire.

Not like Ethan Nakamura, Selena Beauregard, Micheal Yew.

Not like Nathan Dunken.

Not like all the demigods who lost their lives in this battle and the last.

Not like all of the demigods that lived, forced to witness the bloodshed she caused.

Not like Annabeth Chase.

Anastasia Nishant was no hero.

     The sound of laughter broke Anastasia's train of thought. She glanced to her side, frowning at the sight of Andromeda, Percy, Grover, and Annabeth standing together. Like they were one big happy family. Anastasia remembered Percy's offer to show them downtown New York from last year, and a part of her wondered that if she hadn't betrayed them, maybe she would be part of that tight-knit group.

"As for my brothers," Zeus began, looking mildly uncomfortable, "we are thankful" — he cleared his throat like the words were hard to get out — "erm...thankful for the aid of Hades."

The lord of the dead nodded, a smug look present on his face. Persephone beamed at him, holding her husband's hand. Hades patted Nico on the shoulders, and Nico beamed at the attention. Was that how Anastasia looked like when her father patted her on the back for another day of harming her friends?

"And, of course," Zeus continued, "we must...um...thank Poseidon."

"I'm sorry, brother," Poseidon scratched his ear, tilting his head closer to Zeus so that he could 'hear' better. "What was that?"

"We must thank Poseidon," Zeus growled, glaring at his brother. "Without whom...it would've been difficult —"

"Difficult?" Poseidon asked innocently, but his sea green eyes revealed his amusement.

"Impossible," Zeus spat. "Impossible to defeat Typhon." The gods murmured their agreement and pounded their weapons in approval. "Which leaves us only the matter of thanking our young demigod heroes, who defended Olympus so well — even if there are a few dents in my throne." Anastasia clenched her fist, but she said nothing to oppose the king of the gods.

Zeus called Thalia forward first, since she was his daughter, and he promised her help in filling the Hunters's ranks. Anastasia assumed that, with his centuries of experience of finding women, the Hunters' ranks would be filled in no time.

Artemis smiled. "You have done well, my lieutenant. You have made me proud, and all those Hunters who perished in my service will never be forgotten. They will achieve Elysium, I am sure." She glared pointedly at Hades.

He shrugged. "Probably." After Artemis glared at him some more, he grumbled, "Alright. I'll streamline their application process."

Thalia beamed with pride. "Thank you, my lady." She bowed to the gods, even Hades, and then limped over to stand by Artemis's side.

"Tyson, son of Poseidon!" Zeus called next. The kind Cyclops looked nervous, but he went to stand in the middle of the council, and Zeus grunted.

"Doesn't miss many meals, does he?" Anastasia scowled at Zeus. "Tyson, for your bravery in the war, and for leading the Cyclops, you are appointed a general in the armies of Olympus. You shall henceforth lead your brethren into war whenever required by the gods. And you shall have a new...um...what kind of weapon would you like? A sword? An axe?"

"Stick!" Tyson showed his broken club, grinning widely at the gods. Anastasia smiled softly.

"Uh, very well," Zeus nodded awkwardly. "We will grant you a new, er, stick. The best stick that may be found."

"Hooray!" Tyson cried, and all the Cyclops cheered and pounded him on the back as he rejoined them.

"Grover Underwood of the satyrs!" Dionysus called. Grover came forward nervously. "Oh, stop chewing your shirt," Dionysus chided. "Honestly, I'm not going to blast you. For your bravery and sacrifice, blah, blah, blah, and since we have an unfortunate vacaney, the gods have seen fit to name you a member of the Council of Cloven Elders."

Grover collapsed on the spot. Anastasia thought his reward was fitting after what he had done to save the dryads and nymphs and other nature spirits.

"Oh, wonderful," Dionysus sighed, as several naiads came forward to help Grover. "Well, when he wakes up, someone tell him that he will no longer be an outcast, and that all satyrs, naiads, and other spirits of nature will henceforth treat him as a lord of the Wild, with all rights, privileges, and honors, blah, blah, blah. Now please, drag him off before he wakes up and starts groveling."

"Foooood!" Grover moaned, as the nature spirits carried him away.

"Annabeth Chase." Anastasia tensed at the sound of the name. She glanced at Athena, who beckoned her daughter to step forward. A part of Anastasia wanted to reach out to grab Annabeth's wrist and pull her away from the gods.

Instead, Anastasia watched Annabeth squeeze Percy's arm and smile at Andromeda before walking forward and knelt at her mother's feet.

A rare smile graced Athena's face. "You, my daughter, have exceeded all expectations. You have used your wits, your strength, and your courage to defend this city, and our seat of power. It has come to our attention that Olympus is....well, trashed. The Titan lord did much damage that will have to be repaired. We could rebuild it by magie, of course, and make it just as it was. But the gods feel that the city could be improved. We will take this as an opportunity. And you, my daughter, will design these improvements."

