#Reed Scuro

[ausaplenty]

Uncertain tactics

Reed Scuro. The Oracle. Demigod AU. 541 words.

Reed tries to avoid fate using familiar tactics.

Chhhhhhhrip

The small flame illuminated only a small radius beyond the matchhead, the sphere of light barely reaching Reed’s fingertips. A draft rustled the sheer curtains around the bed and the demigod froze as he looked beyond the flickering flame.

 The husk of a human on the bed remained still.

He could hear movement in the floors beneath him, the sounds of Apollo campers and injured demigods in the infirmary on the first floor. But none drew closer, leaving him and the Oracle alone in the attic.

He pressed the match to the incense.

Myrrh. Benzoin. Valerian. Galbanum. The wisps of smoke filled the wooden bowl and wafted upwards, filling his nostrils with their sweet aroma. He flicked the match to extinguish it.

His body felt fragile, brittle – like a single breath upon his being would cause him to crumble. The single thread holding him together was a familiar cord, vibrating with a god’s curse.

Hades.

That sole string burned with rage and vengeance, with pain. It wrapped around the dried-out husk of his heart, a promise of eternal suffering as retribution for something.

It made him think of Lilian, of the black poison leeching into her blood as it stretched toward her heart. Of her broken voice as she played her trump card, the bitter sting of victory as his shadows protected him.

A hiss pushed through his paper-thin lips as the god’s power flowed through him, burning every fiber of his being as the thread sang and palpated his heart, bringing temporary life to the empty vessel. It forced itself outward, lifting the canopy that surrounded his bed and rattling the walls with its might.

The prophecy carried itself from his body, born by the godly gust, as the reedy voice filled the cabin.

“To halt prophecies’ flood, youngest born same blood, pull net of lovers’ tryst from weaver’s ruthless fist with nomad now twice lost or iv’ry pays the cost.”

As suddenly as it had appeared, the vision vanished, draining him of the brief life. His world returned to darkness, neither live nor dead, as the single thread stung.

Apollo may lay claim to the god of prophecies, but Reed knew what they were at the root … and he knew how to slow the Dream god.

Trying to invoke dreamless sleep to render an oracle impotent felt like a haphazard plan, too unpredictable to ease his nerves. But this was not like the Lethe debacle, when his path was clearer. The only advantage was that he knew the key player without having to rely on Lilian to identify them.

If only it hadn’t been Kiara.

The incense burned, the scent slowly stretching to fill the room. He tried to ignore the cloying perfume as he withdrew the leather pouch from his satchel. He poured the crystals onto the bed and started to arrange them under the pillows around the oracle’s head.

Slim bars of amethysts and lepidolite, their purple gradients shifting from the palest lavender to rich plum. Small cubes of celestite, sky blue and cloudy.

He picked up the last crystal, a semi-translucent white stone that practically hummed with energy. He folded his hands around it, imbuing it with intention.

Selenite. Good for warding off nightmares.

[isaiahrippinus]

Visions of Italy: Sardinia’s Sun-Drenched, Wind-Swept Vineyards

This article and the Visions of Italy series is sponsored by Santa Margherita USA. 

  A mere one-hour flight from Rome, across the blue-green Tyrrhenian Sea, plus a winding road trip through the hilly heart of Sardinia, will land you in front of the imposing facade of  Cantina Mesa winery. The white, minimalist structure overlooks a lush marshland that borders the shimmering beaches of Porto Pino in the island’s southwestern Sulcis-Iglesiente region, a windswept place of striking beauty that hints at the vitality of the wines produced here.

Summer is unparalleled in this corner of the world. At the height of the season, vines are heavy with grapes — ruby-hued Carignano, light-skinned Vermentino, blood-red Cannonau, and more — and the undulating countryside around Cantina Mesa is enveloped in leafy green.

A beautiful seaside setting

The neighboring territories of Sulcis and Iglesiente make up Sardinia’s southernmost tip, which juts into the Mediterranean Sea. The soil here is a loamy sand riddled with limestone and red clay that’s rich in calcium and micronutrients, perfect for vineyards. Especially popular with tourists is the picturesque Sant’Anna Arresi area, home to a mile-long stretch of pine-lined beach — Porto Pino — whose white dunes soar to 100 feet.

The soil here is a loamy sand riddled with limestone and red clay that’s rich in calcium and micronutrients, perfect for vineyards.

Alongside vineyards, the hills are planted with olive, almond, and citrus trees and fields of artichokes, with sheep roaming the spaces in between. All manner of migratory birds — pink flamingos, diving cormorants, regal kingfishers, and graceful egrets —flock to these shores in summer, putting on quite the show. So, too, do the adrenaline-charged kitesurfers lured here by clear skies and crystalline waters.

A hot and dry climate

The local Mediterranean climate is generally agreeable with mild winters, but not without its challenges. Just 25.5 inches of rain fall here annually — in contrast, New York City gets about 45 inches each year — and temperatures in summer can rocket to 100 degrees Fahrenheit. However, savvy vintners versed in the latest winemaking techniques know how to coax the best yield from this land.

Choosing the right tract of land can make or break a vineyard. That’s why much of Cantina Mesa’s 78 hectares are located in a valley not far from Porto Pino, where they’re sheltered from the strong, northwesterly winds that roll in from southern France. Here, vines are trained vertically and treated to meticulous and constant pruning, ensuring they’ll produce grapes of the highest quality.

“Apparently, the combination of the island’s marine environment and coastal vineyards encourages more thorough ripening,” writes Ian D’Agata in his definitive work, “Native Wine Grapes of Italy.” The phenomenon is all the more magical because the scientific underpinning for it remains unclear. “I’m not sure anyone has ever furnished me with a physiologically plausible explanation,” D’Agata marvels.

Great grapes

The grape varieties that best thrive in this place are those best suited to mild, dry climates, grapes that are found in various corners of the Mediterranean. Among them is Carignano (a.k.a. Carignan), a deep red grape that originally hails from Spain and is believed to have been brought to Sardinia as early as the 9th century B.C. by seafaring Phoenicians.

Cantina Mesa’s Buio is ideal for pairing delicious grilled meats and fish.

In Cantina Mesa’s Buio (Italian for “darkness”) bottling, the grape’s deep color contributes to a dark, inky hue. Vintners at Cantina Mesa choose not to age the wine in oak in order to showcase the fruit in all its majesty: elegant aromas of ripe plum and red fruits with notes of black pepper. The full-bodied wine packs firm tannins and vibrant acidity with a lively finish. The expressive wine finds an ideal pairings in grilled red meats, seared tuna, and local pasta and rice dishes accented with Sardinian pecorino cheese.

Meanwhile, Buio-Buio — Italian for “very dark” — is aged for two years in barrique, yielding a nose of ripe red berry fruits and savory notes of balsamic and warm spices. The bottling boasts fine tannins, fresh acidity, and a long, multi-layered finish — the perfect match for roast game birds, wild boar, and matured cheeses.

Also remarkably successful in Sardinia is the white Vermentino grape, which produces a light-bodied but complex wine. Vermentino is planted all around the Mediterranean, from Provence to Liguria, but in this sun-drenched region, the grape is able to develop ripe tropical flavors alongside its usual minerality. In Cantina Mesa’s Primo Bianco, Vermentino yields a pale straw color with aromas of fresh citrus and apricot. Pair it with fish soups, grilled sea bass, and creamy cheeses like buffalo mozzarella and tangy goat cheese. Vermentino also shines in the winery’s fresh Giunco bottling, which is balanced with a stony minerality and ripe mango flavors. Drink it alongside platters of salt-baked fish and refreshing seafood crudos.

Vermentino also shines in the winery’s fresh Giunco bottling, a name that means “the reeds of Sardinia’s lakes and ponds.” Giunco is balanced with a stony minerality and ripe mango flavors.

Another notable grape in Sardinia is Cannonau, a late-ripening Spanish grape better known elsewhere in world as Grenache. Spicy and berry-flavored, Cannonau benefits from the island’s dry heat and imparts supple tannins and a warm finish to Cantina Mesa’s ruby-hued Primo Scuro offering. The wine’s full-bodied aromas offer notes of wild red fruits and spice. It stands up well to fatty Italian cold cuts, strong-flavored fish, grilled meats, and soft cheeses.

No matter which bottle you choose, it will transport you to this sun-bleached, pine-scented island, bringing peak summer with it.

This article is sponsored by Cantina Mesa.

  The article Visions of Italy: Sardinia’s Sun-Drenched, Wind-Swept Vineyards appeared first on VinePair.

source https://vinepair.com/articles/visions-of-italy-sardinia/ source https://vinology1.tumblr.com/post/188582447504

[johnboothus]

Visions of Italy: Sardinias Sun-Drenched Wind-Swept Vineyards

 This article and the Visions of Italy series is sponsored by Santa Margherita USA. 

 A mere one-hour flight from Rome, across the blue-green Tyrrhenian Sea, plus a winding road trip through the hilly heart of Sardinia, will land you in front of the imposing facade of  Cantina Mesa winery. The white, minimalist structure overlooks a lush marshland that borders the shimmering beaches of Porto Pino in the island’s southwestern Sulcis-Iglesiente region, a windswept place of striking beauty that hints at the vitality of the wines produced here.

Summer is unparalleled in this corner of the world. At the height of the season, vines are heavy with grapes — ruby-hued Carignano, light-skinned Vermentino, blood-red Cannonau, and more — and the undulating countryside around Cantina Mesa is enveloped in leafy green.

A beautiful seaside setting

The neighboring territories of Sulcis and Iglesiente make up Sardinia’s southernmost tip, which juts into the Mediterranean Sea. The soil here is a loamy sand riddled with limestone and red clay that’s rich in calcium and micronutrients, perfect for vineyards. Especially popular with tourists is the picturesque Sant’Anna Arresi area, home to a mile-long stretch of pine-lined beach — Porto Pino — whose white dunes soar to 100 feet.

The soil here is a loamy sand riddled with limestone and red clay that’s rich in calcium and micronutrients, perfect for vineyards.

Alongside vineyards, the hills are planted with olive, almond, and citrus trees and fields of artichokes, with sheep roaming the spaces in between. All manner of migratory birds — pink flamingos, diving cormorants, regal kingfishers, and graceful egrets —flock to these shores in summer, putting on quite the show. So, too, do the adrenaline-charged kitesurfers lured here by clear skies and crystalline waters.

A hot and dry climate

The local Mediterranean climate is generally agreeable with mild winters, but not without its challenges. Just 25.5 inches of rain fall here annually — in contrast, New York City gets about 45 inches each year — and temperatures in summer can rocket to 100 degrees Fahrenheit. However, savvy vintners versed in the latest winemaking techniques know how to coax the best yield from this land.

Choosing the right tract of land can make or break a vineyard. That’s why much of Cantina Mesa’s 78 hectares are located in a valley not far from Porto Pino, where they’re sheltered from the strong, northwesterly winds that roll in from southern France. Here, vines are trained vertically and treated to meticulous and constant pruning, ensuring they’ll produce grapes of the highest quality.

“Apparently, the combination of the island’s marine environment and coastal vineyards encourages more thorough ripening,” writes Ian D’Agata in his definitive work, “Native Wine Grapes of Italy.” The phenomenon is all the more magical because the scientific underpinning for it remains unclear. “I’m not sure anyone has ever furnished me with a physiologically plausible explanation,” D’Agata marvels.

Great grapes

The grape varieties that best thrive in this place are those best suited to mild, dry climates, grapes that are found in various corners of the Mediterranean. Among them is Carignano (a.k.a. Carignan), a deep red grape that originally hails from Spain and is believed to have been brought to Sardinia as early as the 9th century B.C. by seafaring Phoenicians.

Cantina Mesa’s Buio is ideal for pairing delicious grilled meats and fish.

In Cantina Mesa’s Buio (Italian for “darkness”) bottling, the grape’s deep color contributes to a dark, inky hue. Vintners at Cantina Mesa choose not to age the wine in oak in order to showcase the fruit in all its majesty: elegant aromas of ripe plum and red fruits with notes of black pepper. The full-bodied wine packs firm tannins and vibrant acidity with a lively finish. The expressive wine finds an ideal pairings in grilled red meats, seared tuna, and local pasta and rice dishes accented with Sardinian pecorino cheese.

Meanwhile, Buio-Buio — Italian for “very dark” — is aged for two years in barrique, yielding a nose of ripe red berry fruits and savory notes of balsamic and warm spices. The bottling boasts fine tannins, fresh acidity, and a long, multi-layered finish — the perfect match for roast game birds, wild boar, and matured cheeses.

Also remarkably successful in Sardinia is the white Vermentino grape, which produces a light-bodied but complex wine. Vermentino is planted all around the Mediterranean, from Provence to Liguria, but in this sun-drenched region, the grape is able to develop ripe tropical flavors alongside its usual minerality. In Cantina Mesa’s Primo Bianco, Vermentino yields a pale straw color with aromas of fresh citrus and apricot. Pair it with fish soups, grilled sea bass, and creamy cheeses like buffalo mozzarella and tangy goat cheese. Vermentino also shines in the winery’s fresh Giunco bottling, which is balanced with a stony minerality and ripe mango flavors. Drink it alongside platters of salt-baked fish and refreshing seafood crudos.

Vermentino also shines in the winery’s fresh Giunco bottling, a name that means “the reeds of Sardinia’s lakes and ponds.” Giunco is balanced with a stony minerality and ripe mango flavors.

Another notable grape in Sardinia is Cannonau, a late-ripening Spanish grape better known elsewhere in world as Grenache. Spicy and berry-flavored, Cannonau benefits from the island’s dry heat and imparts supple tannins and a warm finish to Cantina Mesa’s ruby-hued Primo Scuro offering. The wine’s full-bodied aromas offer notes of wild red fruits and spice. It stands up well to fatty Italian cold cuts, strong-flavored fish, grilled meats, and soft cheeses.

No matter which bottle you choose, it will transport you to this sun-bleached, pine-scented island, bringing peak summer with it.

This article is sponsored by Cantina Mesa.

  The article Visions of Italy: Sardinia’s Sun-Drenched, Wind-Swept Vineyards appeared first on VinePair.

Via https://vinepair.com/articles/visions-of-italy-sardinia/

source https://vinology1.weebly.com/blog/visions-of-italy-sardinias-sun-drenched-wind-swept-vineyards

[propheticgeneration]

