The Gift of the Lethe

The Return of Pallas

For a moment she doesn't know who she is, or where she is, but there is a girl kneeling in front of her with panic in her gray eyes. Eyes like Athena's. Then it all comes rushing back in a wave, the week of not knowing who she is, the week of memory pieces that didn't make sense, and the lifetime that rushes in through a now-unlocked door.

The girl is Annabeth, child of Athena and fiancée of Percy Jackson, Pallas' . . . she stumbles at that. Is he her brother or her uncle? This version of her is a daughter of Poseidon, but her mind, her soul, is the daughter of Triton. She shakes her head slightly to dismiss the thought, her family connections are unimportant right now. Annabeth shakes Pallas.

"Nadia! Are you alright?"

Pallas blinks in confusion, registering the damp cloth covering her legs. The water that she was controlling, it must have spilled. She looks Annabeth in the eyes and smiles, carefully speaking in English rather than the more familiar Greek.

"I'm perfectly fine, I promise."

"You are not fine. You were panicked, Nadia. And look."

Annabeth directs Pallas's attention to her hand, where the triton shell has been crushed into shards. Her face falls.

"Oh. Oh no."

Annabeth touches her shoulder. "It's fine, Nadia. We can get another one."

Pallas remains staring at her father's broken symbol, but she manages to mutter, "My name is not Nadia."

"What?"

Pallas tears her eyes away from the broken shell. "My name isn't Nadia. I don't want to be called that."

Annabeth tilts her head. "Okay, then what do you want to be called, and what brought this on?"

"My name is Pallas, and my life is what brought this on."

"I'm not sure I understand."

Pallas grins at the other girl. "I'm sure you'll figure it out pretty quickly. You see, Annabeth, your theory about the source of my memories was correct. A past life, bleeding through. And now I'm free!"

Annabeth frowns, a flash of worry crossing her features. "What do you mean, you're free?"

"My life was locked away before, and now I've found the key. I am myself in my entirety, more than the ghost I was."

"So you were reborn, and you still have your memories of your past life? But the river-"

"I don't know how, but yes-"

Annabeth cuts Pallas off. "Who were you?"

"Can't you guess? It's my name, after all."

Annabeth hesitates. "Pallas?" A nod. "The Pallas? The one my mother-"

Pallas slumps, the memory surfacing for a heartbeat. "Yes, that's me. I need to talk to her. And my father. Will you help me?"

"How?"

"Well, Athena certainly isn't going to take a message from a random demigod, nor will she take one from Percy. But she might come at your request. But . . . before I face her, I must tell my father. I must go see him."

"Wait for Percy to take you-"

"He's still sleeping. I'm not going to wait. This has taken long enough. My father has been in pain long enough, far longer than I would have liked. I'm going to end it now."

Annabeth mutters, "I hope you know what you're doing. He's a god, and you're just a demigod."

"I wasn't always. Besides, I'm positive I can keep him from doing something rash before I have a chance to speak."

"Still, I wish you luck."

Pallas smiles. "Thank you, Annabeth." She pauses. "While I'm gone, do you think you could find me a weapon? It feels strange to not have one."

"I can try, but I'm not sure if I'll have much time to stop at the armory, or if they'll even have weapons suited to you."

"Anything is better than nothing. It's just temporary, for now. Oh, and please tell Percy where I've gone and perhaps fill him in so he isn't confused?"

Annabeth nods in understanding. "Knock on the door when you get back, Percy doesn't have any classes today."

Pallas grins and pulls open the door, beginning her walk to the sea and beyond that, a swim to her father.

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Hi Pallas! Nice to see you!

What do you think of her? Did you expect this? What's going to happen when she talks to Triton? What about with Athena? Tell me your thoughts!

Happy reading and I'll see you next chapter!

~ Goddess of Fate, signing out