"And they left their house. The lights danced for them, holding their hands and telling them everything would be okay. The stars themselves came down from the heavens and guided them away. They made sure they were going home."
Coridan stared up at her mother wide eyed. It wasn't story that intrigued her, not really. It was the way her mother's bright red lips shaped to form each word. Every syllable was presented with a perfect, brisk accent that she had acquired from living in England her whole life. Her rust red hair was pulled into a neat, elegantly curled pile on her head. She wore a white shirt tucked into a long, black skirt. Her delicate hands held the story book with amazing grace.
"But momma, if they were leaving their house, how could they be going home?"
Misty looked down at her daughter, her blue eyes meeting Coridan's olive green ones.
"Home isn't always where your house is, sweetheart."
"But isn't this our home, momma?"
"What do you think?"
Misty chuckled, hugging her daughter closer to her.
"I can't tell you that, my love. My home is wherever you're safe. Everyone's home is where their most loved things can be safe."
"Does that mean my home is where you're safe?"
"I don't know. Am I what you love most?"
"Yes," Coridan answered quickly. Misty smiled and leaned forward, pressing her rosy lips to her daughter's forehead.
The whistle of an airplane sounded overhead.
From outside, a terrible light illuminated Coridan's bedroom.
"How can we find them? They've been dead for well over sixty years!"
"It doesn't seem like we have much of a choice, Annabeth. I knew them. If the Doors of Death were open as long as we think, they would've been desperate to escape and find each other again. They are strong fighters. If we find them, they would prove to be valuable assets," Chiron reasoned.
"We don't even know if they're alive."
"Yes, we do. At least one of them. Alana, the daughter of Apollo, contacted me two weeks ago. I've been wondering about it, and it seems we finally have our answer. If we can find her, the other two won't be so difficult to locate."
"Alana. You said they were special. What made her so special? If we do try to find her, what should we expect?"
"Alana won't be your biggest threat. She is gentle, not easily provoked. As to what makes her special, she created a rather unusual form of fighting. She was an extraordinary artist, and she figured out a way to bring her art to life."
"What?" Percy asked.
"Her drawings. She could literally bring them to life. Her specialties were monsters, real and ones she came up with. They were much more fragile than the real beasts, but they fought with the ferocity of the real thing."
"That sounds…terrifying," Percy said.
"It was. But, like I said. Of the three, Alana was the mellowest. She won't fight unless absolutely necessary."
"Good to know," Annabeth murmured. She was still running the idea through her head. Three half-bloods, born stranger than the rest, back in the world of the living even though they had been dead for decades. A trio as legendary as Annabeth, Percy and Grover were. A son of Hades, a daughter of Ares, and a daughter of Apollo.
It made no sense.
"And you really think they could help us?" Percy asked.
"I do," Chiron answered. He sounded absolutely certain of it. Percy glanced at Annabeth and a silent conversation passed between them.
"Alright. We'll do it."
Alana stared up at the stars, her mother at her side.
"You know, there is nothing more beautiful than that sky, especially in Italy. We have the best sky in the whole world," her mother told her, her thick Italian accent wearing in the words. Her honey brown hair sprawled out around her, standing out on the terracotta roof they laid on. It was hard to believe that anything was more beautiful than her, but Alana took her word for it.
Alana looked at the moon. "That moon is close to you, darling. It may not know it, but it's watching over you."
"But the moon is not always in the sky. What happens when it's gone?"
"Then the sun watches you. It is closer to you than anyone else."
Florence turned her head and took in her daughter with green eyes. "We are equally close to you."
Alana smiled slightly at that. She had always loved the sun. It was so warm and beautiful.
"I like that," she murmured. Florence smiled.
Then, there was a terrible shaking.
The roof collapsed in underneath their backs.
"How, exactly, are we going to find them? Did she say where she was?"
"Not in that many words, no. But, she did say the ocean was beautiful from where she was."
"So she's on the coast? That could be anywhere," Annabeth pointed out.
"She also commented on how America had grown since her last visit," Chiron said.
"That makes it a little easier," Percy said. "If she is on the coast, maybe I could pull a few strings, get some people to check out the beaches."
"Maybe, but even if you did, she could be in Hawaii or Alaska. We don't have that much time," Annabeth said, looking worried.
"I don't see any easier way."
"Chiron, you said she contacted you weeks ago. What makes you think she's still where she was?"
"Well, I have the letter right here," the centaur said, holding up a piece of lined paper covered margin to margin with neat handwriting. Even through the Iris message, both demi-gods could read the last line.
"Aaron, where do you think you're going," his mother called, watching her son warily as he raced through the wheat fields. He smiled insanely, letting out a crazed laugh. She shook her head before putting down her basket and racing after him. He glanced over his shoulder, running faster as his mother advanced. "Aaron you silly child! Come here!"
Her black hair floated behind her, her light brown eyes glowing with delight.
They were quickly flooded with fear as the ground beneath her opened up.
Aaron heard the groan of the earth and spun around.
Where his mother should've been, there was only a huge, bottomless gorge.
(A/N) I know I should be updating my SYOC story, but I've been having terrible writers block. I was hoping this would get my brain moving (it didn't really, but oh well). I'll update that one soon, I just need to force myself to write it.
I know their little biographies got shorter and shorter, but it wasn't just me being lazy. They serve a timing purpose.