viii. leopards in sonoma

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viii

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viii. leopards in sonoma



the boat ride was semi-peaceful, surprisingly. they all sat in relative silence, percy using his neptune powers to guide the boat, gale and arcana sitting in the spaces in between the benches, with arcana leaning on gale as she messed with something in her spellbook, the elaborate drawings on the stained pages on display, that varied between drawings that gave a clue at what a certain spell was, and some that were completely random, like a pug playing with a chew toy, to a small person holding a sword, looking angrily at a larger being with a bloodthirsty look on its face. hazel and frank sat on the bench to the back of the boat, speaking softly to each other. the sun set in the background, replaced with the moon, and the stars that glittered like gems in the dark night sky. the chilly night wind blew through his hair, a feeling he always enjoyed.

the water flowed beneath the boat, controlled by percy's push and pull, his control and influence on it, willing to his silent commands. the fish swam below them, going to wherever they wished to be. gale turned, facing arcana's spellbook to see her sketching something else, most likely out of boredom. it was a ship, or what gale presumed was a ship, with people in bounds on the floor, fish-people walking around with boxes, and a pirate with a sword aimed at them. it was odd, yeah, but gale didn't question it, arcana's drawings were always odd, mysterious in a way.

he tugged at the small withering bracelet on his wrist, the nervous habit slowly coming back. he stared out at the night sky, finding comfort in the clouds passing by, and the stars twinkling like jewels. he guessed it was a jupiter thing, but the sky always interested him. perhaps it was him clinging to something from his childhood again, but his love for the sky never faded, even as he matured. the thought of sleeping on a cloud, counting the endless amount of stars until he gave up, the sun and moon switching places, and the beautiful blues and oranges streaking through the sky, it always brought him comfort, even in the darkest of days, when the words became too much, and the lasting marks became too painful to bear. he remembered cloud-gazing, trying to guess what they looked like before they drifted away. there was this one time where he could've sworn he saw a normal looking cloud turn into his father's sacred animal, an eagle. maybe it was a message from jupiter. part of him wished his father was looking down at him, proud to be his father, but part of him doubted it.

i mean, who would be proud of gale grace? he was mediocre at best. what son of jupiter would let himself be bullied for so long? what son of jupiter would often hesitate in battle, and crack under pressure? even mediocre was a bit much, so who would be proud of him?

part of him envied jason, slightly. he loved jason, really, he did, but he always envied the fact that jason could so easily put on a look of utter perfection while gale couldn't even get close to that.

the thought of jason brought back a memory, a good memory, from 2 years ago, when they went on a quest to find bacchus's missing leopard. and soon he found himself slipping, falling into the memories of the past.












OPAL SPARKS, percy jackson Where stories live. Discover now