7/4/19: Yes, I'm back. Had a lot of stuff going on. Enjoy this. Also anyone like My Hero Academia? I'm considering uploading some fics here.

"You shouldn't be drawing attention to yourself," Malcolm warned the minute they stepped outside the Big House.

Annabeth sighed. One drawback to being a child of Athena was that your siblings were just as observant as you. "I know, I wasn't thinking straight." If the councillors hadn't cared before about the drama between her and Percy, they would be now.

To Annabeth's relief, her half-brother didn't pursue the subject, so they walked in silence towards Rachel's cave.

The rest of the camp was in the midst of their daily activities. Without meaning to, Percy's words floated up in her memories. She found herself watching for any campers with spiteful or fearful expressions.

A few of them spotted her and were gawking. Annabeth did her best to ignore them, but it took a lot to control herself from snapping at them to mind their own business. She kept her head held high and her gaze turned away from them.

They reached the Oracle's cave, which had finished construction, thanks to Apollo's enthusiasm to see his favourite Oracle get a "sick crib".

"Hello?" Malcolm called out as they brushed aside the vines that hung over the entrance.

"Hi. What's up?" Rachel Dare waved at them. She was sitting on her stool painting something Annabeth did not recognise. She wore a white apron over her pink shirt and denim jeans which was splattered with a myriad of colours, while her frizzy red hair was as loud as ever. It was starting to grow on Annabeth.

"I see you're enjoying your holidays," She observed dryly.

The redhead grinned. "Perks of joining an independent academy. Random days off whenever. Anyway, what're you guys here for?"

Malcolm started to explain his vision, but midway through, Rachel's eyes glowed green, and the usual green smoke poured from her mouth. He stopped talking, and Annabeth murmured, "Here we go."

The same choir of voices spoke:

The son of owl and daughter of rice

Shall rescue the children locked in vice

The acid green light cut. Rachel's mouth closed and she stirred as the mist evaporated. Annabeth blinked. "Wait. That's it?"

The redhead rubbed her head. "How much did I say?"

"Two lines," Malcolm replied, frowning. "There's a rice god?"

"Excuse me?" Rachel cracked a smile. Annabeth recounted the lines for her.

"I suppose it's a short prophecy for a short mission. I guess it makes sense, but in the first place, the Oracle only spouts prophecies for quests. It's a bit strange, isn't it?" Rachel said. Malcolm nodded slowly.

"We'll report back to Chiron, maybe he knows who's this daughter of the rice god is." He shrugged. "Thanks anyway, Rachel."

"Anytime."

Rachel watched the two leave. Once she was sure she was alone, she gingerly ran her hand along the rock walls. The two demigods had not noticed, but the Oracle's mist had corroded the granite, as though acid had been poured on it, leaving a rough, scarred surface. She winced as her fingers brushed the sharpness of it.

What does this mean? She wondered, staring at the wall.

"That is peculiar," Chiron muttered, stroking his beard. "Well, I suppose it doesn't exactly matter, given the simplicity of this task. Perhaps the spirit of Delphi was feeling off today."

"But do you know who this rice god is?" Annabeth inquired, feeling slightly offended that despite her pride on her knowledge of Greek mythology, even some gods she had yet to hear about.

He chuckled. "Not a rice god, per say, but there is someone in camp whose name does mean rice, in a way. Tanaka."

"Tana –" Malcolm's face blanched. "You've got to be kidding me. She's the last possible person you'd get for this sort of thing."

Chiron shrugged. "Then let's pray Ms Tanaka has been paying attention in her combat lessons, or that nothing occurs on your journey here. May the gods protect you, Mr Pace."

Malcolm's face scrunched up with uncertainty, like he had been presented with a wooden stick for a fight against Heracles, but nodded nonetheless. Chiron galloped off.

"She hasn't," Annabeth muttered from the side of her mouth. "You need backup?"

He frowned, considering the prospect of having a partner that actually knew how to hold a sword. "No, tempting the Fates seems like a bad idea. If it really was me and Drew in the vision, bringing anyone else would be a bad thing."

"I guess that is what sucks about fate," Annabeth thought aloud.

"What sucks even more is how to tell her this. She's going to freak that she'll miss the Revelries."

"Oh gods, you're right."

He stood a few feet away, feet frozen to the ground. He was petrified and confused. He had no idea what was happening, except that his mother was in the clutches of a half-man, half-bull.

The minotaur roared, its eyes bloodshot and full of rage.

His mother wailed as her whole body dissolved into golden dust.