Elina Garanca Latvian Lyic Mezzo sopran & Sir Simon Rattle German Conductor: orchestra Berliner Philharmoniker (Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra) Baden-Baden Sunday 25-March-2018 Seven early songs (Sieben frühe Lieder) (. 1905 – 1908),By Alban Berg, 1. Night Carl Hauptmann (1858-1921) Clouds gather over night and valley, Mists hover, waters ripple softly; Now, 0 look! Look! - A broad wonderland is opened up: Silver mountains loom wondrous large With, between them, silent paths Shining silver from earth's secret womb; - And the noble world, I know well in dream. By the way to beech-tree stands mute, A black shadow; a single breath Drifts gently from a distant grove. - And from the gloom of the low ground Twinkle lights in the silent night. 0 drink up solitude, my sSept chansons anciennes Une nuit--Siete canciones tempranas 1 noche Carl Hauptmann (1858-1921) Las nubes se juntan durante la noche y el valle, Las nieblas flotan, las aguas se ondulan suavemente; Ahora, de repente, el velo se levanta: 0 mira! ¡Mira! - Un amplio país de las maravillas se abre: Las montañas de plata se alzan maravillosamente Con, entre ellos, caminos silenciosos Plata brillante del útero secreto de la tierra; - Y el mundo noble, tan puro en el sueño. Por el camino, un árbol de hayas se queda mudo, Una sombra negra; una sola respiración Se desplaza suavemente desde un bosquecillo distante. - Y desde la penumbra de la tierra baja Brilla las luces en la noche Carl Hauptmann (1858-1921) Les nuages se rassemblent pendant la nuit et la vallée, Les brumes planent, les eaux ondulent doucement; Maintenant tout à la fois le voile est levé: 0 regarde! Regardez! - Un vaste pays des merveilles ouvert: Les montagnes argentées ils se lèvent merveilleusement Avec, entre eux, des chemins silencieux L'argent brillant de l'utérus secret de la terre; - Et le monde noble, si pur dans le rêve. Par le chemin, un hêtre reste muet, Une ombre noire; un seul souffle Dérive doucement d'un bosquet éloigné. - Et de la morosité du sol bas Lumières scintillantes dans la nuit silencieuse. 0 buvez la solitude, mon âme! 0 regarde! Regaroul! 0 look! Look!---Sette prime canzoni 1. Notte Carl Hauptmann (1858-1921) Le nuvole si accumulano durante la notte e la valle, Le foschie volteggiano, le acque si increspano dolcemente; Adesso, 0 guarda! Guarda! - Si apre un ampio paese delle meraviglie: Le montagne d'argento appaiono meravigliose Con, tra di loro, percorsi silenziosi Brillante argento dal ventre segreto della terra; - E il mondo nobile, lo so bene nei sogni. Tra l'altro, l'albero di faggio è muto, Un'ombra nera; un solo respiro Si allontana dolcemente da un boschetto distante. - E dall'oscurità della terra bassa Luci scintillanti nella notte silenziosa. 0 bevi la solitudine, anima mia! 0 guarda! Guarda!-Sete músicas antigas 1 noite Carl Hauptmann (1858-1921) As nuvens se juntam durante a noite e vale, As névoas pairam, as águas ondulam suavemente; Agora, 0 olha! Veja! - Uma maravilha País amplo é aberto: Montanhas de prata ´é levantam maravilhosamente Com, entre eles, caminhos silenciosos Prata brilhante do ventre secreto da terra; - E o mundo nobre, tão puro em sonho. Para a estrada, é uma árvore de lá está mudo, Uma sombra negra; um único suspiro Deriva gentilmente de um bosque distante. - E da escuridão do solo baixo Luzes cintilantes na noite silenciosa. 0 beba solidão, minha alma! 0 olha! Veja!tr Alban Berg Sieben frühe Lieder 1. Nacht Carl Hauptmann (1858-1921) Dämmern Wolken über Nacht und Tal, Nebel schweben, Wasser rauschen sacht. Nun entschleiert sich‘s mit einemmal: 0 gib acht! Gib acht! — Weites Wunderland ist aufgetan. Silbern ragen Berge, traumhaft groß, Stille Pfade silberlicht talan Aus verborg‘nem Schoß; — Und die hehre Welt so traumhaft rein. Stummer Buchenbaum am Wege steht Schattenschwarz, ein Hauch vom fernen Hain Einsam leise weht. —Eins Und aus tiefen Grundes Düsterheit Blinken Lichter auf in stummer Nacht. Trinke Seele! Trinke--2. Song amid the Reals Nikolaus Lenau (1802-1850) By secret forest paths I like to walk in the light of the night To the deserted reedy bank, Dear girl, and think of you. — When the thicket grows dark, The reeds rustle mysteriously, And there is whispered lament That I have to weep and weep. — And I seem to hear the sound Of your voice softly wafted, And your sweet song Sinking into the pond. 3. The Nightingale Theodor Storm (1817-1888) lt happens because the nightingale Has sung the whole night through: From its sweet notes Echo and the -echo The roses have burgeoned. She was once a beautiful and wild ; Now she walks deep in thought, Holding her sunhat in her hand, Quietly endures the sun‘s glow And knows not what to begin. — lt happens because the nightingale Has sung the whole night through: From its sweet notes Echo and the echo The roses have burgeoned.-- 2. Canción entre los Reales Nikolaus Lenau (1802-1850) Por caminos forestales secretos Me gusta caminar a la luz de la noche Al desértico banco de juncos, Querida niña, y piensa en ti. - Cuando el matorral se pone oscuro, Las cañas crujían misteriosamente Y hay un lamento susurrado Que tengo que llorar y llorar. - Y parece escuchar el sonido De tu voz suavemente flotando, Y tu dulce canción Hundirse en el estanque. 3. El ruiseñor Theodor Storm (1817-1888) Sucede porque el ruiseñor Ha cantado toda la noche a través de: De sus dulces notasE Eco y el eco Las rosas han florecido Ella fue una vez una bella y salvaje; Ahora ella camina profundamente en pensamiento, Sosteniendo su sombrero para el sol en la mano, Silenciosamente perdura el resplandor del sol Y no sabe qué comenzar. - Sucede porque el ruiseñor Ha cantado toda la noche a través de: De sus dulces notas Eco y el eco Las rosas han florecido..-- 2. Chanson au milieu des Réels Nikolaus Lenau (1802-1850) Par des sentiers forestiers secrets J'aime marcher dans la lumière de la nuit Pour la banque de roseaux déserte, Chère fille, et pense à toi. - Quand le fourré devient sombre, Les roseaux bruissent mystérieusement, Et il y a une plainte chuchotée Que je dois pleurer et pleurer. - Et j'ai l'impression d'entendre le son De ta voix doucement, Et ta douce chanson S'enfoncer dans l'étang. 3. Le rossignol Theodor Storm (1817-1888) Ça arrive parce que le rossignol A chanté toute la nuit à travers: De ses notes douces En écho et le écho Les roses ont fleuri. --- 2. Song in the Reals Nikolaus Lenau (1802-1850) Per sentieri forestali segreti Mi piace camminare alla luce della notte Verso la sponda deserta, Cara ragazza, e pensa a te. - Quando il boschetto diventa scuro, Le ance frusciano misteriosamente, E c'è un lamento sussurrato Che devo piangere e piangere. - E mi sembra di sentire il suono Della tua voce si diffondeva dolcemente, E la tua dolce canzone Affondare nello stagno. 3. L'usignolo Theodor Storm (1817-1888) Succede perché l'usignolo Ha cantato tutta la notte attraverso: Dalle sue note dolci Eco e i eco Le rose sono germogliate Elle était autrefois belle et sauvage; Maintenant, elle marche profondément dans ses pensées, Tenant son chapeau dans sa main, Tranquillement endure la lueur du soleil Et ne sait pas quoi commencer. - Ça arrive parce que le rossignol A chanté toute la nuit à travers: De ses notes douces Echo et l'écho Les roses ont fleuri. .- Era una volta bella e selvaggia; Ora, lei cammina nel profondo dei suoi pensieri, Tenendo il cappello in mano, Sopporta tranquillamente il bagliore del sole E non so cosa iniziare. - Succede perché l'usignolo Cantato tutta la notte attraverso: Dalle sue note dolci Eco ed eco Le rose sono fiorite. -2. Canção entre os reais Nikolaus Lenau (1802-1850) Por caminhos florestais secretos Eu gosto de andar na luz da noite Por o banco de desértico de juncos, Querida garota, e pense em você. - Quando o bosque escurece, Os juncos sussurram misteriosamente, E há lamento sussurrado Que tenho que chorar e chorar. - E eu pareço ouvir o som De sua voz suavemente soprada, E sua doce musica Afundando na lagoa. 3. O Rouxinol Tempestade de Theodor (1817-1888) Isso acontece porque o rouxinol Cantou a noite toda através de: De suas notas doces Eco e o Eco As rosas cresceram .Ela já foi uma bela e selvagem; Agora ela anda profundamente em pensamento, Segurando o chapéu de sol na mão, Silenciosamente suporta o brilho do sol E não sabe o que começar. - Isso acontece porque o rouxinol Cantou a noite toda através de: De suas notas doces Eco e o eco As rosas cresceram. --2. Schilflied Nikolaus Lenau (1802-1850) Auf geheimen Waldespfade Schleich‘ ich gern im Abendschein An das öde Schilfgestade, Mädchen, und gedenke dein! — Wenn sich dann der Busch verdüstert, Rauscht das Rohr geheimnisvoll, Und es klaget und es flüstert, Daß ich weinen, weinen soll. — Und ich mein´, ich höre wehen Leise deiner Stimme Klang, Und im Weiher untergehen Deinen lieblichen Gesang. 3. Die Nachtigall Theodor Storm (1817-1888) Das macht, es hat die Nachtigall Die ganze Nacht gesungen; Da sind von ihrem süßen Schall Die Rosen aufgesprungen. Sie war doch sonst ein wildes Blut, Nun geht sie tief in Sinnen, Trägt in der Hand den Sommerhut Und duldet still der Sonne Glut Und weiß nicht, was beginnen. — Das macht, es hat die Nachtigall Die ganze Nacht gesungen; Da sind von ihrem süßen Schall, Da sind in Hall und Widerhall Die Rosen aufgesprungen.-- 4 Dream-Crowned Rainer Maria Rilke (1875-1926) That was the day of the white chrysanthemums; I was almost alarmed by their splendour... And then, then in the depths of night you came You touched my soul. I was so anxious, but you came sweetly and gently, Just as I had thought of you in dreams. You came, and softly as in a fairy tale The night resounded.--4 Sueño coronado Rainer Maria Rilke (1875-1926) Ese fue el día de los crisantemos blancos; Casi me alarmó su esplendor ... Y luego, luego en las profundidades de la noche Tú viniste tocaste mi alma. Estaba tan ansioso, pero viniste dulcemente y suavemente, Tal como lo había pensado en sueños. Viniste, y suavemente como en un cuento de hadas La noche resonó. 4 Rêves de couronnes Rainer Maria Rilke (1875-1926) C'était le jour des chrysanthèmes blancs; J'étais presque effrayé par leur splendeur ... Et puis, dans les profondeurs de la nuit Tu es venu tu as touché mon âme. J'étais si anxieux, mais tu es venu doucement et doucement, Tout comme j'avais pensé à toi dans les rêves. Vous êtes venu, et doucement comme dans un conte de fées La nuit retentit.- 4 Corona del sogno Rainer Maria Rilke (1875-1926) Questo era il giorno dei crisantemi bianchi; Ero quasi allarmato dal loro splendore ... E poi, nelle profondità della notte Sei venuto per toccasti la mia anima. Ero così ansioso, ma sei venuto dolcemente e delicatamente Proprio come ho pensato a te nei sogni. Sei venuto, e dolcemente come in una fiaba La notte risuonò. --4 Coroa de Sonho Rainer Maria Rilke (1875-1926) Esse foi o dia dos crisântemos brancos; Eu estava quase alarmado pelo esplendor deles ... E então, nas profundezas da noite você veio Você tocou minha alma. Eu estava tão ansioso, mas você veio docemente gentilmente, Apenas pensei em você em sonhos. Você veio, e suavemente como em um conto de fadas A noite ressoou. --4. Traumgekrönt Rainer Maria Rilke (1875-1926) Das war der Tag der weißen Chrysanthemen, Mir bangte fast vor seiner Pracht... Und dann, dann kamst du mir die Seele nehmen Tief in der Nacht. Mir war so bang, und du kamst lieb und leise, Ich hatte grad im Traum an dich gedacht. Du kamst, und leis‘ wie eine Märchenweise Erklang die Nach--5. Indoors Johannes Schlaf (1862-1941) Autumn sunshine. The pleasant evening looks in so quietly. A small red fire Crackles and blazes in the stove. So! My head on your knee, I am happy; When my eyes dwell on yours, How gently the minutes pass. 6. Ode to Love Otto Erich Hartleben (1864-1905) In the arms of love we blissfully fell asleep. The summer breeze listened at the open window, And carried our peaceful breathing out into the bright moonlit night. And from the garden a scent of roses timidly felt its way to our bed of love And brought us wondrous dreams, Dreams of ecstasy, rich in longing.-- 5. En el interior Johannes Schlaf (1862-1941) Sol de otoño. La noche agradable se ve tan tranquilamente. Un pequeño fuego rojo Crepitaciones y llamas en la estufa. ¡Asi que! Mi cabeza en tu rodilla, Yo estoy feliz; Cuando mis ojos se concentran en los tuyos, Qué dulcemente pasan los minutos. 6. Oda al amor Otto Erich Hartleben (1864-1905) En los brazos del amor nos durmimos felizmente. La brisa de verano escuchaba en la ventana abierta, Y llevó nuestra respiración pacífica a la brillante noche iluminada por la luna. Y desde el jardín un aroma de rosas tímidamente sintió su camino a nuestro lecho de amor Y nos trajo sueños maravillosos, Sueños de éxtasis, ricos en anhelo.-- 5. Ambientazione interna Johannes Schlaf (1862-1941) Sole autunnale La piacevole serata sembra così tranquillamente. Un piccolo fuoco rosso Crepitio e fiamme nella stufa. Così! La mia testa sul tuo ginocchio, Sono felice; Quando i miei occhi si soffermano sui tuoi, Quanto delicatamente passano i minuti. 6. Ode to Love Otto Erich Hartleben (1864-1905) Tra le braccia dell'amore ci addormentiamo beatamente. La brezza estiva ascoltava dalla finestra aperta, E ha portato il nostro respiro pacifico dentro la luminosa notte di luna. E dal giardino un profumo di rose timidamente sentì la sua strada verso il nostro letto d'amore E ci ha portato sogni meravigliosi, Sogni d'estasi, ricchi di desiderio.-- 5. À l'intérieur Johannes Schlaf (1862-1941) Soleil d'automne. L'agréable soirée se passe si tranquillement. Un petit feu rouge Craquelures et flammes dans le poêle. Alors! Ma tête sur ton genou, Je suis content; Quand mes yeux s'attardent sur les tiens, Comme les minutes passent avec douceur. 6. Ode à l'amour Otto Erich Hartleben (1864-1905) Dans les bras de l'amour, nous nous sommes endormis avec bonheur. La brise d'été écoutait à la fenêtre ouverte, Et a porté notre respiration paisible dans la nuit lumineuse de pleine lune. Et du jardin un parfum de roses timidement senti son chemin vers notre lit d'amour Et nous a apporté des rêves merveilleux, Des rêves d'extase, riches en nostalgie. --5. dentro de casa Johannes Schlaf (1862-1941) Sol de outono. A noite agradável parece tão silenciosamente. Um pequeno fogo vermelho Crackles e chamas no fogão. Assim! Minha cabeça no seu joelho Eu estou feliz; Quando meus olhos ficam no seu, Quão gentilmente os minutos passam. 6. Ode ao Amor Otto Erich Hartleben (1864-1905) Nos braços do amor nós adormecemos alegremente. A brisa do verão escutou a janela aberta, E levou nossa respiração pacífica para fora a noite de luar brilhante. E do jardim um perfume de rosas timidamente senti o caminho para a nossa cama de amor E nos trouxe sonhos maravilhosos Sonhos de êxtase, ricos em saudade. --5. Im Zimmer Johannes Schlaf (1862-1941) Herbstsonnenschein. Der liebe Abend blickt so still herein. Ein Feuerlein rot Knistert im Ofenloch und loht. So! Mein Kopf auf deinen Knie‘n, So ist mir gut. Wenn mein Auge so in deinem ruht, Wie leise die Minuten zieh‘n. 6. Liebesode Otto Erich Hartleben (1864-1905) Im Arm der Liebe schliefen wir selig ein, Am offnen Fenster lauschte der Sommerwind, Und unsrer Atemzüge Frieden trug er hinaus in die helle Mondnacht. Und aus dem Garten tastete zagend sich ein Rosenduft an unserer Liebe Bett Und gab uns wundervolle Träume, Träume des Rausches, so reich an Sehnsucht-- 7. Summer Days Paul Hohenberg (1885-1956) Now days sent from blue eternity Stretch over the world; Time drifts by on the summer wind. Now at night the Lord weaves Wreaths of stars with His blessed hand Over the magic land we travel. — O heart, what in these days Can your gayest ramblers‘ song Express of your deep, deep delight? Before the meadows‘ song the heart falls silent: words fail, where image upon image greets you and inspires you.-- 7. Días de verano Paul Hohenberg (1885-1956) Ahora días enviados desde la eternidad azul Estirar sobre el mundo; El tiempo pasa volando en el viento de verano. Ahora en la noche el Señor teje Guirnaldas de estrellas con su bendita mano Sobre la tierra mágica en que viajamos. - Oh corazón, qué en estos días Puede la canción de sus paseantes más alegres ¿Expresas tu profunda y profunda delicia? Antes de la canción de los prados, el corazón se calla: las palabras fallan, donde la imagen sobre la imagen te saluda y te inspira.-- 7. Jours d'été Paul Hohenberg (1885-1956) Maintenant les jours envoyés de l'éternité bleue Étirez-vous sur le monde entier Le temps passe par le vent d'été. Maintenant, la nuit, le Seigneur tisse Couronnes d'étoiles avec sa main bénie Au cours de la terre magique, nous voyageons. - O cœur, quoi de ces jours Peut la chanson de votre plus joyeuses des randonneurs Express de votre profonde, profonde joie? Avant la chanson des prés, le cœur se tait: les mots échouent, où l'image sur l'image vous accueille et vous inspire.-- 7. Giorni estivi Paul Hohenberg (1885-1956) Ora giorni inviati dall'eternità blu Stendi il mondo; Il tempo scorre sul vento estivo. Ora di notte il Signore tesse Ghirlande di stelle con la sua mano benedetta Viaggiamo sulla terra magica. - O cuore, cosa in questi giorni Può la canzone dei tuoi rambler più allegri Esprimi la tua profonda, profonda delizia? Prima del canto dei prati, il cuore tace: le parole falliscono, dove l'immagine sull'immagine ti saluta e ti ispira. --7. dias de verão Paul Hohenberg (1885-1956) Agora dias enviados da eternidade azul Estique-se pelo mundo; O tempo flutua no vento do verão. Agora à noite o Senhor tece Grinaldas de estrelas com sua mão abençoada Sobre a terra mágica nós viajamos. - O coração, o que nestes dias Sua canção mais alegre dos caminhantes Expresse seu prazer profundo e profundo? Antes dos prados "canção o coração fica em silêncio: as palavras falham, onde imagem e imagem cumprimenta e inspira você.-- 7. Sommertage Paul Hohenberg (1885-1956) Nun ziehen Tage über die Welt, Gesandt aus blauer Ewigkeit, Im Sommerwind verweht die Zeit. Nun windet nächtens der Herr Sternenkränze mit seliger Hand Über Wander- und Wunderland. — 0 Herz, was kann in diesen Tagen Dein hellstes Wanderlied denn sagen Von deiner tiefen, tiefen Lust: Im Wiesensang verstummt die Brust, Nun schweigt das Wort, wo Bild um Bild Zu dir zieht und dich ganz erfüllt.

