Till Sunrise ┊Luke Castellan

4 .·:· The Prophet's Echo

Collier, John Maler. 'Priestess of Delphi'. 1891 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Words:  1,899

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The Big Houses stood before them, looking as imposing as ever. The tall wooden walls were painted a calming shade of baby blue, a colour that would typically have soothed Peryc's nerves, but instead, his gaze was full of apprehension. Unsure of what would await him in the attic.

"So you go up to the attic, wander around for a while, and you should see this old lady. Warning you, she looks-" Luke began, only to be interrupted by Phoebe.

"Her name is Pythia," she interjected, giving him a pointed look.

"... you should see Pythia. She will spout a bunch of super vague riddles. And then that's your prophecy." Luke finished quietly.

"What?" Percy looked up at them, his confusion etching across his features.

Phoebe crouched down to his level, her eyes softening with understanding as she began to explain. "So Pythia is a speaker of prophecies of Apollo. She used to be in Greece in a place called Omphalos, or Delphi. She would sit on a tripod above a spring, which whispered the future, she would breathe in the fumes and then speak on behalf of the gods." The air around them felt like it was crackling with the echoes of Delphi. "Now she inhabits a corpse in the attic and speaks her prophecy to the demigods leaving on a quest."

Percy's expression shifted to one of visible horror at the mention of a dead body. His eyes danced around nervously at the thought of having to interact with it.

Luke remained uncharacteristically quiet. His expression darkened and his jaw tightened. This talk of the oracle had triggered a storm within him. Phoebe, noticing this, intertwined her fingers with his, offering him a reassuring squeeze.

Percy looked up at her "What did it say to you when-"

"Oh no, I've never been selected for a quest" she confessed with ease.

"My bad, I just thought.." he trailed off.

"Don't worry about it. The gods need me here more." She reassured him, her voice full of acceptance and conviction. She gave her faith to the gods.

Luke was still reserved, prompting Phoebe to nudge him with her shoulder. He looked down and was met with a small comforting smile, he attempted a smile in return. Luke exhaled and released her hand. Leaving a subtle echo of goosebumps in its wake.

"Now up you go," Luke instructed with tightness in his tone, spinning Percy around in the direction of the Big House and patting him on his shoulder with a weighty reassurance.

"We will meet you at the pavilion when you're done" Phoebe added.

As Percy entered the Big House, disappearing from view, Phoebe turned to look at Luke, tilting her in question. Concern painted in her features as she studied him.

"I'm fine" he replied thickly, not bearing to look at her.

"Luke, if this is about your mu-"

"I'm fine, Pheebs, honestly," he interrupted her, his tone firm. She furrowed her eyebrows, unconvinced, but sighed and let it go for the moment.

He tried not to let his mind drift to thoughts of her.

May Castellan.

All alone in that big house.

Baking cookies for a son that wasn't...

Shaking his head, he tried to push away the shadows that clung to him. "Come on, let's go meet the others."