Annabeth looked up, stunned. "My — my lady?"

Athena smiled wryly. "You are an architect, are you not? You have studied the techniques of Daedalus himself. Who better to redesign Olympus and make it a monument that will last for another eon?"

"You mean ... I can design whatever I want?" Pride swelled in Anastasia's chest, despite the rocky few days.

"As your heart desires," the goddess said. "Make us a city for the ages."

"As long as you have plenty of statues of me." Apollo added.

"And me." Aphrodite agreed.

"Hey, and me!" Ares said. "Big statues with huge wicked swords and — "

"All right!" Athena interrupted, rolling her eyes at the gods. "She gets the point. Rise, my daughter, official architect of Olympus."

Annabeth rose in a trance and walked back toward Percy and Andromeda. Anastasia wanted to congratulate her, like they were doing to her, but they were too far apart.

"Andromeda Windsor," Hades called.

"Daughter of Hecate." Persephone finished.

Andromeda inhaled deeply, forcing a smile at Annabeth and Percy. She stepped forward to the Council, nodding at Nico who glowed at the sight of her. She bowed to Zeus before kneeling at Hades and Persephone's feet.

Persephone smiled brightly, though her eyes hinted at the deep sadness she went through. "When I was taken by Hades —" she grabbed her husband's hand "— your mother helped my mother worked together to find me. Although I shared time with both my mother and my husband, Hecate has been a constant in my life. She helped me as you have helped Olympus."

"And you have helped my children, Nico and Bianca." Hades's lips twitched up before settling into a frown. "Fighting against your past takes courage, but accepting it is a feat considered almost impossible. For your selflessness demonstrated today against your brother and the Titan Army, I give you this. "

He curls his fingers into a fist, waiting for a few moments, before uncurling them. In his palm was a dark onyx stone. He threw it down to a now standing Andromeda, who caught it unceremoniously.

"This stone, once crushed, can expel the darkness of whatever you choose. It can only be used once, so use it wisely."

She looked up with tears in her eyes, thanking the gods softly before bowing and walking away. She was still clutching the stone when Percy wrapped an arm around her.

"Before we call upon one more demigod who saved Olympus," Zeus began, his electric eyes scanning every face in the throne room, "we must discuss the traitors in the room."

His eyes landed on Anastasia and Morpheus.

"Morpheus, god of dreams, son of Hypnos," Zeus called, his voice dangerously low, "come forth and present yourself to the Council."

Her father laid a comforting hand on Anastasia's shoulder, squeezing once, before walking forward. He bowed to the gods, almost kneeling in front of Zeus. The act made Anastasia clench her jaw when she noticed Zeus's glee.

Zeus grumbled when Morpheus rose. "Despite joining the Titans in this battle, you have proved yourself worthy to Olympus by fighting alongside my brother, Hades. If the rest of the Council agrees, you will be forgiven with the thought that should another issue like this arise, you will not make the same mistake."

"I promise, Lord Zeus," gritted out Morpheus.

The Council murmured amongst themselves, debating on whether or not Anastasia's father should be forgiven or cast into the darkest pits of Tartarus. Finally, the gods pounded their weapons on the floor, voicing their agreements.

"Very well." Zeus gestured for Morpheus to go away. "You are forgiven." Morpheus walked away, bowing one final time as he headed to where Anastasia stood with her arms crossed.

She inhaled deeply, understanding that she was next.

"Anastasia Nishant, daughter of Morpheus." Zeus called, glaring at Anastasia.

Anastasia glanced at her father, who nodded. "Little dream, whatever happens, I still see you."

And perhaps, one day, that would be enough.

Anastasia nodded, and she started walking. Not to the gods. No.

She walked towards Percy Jackson. Standing there, face to face with the boy who helped her finally see what Kronos was doing to her and the world, Anastasia felt nothing but relief and happiness that he had made it out alive.

She held out her hand to him, giving him a small smile. Percy glanced at the hand, staring at it for a few minutes before shaking it.

"Do you think," Anastasia started, pulling her hand away from the boy, "if I hadn't done what I'd done, we would still be friends?" She smiled, but it was the sad sort of smile. The one that knew what would happen after and was not afraid.

Percy didn't answer her; he didn't need to. Anastasia answered for him. "Perhaps in another life, we would be friends."

"In another life." Percy nodded, a small smile twitching on his lips.

Anastasia turned to Andromeda, who looked close to tears. "Thank you. For not pushing me away even after what I did. You listened to me, so thank you for that."

     "You listened first." Andromeda wiped the tears that escaped her eyes. "That day in the Labyrinth."