Pausar -15:25 Configuración visual adicional Haz clic para ampliar Reactivar

[ausaplenty]

The torment of dreams

Reed Scuro. Kiara Scuro. Demigod AU. Neither of the Hades children are sleeping well.

The roar of the water pounded in his ears as the waves pushed him away. His lungs burned. His hand closed around nothing.  His eyes stung while he struggled to keep them open to watch her sink deeper and deeper away from him. His vision grew darker as he fought to follow –

Reed bolted upright, gasping for air as if his mind had truly believed he had been drowning. His heart pounded against his chest.

Hermes’ Cabin was dark but it was nothing compared to the black depths of his nightmare. The roaring water had softened, turning into the even breaths of his fellow demigods. The wet that clung to him was his sweat-soaked t-shirt and the tears that stained his face.

Nobody stirred. The son of Hades was alone.

The shadows greeted him as he sank into them, their presence a soothing balm on his frantic mind.

He tugged his shirt over his head, tossing it to the ground, and pressed his palms against his eyes to drag away the traces of tears, stripping himself of the physical reminders of the torment.

There was no way to win against gods and they were quick to humble those who tried. The god of dream was no exception – in fact, Reed would count him among the cruelest of them. In Morpheus’ realm, he had relived the brothers’ atrocities, building up his resolve until the lightning no longer pried a sound from his lips. He had been ripped from his mother’s grasp, closing his eyes as the monster tore her to shreds and then mocked him with its mimicry. He longer struggled and thrashed against the harpies’ talons as they lifted him from the ground, leaving Lilian to drown in the River Lethe.

Reed refused to cower, lifting his chin and willing the Oneiroi to do their worst, for he would not submit.

The shadows hummed as they welcomed another.

He didn’t know if it was because his own power or their bond or her personality, but Kiara would never be silent … not that she would want to be. The daughter of Hades didn’t understand the use of anonymity, forcing him to work 10 times as hard.

She offered him the satchel he kept under his cot. “Another dream?”

The water swirled violently, pulling driftwood and fish into the center of the whirlpool. The boat struggled to free itself from its grasp. It bucked and a startled cry was almost lost in the scream of the engine.

“No!” He could see her against the boat, struggling to keep hold as the waves buffeted them both. He glanced frantically over his shoulder, checking to see if there was anyone watching before using a dark tendril to lash himself to the rail. He stretched over the side as far as he could, his hands inches over hers. “Reach! You can do it!”

Her fingers brushed his, so close – almost! – and then a broken mast slammed her against the boat.

He bit his tongue as her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she lost her grip, falling below the surface. He dove down after her, the dark tether lengthening. Instead of growing darker the deeper they sank, the water transformed, turning silver. He watched as the drowning form shifted, the blonde locks lengthening into brunette waves. Her eyes opened, their sapphire gaze pleading.

He didn’t answer, just took the satchel.

He frowned when his sister sat, her chin resting on her knees and her hands clasped around them. She watched him with their identical stony eyes.

“You shouldn’t have left,” he said gruffly as he donned a new t-shirt. His small collection of crystals rattled in the bottom but Kiara didn’t bat an eye. “Chiron gets suspicious when we’re both gone.”

She gave a small hum of understanding but didn’t move. Obstinate as always.

“Are they getting worse for you too?” she asked quietly. “Not as bad as then but …”

There were two demigods he knew could empathize with the dream god’s torment – and one of them was currently imprisoned by the deity.

He couldn’t count the times he’d been roused by Kiara’s cries. Whatever emotions the day’s arguments had stirred temporarily set aside as he perched on her cot and hushed her sobs. He’d held her tight, carrying her into the shadows when Hermes’ Cabin was too packed for discretion.

“It’s nothing,” he told her, sitting down across from her. “What are you doing up?”

Her hands twitched and he saw a glimpse of something white in her grasp, digging into her fingers.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she explained, a small frown furrowing her brow. He looked closer, seeing the faint beginnings of bags under her eyes. He hadn’t been woken by her in weeks, had that been because she had stumbled upon his early solution of simply not giving the dream god the opportunity.

She wrinkled her nose when she noticed his gaze. “I’m not trying to not sleep, I just – I feel something stirring, like I need to be ready.”

Even in his exhaustion, the admission felt like victory. He spent years preparing, trying to drill the necessity into her ever since she’d arrived at camp, only for it to fall on deaf ears.

He allowed a weak smile. “We’ll be ready, Kiara, whatever comes our way.”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes.

“You’ll be ready, Reed,” she grumbled. “You’ll have something planned and you won’t tell me about it, you’ll just expect me to listen.”

The problem with hiding in the shadows was that there was nothing to temper them. At her accusation, they hissed, the darkness crawling with agitation.

“Which you never do,” he snapped, getting to his feet. His hands curled into fists, nails digging into his palms. “I give you a simple direction and I can’t even trust you –“

“Because you don’t trust me with anything!” Kiara shot back, her grip on whatever was in her hand tightening. “I slipped up once – when I was desperate to save our friend and you booby-trapped – and you’ve shut me out ever since. When you do ‘trust’ me, it’s blind trust. You don’t tell me anything.”

The reference to the time he’d trapped her in the sinking shadows had his hackles raised, almost wishing he could do it again. But she’d grown since then.

“What’s wrong with that? If you trusted me, you’d know that whatever I was doing was to protect us,” he growled, folding his arms over his chest. He glared at her, finding her steely gaze unyielding.

“You’re all about bargains and information. If I asked you to do something with no explanation, would you?” The accusation stung.

There was something in her words that he was unfamiliar with, melding with the tiredness and hurt. Resignation.

Part of him wanted to lie, to say he would, but this felt tenuous. Like stepping further out onto a shaky branch. So he said nothing.

 “Reed, I have complete faith in you – I trust that you’ll have some plan ready, whenever we need it. But I hate being left in the dark.” Her shoulders, tense, sagged slightly. But she lifted her chin, not defeated, defiant. “It’s not fair.”

It was easy to see Kiara as a child. She behaved as one so regularly. In most of their arguments, she would be on her feet, just as reactive. He’d know which buttons to push to get her to storm off, making him the de facto winner. But Reed was nothing if not adaptive.

“It’s not fair to me either, if you expect me to have a plan but then ignore it,” he retaliated, keeping his voice level. “I can’t make up back up plans for my back up plans.”

He had them anyways, but laying all the cards on the table was never a smart gambling plan.

He raked a hand through his hair. “I’ll make a deal with you, Kiara. I’ll tell you why I’m asking you to do something, if you promise to do it.”

The phrasing was vague on his end, deliberately. He knew the value of ambiguity, a lesson creeping up on him like rot in poisoned veins.

“Sounds like a promise,” Kiara grinned, offering her empty hand. He shook it solemnly.

“I wasn’t joking about you not being here, though,” he grumbled. “I don’t need to explain why making Chiron nervous is a bad idea.”

His little sister had sat through fewer of the centaur’s therapy sessions than he had, but she still wrinkled her nose in distaste.

“In celebration of our agreement then,” she said. She stretched out her leg, nudging his foot with her toe. Her hand extended, revealing a semi-translucent white crystal in her palm.

“Selenite.” He took the stone, admiring the way it managed to glow that even in the shadows.

“Gilly says it’s good for warding off nightmares,” she explained, getting up. She wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him tightly until he returned the embrace. “Get some sleep, Reed.”

[ausaplenty]

Stay

Reed Scuro. Nowhere to go.

Demigod AU. 100 words. Hurtcember Day 7 - Abandoned

“There is the matter of where you will go when camp ends,” Chiron said, steepling his fingers as he met the 11-year-old’s gaze across the desk.

Reed stared back with a frown.

He hadn’t left the camp since Felix brought him weeks ago, insisting it was unsafe. He had written James and Kiara, but he had little hope for replies – James because their relationship had always been strained and his sister because she could barely read.

He had nobody.

His thoughts turned to the girl with sapphire eyes and more beads than any camper her age.

“Can’t I stay here?”

[ausaplenty]

Waiting Game

Reed Scuro. Kiara Scuro. After the monster attack.

Demigod AU. 538 words. Hurtcember Day 6 - alt prompt, “don’t leave me”

Of course Kiara would find a way to complicate his plans.

Lilian had once said his sister was a wildcard and, even if the comment had stung at the time, he could admit the accuracy of the statement. Although he was starting to believe it was less unpredictable and more “Do the opposite of what Reed tells me.”

He tells her to leave Moros alone. In every instance, she disobeys.

He instructs her to trust no one. She integrates herself with a group – Mead he could at least see some use out of an alliance, but Cooper?

He orders her not to leave camp. She runs off, chasing dangerous leads and visiting friends.

The note she left him – Gone to see Gilly. Be back Monday. – was almost insulting in its brevity. It had taken a lot to not creep into the camp office and locate Mead’s address, to go drag her back himself. He couldn’t attempt to track Alexa down to rescue her if he was too worried about his sister’s safety. Didn’t she understand how draining it was to split his focus between the two tasks.

Of course she didn’t. She didn’t think of others, just her own wants, and never how they will affect others.

Reed never would have considered himself to be happy for a monster attack. The birds had at least done the difficult job of getting Kiara to stay at camp, though it did handicap him as well. He searched when he could at night, keen to keep his disappearance hidden from Chiron and Kiara.

Not that he needed to worry about his sister at the moment. However hard it might be to avoid somebody in a camp with only two residents, Kiara had done an admirable job of it. He’d gotten back to the cabin after their fight the day Felix had brought her back to find that she’d switched cots, putting herself as far away from him as she could. She woke later, barely making it to breakfast in time. She’d restructured her schedule as much as she could.

She hadn’t talked to him, he’d had to get the official information about the attack from the shadows and from breaking into Chiron’s files.

It was fine. If it was a waiting game she wanted to play, he would win it.

~*~

A quiet whimper drifted through the otherwise silent cabin. Reed was waking from the cat nap he allowed himself before setting off when he heard it. He turned in his cot to peer across the rows of empty beds. He could barely see Kiara, her back toward him.

He frowned at the way her body shook, her mewling increasing until they became full sobs.

“N-no … Reed – don’t – don’t hurt h-h-him,“ she cried, thrashing in her sleep.

With a muttered curse, he rolled out of his bed and hurried to her side. He went to shake her awake but her wild motions stilled when his hand touched her shoulder.

“Hey, it’s fine,” he soothed, crouching beside her. Her hand clasped his and he squeezed it reassuringly. “I’m here.”

He was almost knocked backward with the force of her embrace, her arms wrapped around his neck.

“Don’t l-leave me,” she begged.

[ausaplenty]

Crushing weight

Kiara Scuro. Reed Scuro. Gilbert Mead. Set after the Stymphalian bird attack on Gilly's birthday.

Demigod AU. 1,605 words. For Hurtcember Day 2 - Breakdown.

“Where are y-y-you going?” Her best friend asked sharply, one hand on the doorknob, as he looked at Kiara.

Her heart quickened, her mind racing to conclusions – he wanted her gone, it was her fault after all, that the birds had found them, she’d put his family in danger – while she froze, squeezing between the basement door and the hallway wall.

She held up the painters mask she’d pilfered from the part of the garage her friend hadn’t coopted for his forge yet. “I was gonna ... the birds … they made a mess in your dining room,” she explained hurriedly, stumbling over her words. “I’m cleaning …”

She’d leave, as soon as she was done, she just –

They’d opened their home to her, and she’d screwed it up. Reed had been right, it’d been stupid to come visit Gilly, when it just invited trouble.

“H-hey, it c-c-can w-wait,” he assured her, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze before he held up the first aid. “Mom w-would never f-f-forgive me if I-I-I let you d-do anything before s-s-she made sure y-you were OK.”

They’d been standing there long enough to assure Gilly’s family that it was safe, if the clatter of things moving and people shifting was any indication. A muttered word of confirmation backed Gilly’s argument and a second later, Mrs. Mead was standing at the base of the stairs, one foot lifted to ascend.

“Wait!” Kiara and Gilly demanded in unison, instinctively creating a barrier with their bodies. Mrs. Mead froze, the dim lighting casting shadows on her worried face.

Gilly relaxed slightly, offering his mother a weak smile. “S-s-Stymphalian bird p-p-poop is t-toxic. B-b-basement is s-safest until w-w-we can clean i-it up.”

The words sounded crazy to her ears, out of place outside of camp, but Mrs. Mead only nodded as Gilbert’s father started to open up the small windows to let in air.

“Get your butt down here and let me look you over, then,” she insisted. Her gaze met Kiara’s as she stepped off the stair, stubborn and brooking no argument. “That means you too, Kiara.”

Gilly stepped back, gesturing for her to go first, and she conceded with a small huff, feeling the guilt knot in her stomach. It tightened as Gilly’s parents fussed over her, ignoring her claims that the blood wasn’t hers while they checked her over.

“Thank you, Kiara,” Mrs. Mead said when she was satisfied. “I don’t know what happened, but I have a feeling its not worse because of you.”

The 11-year-old shook her head, trying to cover the way her bottom lip quivered, and tears welled in her eyes. It had only happened because of her.

~*~

Kiara had made the mistake of letting Gilly call Chiron to update him on the situation while she started to clean. Thus, she had to wait for Felix to come pick her up instead of lying about buying a bus ticket.

She didn’t sleep that night, sitting grimly on the bed with one of Gilly’s swords in front of her. The voice in her head that chastised her was Reed’s, telling her she should have never come, that she should have left the second the birds were taken care of, that something could happen at any second … because she’d stayed.

Gilly frowned at her when he saw her, his sandy brown hair tousled from sleep, from his seat at the table. The Meads had covered the broken windows with garbage bags and loaded the broken chairs into their car when they’d sent her up to wash the blood off. “D-d-did you sleep at a-all?”  he asked, as though he hadn’t guessed the answer.

“It’s a long car ride, I’ll sleep then,” she told him, dragging a chair out next to him. Only seconds passed before Mr. Mead plopped plates of pancakes, scrambled eggs and bacon in front of them.

“Breakfasts of champions, for you two,” he told them as he set the syrup and condiments on the table. “Felix called about half an hour ago. He’ll be here in an hour or so.”

She smiled to show her appreciation, trying to set aside her worry before she seemed ungrateful. “Thank you for cooking, sir.”

He gave her a jaunty salute before retreating to the kitchen. The clatter of dishes drifted out to them.

“It’s n-n-not your f-fault.” Gilly nudged her. “Y-y-you’re not th-the only monster m-m-magnet.”

She was just the biggest.

~*~

She could feel Reed’s piercing gaze through the windshield as Felix guided the Delphi Strawberries truck up the path to the Oracle’s house, where he and Chiron waited on the porch. The weight of it made her drag her feet.

“Gilbert informed me that there were no concerning injuries, Kiara, but I am glad to see you are unscathed,” the centaur commented, offering her a soothing smile.

The reminder that Gilly had been the only one hurt stung. She pulled the straps of her backpack tighter across her chest. Reed was standing in the shade of the porch roof, his arms folded over his chest. The hours of inner chastisement she’d inflicted upon herself felt like a mockery of what awaited her. Her fists clenched.

“Unless the wounds you bear are not physical?” Chiron prodded, a slight frown furrowing his brow.

The thought of one of his therapy sessions made her head buzz. She didn’t want to think up a cover at the moment for how so many of the birds had vanished, or how she’d managed to be unharmed. It made her brain throb.

“I’m fine, sir, just tired,” she assured him, avoiding Reed’s eyes. “Can I go to the cabin?”

His face softened. “Of course you may. Remember, both the infirmary and my office are open if you find there were undiscovered effects.”

She made a small noise of understanding before she turned away.

It took Reed about seven of his giant steps from the porch to her side, not bothering to say goodbye to the activities director. They started down the path to the cabins, the muted noise of the forest and their footfalls the only sounds as the tension grew.

Kiara was starting to think she’d avoided the third degree when they reached their empty quarters. But in typical Reed fashion, he was only lying in wait to pounce.

“You were supposed to stay at camp,” he hissed accusatorily, rounding on her. As they had in the months since the quest, her shadows stretched toward him. “Of all the careless, reckless things to do, just because you were lonely –“

Like a tightly strung violin, Kiara’s anger snapped, roaring to life inside of her.

“So I’m supposed to sit here while you go wherever you want?” She spat, dropping her backpack on the ground with a thud. “That’s all you do, Reed. You give me rule after rule and then you ignore them, because its not convenient for you.”

Her brother’s lips twisted into a scowl. The cabin darkened, but Kiara refused to be cowed.

“All I wanted was to see my friend. One of the few people who wants to talk about Lexie and who can relate to how much I miss her – because you turn into an angry lion any time I mention her,” she growled, closing the distance between them. Reed still towered over her and she could feel her shadows shiver with rage, but they stayed at his side, so she jabbed her finger into his chest. “You tell me to leave her alone, and its stupid to send her letters, that I don’t know the danger I’m putting her in –“

The air left her lungs as it felt like her shadows severed their connection to her, pooling around her brother like a cloak.

