Even though I'd been kidnapped and knocked out for who knows how long, it was the first real sleep I'd had in days. My tense body finally relaxed, but the calm didn't last long. The next thing I knew, pain hit me like a freight train—dull, throbbing, and everywhere. Even breathing felt like a chore.
Every worry came pushing back into my mind—my crew, the prophecy, my destiny...
Who knows if they're still alive or not? And I would be the one who gets blamed for their deaths. My blood boiled at that thought. Me? Haven't I gone through enough in this damned life? Why couldn't I just be given a normal life, to be loved and appreciated because of what I am and what I do, instead of this cruel life of endlessly fleeing from monsters even after my grave? Why did I have to babysit all these toddlers? Because they could be the key to everything? Screw "everything" then, screw the gods, I—
I let out a long shudder, relieved I hadn't said that out loud. The gods would've blasted me off the face of the Earth, and even my own dad, Hephaestus, wouldn't have hesitated. They have too big of an ego to spare even their own sweat and tears.
I shouldn't let my emotions take control—it could be the end of me. I shot a glare at a fellow inmate, who flinched, and clenched my jaw. I shouldn't have let my guard down. What was I thinking? These chains—I could've stopped this. I could've brought glory to my cabin, earned respect, and made my parents… proud. That was what little me would've wanted. But there was no point dwelling on it now.
I glanced down at my handcuffs. Aluminum. Melting point: 660⁰C, but it starts loosening at 150⁰C. Basic stuff. Even though I'm not usually one for long-term planning—or plans in general—right then and there, such a plan started forming in my head.
***
"...diamond…abyss…Tartarus…"
My head spun as I woke up for the third time. Distant voices echoed through the corridors, too muddled for me to piece together. Why was there a random person standing here now? I curled into a ball, trying to shield myself from the slivers of moonlight sneaking through the bars.
I couldn't believe it. I'd failed three times in a row. My plan was simple—wait until everyone cleared out around midnight, then use the torch near the window to melt my handcuffs. Who in their right mind would put a fire source above a jail cell? But I wasn't in any position to judge. Despite the stroke of luck that gave me this chance, exhaustion won every time. Three nights in a row—three—and I passed out before I could even start.
I glanced sideways at the small plate of breadcrumbs beside me. The memory of my last meal flashed in my mind—me tearing into the dry bread, stuffing my mouth, nearly choking as the mortals laughed in my face.
I scrubbed at my eyes, trying to shake off the lingering blur. Slowly, the voices around me started to come into focus.
"Her, of all people? Agile, yes, but such a rare find... it would be a shame to let her slip away." The man in black seized my chin, jerking my face up to meet their cold gaze.
"Rarity has its allure, my dear," the other replied, his voice dripping with menace. "But tell me this: do the souls of Tartarus not offer more power in their endless numbers or a single rare gem? Is this truly the path you wish to follow, pursuing a mere spark of legend?"
"The legendary diamond, Romulus?" His nails dug into my skin, and I could feel the cold pressure of his metal rings pressing against me. "Of course, I am. But do we truly need…?"
"It's for the greater good. Imagine the power we could wield—we could control almost everything in the blink of an eye and with a mere flick of the finger." Romulus's grin widened as he extended his hand. "So…?"
"Are you certain? Tartarus is treacherous, and dreams from there can't be trusted." He loosened his grip on my chin as I slapped his hand away. He shot me a look of disgust before turning back to the other man. "But power is irresistible. And this [censored] is irritating…"
"Now you understand, brother Dyn." Romulus tossed the keys to Dyn with a flick of his wrist, and I watched as they sparkled in the dim light, catching the glint of metal. "This is just another step on our path to victory."
My mind raced as I tried to piece together what I'd just heard. Were they seriously thinking of using me as a sacrifice?
This is bad. Tartarus is trouble on a whole other level, and these mortals don't have a clue about what they're messing with. No, no, NO!
"UHM! MHM! MMM!" My attempts at screaming were swallowed by the rough fabric pressing against my dry, cracked lips.
"Look at it squirm, Dyn! Get it out of here before it starts spewing everywhere like the last one." Romulus tilted his head with a smirk before striding out the door, leaving it wide open behind him.
Cachak!