     Anastasia felt her lips twitching into a smile. It quickly faded, however, when Anastasia turned her attention to the daughter of Athena. All of the breath in Anastasia's lungs blew out, and she felt like butterflies were swarming inside of her stomach.

     How quickly things have changed between Annabeth Chase and Anastasia Nishant: from strangers to frenemies to friends to enemies. And now, they would become strangers once again. But Anastasia would never forget Annabeth; not even when this world had crumbled to dust and had scattered across the night sky, becoming new stars.

     "I hate you."

     Anastasia smiled through her pain, feeling a tear slip down her cheek.

     "I know."

     Anastasia turned away from the girl, facing the gods at last. She took a step forward. And then another. And then another. Until she stood in the middle, surrounded by the twelve gods plus Hades and Persephone.

     She did not bow to them. They did not deserve it.

     "Anastasia Nishant, traitor of Olympus —"

     Anastasia held up a hand, effectively cutting off the gods. "Yes. You're right. I am a traitor. I turned my back on the gods and aided the enemy for a whole year before I came to understand what was truly occurring. In my defense, I thought I was healing the world from its cruelty. Instead, I was a pariah, watching demigods fall, and I hate — I hate how I took part in their fall."

     She glanced back at her father and the three demigods holding each others' hands. "You can cast me into the deepest, darkest pits of Tartarus, or-or — actually, I don't know what's worse than Tartarus." Anastasia paused, getting her thoughts in order. "Look, all I'm saying is that I made a mistake, but I don't regret it. I still don't know who I am yet — and maybe I never will — but I know who I can become."

     The gods were silent, the only noise left was the flickering of Hestia's hearth, and even she nodded at Anastasia. Zeus broke the silence. "Anastasia Nishant, you have lied, cheated, betrayed the trust of your fellow demigods and the trust of us gods."

     Anastasia glanced at Annabeth, who was determined not to meet her eyes.

     "You have joined our father to trample Olympus to rubble and destroy the world. You were the right hand of Kronos, and for that matter alone, you should receive a fitting punishment." Zeus paused for dramatic effect. "However...once realizing the depravity of your actions, you fought against him here in this very room. You aided Perseus Jackson, the son of Poseidon, and Camp Half-Blood through the course of this battle.

     "So the Council sentences you this punishment: you, Anastasia Nishant, daughter of Morpheus, traitor of Olympus, are exiled from Olympus and Camp Half-Blood; your exile will only end when Annabeth Chase, daughter of Athena, welcomes you back on Camp Half-Blood soil."

     Anastasia gaped at the god in front of her. No. This was cruel. She understood being exiled — she deserved that — but in order for it to end, she needed to be welcomed back on Camp soil by the girl who hated her?

     That was impossible.

     ANASTASIA NISHANT DREAMED that she standing beside a water fountain. She stared at the small god jutting out clear water from its mouth, perplexed at the insignia on its chest. The liquid shimmered, her reflection stretching out in the tiny pond in ripples. The gold coins in the fountain gleamed underneath the harsh sun's rays.

     "You know, it's such a shame that a beautiful fountain can become so ugly." A familiar voice behind her said, and Anastasia could feel herself beginning to smile. "Someone once brought me to this fountain to tell me some bad news."

     "Oh really?" Anastasia didn't need to turn around to know who the voice belonged to. "How bad was the news?"

     The boy sucked in air through his teeth, clicking a couple of times. "Real bad, man. I was in tears by the end of it."

     Anastasia barked out a laugh, breaking the glass of serenity that washed over the place. She shook her head, turning around to sit down on one of the benches in front of the water fountain. It had a nice view of the gardens, and in the distance, Anastasia could make out a few lavenders and sunflowers.

"Care to tell me what it was?" Anastasia teased, patting the empty space beside her but still not looking at the boy. "Or am I going to have to be in tears?"

The boy slid into the open seat, chuckling lightly. "Alright, but be warned: it might get messy." He inhaled deeply, leaning back in his seat until his back thudded against the back of the bench softly. "I was a young boy, barely 12, when I get pulled aside by my favorite baker in this place. I was a frequent at his bakery, gobbling —"

"Gobbling?" Anastasia snickered. "Who the fuck uses 'gobble' in a sentence?"

"Hey now!" he scoffed, clearly offended by Anastasia's remark. "Gobble is a wonderful verb to use, and lots of people use it."

Anastasia rolled her eyes, leaning back as well. "Oh yeah? Name three insane people that use the word 'gobble' in their day to day dialogues."

"Okay." He leaned forward, and Anastasia glanced down to see his hand out to count down the people he knew that used the word 'gobble.' "There's uh...Don." Anastasia furrowed her brows, and he rushed to continue. "You don't know him. He's kind of...eccentric, in a way. There's Dakota. Oh, and me! There. Three people."