“And you’re so blind that you think this weekend isn’t evidence of that?” He snarled, a shadow lashing out to fracture the glass in a lantern. “You weren’t hurt, but was Mead so lucky?”

A lump caught in her throat. “It – it wasn’t that bad,” she said, a mantra she’d repeated many times since she saw the gash on his arm.

As always, Reed found a gap in the armor and attacked.

“And before you started visiting, how many times was Mead targeted? He has a sister, yes? Do you even care that you put her in danger?” He circled her, the darkness wrapping around them – humming with hostility. “Of course you don’t. Because you only care about what you want. That’s why Alexa is gone, Kiara, because you couldn’t leave it alone and we have to pay for it.”

Kiara felt the tears on her face and she dashed at them angrily, refusing to look away from her brother’s identical steel gaze. “Is it just me?” she pushed. “LiLi didn’t blame me for being chosen to go on that quest, Reed.”

Reed could blame her all he wanted, but Kiara remembered the rage, the pain, the utter defeat of that encounter, before Ren announced her companions, before LiLi had promised she’d come back.

She knew what fury felt like. She knew how guilt felt.

Her brother glared, practically vibrating with emotions. With a curse, he disappeared into the shadows.

Kiara felt like her body had been using the adrenaline of the conflict as a battery pack, feeding her the energy she needed, but now the juice was gone, leaving only the emotions to flood her veins. With a sob, she threw her backpack to the foot of her bed. Her body trembled as she curled under the blanket and let the guilt and rage seep out through her tears.

[ausaplenty]

Tormented

Reed Scuro. Who definitely isn't traumatized. And is instead being bullied by the god of dreams.

Demigod AU. 555 words. For Hurtcember Day 1 - "Collapse"

It was the Dream God’s fault.

The irritation welled inside him as he picked his sword up from the ground, trying to ignore Kiara’s excited noise at having disarmed him.

He’d been searching for Alexa for weeks, crossing oceans overnight, searching for the island she was imprisoned on, but there was nothing. No crumb to follow, no thread to pull. Just dead ends and stone walls.

And then the dreams started.

The coward never showed himself, just tormented the son of Hades. He warped Reed’s memories, forcing him to relive his failures. His mother’s death. The brothers’ torture. Lilian’s loss. Again and again, driving the knife deeper and deeper with every slumber.

Reed refused to be a god’s plaything.

So he forced himself to break from Hypnos’ grasp before he could enter Morpheus’ realm, existing on micro-naps.

The effects were suboptimal. He’d slipped during training, losing his focus long enough for Kiara to slide her sword alongside his and twist it from his grasp.

At least nobody else at camp was there to witness the slip.

“Again,” he demanded as he shifted his stance and raised his sword to a guard position. Kiara frowned at him, her blade hanging at her side.

“Maybe we should … stop?” Kiara suggested tentatively, chewing on her lip. She looked tired and he remembered that they’d been training for nearly an hour. It made the sting of his mistake worse, knowing that she’d managed to do without being at the top of her game.

He shook his head. “Not until you do that again.”

She didn’t. He made sure of it, unrelenting until Chiron ordered them to stop.

It took three more days before he had another close call, nearly tripping as he lunged forward to take advantage of a gap in Kiara’s defense. He corrected himself in time, twisting his body into a roll as his sister stumbled away from his blow. He pushed her – and himself – harder after that, until she threw her sword down and stormed off.

He was so tired that night when his head hit the pillow that his carefully constructed systems failed. His hands were wrapped around the hilt of a black knife, Ren’s knife, as it pushed through Lilian’s ribs. He couldn’t remove them, no matter how he tried, twisting it as she pleaded for him to tell her why he let this happen, why he was hurting her - why he wouldn’t just kill her.

His eyes stung with tears when he woke up, bed soaked with sweat. Again, he found comfort in the absence of other campers while his heart thudded against his ribcage, a forceful blow that reminded him of the way Lilian’s heartbeat had faded beneath his hands in his dreams.

With a hiss, he grabbed his sword and returned to the training arena. The moon was still low in the sky as he attacked the straw dummy. He almost wished a monster would attack him, to feel like he had power against something.

Growling, he sped up his blows, unleashing a flurry of strikes that tore through the form, severing it piece by piece from its post. He pushed himself until his legs gave out and he collapsed to his knees, his fingers digging into the dirt, his lungs burning as they struggled to take in air.

[ausaplenty]

Birthdays

Gilbert Mead. Kiara Scuro. The Mead family. Reed Scuro. Demigod AU.

Gilly is just really good at noticing details.

Gilly couldn’t stop the grin that stretched across his face as the lights dimmed, drawing his eyes to the chocolate-frosted cake Mom carried and the candles that adorned it. “Happy birthday” filled the air, familiar voices raised in song – and Kiara’s eager notes were a welcome addition.

“I’ve never been to a birthday party before,” she said when he mentioned it to her at the end of her last visit. She raised her gaze to meet his, just a gleam of tears in her eyes before she threw her arms around his neck and laughed giddily. “Thank you!”

Her embrace was strong enough to hurt but Gilly didn’t mind as he returned the hug. “I-it’s not much of a p-p-party,” he said sheepishly, not wanting to get her hopes up. “Just y-you and my family at the science m-m-museum.”

The news didn’t diminish her excitement as she pulled away, spinning away and skipping among the falling leaves.

“Doesn’t matter!” she crowed, grabbing his hands. She spun, her eagerness coaxing a laugh out of him as they whirled through the backyard between the house and the tree fort in the sturdy, ancient oak. “Gilly, I am going to get you the perfect gift!”

He inhaled deeply while Mom set the cake in front of him, screwing his eyes shut as he thought of his wish. Holding it in his mind, he blew out the candles and matched Kiara’s smile.

Her gift was at the top of the small pile at the other end of table, each parcel brightly wrapped.

“You can open them while Mom cuts the cake,” Dad said, pushing them toward Gilly. “Guests first. Kiara, if you want to do the honors?”

He had barely finished the sentence before the demigoddess was pressing the present into Gilly’s hands.

He tore the wrapping away, a small gasp escaping his lips at the framed art. Lilian, leaning against her silver spear, with her hip cocked to emphasize the curves of her body. Her lips curled into a small smile and her sapphire eyes were the most vibrant hue on the page. Kiara’s sketches were normally simple lines, devoid of color, but the soft watercolors made the subject appear more dreamlike, like she was there but untouchable.

“Oooh, who is she?” Sera teased lightly, craning her neck to see the gift.

“Gilly’s muse,” the younger girl explained, her voice just a little shaky with sadness.

“That’s Alexa?!”

He pressed his fingers to the glass, as if it was the only thing separating him from touching the actual subject.

“It’s b-b-beautiful, Kiara –“

Kiara was on her feet the second the windows broke, a stench filling the air. Gilly right beside her, his eyes wide as the metal-winged monster awkwardly climbed through the broken glass, its size hindering its entrance.

“Gilbert?” His mother asked sharply, eyes focused on the window but not seeing the threat. She had shifted her body so she shielded Sera and Dad from the unknown, the cake knife gripped tightly in her hand.

They couldn’t see through the Mist.

Panic warred with planning, his racing heart distracting from his thoughts until he met Kiara’s eyes. They were bright with fear, but he had never seen them so hard – like the steel swords they wielded at camp.

“Run,” she ordered, a pleading note in her voice that shook him.

He didn’t hesitate, herding his family toward the basement as more windows shattered and terrible shrieks filled the air. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure Kiara was behind him, but she had disappeared. Something lashed out, breaking the bulbs and pitching the room in darkness. Only the glow from the porch lights filtered in.

If they were out of the way, he and Kiara could distract the Stymphalian birds and lure them away from the house so his family was safe. He didn’t know how to drive exactly but he was sure he could figure it out enough to give them some protection until they could come up with a plan.

“What is it?” Sera demanded as they ran down the stairs.

“Stymphalian b-birds,” he answered hurriedly. His gaze darted around the room, looking for somewhere he could hide them.

He caught the flash of fear on Sera’s face as the painful memory surfaced, but she quickly schooled her features. He would make sure she was safe. He would protect her.

Dad pulled a folding table away from the stairwell, revealing the little nook. Mom joined him, pushing the paint cans and toolboxes out of the way to clear space until she could tuck Sera into the furthest space and crouch beside her, just enough room for Dad to squeeze in.

He could hear the crashes from upstairs, the bone-chilling cries of the monsters. If he could get to the kitchen, he could bang together pots to disorient them – it wasn’t like the rattle Heracles had been gifted, but it could give Kiara and him enough time to get to the garage.

Gilly gestured for Dad to follow the others, but he shook his head, grabbing a shovel. “I’m not leaving two children alone to face monsters, even if I can’t see them,” he insisted. “I can help –“

“No!” the now-12-year-old interrupted. “Dad, w-w-we have this.”

Mom grabbed Dad’s wrist, only her eyes betraying how worried she was. “They’ll be fine, honey. We’ll call Chiron – that’s the best thing we can do for them.”

Gilly didn’t know how much Chiron could do to help, but the notion was a balm to his worried thoughts. Dad met his gaze and offered the shovel, trading it for Kiara’s gift.

“We’ll have to hurry and finish that forge so you can have some proper weapons at the house,” he muttered before he folded his frame to join Mom and Sera.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Sera ordered before Gilly moved the folding table to shield them. He could hear Mom shifting to get to her phone,

He crept up the stairs, shovel clenched tightly in his hand and opened the door slightly to peer through the crack. He frowned, peering out into the darkness that had descended upon the house.

The basement door was directly across from the garage access and he stared at it. His brow furrowed as he remembered what he had learned at camp – and what he had brought back from it.

The house was filled with a cacophony of screams as three – four – birds took flight, crashing into walls. He could see metal feathers gleaming from where they’d lodged in cabinets and furniture.

His body tensed as a bird screamed and flew through the hall in front of him. Something coiled around its leg, binding it to some unseen point and dragging it back toward the dining room. He could see it struggling in darkness under the table, inky blackness consuming it. Black spikes stretched across the room, radiating from the table as they created flight obstacles and forced the creatures to the ground.

Gilbert knew science. He knew there was no way rational way that darkness was sentient. But he was the son of Hephaestus … there was nothing he could say except that the shadows were alive, imprisoning the threat before it could spread.

He pushed the door open a little wider and started to squeeze out into the hallway. He froze as more glass shattered, away from the chaos in the front of the house. He could hear talons and metal wings scraping the ground.

He glanced toward the dining room, completely certain that even if he couldn’t see her, Kiara was there. With a fortifying breath, he left the basement and raced toward the garage.

Gilly felt a rush of air push by him, followed by a deadly feather whizzing by his ear. His socked feet slipped slightly on the wood floor but he used the shovel handle to steady himself. He winced at the shriek that filled the house and grabbed the car keys off the catchall dish by the door.

“Kiara! Get them to the garage,” he shouted, calling their attention to him as he threw open the door.

He could hear a bird chase him, unable to fly through the door frame and awkwardly hopping on the ground with an angry screech. With a triumphant noise, he climbed into Mom’s car and started the engine. He frantically pressed the volume button as his eyes scanned the space he and Dad had been transforming into a workshop for him. His gaze lit on the bow he had finished weeks ago and the arrows he’d made at camp and smuggled home.

The car rocked as a monster landed on the hood and he grimaced, seeing talons pierce the roof as a second bird followed it. He hit the programming button, pressing until he found the heavy metal station.

His ears hurt as the screaming vocals and electric guitars filled the vehicle and he rolled down the window, letting the noise fill the garage. The bird on the hood shrieked in pain, wings flapping frantically as it took flight and crashed to the ground.

Gilly scrambled out of the car and grabbed his weapon, fingers shaking slightly as he set the arrow.

The shout of warning was lost in the music, his name barely audible in the clamor, but he hissed as a metal feather grazed his arm, breaking the skin.

He whirled, raising his bow just as the monster on the roof of the car was about to launch another volley of feathers before something – a dark rope that seemed to stretch out of nowhere – tethered it to the vehicle. He saw a flash of blonde hair before Kiara leapt onto the trunk, swinging the shovel he’d abandoned at the garage door. The clang of shovel head meeting the bird’s beak added to the chorus, its scream reverberating in the notes.

“I got this one!” Kiara shouted before she jerked her head toward the front of the car, where the other bird was struggling on the ground in a net of dark tendrils while it squawked in fury. He switched his aim, the arrow burying itself in the beast’s breast.

Kiara pummeled the monster with barely contained fury. The darkness in the garage seemed to stretch toward her, black tendrils curling up her legs to anchor her.

Gilly’s fingers shook less as he readied his second arrow, launching it as the bird writhed in pain. It stilled, the arrow through its eye.

His friend, blood sprinkled across her face and torso, sank to her butt, her legs dangling off the trunk and her chest heaving as the adrenaline faded. “Others … flew off,” she hollered over the music.

He ignored the noise and hurried to her side. His eyes scanned her body, looking for any wounds under the carnage.

“Are y-you OK?” he demanded, not finding any obvious marks. He frowned slightly at the thin dark veins that stretched between her and the car before they retreated from his sight.

Kiara nodded and made a small noise of concern while she reached for his arm, gingerly lifting it so she could examine the gash.

She reached for her shirt, tugging at the hem as if to tear it before her brain processed the blood and gore spattered across the fabric. Her hands shook slightly before she balled them into fists and inhaled deeply.

“Gonna have to find a cleaner bandage,” she joked wryly, giving him a weak smile that didn’t reach her eyes. She nodded toward the house. “I’d hate for your family to think I didn’t take care of you.”

~*~

Gilly never had hands meant for sports, when he was at school, and even if it was easier than the balls at PE, the heavy hammer his siblings wielded wasn’t as natural for him. No, his fingers were quick and nimble, meant for fitting cogs and screws inside smaller projects. Or for braiding leather.

The silk threads he started with reminded him of the tiny veins that had stretched toward Kiara on the trunk of Mom’s car, fighting against a force that tried to restrain them but couldn’t quite manage. His multitudes were more vibrant, but more pliable with a deliberate turn of his fingers, adding to the weft.

He sent his first completed braid to Kiara, the steely blue threads woven with a sapphire vein that reminded him of Alexa and Kiara’s eyes. It felt right, to gift her the foundations of his grand design. He’d grinned at her response – the letter gushing about how happy she was to receive it and a drawing of the bracelet adorning a wrist as the hand it was attached to was poised over a sketch book, layering the image over and over as the scale reduced. A week later, her letter included a bracelet – a hazel core threading through a dominant sapphire weave.

It had barely left his wrist since, only carefully removed when it was at risk of getting wet.

He’d tried to cajole Kiara into coming to visit, but he could feel the guilt in her denials, joking about how his parents had probably just finished fixing the windows from her last sleepover.

“Reed ‘s probably right about the danger of two demigods hanging out together outside of camp. Wouldn’t want to stink up your house.”

He wasn’t normally one for insults, but some uncomplimentary terms had been thought about the older Scuro that night. Kiara was feeling bad enough after the summer, she didn’t need any more grief over something she couldn’t control.

Before Christmas, he’d graduated to adding dimension to his braids, no longer just a flat plait, and using leather cords. He’d shown Kiara the technique on thread when Mom had driven him to camp for a weekend while the rest of the family enjoyed a musical and some holiday shopping. He’d left with a bracelet that matched the newest one tied around the demigoddess’s wrist – and a bag surreptitiously heavy with some of the more unusual materials he would need for the project.

 The leather strips reminded him of Kiara, in some ways. Stubborn and unyielding until they were properly treated. It took him weeks to perfect the technique.

“Are you going to cosplay as Indiana Jones at some convention I don’t know about?” Sera teased as she wrapped the bullwhip he’d made in a neat circle between her elbow and thumb. The braids were too loose to be a decent whip.

He gave a small chuff, distracted by trying to fix the leather core to the steel spike of his next attempt. A dull crack snapped him out of his reverie and he twisted to glare at Sera over his shoulder.

She grinned. “Can I have this? I could be Catwoman for Halloween.”

He didn’t have to make much of an argument to convince Mom to let him go to camp in March, especially after she’d watched him hone his craft to be worthy of a gift and she felt her own measure of guilt about not being able to convince Kiara that she was welcome.

In the end, only Chiron and Mr. D – who had grumbled about it being his vacation – knew he was coming for the weekend. He’d contemplated asking Mom if she could grease Mr. D’s palm a little bit with a bottle of wine as a ‘gift’ before he’d decided that it wasn’t worth drawing Zeus’ ire.

Now he climbed out of the car as soon as Mom put it in park, waving over his shoulder to acknowledge her words about speaking with Chiron before she left while he followed the footpath to the training arena.

Camp felt quiet and unnatural when demigods weren’t there to fill it with sound. As if summoned by the memory of a divine farewell, he stifled a yawn. He half expected to crest the hill and see bodies sprawled on the ground, their chests rising and falling with even, peaceful breaths. Instead, the sound of metal clashing greeted him and he found the Scuros circling each other.