The harsh clank of metal against metal echoed as he fumbled with the lock on my cell. I narrowed my eyes and furrowed my brow, steeling myself as he grabbed me by the arms, yanking me roughly. He seemed to think it was going to be easy, but did he really know what he was up against? I am half-god, mortal. (This came out much scarier than I imagined)
I quickly hooked the tip of my shoe into the metal bars of the cell, digging my heels in to resist his pull. My nails dug into his wrists, trying to fend him off as I fought to stay put, leaving red marks behind on the back of his hand.
"You [censored]!" Dyn grunted. As he struggled, his grip slipped, and he accidentally stepped on my head, forcing my face into the cold floor. The impact sent a jolt of pain through my nose, making me wince and bite down hard on my tongue to keep from crying out.
In a desperate move, I twisted my body and kicked out, my foot landing hard in his groin. Dyn let out a guttural, pained cry, stumbling back and clutching his schlong. Tears of pain sprang to his eyes as he groaned and collapsed onto the floor.
"Dammit!" Dyn spat, his face contorted with pain as he stumbled to his feet. His glare was a mix of rage and frustration as I scrambled up, my movements frantic. I started rubbing my cuffs together, desperate to create some sparks that might catch his attention—or better yet, get into his eyes.
The aluminum clanged harshly, sending sharp, fleeting glints of light into the dim space. The sparks sizzled and flared, and as one flew towards him, Dyn's face twisted further in agony. He recoiled, a pained yelp escaping his lips as a spark grazed his cheek, leaving a smoldering mark.
The fabric muffling me loosened a bit, giving me the chance to breathe through my mouth, which felt like a small victory. Panting, I flicked my eyes between the groaning guy in front of me, and the holy exit. The old wooden door groaned on its hinges, shifting slightly as the wind pushed against it.
Focus… Breathe…
"Why…?" I gasped, my chest rising and falling rapidly. "Why are you doing… this?"
He responded with a rabbit punch, aiming right for my midsection. I managed to veer to the left, feeling the brush of his fist just inches from my windpipe. He cursed under his breath, wiping the sweat off his forehead as his guard lowered. That was my chance. I charged at him limply, trying to deliver a haymaker that would knock him out cold. I knew that if I didn't act fast, I wouldn't make it out alive.
My most powerful swing only grazed him, all because my mind was scattered, my thoughts racing as I wasn't fully focused on my opponent. When the blow didn't land, my hand darted to his pocket, and I fumbled around until I felt the keychain.
As I felt the cold weight of the keys in my hand, relief washed over me. But just as I was about to unlock the cuffs, a sudden, brutal crunch made me gasp. A searing pain shot through my calf, and I looked up only to see Dyn looming over me with a satisfied grin on his face and one foot smashing down on my right leg. He had stood up and snapped my leg like a twig.
My vision blurred, dark spots creeping in at the edges and I could barely keep myself awake. Curse them for giving me only bread for the day. I stumbled forward, stomach growling as I grabbed at Dyn's throat. My fingers tightened around his neck, even with my wrists still bound by chains.
He gagged, coughing on his own spit as I wrung out his neck, my grip shaky but not letting go. I grinded my knees hard into his gut as he fumbled for the dagger—my dagger—shoved in his pocket. He had all my stuff (Oh, and he must've snagged my fanny pack too, because it was nowhere near my cell, and believe me, I checked everywhere), and I would've been fuming if it wasn't for the constant pain that was so overwhelming it was all I could do was not vomit.
His hand finally found it, and he drove it into my hips, dragging it down my body, slicing through flesh until it hit my thigh. I screamed until breathless as blood spurted from the gash carved into me, my body shaking uncontrollably. My breath came in ragged gasps, and in a desperate frenzy, I tightened my grip around his neck even more as the knife sank deeper into my side.
After what felt like forever, his arm went slack and hit the floor. I cringed as the blade slid out of the deep gash he'd left in me, the pain still sharp and burning.
The diamond… danger… My head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and suddenly everything looked like a funhouse mirror. Double vision? Check. Complete confusion? Double check. It was like I was totally out of it—drunk, dizzy, and barely standing. I staggered toward the open door, trying not to trip over my own feet. My last clear thought rattled around my brain, like an annoying alarm I couldn't turn off: Must escape… must warn them…
***
My bad leg scraped through the coarse sand, every grain stabbing into the open wound, stinging worse than ever. I winced, biting down hard to keep from screaming, but the pain gnawed at me with every inch I dragged myself forward. I had left my backpack with Nebby—packed with the last of my ambrosia. Brilliant move, I thought bitterly. My leg was a swollen mess, all purple and bruised, throbbing like it would burst any moment now.