"Whatever you say, dude," Anastasia raised her hands in a mock surrender. "I'm just glad you think you're insane."

"What — oh you sly dreamer," the boy laughed.

"Go on." Anastasia gestured for the boy to continue with his story. "You were gobbling."

"Yes." The boy's voice still held some remnants of laughter. "So, anyways, I was staring up at the baker, thinking that he was gonna give me some chocolate brownies for free. Imagine my heartbreak when it turns out he was actually using me to buy another restaurant in order to sell — and wait for it — peach preserves — his true passion."

"His true passion was peach preserves?" Anastasia choked on a laugh, closing her eyes as she imagined a young blonde boy's apparent hurt. "Cold awakening for a little boy such as yourself, yes?"

He sighed dramatically. "The day I found out, I became a new person. I vowed never to eat peach preserves. It was a cold day that day."

"Oh I bet." Anastasia giggled, turning her head to finally look at the boy.

His electric blue eyes were the first thing that she noticed. That and how they made his face kinder and brighter. The little scar on his lip seemed to glow silver underneath the sunlight, and his blond hair was trimmed short.

     Jason, or also known as, Mr. Perfect.

     He grinned, showing off his perfect teeth. "Tough times back then, huh?" Anastasia slapped his arm lightly, turning to look at the garden once again.

     They sat there in silence, staring at the flowers arranged meticulously in the garden. Even though it was only a dream, Anastasia truly never felt more at peace. With her exile and Annabeth's confession of hatred, this was the exact kind of break Anastasia was looking for: quiet and comforting. She didn't even need to belong in this place; she just needed peace, and Jason would provide that.

     "I might sound stupid right now —" Jason began, scratching the back of his neck.

     "When do you not?" Anastasia quickly interjected, grinning at him so he would recognize the jab as a joke and not an insult.

     Jason rolled his eyes, sighing loudly as if he was sick of Anastasia's shit. "Ha ha. You're a funny gal." Anastasia winked at him. "But seriously, are you okay?"

     There it was. The three words that Anastasia dreaded to hear. Was she okay? Would she ever be okay? Anastasia didn't know how she felt. It felt like she was feeling everything, and yet nothing at the same time. She felt guilty, but she knows that if given the opportunity to be Kronos's right hand again, she would say yes again, despite knowing the outcome. Anastasia felt numb, but everytime Annabeth popped up in her mind, fireworks exploded in her stomach, and it would be like her whole body was lit anew.

     Anastasia was okay, but also not okay at the same time. It was inexplicable; the way Anastasia felt should be written down somewhere, like a cheat code to a video game she had seen some Hermes's kids play.

     "Yes. No. Maybe." Anastasia sighed, looking down at the dust cobblestones. "I don't know if I'm okay. If I'll ever be okay. I just — I hurt people, Jason. Badly. But the worse part is that although I feel bad for hurting them, but I don't regret it." She let out a broken chuckle. "I'm just another messed up demigod, huh?"

     "No." Jason rested his large hand on her shoulder, pulling Anastasia's attention away from the road and back to his kind face. "It just shows that you're human. We all make mistakes, and sometimes, we feel like we made the right decision, even if it hurt a few people. Mistakes help you grow, but only if you choose to learn from them."

     Anastasia frowned, absorbing his words. She sat there for a moment, pondering over her life and the things she did. "What — what if you make the same mistake? Despite knowing what it might lead to?"

     Jason shrugged, pulling his warm hand away. "I guess it would depend on how much you would know you would hurt from it."

     Anastasia sniffed, rubbing her nose. She let out a breathy chuckle. "When did you become so wise?"

     "I don't know what you're talking about," Jason shrugged. "I was always this wise."

     Anastasia punched his shoulder, laughing with him. When the dream message rippled, she glanced at Jason, who nodded his goodbye, and grinned brightly.

     When her eyes fluttered open, Anastasia was brought back to a moving bus, next to an empty seat that had her backpack, stuffed with essentials, on it. She blinked a couple more times, rubbing her eyes to wipe away the sleep.

     She turned her attention to the filthy window and smiled. The sight of green plains and stranded telephone poles passing by made Anastasia want to step outside to take a breath of fresh air. The bus shook with every turn, and although she was being tossed into the window everytime, Anastasia felt a little bit lighter now that she was heading somewhere safer.

     "Ladies and gentlemen," the bus driver announced, "welcome to California."

     Anastasia Nishant was going to where Jason lived.

New Rome, California.

get ready for hoo! (u r not gonna be ready for what i have planned mwah ha ha ha!!) also, annie getting exiled but only allowed back in by someone who hates her....dramaaa

but we have finished act 2!!! thank you all for making it this far!!!

love from me <333