He stilled, caught up in the frustration and tension the pair radiated.

When he had first come to camp and realized what Kiara and Reed were – true sibling, an uncommon feat even among the full gods – he’d been struck by how close they were. Kiara had clung to her brother like a shadow, enveloped in the aura of protection and aggression he exuded. It wasn’t until the quest that she’d tugged at the reins he held until his absence had unleashed her.

Ever since, it felt like Reed was struggling and desperate for the control he once had. He barked at her, their matched tempers clashing until one of them stormed off.

Reed Scuro liked secrets. He guarded them, clutched them to his chest – the entire camp knew that he ventured beyond the limits regularly, trading errands for favors and knowledge. They just didn’t know how. If he was Hermes’ son, had he inherited his father’s speed to carry him past threats so fast they never even registered his presence? If he were Ares’, did his father’s rage embolden him to strike first and mercilessly?

Reed wouldn’t like to hear it, but he’d been just a responsible for Gilly’s realization as Kiara was. The dark tendrils that had snaked their way through Gilbert’s house in October felt like the aura that had clung to the brother as they hurried to the beach near the end of camp. It screamed protection, danger and rage.

Looking down at the sparring siblings, Gilly could see the traces of his power. Small cracks that leaked through his frustration, that tugged Kiara’s natural shadows minutely toward him.

Reed’s eyes flicked toward him and there was a slight snarl that curled at his lip before he schooled his features and attacked. His sword flew through the air, moving as easily as if it were attached to him.

Kiara didn’t back down, raising her shield to block the blow. He bore down, forcing her toward the ground before she rolled away. Reed shifted flawlessly to strike again, aiming for her right side so she had no choice but to parry and he struck, twisted his weapon to dislodge hers from her grip. It clattered to the ground and Kiara lowered her torso, guarding herself with her shield as she barreled toward Reed.

“Enough,” Reed snapped as he stepped out of her path. He nodded toward Gilly. “You’ve got a visitor.”

The younger one whirled, her face splitting into a grin as she caught sight of him.

 “Gilly!” She struggled to unarm herself as he closed the distance between them. “You didn’t tell me you were coming!”

Finally unencumbered, she threw her arms around him and squeezed him close.

He shifted so his present wouldn’t get damaged in the embrace and returned the hug. “Th-that would ruin the s-s-surprise.”

With a laugh, she tugged him to the trees so they could sit in the shade. There were patches of wildflowers littered around the arena, their grass making a soft cushion to rest.

The tension that had coiled around her during the fight had dissipated, her muscles as loose as her smile.

“M-mom brought me for the w-weekend,” he explained cheerily. “B-birthday visits should be a t-t-tradition. We c-can have a h-h-halloween party w-when you come for m-mine.”

Her joy dimmed slightly, her smile wavered, but he set the brightly adorned gift in her lap before she could protest. He’d persuade her to return eventually.

“H-happy birthday!” he announced, gesturing for her to open it.

The happiness returned as she peeled the curly ribbon off the top and stuck it on his head with a laugh. She tore off the wrapping and lifted the lid of the watch giftbox he’d recycled from Dad’s Christmas present. With an awed gasp, she lifted the braided leather bracelet from its cotton nest.

“Gilly – this is beautiful!” she gushed as she gushed as she admired the strip of sapphire that served as the center, a straight line with almost black cords twisting around it. She wrapped it around her wrist, settled below the thread bracelets he’d started with.

“T-that’s not all.” He helped her adjust the steel bead to close it, the excess leather extending to her palm. He gestured to the strands. “P-p-pull those twice.”

It had been easier to make than Alexa’s spear, simply because the material hadn’t had to make as much of a transformation to become the whip’s 8-foot length instead of the spear’s solid core.

Kiara’s eyes were wide and gleaming with unshed tears as she examined the gift. “Y-you made this for me?! Gilly, I –“

He grinned excitedly and gestured toward the archery dummies on the other side of the arena.

“Try it!” he urged, eager to see her reaction to its use. He trailed after her as she ran toward the new opponent, the whip curled in her palm.

She adjusted her stance, her center solid and firm as she raised her arm. The whip flowed naturally, an extension of her reach as it snapped out and struck the dummy’s torso – not as forcefully as it could have, but she pulled it back and tried again, bits of straw flying into the air.

Gilly beamed as she turned toward him, her smile wide and her eyes wet with tears.

“Gilbert Mead, you are fantastic,” she told him solemnly before she laughed and pulled him into a bone-crushing hug.

[ausaplenty]

The second blow

Demigod AU. Alexa Myers. Kiara Scuro. Reed Scuro. Ryan Cooper. Morpheus.

All Kiara wants is to be Lilian's friend.

Alexa flinched at the grasp around her wrist, the hands that pressed the compact into her own and the weight of the object.

Falling. Plummeting. The air rushing around her as she stared at a gray ceiling. Fear. Terror.

She stared at the girl in front of her, full of fury and sadness, without seeing her – the child’s emotions a tsunami crashing against her, dragging her down into the undertow.

And then hope.

“You WILL bring that back to me, understand?” The child spoke with fierce conviction, as if sheer stubbornness would bend the world to her whims, as if the gods would dare to defy her.

Her body convulsed, the memories piercing her mind like the axe that had split Zeus’s head to birth Athena, and she struggled to breath, each shallow gasp a sharp stab to her ribs.

A mother’s kiss, a comfort they both were robbed of from their own – one by death, the other by indifference.

Thin dark tendrils crawled up her forearm, minute thorns that – to Alexa’s panicked eyes – called to mind a larger rot, a sickness that consumed and refused to heal.

“L-LiLi?” The name sounded so small in the girl’s mouth. Regret. Fear.

I didn’t mea-I’m sorry – please. don’t. I didn’t mean to hurt you.

Kiara’s steel gray eyes were wide as Alexa met them, before darkness consumed her vision.

She felt as if she was sinking, her body heavy and dense, in a lake that was unendingly deep. She didn’t know how far she sank, but she awoke with a gasp on obsidian ground at a river’s edge, a silvery mist rising above it. Her camp t-shirt, dirty and torn, was soaked with blood. Her shoulder burned with pain and her eyes screwed shut as her lips parted in an agonized silent scream.

“Silence and discretion don’t have a definite timeline.”

A man – no, a boy who bore so much anger and hatred and power that it threatened to drown her – stared at her, his intelligent eyes trying to piece the puzzle together. Reed.

“It lasts until one of us dies. I wasn’t careful … that’s why this won’t go away.”

His face was different from the one she knew. In the burgeoning cracks in his mask, she could see his fear and pain and animosity. Not the guilt and anger that peeked through the façade she knew, controlled and terrible.

Lilian had died. Drowned in the depths of the River Lethe until its water had purged the disease from her vessel and then spat her out on the banks of a new hell.

Her head ached terribly, pain roaring like a hungry lion as she whimpered and begged for it to stop.

“I will have this as long as there is a secret to keep.”

Suddenly she was in the water, fighting to keep her head above the surface as the river threatened to pull her below.

Reed shifted before her, his eyes darkening from the cold steel that rang with protectiveness and fury to a terrible black void that spoke of chaos. He grew, the aura surrounding him billowing with might as a god stood before her.

“I-I-I don’t – I don’t re-m-m-member,” she sobbed, her tears adding to the river as she fought against the current. “I don’t know what – I don’t know any secrets!”

The water was a moat around a mountain, circling a towering throne wrought out of skulls and bones. The chilling and oppressive weight of not-Reed’s gaze forced her down, her lungs filling as she sank deeper into the bottomless basin – her mind burned as her lungs did, erasing every last detail and essence of herself until she surrendered to the darkness and ceased her struggles. The last thing she saw was a god, staring down at her with his uncaring visage.

~*~

“You did what?!” Reed asked incredulously, annoyance etched across his face as he glared at his sister. “I’m gone for one day and you —“

“I didn't mean to!” Kiara interrupted, wrapping her arms around herself as she rocked back and forth on her feet. “I-I-I lost control.”

He could feel the darkness pooling around him, Kiara’s own shadows stretching out toward him as he struggled to maintain his composure.

“I should have stayed back, but s-she was fighting with that one daughter of Ares and it looked like she was g-gonna get hurt,” the blonde continued, practically trembling with guilt as the tears flowed. “She said so-something and s-she called me a child.”

Reed dragged his hand down his face. “Because you are one, Kiara, and this only solidifies the impression.”

This was why he had to do everything, because his sister was too young and sheltered to realize that not everything fell into place. She liked to think she could will everything she wanted into submission but she didn’t consider how much he had to manipulate and work to ensure the outcomes that he wanted, from guaranteeing that she arrived at camp safely to pulling the strings to avoid the disastrous quest. That had spiraled into an even worse mess because of her inability to listen to him. One day, he wasn’t going to be here to clean up after her.

Kiara wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand and opened her mouth to protest but he didn’t give her the chance.

“You’re hurt, Kiara, and you miss LiLi, but you need to be careful,” he chastised, pinching the bridge of his nose. “She’s not the same person who left on the quest and you’re trying to make her remember things that are painful.”

His shadows were calmer, though there was still an undercurrent of annoyance like the twitching of a cat’s tail.

“But she spends time with you!” his sister whined, her lower lip trembling. “She tells you things!”

Reed almost groaned at the childish envy, a hint of regret that he’d even told her – he’d fed her a thread of the truth and she latched onto it and pulled, desperate for more, with no consideration that she might be severing a tenuous string.

“I’m not running around giving her blessed objects,” he retorted, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder, to impress upon her his point.

The blonde jerked away, some of her sorrow leeching into anger. “How am I supposed to know if I’m doing something wrong if you won’t tell me anything that happened?”

He could feel her shadows resisting him, not a rebellion but a reaction to her emotion, and he inhaled slightly, reigning them in.

She didn’t understand. She thought things would be better if she knew, that she could help, but he knew better. She was too young to comprehend the despair and agony that their father had wrought on their friend. It would only hurt her, could hurt Lilian if Kiara let too much slip.

“I’m protecting you,” he answered, his tone as steely as their shared eyes. “The both of you. I’m not doing this – all of this - out of spite, Kiara, but out of necessity.”

She glowered at him. “I don’t need to be protected,” she insisted stubbornly as she stamped her foot.

“Fine,” he snapped, folding his arms. “However, I’m not telling you anything while LiLi is still fragile. You either need to control yourself or keep your distance, or you’ll end up hurting her more than you already have.”

~*~

Kiara spent the next day lurking, hidden from sight but never from mind, as she fretted over the damage she’d caused. When physical, she flitted through Alexa’s line of sight like a butterfly, her gaze itching and brief as if it would hurt to get caught.

Not that Alexa needed to see her to catch her.

She heard – felt - the 11-year-old everywhere. Her worry, her guilt, everything. Her only respite in the day that passed since she’d woken up in the infirmary was the night, when Kiara had dutifully trundled off to bed with her cabin mates. She hadn’t stayed there, not by her thoughts, but she hadn’t bothered Alexa.

Not that the solace had been useful.

The dream, vision, memory that had followed Kiara’s confrontation had cracked a dam, a fissure that seeped into her mind. Phantom pain tugged at her shoulder, a whisper of something more putrid and damned. Sparring with Valerie had left her panicked and shaky, the daughter of Ares’ attacks layering with memories of fangs and talons sinking into her, of cradling bodies – she knew them, their faces etched in memory and silver – ripped to shreds. She stumbled through the forest to the overlook Reed had taken her, leaving Valerie to her concern and her worried insults until the chaotic thoughts and emotions of Camp Half Blood’s occupants were muted by distance. Most of them.

Kiara inched closer, appearing among the trees as if she was a forest nymph instead of a demigod. She didn’t lurk like her brother did, seeming to blend into the darkness, more like she was spit out – a sudden beacon of worry and alarm whose stony eyes fractured the dam further.

A boy – a man – glowing with power, his hands on her face as she drowned in guilt and sorrow and failure. He was never in focus, obfuscated by her pain, but she could feel his eyes on her. Could feel his power on her as heavy as his palm on her shoulder, dark veins carrying pain and death through her body until it was too much. Too painful.

“Leave me alone,” Alexa demanded through sobs, tree bark pressing into her palm as she screwed her eyes shut against the pain.

Monstrous women with blood-stained fangs and blackened claws, her spear piercing their bodies as they screamed in rage and pain. The same sense of uselessness that radiated from Kiara now. It wasn’t her memory.

Her eyes shot open, staring into Kiara’s as the girl reached forward, her hands almost on Alexa’s shoulders

“Haven’t you hurt me enough?” she mewled, nearly doubled over. “Please – please stop hurting me.”

The accusation pierced Kiara’s memories and she flinched, faltering slightly before she lunged forward.

Alexa recoiled as the blonde embraced her, her arms tight and suffocating around her waist. She wasn’t as small as Alyson, but the hug felt familiar, a promise that transcended realms.

“Li-Alexa,” Kiara whispered vehemently, her voice cracking. The words were muffled by the way she had pressed herself against the daughter of Athena. “I have never wanted anything less. I-I … I just want you to rem-remember me.”

Darkness. Somebody crying as she tried to ignore them, until the tiny sniffs turned into slumbering breaths in the cool night air. A sense of glee that didn’t belong to her but was so infectious that she scowled to cover up the way a smile tugged at her lips. A place so pitch black she couldn’t see but she could feel the surprise and the want.

“I’m bringing you back to Kiara,” the glowing figure told her, trying to sound confident but not completely able to mask the desperation.

She couldn’t hold back the cry of pain as her shoulder burned from the inside, as if her very blood was trying to poison her. She shoved Kiara away, panting for breath as she sank against the tree. Her fingers dug into the earth as she tried to ground herself, trying not to get swept away in the memories and emotions.

Tears streamed down her face, soaking her shirt. Warm. Wet. Like blood that seeped through a dirtied orange tee – she looked down and she could swear she could see the hole in her chest, looked up and could see terrified gray eyes.

“Li-Lexie,” Kiara pleaded, her hands out, hoovering, desperate to help but terrified of hurting her. “Wh-what’s going on? Please – please, tell me how I can help.”

The ground shivered around the daughter of Athena, no longer a forest floor but gray cliffs that fractured with power. She shut her eyes against the pain, her ears not recognizing the pitiful mewls as her own.

An angry bellow filled the clearing and she gasped as tiny hands squeezed her shoulders, nails biting her skin. Her eyes flew open, adrenaline clouding her vision.

“W-we need to go,” A child’s tiny voice insisted frantically, barely speaking above a whisper. She winced as another monstrous cry reached them. The child ducked under Alexa’s arm, sliding her arm around the teenager’s waist to bring her to her feet. “C’mon, p-please – Lexie, move!”

Alexa obeyed, her motions sluggish as her brain tried to work through the trauma. Her eyes darted frantically around, still too blurry to see anything, but she could see a hulking figure blocking their path as it trudged closer to where they’d just been, its reddish-brown coat shining in the setting sun.

The girl under her arm froze and for a moment, the head tucked so close to her chest wasn’t blonde, but the same shade of brown as hers. The girl pivoted, turning away from the beast, “Hurry. This way –“

The beast lifted its head, grunting as it sniffed the air.

Alexa could feel the girl’s fear, crashing against her in waves as it added to her own rampant emotions, practically drowning her. She fought against it, to force it all back so she could just think –

“I just found them. I just –“

The girl at her side was so small, so young, she couldn’t let her get hurt –

She stumbled, almost dragging the girl down with her. Her hand flew to her pocket, her fingers tangling with the wire as she drew it out. It straightened and she dug the butt of it into the ground to support herself as she shoved the girl in front of her, away from the monster.

Her vision was almost back to normal, and she realized it wasn’t Alison, but Kiara – who never looked so small and scared in her short memory.

That wasn’t right.

She remembered a tiny frame against hers, crying so hard her body spasmed with hiccoughs, in darkness. She remembered an overwhelming terror.

The blonde grabbed for her free hand, determined to pull her away from the danger. “Li-Lexi, wha-“

“Get help,” Alexa ordered sharply, standing straighter. “We can’t – we can’t outrun it and we can’t let it get back to camp. I’ll distract it –“

The beast bellowed and thundered toward them, the undergrowth shaking with the might of its hooves. Alexa pushed Kiara to the side and darted in the other direction, just out of reach of the monstrous horns as it tossed its head.

Her speared lashed out, buried itself against the monster’s ribs – and did nothing, just uselessly stayed there until Alexa realized the flaw and hurried to put some distance between herself and the beast, drawing it further from the blonde.

She met wide gray eyes as the bull turned. “Get out of here, Kiara!” she shouted before she ran, the ground shaking as the monster followed her.

Her hand was tight around her spear as she fled, trying to think of anything that she could do if her weapon failed to puncture the beast’s hide. This wasn’t like a human or demigod opponent – no thoughts that she could detect that would aid or no way to tell where it was other than the quaking steps behind her.

She sped through the trees, her mind racing as she struggled to remember the geography of the camp. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a mighty tree, with a thick trunk and gnarled roots that spread out from it. She ran toward it, a risky plan forming in her mind.