Desperation gnawed at me. How long had I been crawling? An hour? Maybe more. All I could see was endless sand stretching out to the horizon, with rolling dunes and the towering mountain breaking it up once in a while. With every painful shuffle forward, my frustration grew. Tears burned in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. This is how the gods repay me? Stranded in the middle of nowhere, no food, no help, and a busted leg? I cursed under my breath. Is this really worth it—just for some stupid prophecy?
The sand dug into my skin, scratching and pricking with every move, but I forced myself to keep going. The moonlight beamed down on my face, almost mocking me for the mess I was in. When did I get so poetic? I hadn't even noticed the sky darkening until now. My survival instincts kicked in, urging me to follow the light ahead—a strange, glowing streak stretching out in front of me. Helplessly, I crawled after it.
Don't leave me. I'm right here. Don't go just yet. Please don't keep moving on, like she did.
My arms gave out, and my face plunged into the desert sand. I spluttered, the salty crunch filling my mouth, while more gritty granules tangled in my already matted hair. Definitely not how I pictured my first trip to the desert. I imagined something glorious—my mom and I soaking in the view of pristine dunes, the wind whistling as the sand crackled beneath our flip-flops. Yet here I am, alone, weak, and stuck in a barren wasteland, full of nothing but sand and the occasional dead plant. Not exactly ideal.
I stared ahead, my eyes locking onto something that didn't belong. My breath hitched. Paper? Here? What the…?
For a second, confusion washed over my helplessness. Paper? Buried in the sand?
With trembling hands, I started digging, the grains falling away under my fingers. The moonlight, now softer, shimmered over the golden particles. I could feel it—thin, fragile, folded so many times it felt like it might tear apart. Carefully, I pulled it free, shaking off as much sand as I could. It looked ancient, crumpled, yellowed with age, and rough under my fingertips.
What the hell is this doing out here?
For a split second, a wild thought crossed my mind—maybe I could use this to stop the bleeding. It was ridiculous, but I was too far gone to care. Maybe I was losing it too. I started folding the paper, ready to shove it into my wound, when something caught my eye—writing.
A name. A single name written in bold, faded letters.
"Apóllon. Eímai o Apóllonas… (Apollo. I am Apollo…)" I didn't even bother reading the rest of the letter the moment I got to the 'I am Apollo' part.
My breath caught in my throat. Apollo. The god. And here I was, bleeding out in the middle of a desert, abandoned by the very gods that were supposed to help. A crisp laugh escaped my lips, full of spite and iciness. Apollo. How fitting.
I could feel the heat rising in my chest, the anger bubbling up again. You think you can drop me a name and I'll bow down and thank you? My hands shook with rage, and I almost tore the paper apart then and there. I stopped myself, just barely. Instead, I crumpled it into a ball and stuffed it into my shirt.
This was stupid. I was stupid. I clenched my teeth, pushed the pain and frustration deep down, and kept crawling. The sand was endless, stretching on and on, each grain dragging me further into exhaustion. My elbows dug into the ground, pulling me forward inch by agonizing inch, until…
I saw it.
A light.
My heart pounded in my chest. Lanterns, flickering in the distance. Wooden structures. Shelter. Life.
For a moment, I almost cried, tears of relief filling my eyes. Three tents, glowing softly in the night, with the moon high above. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself.
I'd followed the moon, I realized. And it had led me here, to this. I didn't know if the gods were mocking me or guiding me, but it didn't matter anymore. I had found something. Someone.
A figure, cloaked in black, crouched down onto the ground just a few feet away. My heart pounded against my ribcage, faster and faster, terror creeping into every corner of my mind. They've found me. The thought hammered through my brain. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself to disappear, my brows furrowing, forehead creased as I tried to calm the rising panic.
Then, out of the darkness, a voice. Gritty and rough, like sand, only a bit softer and… not as painful.
"Emelie… Em? Where is your mother?"
"... Father?"