"The weight of a god's blood is heavier than the ocean itself, but even the strongest tides can't wash away a heart that refuses to break" -- --- Khaimah Peter
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The forest whispered around them, the rustle of leaves and distant hoot of an owl filling the silence. The fire had burned low, flickering embers casting faint glows across their tired faces. Gravill's body ached, his muscles stiff from the day's relentless trek, but it was nothing compared to the weight in his chest.
He couldn't stop thinking about what Nicholas had said — about the hatred he'd face from the other demigods. The thought of walking into a place where he'd be treated as an outsider, where his very existence might be seen as an insult, gnawed at him like teeth on bone.
Gravill turned the bangle on his wrist, watching the way it glimmered in the dying firelight. The trident had felt like a curse since the moment it appeared in his hands, like he'd inherited something too ancient, too powerful, too dangerous to belong to him.
But he couldn't escape it.
He was Poseidon's heir — whether he wanted to be or not.
The morning arrived in shades of gold and gray, dew clinging to the leaves like tiny shards of glass. Gravill barely slept, his mind churning with restless thoughts. Nicholas was the first to rise, stretching with a groan before prodding the embers of the fire with a stick. Elsa stirred soon after, rubbing her eyes and yawning as she stood.
They didn't speak much as they packed up their camp, the quiet almost reverent as they began their journey again.
By midday, they reached a river that cut through the forest like a silver vein, the water rushing over jagged rocks in a constant, tireless flow. Gravill knelt by the edge, cupping his hands to splash the cool water on his face. The sensation was grounding, a brief relief from the chaos in his head.
Elsa crouched beside him, watching the water swirl. "Do you feel it?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper.
Gravill frowned. "Feel what?"
She tilted her head. "The river," she said. "The power in it. It's faint, but it's there. You're Poseidon's son — water should feel like... home."
Gravill let his fingers trail through the current, focusing on the sensation. At first, it was just water — cold and fast and relentless. But as he concentrated, he felt something else. A pulse. A rhythm. Like the beating heart of the earth itself.
He jerked his hand back, breathing uneven. "It's... alive," he muttered.
Elsa nodded, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. "It responds to you," she said. "You just don't know how to listen yet."
Nicholas tossed a pebble into the river, watching it disappear beneath the surface. "We should keep moving," he said, already turning back to the path. "The closer we get, the more dangerous it'll become."
They walked for hours, the terrain growing rougher the farther they went. The forest grew denser, shadows stretching long and dark as the sun began its descent. Gravill's legs ached, but he pressed on, driven by the quiet determination that had been building inside him since they left the cave.
He didn't know what waited for him at the training ground. Didn't know what kind of trials he'd face or what kind of people he'd meet.
But he knew he couldn't run from it.
By nightfall, they reached a clearing overlooking a vast expanse of mountains, their jagged peaks rising like broken teeth against the horizon. Nicholas dropped his bag and sat against a tree, rubbing his temples.
"We're close," he said, voice rough. "A day or two more."
Gravill sank to the ground, exhaustion settling in his bones. He stared out at the distant mountains, heart hammering against his ribs like it was trying to break free.
Elsa sat beside him, silent for a long time before she finally spoke.
"You don't have to be what they expect," she whispered.
Gravill turned to her, confused. "What?"
She hugged her knees to her chest, resting her chin on them. "The other demigods," she said. "Poseidon. The gods. They'll try to make you into something. But you don't have to be that. You can be... you."
Gravill looked down at the bangle, tracing its smooth surface with his thumb. He wanted to believe her.
He really did.
But as the stars blinked to life above them, he couldn't help but feel like his fate was already written — like he was just another story playing out in the endless cycle of godly wars and forgotten children.
Still, he clenched his fists and held on to her words like a lifeline.
Because even if he didn't believe them yet...
Maybe one day he would.