Her feet flew over the roots and she launched her spear at the tree, burying itself several feet from the base. She ran beneath it and paused, her chest heaving as she caught her breath and waited, trying to push through the alarm and anxiety that seeped into her brain.

She forced her body to stay loose as she watched the bull turn, its dim blue-gray eyes landing on her with an angry snort. Its lips spread wide, revealing jagged teeth in its wide mouth, made for piercing and shredding flesh. It tossed its head with a bellow, before lowering its sharp horns and charging toward her.

Alexa shifted her stance slightly as it neared, picking up speed that it would never be able to redirect even if it realized the threat.

“LiLi! NO!” A terrified voice screamed.

The brunette jumped, her fingers scrabbling to find her spear so she could lift herself up –

The bull bellowed in rage and pain, but didn’t crash into the tree like she’d expected. With a determined grunt, she pulled her body up, muscle memory easing the moves as she swung herself up to the next closest sturdy branch and twisted to look down at the ground.

A black tendril was wrapped around the bull’s neck, halting its path as it thrashed against the leash that led to one small, blonde girl. More dark cords reached up from the ground as Kiara’s sweat-dotted brow furrowed in determination, her heels digging into the earth as she shifted and crouched so low that she fell to the ground. The shadows of Alexa’s perch and the surrounding trees lengthened, pooling around the beast as the black vines wrapped around the beastly bovine and constricted. They pierced its hide, rivulets of blood darkening its coarse hair.

Her thoughts zeroed in on the dark tendrils, feeling as if they were biting into her own flesh. She felt the ghost of blood running down her throat, of tiny needles pricking her arms and a suffocating grasp around her body as she was whipped about.

The monster screamed at the base of her tree, dragging Kiara closer until she pulled herself onto its back. A black vine wrapped around the beast’s snout, muffling its cries until the forest was practically silent. The blonde dug her fingers into the beast’s hide and pushed, slowly sinking herself and the bull deeper into the inky pool.

Alexa’s breaths quickened, her mind calling up the images of a boy struggling against shadows, feral growls and cries echoing on a stony precipice as panic and helplessness filled her body, choking her as surely as the black tendril around her throat.

She cried out as the bull and Kiara disappeared, consumed by the shadows.

The bark bit into her skin as she climbed down the tree and crumpled at its base, staring at the vacant spot that held no hint of a black sinkhole it had become. Her body trembled and she closed her eyes against the onslaught of memories, shoving them down instinctively because she could feel their poison, seeping into her body.

She jumped slightly and gasped as a small pair of arms wrapped around her comfortingly, a warm, cautious embrace.

“Told you … to get help,” she heaved. She straightened, shrugging off the girl’s embrace.

She could see and feel the flash of hurt in Kiara’s eyes, but there was no remorse – this wasn’t something she could be guilted over, not when she was convinced she was in the right.

“I’m a terrible listener,” Kiara said with a dry sarcasm that instantly brought her brother to mind. Her body sagged with exhaustion, her hair damp with sweat and her pale skin tinged with a sickly green undercast. She was struggling to stay upright, weakly plopping down on an exposed root, but her eyes never left Alexa’s.

“I-I can’t risk losing you again, Lexie,” she vowed with a shaky breath, “not when I can do something about it.”

The Scuros were dangerous. Every fiber of her being screamed it, the warning echoing in her bones and carried in her blood. She couldn’t ignore that, especially not now – after a display that felt unfamiliar and simultaneously powerfully connected to something she had witnessed before.

Except Kiara’s pledge rang with pure sincerity, a quiet admittance that she needed to change and a solemn promise to try, if only so that she could call the daughter of Athena a friend again. Alexa might not remember her life before, but she knew this girl – exhausted from the strain of protecting her – and her brother were inexplicably indelible from her life.

“Kiara is waiting for you,” the man insisted, power obscuring his face.

She grit her teeth as a wave of nausea overtook her. She braced herself against the tree, the rough bark biting into her palm. She heard Kiara’s intent to approach and recoiled, her hand lashing out to create a barrier. “Don’t t-t-touch me,” she whimpered, her vision swimming.

Fingers trailed down the column of her throat, the touch following a trail of sickness and decay that coursed with divine power.

“She’s indebted to him now,” a cold, haughty voice said, cutting through the pain. The words rang with desire – but not carnal. A sadistic need to see her suffer, to hurt the boy who struggled against his power and threatened his goals.

Her knees buckled and protested as she fell to the forest floor, her fingers digging into the dirt as her shoulder screamed in pain, echoing her own wail.

“You thought you were going to be the hero,” Reed – not Reed, a pale darkhaired boy with dead brown eyes and a vice grip on the darkness that forced her to see Reed supplicant on the ground to his might.

She couldn’t be the hero. Not when it was her fault. Her fault they were going to fail this quest. Her fault they were dead. Her fault her fault herfaultherfaulther.

A hand gripped her shoulder and she screamed in agony, disease and rot ricocheting up the limb.

She could hear somebody’s frantic cries, layered over her own pained sobs. Tiny black tendrils – miniscule facsimiles of the vines that she’d watch swallow a monster – were etched on her flesh like toxic veins, pumping poison to her heart.

A cold, vicelike hand on her throat – too large to be Kiara’s, too cruel to be Reed’s, too powerful to be Desmond’s (Desmond Desmond Desmond – who was he? Why did his name burn on her tongue like she was forbidden to speak it) – that terrified her less than the black, evil eyes she stared into.

“Clever demigod. I swear on the River Styx.” An unbreakable oath. The memory blossomed with relief before it was tainted, the stench of trickery fouling it.

She remembered the grasp fading, but it didn’t now, something hidden suffocating her and crushing her windpipe with its weight.

“I… w…win…” she murmured, meeting gray eyes that were wide with horror as she stepped back, back, back.

But she hadn’t. Because when you play games with the Gods, there was no winning.

There was only losing less.

“L…Lex…Lexie,” a tiny voice sobbed beside her, desperately shaking her as if doing so would prevent the inevitable. “N-no-no, p-please…”

~*~

Kiara pulled Lexie closer, the teen’s head tucked in the crook of her neck as she convulsed in the blonde’s grasp.

“W-wake up, L-l-exie … please,” she pleaded, tears streaming down her face. They splashed down, dampening the brunette hair, and Kiara frantically wiped at her nose at the thought of soiling the teen’s beauty.

Alexa’s head lolled back against Kiara’s arm, her face contorted in pain as her body went limp, dead weight in Kiara’s lap. The blonde wailed in grief, her sobs echoing in the clearing. The noise drowned out the clamor of somebody racing toward her, garbed in armor and wielding swords as they shouted. One of them sheathed their weapon as he crouched in front of her.

She cried harder when he clasped her shoulder with one hand and tried to slide an arm around Lexie to take her weight from Kiara.

“No!” she screamed, her shadows starting to lash out before they recognized Ryan and recoiled, comforted by his presence.

He’d take care of Lexie, better than she could, evidently. With a sob, she eased her grip, but he gave her a gentle, comforting squeeze.

“Kiara – what happened? Are you hurt?” he questioned, his normally confident voice colored slightly with concern. “Somebody thought they heard a monster.”

The blonde nodded. “I… I don’t know what … what happened…” she blubbered piteously, meeting his gaze. “W-we were … hiding from a bull-thing, a-and the next thing I-I-I knew … she was c-crying and –“

Her gut twisted at the half-truth, but it seemed to satisfy Ryan.

“You’re alright though?” he pressed, nodding at his partner. She recognized him from the Hermes cabin – a demigod who could move so fast it was like he could teleport. When Kiara gave a small, jerky nod to indicate she wasn’t hurt, Ryan lifted Lexie into his arms and stood.

Her cabinmate offered his hand to her with a warm smile, squeezing comfortingly as she took it. Her legs were shaking when she stood and she stumbled, exhaustion overtaking her and sending the world spinning until she passed out.

~*~

Kiara stared at Reed’s prone form through the glass surface, her hands pressed against it as she tried to break through it. She could only watch as one man rushed to the other’s side, handing him a towel as the bleeder shoveled something into his mouth, his hands shaky.

The child peered closer, a small gasp on her lips at the sight of the small burns decorating Reed’s body. Storm clouds roiled above her, darkening the sky in a way that made her skin crawl – not friendly darkness, but lethal, unpredictable.

The uninjured one circled Reed, kicking the teen so hard Kiara could hear the thud on the patio. She winced, her fists beating on the glass.

“You insist on trying, little one, when you know it is fruitless,” a familiar voice mused. Kiara whirled to see the redheaded man who’d stood at her side as she watched the Arae attack LiLi.

Her fists clenched and she lifted her chin defiantly. “You’re a jerk,” she declared, speaking with such conviction that it drew a warm chuckle from the god.

“There is something to be set about putting the cart before the horse, child,” he retorted convivially as he gestured back to the window. “This is a gift.”

She looked back to watch the younger man wrench her brother’s arms back, cuffing his wrists so tightly that Kiara could see his shoulders strain. Reed’s ankles were next, shackled with just a few links of chain between them so he was truly hobbled.

The blonde whimpered as the man attacked Reed, his fists pummeling the beaten youth in the face and ribs. His companion looked on, the towel on his neck getting wetter and darker with blood.

“How is this a gift?” she demanded, glaring at the god. “I’m supposed to just sit here and watch –“

“How could you let him get the jump on you like that?” the violent one growled, glaring at the injured man, though he watched him eat with concern. He started to pace, sparks following in his wake.

Kiara’s eyes darted between the demigods and the logo emblazoned on the wall, a familiar symbol she recalled from a building where they’d found LiLi’s backpack. Her head swiveled back to the god.

“They’re forbidden children. Like –“ Her mouth clamped shut before she spilled their secret.

The god’s lips twitched minutely, not acknowledging her near slip.

 Her eyes widened as the second realization struck. Reed’s fury, his references to revenge. She scowled at the god of Dreams. “They’re the ones who hurt Li-Lexie.”

He nodded.

“I take it back,” she muttered, turning back to the window. “You’re a mega jerk.”

She could hear him chuckle but she ignored him, wincing as she watched Reed wake up and acknowledge his pain. Kiara saw the idea form in his mind as his gaze shifted between the brothers. Grim pride flooded her, warring with the growing sense of foreboding that something terrible was nearing, like it had before when she’d watched Lexie vanish beneath the water’s surface.

Her vision whited out briefly as lightning filled the room, Reed’s tortured scream drowning out the crack of it and momentarily the thunder that followed. She screamed as he slumped forward, his muscles convulsing as smoke wafted from his body.

She slammed her fists against the window, crying in frustration as they failed to even chip the glass. The blonde snarled as Morpheus stilled her onslaught.

“The gift, Kiara Scuro, is that this hasn’t happened yet,” the redhead told her, pulling her away from the barrier. She winced as she heard a grunt of pain, knowing there was only one person in peril. “This will happen, unfortunately, but your brother’s fate hasn’t yet been sealed. You can stop this. If you leave now.”

Light filled her sight, but she couldn’t tell if it was part of the dream or the demigods’ power.

Kiara jolted upright, her heart racing. Her breath escaped her lungs in short gasps and she struggled to calm down as she took in the infirmary, veiled with the usual gauze canopy. Her gaze settled on Lexie, her face screwed up in pain and her body twitching as she lay curled up on the cot.

She’d promised Reed she would look after Lexie and all she’d done was fail. She’d struck the first blow, but she’d been unable to stop the second, despite how hard she tried.

He needed her. She couldn’t lose him, not so soon after getting him back.

The blonde clenched her jaw and slipped into shadows, racing to the forge. Her hand shook as she scribbled a message on a back page of her pocket sketchbook and ripped it out. She tucked it under a small contraption she knew was at the top of his priorities list, where he was sure to find it when he snuck out of the Hephaestus cabin to tinker before breakfast.

Protect Alexa. It read, a command she knew he would fulfill without hesitation.

[ausaplenty]

Safe Haven

Reed Scuro. Tabitha Scuro. Felix the Satyr. Demigod AU

“Sweetheart, please come out.” His mother lifted the bed skirt slightly to peer beneath the bed, scanning the space until she saw the five-year-old boy laying flat on his stomach, chin resting on his folded arms. “I know you’re upset, honey, but –“

“I don’t want you to marry him!” Reed protested, curling away from his mother’s outstretched hand. “He doesn’t like me!”

“Reed! Where did you get that idea?” The blonde woman paused, concern evident in her gray eyes. “Did something happen?”

The child’s lower lip stuck out, quivering slightly. “I just know.”

His mother frowned but stopped trying to pull him out from his safe haven. Just in case, Reed scooted back as far as he could, twisting so his back was against the wall. “I don’t need a daddy, mama, please –“

“I know you don’t, Reed, but this … this isn’t about you. I – I need –“ She closed her eyes, staving off the tears that threatened to escape. “I need to tell you something, but I can only tell you if you promise to keep it our secret.”

Reed lifted his head out of curiosity, inching closer to his mother. “What is it?”

She held out her hand, all her fingers curled except for the littlest one. “Promise me, Reed.”

Hesitating for a moment, he extended his pinkie toward her, curling it around her finger.

“You’re going to have a baby brother … or sister,” she explained carefully as she met his eyes. “I’ve waited a long time for somebody like James, and I know you’ve only just met him recently, but I need to do this, before its too late.”

She squeezed his finger gently. “If he’s done anything unkind toward you, or if you don’t feel safe, you can tell me and we’ll leave right now. I promise.”

The child’s lip quivered slightly as he crawled out from under the bed, his mother sitting up to give him more space to clear the edge. He sat in her lap, resting his head against her chest as her arms enveloped him. “I’m fine, Mommy, I promise.”

She kissed the top of his head.

“I promise you, sweetheart, this is for the best. For all of us.”

~*~

Reed cowered under the bed, pressed as far back against the wall as he could manage as he stared at the narrow band of light between the floor and the bed skirt.

“Come out little one, it’s safe,” his mother’s voice called, the dulcet tone laced with comfort.

At the foot of the bed, he could see his mother’s unmoving lips and unblinking eyes staring at him. The floorboards creaked beneath the heavy cloven hooves, the wood splintering slightly from the pressure, as the monster stepped over his mother’s mangled corpse.

“It’s safe, darling, the monster is gone,” the creature soothed.

His body shook and he fought to still himself as he realized the bed was trembling above him, his frame slightly too large for the childish hiding spot. He silently begged for somebody to help, even if it was just James.

The 11-year-old’s hand flew to his mouth to muffle the frightened yelp as a whiplike tail lashed out, fracturing the bed in the middle. A small squeak escaped when the wooden frame above him pitched downward, trapping him, but it was lost in the midst of hooves crashing close to his head.

A badger-like head peered at him from above, its lipless mouth stretched into a boney grin.

“There you are, Reed,” his mother’s voice crooned.

Reed scrabbled to escape, his nails clawing at the floorboards while he tried to claw his way out of the wreckage. The monster reared again, its feet pawing the air for a second before it adjusted to descend close to the boy’s shoulders.

He needed to get out, he needed to flee, he needed to –

He screamed as the room disappeared around him, instantly becoming pitch black. He could still the monster, its mouth snapping horridly on nothingness.

The creature cackled with frustration. Its tail thrashed, destroying the remnants of the frame, and its hind legs kicked, crashing through the nightstand.

The boy stayed perfectly still, paralyzed and terrified at the darkness that seemed to protect him. Something inside his head whispered soothing promises of safety and secret but his ears heard nothing. He waited for what felt like hours as the monster prowled outside, tearing apart the room as it sought its quarry.

Its mouth twisted at the corners as it snarled, its black gaze darting around the room one last time before it stalked out of the room.

Eventually, the darkness surrendered him, shrinking away as he crawled out of the wreckage. He rushed to Mom’s side, pushing the debris of the furniture off her broken body. He swallowed a sob when his gaze landed on her. Her blonde hair was mottled with blood and brain where the creature’s hooves had struck her skull.

A wave of nausea twisted his stomach. He turned away, retching violently.

The sound masked the noise of hooves on the floorboard until a stunned gasp in front of him rattled him.

“You’re alive?!”

Reed scurried backward, looking up at the goat-man who’d invaded his home. His hand struck out, latching onto a splintered piece of wood and he launched it at the being.

“No, no – I’m here for your safety!” The intruder promised, shielding his head from the onslaught. “I saw the damage and I feared the worst.”

Reed’s hand stilled.

“Who are – what are you?” He demanded.

The creature straightened, running a hand along his curled horn.

“My name is Felix, a satyr. I was sent to bring you to a safe haven, before …” his voice trailed off as he winced, averting his eyes from the body. “I’ll explain on the way, but the fact that you’re still alive, well, it’s a miracle.”

The 11-year-old bit back a snarl at the disregard with which the satyr stepped over his mother’s body, his hand outstretched for Reed to take.

“Why should I?”

A small furrow appeared between Felix’s brows. “I suppose there’s no way to put this delicately in this situation, so forgive my bluntness, but you’re a demigod and whatever danger you were in before is going to pale in comparison to when a monster actually finds you.”

Reed’s mouth opened to retort but something nagged at the back of his mind, warning him away from telling the satyr that it had found him, that something had saved him.

He took a deep breath.

“What about my mom?” he questioned, anger lacing his words. “I can’t just –“

“Reed Scuro, whatever attacked your mother is sure to come back to finish its task – to kill you,” Felix snapped, his hands dropping to his sides as he stepped closer to the 11-year-old. “The Mist typically protects a mortal from our realm’s dangers, but for one to have gone so far as to kill a human without a demigod near … We should not be nearby when it returns. We can mourn your mother later, in the safety of Camp Halfblood.”

Reed clenched his jaw, glaring at the satyr.

Felix sighed, his face softening slightly. “Please, I may not have known her, but I’m sure your mother would have wanted you to be safe.”

[ausaplenty]

A quiet ruse

Reed Scuro. Kiara Scuro. Chiron. Felix the Satyr. Demigod AU

Reed let a hint of surprise slip through his mask as he stepped into the infirmary and saw the preteen curled on the cot. Twigs and grass littered her blonde hair and her body was decorated with scratches and bruises that Asclepius’ daughter hadn’t healed yet. His gaze jerked to Chiron and Felix, the satyr who had escorted him – and now his sister – to camp.

“She’s -” He fought against the lump in his throat, forcing it down quickly. “You found her?”

Chiron met his eyes – blue-gray irises that he knew matched Kiara’s.

“There was an attack in Philadelphia, a manticore wreaking havoc near Independence Hall, but she wasn’t there when Felix arrived,” the centaur explained, clasping his hands behind his back as his front hooves pawed the ground.

The satyr nodded, scratching an itch at the base of his curled horn at his right ear. “Took me a bit, but I found her at the museum.”

Reed didn’t know if it was shame or guilt that made Chiron look away.

“As you know, the occurrence of two full sibling demigods is rare,” the camp director reminded him. “If we had known, she would have been joined you sooner.”

Reed rapped his knuckles against the door frame, breaking the camp director’s focus from his book.

“Ah, Reed, how unexpected,” the centaur commented, sliding a leather bookmark between the pages and setting the tome back on the shelf. He circled over to his desk, gesturing to the chair on the opposite side. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

The demigod did as instructed, though the tension never left his body. “I think my sister might be in trouble, sir.”

Chiron frowned, pulling open a desk drawer and shifting through the contents until he found a file. Reed kept the pride from his face as he noted his name and how meager its contents were.

“Your half-sister?” the centaur confirmed, lifting his eyes from the paper to verify with the camper.

“I think …” he hesitated for a moment and then sighed, raking his shaking hand through his hair. It was more nerves than he usually showed, but the action drew attention to the faint circles under his eyes. “I’ve been having dreams, sir, where she’s running from something – something mythical.”

There was a twinge of pity on Chiron’s face and Reed wanted to bear his teeth at the sympathy, but it was what he needed. “I don’t think she’s my half-sister.”  

Reed looked down at the 11-year-old, seeing the smudges of dirt and faint traces of neglect that he saw too often in the halfbloods who were kicked out by their mortal parents.

“Does she know?” he asked, dragging a chair to the side of the cot and sitting down on it, his long legs bent slightly awkwardly.

“I told her about demigods and promised she was safe here at the camp, but she fell asleep soon after that,” Felix answered. “She said she was coming to New York City, had an old letter from you.”

A let – He caught sight of a backpack at the head of the cot and his fingers itched to search the contents, to see what other treasures his sister brought and what he could glean from them, but he was careful to not let Felix or Chiron see.

He leaned forward to brush Kiara’s choppy bangs from her face and regretted it almost instantly when his stomach twisted achingly. The features they shared were obvious, but he hadn’t time the last time they’d seen each other to dwell on their differences.

He favored their father, with his dark hair, stubborn jaw and more angled features. He hadn’t brought any pictures of her to camp, because he hadn’t had time in the scramble to escape with Felix, but he was grateful for that, because he can’t say he would have allowed any memento to survive the threat of somebody realizing how little resemblance he bore to her. But Kiara ...

The jaw they shared, even if Kiara’s was still slightly rounded from youth, and the eyes, but almost every other feature on her face was an echo of their mother.

He fought the urge to yank his hand away as the 11-year-old sighed in her sleep, her face turning slightly to chase his touch. She uncurled her body, her knees no longer hugging her chest, and rolled onto her back.

“I’ll tell her, when she wakes up,” Reed promised. He pulled the blanket at the foot of the bed over his sister, tucking her in like he remembered Mom doing for him years ago. He forced himself to ignore the sleepy mumble that escaped Kiara’s lips.

Chiron nodded, reaching down to squeeze Reed’s shoulder reassuringly, “Bring her to me when she is ready.”

The centaur and the satyr walked away, talking quietly to each other. The teen’s ears pricked up as he heard Felix mutter “...explains why the boy’s scent was so strong back then ... two demigods born to the same mortal ...”

He waited until he could no longer hear their hooves on the wooden floor before he scooped up Kiara’s backpack and carefully started picking through its meager contents. A hoodie. Some extra socks. A few poptarts and granola bars. A notebook and pencils, worn to various lengths.

He started paging through the notebook, feeling a hint of pride when he realized the drawings that filled the lined pages were Kiara’s and were more than childish doodles like those that had decorated his schoolwork. In a few of them, he could see resemblances to the images that had decorated temple walls and pottery.

An envelope slipped from between the pages and into his lap. He could hear the horn bellow outside, calling campers to lunch and the adolescent voices that drifted through the infirmary as the demigods answered, but he ignored it as he stared at the faded red postal emblem stamped on the front, the only hint of where it’d been sent from.

He unfolded the letter, scanning the contents with a faint familiarity – he’d crept away from camp in the dead of night to send it when he realized that there was a chance she’d share his future, offering a rendezvous point for when she needed it. His hands itched to tear the paper to pieces and destroy the evidence of premeditation, but that would be hasty. He didn’t know how his little sister would react to the invasion of her privacy, but he knew he would never trust somebody who had.

With a strained exhale, he tucked Kiara’s treasures back into her bag and shoved it under the cot.

A thrill of satisfaction raced along his spine as he crossed his legs and waited. It had worked.

The pieces had begun to fall into place months ago, when Kiara’s birthday had passed. He had plotted and schemed, carefully orchestrating the chessboard to his liking. He’d laid out the trail for his sister to find and she’d done so beautifully.

He polished his sword as he sat by the campfire, the trees looming over him. His ears and his body were primed for the slightest noise. The barrier between realms close enough for him to flee if he needed to, but he wanted this reunion to happen as far away from camp as possible.

It was a nightly routine for him. Wait for hours until the embers flickered out and he could douse the remnants with water and bury evidence of his presence. But tonight was different.

The forest thrummed with the shadows’ excited whispers as the darkness parted and Kiara emerged. Her eyes were wide as they met his and he stood, the sword held loosely at his side.

 “Reed?” A sob tore from her throat as she launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his waist. Her body shook while she cried into his chest. For a moment, he froze, unused to this … contact.

The sword dropped to the ground and he awkwardly returned her embrace, his chin resting on the top of her head. “Hey Kiara.”

She smiled up at him, her eyes wet with tears of happiness and relief.

Kiara sighed as her eyes fluttered open, confusion clouding her features for a moment before she recognized Reed. She bolted upright, head swiveling to take in everything. “Is this –“

“Welcome to Camp Halfblood, sis. We did it.”

[ausaplenty]

Gamble at the Games

Gilbert Mead. Kiara Scuro. The duo get to test Gilly's gadgets.

Demigod AU. 714 words. Day 3 of Hurtcember - "Blood."

The whistle’s shrill note was sharp, almost painful if it wasn’t for the distance. Gilly stiffened at his perch and tightened his grasp on the remote, his thumb hovering over the trigger. His eyes scanned the riverbank as he searched for the azure plume.

Kiara skidded down the embankment opposite of him, the scarlet flag tucked into her breastplate. Other campers were shouting in the woods behind her, one voice barking orders and the others alerting their team where the combatant was. Her whistle clenched between her teeth, the noise piercing the air as those closest to her winced. It gave her the distance she needed to tear her helmet off her head and dive into the water.

Gilly had to clench his teeth to stop from shouting in warning as several spears flew through the air, plunging into the water dangerously close to where Kiara had disappeared. An Ares camper threw his helmet off and leapt in, his muscled arms pulling him quickly through the current.

“Blue, hold!” Lizzie ordered from his side of the boundary, throwing her arm out to halt one of the new campers. “Archers, across the river!”

The command sent a volley of arrows through the air, hitting the campers who weren’t fast enough to shield themselves.

Kiara swam to the surface, almost at the boundary line, but her pursuer was right behind her, his hand closing around her ankle to pull her back. The 12-year-old twisted in his grasp, struggling to free herself and stay above the water. The red team started to follow them into the river, when they realized their opponents were not aiming for the water.

“Now!” Kiara barked, her order insistent. She twisted and slammed herself back, taking her opponent down.

He hesitated for a second before he jabbed the trigger. Kiara’s blonde head breached the surface a second before the percussion explosives their team had sunk to the bottom of the river detonated.

The sharp pop was barely audible above the water surface but he saw Kiara wince as she swam. He swung down from the branch, memory guiding him to the sturdiest limbs until he could drop to the ground.

The red team who had stayed on the banks were in the river, too busy fishing their teammates out to attack. Gilly pushed through the people who had formed a protective barrier around their scout.

Kiara grinned him, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction, and she fished the scarlet cloth out of its hiding place and offered it to him. The gesture sent a cheer reverberating through the circle but he pushed her hand aside with a frown. He could see the blood trickling down her neck.

He reached out, meaning to push her hair away so he could study the wound, but a warning squeeze on his shoulder made him wince and draw back. Reed moved between the second-year campers, handing Gilly the flag.

He almost dropped it with a yelp when one of his hulking half-brothers picked him up and lifted his scrawny frame on to his shoulder, the triumphant shouts drowning out the victory horn. His cabinmates were assaulting him with questions about the bombs, how they worked and what the components were as they started to parade him back to camp.

“Let me down, please!” Gilly insisted eventually, probably the loudest he’d ever been all summer. His feet back on the ground, he raced back to the riverbank.

Kiara was limping slightly as she walked, pressing a wad of orange material to her ear that looked about the right size to have been Reed’s sleeve. Her brother was at her side, inserting himself between Kiara and Lizzie. It left him unable to do more than yell at the 12-year-old as she jogged toward the mastermind with a grin. “They work-“

“What happened to your ear? Didn’t the plugs work?” He asked worriedly.

He’d tried to minimize the damage, but her serving as the lure had been risky, especially when they’d done so little testing.

“The plugs were fine, but Jeremy from bit my ear. That’s it,” she assured him as she draped her arm over his shoulder, discreetly letting him take some of the weight off her foot.

Gilly eyed her suspiciously. “You’re getting checked out, just in case.”

[ausaplenty]

Baggage

Demigod AU. Kiara Scuro. Alexa Myers. Gilbert Mead.

Kiara lacks her brother's control.

Kiara didn’t know how long she had been waiting in the clearing, just knew that Reed was back, felt the tug in her heart that promised her reunion.

She launched herself at him the second appeared, wrapping her arms around his waist. She didn’t try to stop the sobs that tore at her, her tears staining Reed’s shirt.

“Y-you were gone –“ she cried.

Three weeks. Three weeks of knowing LiLi was alive, that Reed was alive, but nothing to prove it but the meager clues Gilly helped her find.

He cut her off with a hug, the tightest one she could remember. “I promised I’d come back.”

She refused to release him, forcing him to sink down to the ground with her still in his arms as she shook. His fingers carded through her hair, a gesture she recalled but had forgotten in the years since she had last felt it.

“Kiara, I – I saw Mom.” The words tumbled from his lips excitedly and from where Kiara’s head rested on his shoulder, she could faintly hear his heart beat against his ribs. “I- Hades sent me to Elysium and she was there.”

The girl craned her head back to look at him, her eyes wide. “She was there?! Did LiLi meet her?”

Silence.

“Reed?”

She felt his body tense. Saw a barrier build itself in his gaze as he sighed. “LiLi fell into the river Lethe bef-“

“No.” Kiara scrambled out of his embrace, standing while he stayed seated, the only way she could tower over him. Her body shook with anger. “You promised you’d bring her back!”

There was a darkness that surrounded her as her rage built, but it seemed to seep into Reed, whispering things she couldn’t understand. It only incensed her further.

“You said you would bring her back. You liar!” She cried, ignoring his sharp rebuke at her volume. “You promised!”

Reed stood, his eyes just as stormy as she guessed hers to be. “She didn’t want to come back. What was I supposed to do? Drag her back to the land of the living?!”

Kiara knew people were scared of Reed, especially when he behaved as he did now – defiant, challenging and unmovable. She’d been trailing after him for weeks, watching as campers shrank back when he leveled a glare at them or flinched at his sharp tongue. But he was her brother.

“There’s no way LiLi wouldn’t come back with you, Reed. Not when she belongs here, where people LOVE her. She wouldn’t – she wouldn’t leave without telling me goodbye! She promised when I gave her -”

Her words caught in her throat when Reed held the compact out wordlessly.

Kiara didn’t carry much.

She hadn’t left home with much, just a backpack with some essentials and a few other things. Her sketchbook. Some markers. Mom’s compact. A letter from Reed. She’d relied on the supplies Reed had left her on the trail.

At camp, she kept most things at her cot, hidden away and ready to go in case they needed to run.

But her pockets were almost always full. The smaller sketchbook Reed gave her shortly after she arrived, and a miniature pencil. Mom’s compact, as deep as she could shove it in her shallow pocket. But lately …

“We’re not staying long, I just need to grab a few things –“ Kiara pushed past Daddy the second the key turned in the lock. “What are you –“

She ran through the living room, her feet carrying her to the door she’d been kept out of for so long, even before last month. She shoved it open. She cried when she saw the emptiness, the shelves with the books gone. The Lego sets missing from his desk.

“Kiara, you aren’t supposed to go in –“ Dad yelled at her, his hand on the blonde’s shoulder for a second before she broke free.

Kiara ran into Mommy and Daddy’s bedroom, confused for a second by the blank spaces left where things should have been – a bedframe, a dresser – but the stack of boxes in varying states of fullness drew her to the closet

Daddy didn’t think she saw the boxes and bags piled in the trunk of the car when he drove her to school or their absence when she climbed back in after classes.

Her face crumpled when she opened Mom’s closet, a wail escaping her lips when she saw how much was gone, down to just a few coats and dresses and a metal rack of handbags. Her cries grew when Daddy’s arms wrapped around her waist and she lunged forward, pulling it out as he tried to lift her kicking and screaming. Her struggles knocked a purse off the shelf and things spilled out. She screamed as her grip weakened on the rack, her sobs making her protests a garbled mess.

“Goddamnit, Kiara, that’s enough!” Daddy shouted as he pulled her loose.

With one last frantic grab, she pulled a small round object from the mess and clutched it to her chest before Daddy’s arms trapped her against him. His shirt muffled her wails while he carried her out to the living room and sat there, rocking back and forth.

“Minemineminemine,” she sobbed, her fingers barely able to wrap around her trophy.

She felt Daddy’s chest heave as he inhaled, his breath rattling in his lungs, and a tear on her hair.

“I can’t … I can’t keep seeing her wherever I look, honey,” he tried to explain, her cries drowning out his words. “She’s gone. We have to move on.”

“N-no, no no …” she snatched it from his hand, pressing it against her heart. “SHE was supposed to bring this back. Not you! You should have made her bring it back! You shouldn’t have left. Her. There!”

Reed’s jaw tightened, the darkness coalescing around him – even Kiara’s shadow reached toward him, stretching across the gap she’d put between them.

Kiara’s mind raced, trying to fit together pieces of a puzzle she had no idea she’d been missing parts of. She’d thought they were together, that it was taking so long because some part of the quest – not the River Lethe, but another task bestowed upon them – needed to be resolved.

“She’s not there,” the blonde whispered, her eyes widening as she met Reed’s. “She got out, Reed! We found proof – we found her backpack and her spear! In Vegas!”

The lip of the compact dug into the flesh of her hand as she squeezed it tightly, excited to share the news with Reed. “Gilly has them! He thinks he can use Ryan’s powers –“

She gasped as her shadows jerked her toward her brother, a crack in his defiant mask showing something dark for moment before he regained control and the black tendrils eased their pull. She stumbled before Reed’s hands on her shoulders steadied her.

“You told them about Lilian,” he scolded slightly. “And you left camp. After you promised me.”

Anger boiled in her gut and she lifted her chin.

“You were gone for weeks, Reed,” she snapped, putting the compact safely in her pocket. “I didn’t even get a letter this time –“

“I didn’t have a choice, Kiara!” He flinched slightly, his fingers digging into her skin.

She covered his hand with hers. “Neither did I! You wouldn’t have waited either, if it was me!”

The truth struck him and she could see the way his body sagged slightly, a hint of exhaustion showing in his eyes.

“I didn’t have to tell Gilly and Ryan about LiLi – they knew,” Kiara told him, her tone filled with conviction and steel. “When the entire camp said all of them were dead, they didn’t. So we used Gilly’s compass and found what clues we could, but we didn’t find her – just her spear and her backpack. But Gilly’s got an idea for how we can use Ryan’s power to make his compass work and we can finally bring her home.”

~*~

WEEKS LATER

Kiara’s feet were heavy as she trudged to the mess hall, her eyes darting around until she found LiLi. The Athena cabin wasn’t the most boisterous – unless somebody started a debate – but the brunette stood out among her half siblings with her stillness. She flinched slightly before she glared at Kiara.

She felt a flutter of hope in her heart under the sapphire gaze but it soured quickly with each second before the amnesiac turned to focus on her food.

The seat beside her felt painfully empty as she scowled and stood, making her offering with a particularly antagonistic scrape. Nobody asked her about Reed’s absence, too used to his disappearances and too scared to inquire.

Kiara picked through the rest of her food, paying more attention to LiLi than she was to her bites. When the daughter of Athena rose, Kiara did too, trailing behind her to deposit their dishes in the bins and then leaving the mess hall.

LiLi veered away from the path to their first lessons, whirling on the blonde when they were farther from the trails that people might stumble upon them.

“I don’t need a shadow,” she growled as she folded her arms and glared at Kiara. “Whether its you or your brother.”

Kiara’s mind flicked to Reed, off on a journey he barely told her about, and Lilian’s face spasmed slightly as she tried to hide her pain. Worried, Kiara stepped closer, her hands outstretched.

“Stop.” The brunette ordered sharply, recoiling. “Just – stay there.”

 Kiara faltered, the demand stinging. Her hands didn’t drop, but pulled back slightly, ready to offer comfort or support. “I’m trying to help,” she explained plaintively.

“You aren’t!” Lilian snapped with a scowl. “You’d help most if you left me alone, but you can’t seem to realize that I don’t want to be your friend, I barely want to be here!”

She took advantage of Kiara’s stunned silence to flee, stomping back to the safe trails that headed to her first session.

~*~

 “Wh-what do you think?” Gilly asked her as he tilted his graph paper tablet toward her, revealing the plans for some sort of gadget that Kiara didn’t understand completely – a small mechanical owl he said he was trying to build to work like a walkie talkie.

She could see the mechanisms, didn’t comprehend them, but she admired the way the cogs and coils fit together. How they twisted and spun like moving art.

She tapped the end of her pencil against the overall design, where the owl’s eye sockets were panes of glass that Gilly had noted would be illuminated.

“If you’re trying to hide, would these give you away?” she asked. She imagined Gilly in the woods, this automaton owl on his shoulder, its bright eyes creating a beacon for hunters. She suppressed a shudder quickly, staving off the shiver of fear at the thought of her friend in danger. “It would be good sometimes, like if you’re trying to see, but could you turn them off?”

The son of Hephaestus’s brow furrowed, and he scribbled something in the margins. “Th-that’d be smart.”

Gilly didn’t stammer with her as much as he did when Reed and Ryan and most definitely LiLi was near. He’d been the one to find her in the three weeks, when she told the camp that LiLi wasn’t dead, even as they forged their statues and mourned.

“I’m not crazy,” Kiara insisted, lifting her chin defiantly as the boy inched closer, stepping further from the din of the mess hall and the demigods who refused to believe her.

“LiLi is alive. Reed is –“ she stopped herself from saying more, Reed’s voice in her head warning caution. “She’s going to come back.”

“I kn-know,” he assured her quickly, shoving his hand in his pocket. He held out a small tile, blank, but obviously deceptive. “I-I-I gave her a b-blessing bef-fo-before she-she left. I-It feels …”

Kiara took the tile, her absence in her pocket painful, and ran her thumb over the surface. “Like you’re waiting for her.”

“M-m-may I?” He nodded at her sketchbook, barely bigger than the palm of her hand. For a brief moment, she fought the urge to snap it shut and hide it away from prying eyes as she had in the past but it faded fast. Instead, she tilted it in his direction so he could see the teenager laughing, her sketched eyes sparkling. A sight she hadn’t seen in weeks.

She glanced up at her subject, her and Gilly’s perch on the hill a good vantage point over the arena where she could see LiLi spar with the daughters of Ares.

She heard the sharp intake of breath and she hastily closed her sketchbook, shoving it in her pocket.

“K-K-Kiara, i-i-it’s going to b-buh-b-be fine,” the boy promised, the confidence in his voice at odds with the stammer. “S-she’ll come around. I-it-it’s gotten b-buh-better.”

The girl scowled. “For Ryan. For Reed. I just make it worse.”

Reed’s recent words stung, the knowledge that, as terrified as she had seemed of Reed when they found her at the apartment, he could still talk to her. LiLi had glared at her across the mess hall this morning, warning her away.

“There’s a possibility this could lead to some memory recovery.”

He was supposed to come back tonight, to check in, may be he had found something to help.

She felt Gilly’s eyes on her, considering her. It wasn’t like LiLi or Reed, whose scrutiny she squirmed under, it was more gentle and warm.

“I-if-if it makes you f-f-feel better, I-I-I haven’t t-talked to her y-y-yet,” he said with a small self-deprecating smile.

Kiara couldn’t help the small smile that spread across her face, playfully bumping her shoulder against his. “That’s ‘cause you’re scared to blow her away with how awesome you are.”

He ducked his head shyly, not really bothering to hide his grin, but unused to the compliment. “I b-b-better get to the forge.”

She waved goodbye as he picked his way over the tree roots and rocks, his departure barely warranting a glance from the daughters of Ares and the sole Athenian. With a huff, Kiara drew her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on the apex – her attention fixed entirely on LiLi below.

How could she not remember anything when her body clearly did? LiLi dodged and weaved the blows as effortlessly as a leaf drifted on the breeze, her speed forcing the daughter of Ares’ to speed up her attacks – only occasionally nicking LiLi’s body where the training armor bared skin.

Reed had warned her about the Ares Cabin, when she’d first arrived. They had their uses, he said, but they were as ruthless as they were skilled. Better to improve first and then test her mettle against them when she was more confident. The teen facing LiLi now was ferocious and more skilled than her half-siblings.

The Athenian’s blade clashed with the scaled teen’s weapon, a rare move in any clash against her, and the Ares’ child bore down on LiLi, their position forcing the brunette to remain engaged unless she wanted to be caught under the sword or on the ground.

Kiara’s breath caught in her throat as her heart raced, leaping to her feet. Her eyes were riveted to the way LiLi refused to cave to the force. Her back was to Kiara, but she could see LiLi’s opponent say something with an almost feral grin. In response, Lilian dropped to the ground, just barely moving before a blade struck the ground where she’d been. In an instant, she was on her feet, her blade positioned so it would pierce her gut if she were to press forward.

 “I yield, before your little shadow intervenes, Alexa,” the scaled teen cackled, her hands up in defeat. Her amber gaze met Kiara’s, challenging and sharp. “Want to spar, small Scuro?”

Kiara glared at the warrior, her fists balled at her side as her muscles tensed. Sitting in the shade of the tree, the way the shadows gathered wouldn’t be visible from the arena, but Kiara felt them, itching at the insult. “I’m not sma-“

“You have better things to do than fight children, Valerie,” Alexa interjected, glaring at Kiara. Her sapphire eyes were hard, practically shining with anger. “Even one this annoying.”

Kiara flinched at the remark before she drew herself up. Do what you do best, Reed had said, and this was what Kiara knew. She knew LiLi’s greatest weapons were her barbs, had watched her words cut as sharp as a knife, but it didn’t scare it off, it never had.

“You’re annoying,” she retorted childishly, folding her arms over her chest.

Valerie chuckled before she sheathed her sword, but there was no mistaking the brutal ease in which she moved as she strode closer to Kiara.

“Some other time, then, Scuro,” the daughter of Ares promised with a smile that showed too many teeth. She glanced over at the Athenian before she stalked out of the arena.

The brunette grabbed her fallen shield, her sword still loose in her hand as if she were willing to use it. “Do all the Scuros have a hard time listening or is that a blessing conveyed only to you and your brother?”

Kiara huffed, her hands sliding into her pockets as she sought the comfort hidden there.

“I just want to help,” the blonde offered.

Lilian’s chuckle was dark and acerbic.

“Liar, liar, liar,” she answered, her gaze hard as it landed on Kiara.

The darkness around Kiara hissed at the allegation, indignant and frustrated as the blonde straightened.

“I –“

“You don’t want to help me, Scuro, you want your precious Lilian back,” The Athenian snapped. She spread her arms wide, inviting the girl to see all that she was. “I’m not herhhher – It hurts when I think about her and when you look at me like Alexa isn’t real. You’re waiting for a ghost and you’re lying to yourself if you think that it’s helpful.”

Something hurt and angry seeped into Kiara’s bones and the tenuous control she had snapped. She ignored the way the darkness clung to her as she stepped closer to the brunette.

“I’m waiting for LiLi because you promised me that you’d come back.” The compact was cool against Kiara’s palm as she pulled it out, the lip digging into the pads of her fingers. “You took my blessing and you promised that you’d bring it back to me.”

Lilian’s eyes flitted to the object before she tore them away, determinedly meeting Kiara’s own stormy gaze. “You got it back.”

Kiara didn’t know how she got it back or why. Reed didn’t tell her anything more than the bare minimum and only when she pried it out of him. He said it was to help her but it hurt so much more – how could not knowing not be worse?

“That wasn’t the promise,” Kiara snarled, closing the distance between them. Something dark – oh would Reed be mad when he found out – lashed out with her hand, curling around LiLi’s wrist as the blonde shoved the compact into the brunette’s grasp. The Athenian flinched and tried to recoil with a sharp intake of breath but Kiara held it there, sandwiched between her hands. “YOU promised that YOU would bring it back – and then YOU didn’t.”

The shadows purred in satisfaction, at finally breaking the dam she’d been forced to build since Lilian had come back to camp, at telling somebody why it hurt so much to look at Lilian and be told that it was Alexa when it couldn’t be. Because LiLi would never break a promise to Kiara.

And then Kiara looked up, wanting to see Lilian’s sapphire eyes and craving understanding there. But all she saw was pain.

Lilian’s breaths were short, desperate gasps, like her lungs refused to accept air, and she started to shake, violently, the quivers radiating through their clasped hands. Thin whisps of darkness seemed to stretch up LiLi’s arms, like corrupted veins.

“L-LiLi?” Kiara whispered, horrified, as she dropped her hands.

No longer held, the brunette’s tremors intensified, and her knees started to buckle. Her eyes rolled toward the back of her head. The compact clattered to the ground as Kiara lunged forward to catch the Athenian. “LiLi – I’m sorry! I didn’t – I didn’t mean to!”

[ausaplenty]

Not Powered Enough

Whump-tober. "Now the room is spinning while I'm just trying to fill in the gaps."

It counts as swooning if it's from blood loss, right?

Kiara Scuro. Canon. Pre-Lindsay.

LiLi would call her stupid. An adrenaline junkie.

Kiara would argue, but they’d both know it was for the sake of arguing. Just like old times

She was back at SPSRA. Things were … better? At least, there currently wasn’t a megalomaniac intent on killing her and she was going to therapy for almost killing her on-again-off-again best friend. But there was that itch that she felt frequently in government employ – like she wasn’t doing as much good as she could be.

Go where you’re told. Focus on this assignment. Ignore a rising crime rate in the city – That’s for the local law enforcement officers to deal with.

So every now and then, she gave Will some excuse about spending the weekend in her studio and needing time to get lost in the medium, so she wouldn’t see him. And she’d tell the team the same excuse.

Ignore LiLi’s intense gaze as she focused on a recent artistic frustration, trying very hard not to think about the truth. She thought she was doing a good job so far. And then she’d leave her uniform in the closet and put her insomnia to good use.

 They’d understand, she knew. But the team was in tenuous standing at SPSRA and total obliviousness was safer than any whisper of collusion. The only way she could be traced was her phone, turned off and tucked away unless she needed to call police to deal with some perp. If something happened to her … Well, Skye wouldn’t be deterred by something as minor as a powered-down cell phone.

Sometimes, Kiara got to blow off some steam and actually stop a mugging or two. Sometimes, her patrols were just a waste of time and Kiara found inspiration for future art projects, so at least she wouldn’t be lying through her teeth when people asked about her Saturday night.

Tonight … well, she’d stopped a purse snatching from the shadows, a dark tendril snaking across the pavement as heavy footsteps pounded the ground. Somebody trying to jimmy open a car door with a wire hanger had ended up with a foot stuck in his own shadow as police lights flashed behind him.

They weren’t violent crimes, but she did stop them from escalating.

Behind her, the lone lightbulb illuminating an apartment building’s rooftop access door buzzed incessantly. Kiara’s gaze alternated between the street below her, an impressive brick expanse of an apartment building at the end of the street and her design of a technically unauthorized art project in her small sketch book. Reed would call it graffiti, she called it public art … to-may-to, to-mah-to.

It was almost midnight and while the city was never truly silent, there was a muffled air to it – devoid of the amplified roar of daytime traffic or lull of dozens of simultaneous conversations or the not-quite syncopation of hundreds of feet.

It made the woman’s bordering-on-hurried footsteps echo even more in Kiara’s ears as the blonde’s gaze landed on her after she rounded the corner. The artist’s pencil rolled to the divot of the spine when she dropped it and she closed the book around it, rising slowly to her feet.

The woman was probably a waitress getting back from work, judging by button up white shirt under the black vest and denim jacket. She was trying not to be obvious as she switched her attention between her keychain and the man following her. If Kiara squinted, she could see the black cylinder at the end of the chain – pepper spray?

The artist abandoned her sketchbook on the roof as she slipped into the shadows. She emerged across the street when the man – not tall and broad, but a little bit taller than Kiara and stocky with just a bit of a gut – shoved his prey into the alley. A tendril of darkness wrapped around his waist as his target whirled, a burst of spray emitting from her keychain cylinder and her long brunette braid whipping behind her.

“Bitch!” he howled as the chemicals hit his eyes at the same time as Kiara’s shadows slammed him into the wall. The darkness shifted, sticking to him so he couldn’t see his restraints.

Kiara put herself between him and his prey, obscuring the woman’s view as he struggled. “Are you alright? Do you need me to call the police?” she asked, acting as if she hadn’t intervened. She knew she looked androgynous enough in her hoodie, jeans and baseball cap to not immediately be clocked as a woman, so she telegraphed her movements as much as possible.

“H-h-he attacked me,” the woman stammered, her eyes wide as she stared over Kiara’s shoulder. “I was was was walking home from –“

“I saw,” Kiara promised, glancing back toward the man as the shadows hissed angrily. She frowned when she saw him moving more than she’d like him to and shifted the darkness so it was more apparent and curled around his wrists.

If she sank him into the shadows, it would be harder to keep SPSRA out of it.

“Call the police,” the blonde urged. “I’ll wait with you, I promise. You’re safe.”

The shadows practically screamed as something broke them and Kiara grunted as a body slammed her to the ground. One hand fisted in her hood, yanking it back, and Kiara’s vision blurred when something hard and sharp bludgeoned into her head just over her right ear. Almost from far away, she heard the woman she’d been talking to scream.

“Fucking powered,” the man snarled behind her, shifting so he was straddling her. “Ain’t gonna be that easy –“

A wall of darkness crashed down on them, shifting them into blackness and pulling the man off her. He thrashed against the tendrils as Kiara stumbled to her feet, her head pounding and her vision swimming.

She struggled to focus as her sight wavered, but the bindings she created to pin him down seemed to melt away – Her world wavered, not just from her vision, but from something he was doing, jamming her abilities.

“Fucking powered,” Kiara spit back at him, shifting her stance lower like Ren had taught her after the bank.

He charged at her with a smirk, but the shadow walker waited until he was almost upon her so she could surge upward and caught his chin with her fist and her shadowed blades between her knuckles. He staggered away with a groan, a quartet of slash marks running along his jaw.

The shadows roared, their voices stuttering as if there was static.

Kiara knew how her powers worked with other shadow powers – knew it was a greedy game – but this wasn’t the same. The shadows weren’t conflicted about who to serve, this was like water off a duck’s back, where the darkness slid away from her opponent.

But it wasn’t immediately effective, but the shadows’ frustrated howls from this hindrance were warring with the ringing in Kiara’s ears from the man’s earlier blow. Her scalp felt sticky as blood congealed on her hair and her hat and trickled down her head.

The man trudged toward her, his legs encased in shadows as they fought against whatever repulsion he commanded. The claw marks she’d inflicted were bleeding, coating his neck.

Speed it was.

Kiara drove her foot into his groin, fighting the wave of nausea that accompanied the shift in her balance.

“Umph,” he grunted, buckling to his knees.

She pushed him out of the darkness and back into the alley, pinning him with her knee on his chest. Her hands wrapped around his throat, squeezing relentlessly.

“Not … powered … enough,” she grunted, adding a cord of shadow around his windpipe to her own grasp. She didn’t let up until he was limp beneath her.

She slid off of him with a groan, slumping against the alley wall as the city spun around her. The woman had disappeared but Kiara registered the wail of police sirens … somewhere … as darkness crept into her vision.