"NO!" The vision faded to black in an instant as Percy tore himself away from the magic, panting hard. Sweat careened down his forehead and back, soaking into his shirt, despite the room being cool and comfortable.

"I'm sorry, Perseus," Hestia said. "I've overestimated your limits."

He drew a shaky breath, getting to his feet. "I...I need to go for a while. I'll be back soon."

To his surprise, Hestia predicted what he wanted to do, waving her hand at the hearth beside them. It flared and showed his mother in her apartment sitting at her computer. Blue coffee mug in one hand and the other typing away at her keyboard, he heaved a sigh of relief that she was safe, and not in the clutches of the Minotaur, dissolving into golden dust.

"Thank – thank you," Percy said, feeling embarrassed. "I know it doesn't make sense. I know she's fine. I just…"

"That fear you have is not irrational, Perseus, and you shouldn't think it such. I shouldn't have replayed that vision. My apologies. Perhaps other encounters would have served as a better start."

"No, that worked. I have to get over that. It's just…" He grabbed the edges of his seat tightly, sucking in a breath. "Harder than I thought."

"Take it slowly. There's no rush to this treatment, and I would not have it so either."

"I still don't get this whole...thing. How long is this going to take? What is this supposed to accomplish?"

"As long as it needs. To help you recover from the horrors of your past," Hestia replied.

"By watching my mom get kidnapped by the Minotaur over and over again?" Percy asked, unable to hide the tone of bitterness.

Hestia showed no change in expression, but entered a contemplative silence for a few seconds before saying, "Perhaps, but I concede that a change in pace would be better for you…"

Her voice trailed off, the flame in her eyes settling just for a moment, then they relit, focusing on Percy. "Come." She offered a hand.

"Which memory is this now?" He said.

"Not a memory. A sanctuary."

Slowly, he took her hand, and the two disappeared.

As his being reformed, Percy caught the sight of something beautiful.

On top of the lush green hill they stood on, it overlooked a blanket of sparkling blue ocean, while the setting sun blasted radiant hues of red and orange across the cloudy sky, like the scene of a tapestry by Arachne.

"The Bay of Milos," Hestia said, answering the question forming in Percy's head.

"Uh…"

"Greece," She explained, smiling at Percy's confusion.

His eyes widened. "We're in Greece?"

Hestia nodded. "We Olympians are still connected to our roots no matter what. Coming home is not much of a task."

The two stood, watching the view, neither saying a word to each other.

"Feel better?" Percy heard Hestia question behind him.

He took a deep breath, feeling the cool breeze rush through his nose. It was strangely exhilarating, yet calming.

"Yeah, thank you," He said.

The comfortable silence lingered for a few moments before Percy asked, "Hestia? Could you give me some advice?"

"Sure. About what?"

"It's Annabeth. Something happened last night. She looked sad — no, not just sad, but...crushed." He winced at the word. It didn't sound right. It didn't put a finger on what he really wanted to describe. Annabeth would have had no issue correcting his vocabulary, were she here.

"Like she was going through a lot," he added lamely.

Hestia tapped her chin in thought. "You could try talking to her about this. I don't have the full story, and neither do I want to pry, so that's all the advice I can give. But don't discredit an honest conversation. It sometimes works better than any other method."

"Alright. I — I'll try that." Percy thanked her.

"We should go. Your hour's up, anyway."

"Okay," Percy said, pouting slightly.

Another snap of her fingers, and they reappeared in Hestia's palace. Another finished session.

In Greece…

"You're not afraid," Python observed, flicking his tongue with a noticeable droop, as though disappointed. Its booming voice reverberated throughout the Cavern of Delphi, shattering small rocks and stalactites.

An acrid stench hung in the air, the poisonous gas rising from the cracks in the ground from which the snake appeared from. They hissed like tiny vipers heralding the arrival of their master, complementing the soft wails of agony from the priests and priestesses that lay there in various stages of decomposition.

"Predictable as ever, Python. I've seen your return, and my demise, for a long time now," the Oracle replied.

"Quite a shame you've concealed this knowledge from everyone, including your master," Python said.

"I have no master. You and I both know that Phoebus Apollo merely plays on the instrument of Fate. He knows only five strings, when there are five more he cannot control. If Fate decreed that he should know this, I would have informed him by now."

"And your oath has doomed you, and the world," Python hissed. "Tell me, why is fate so cruel?"

The Oracle sighed. "We have had this conversation before. If not me, then my predecessors, and like them, I will not answer that."

Python roared, rearing its head and striking the Oracle. As he withdrew, the only thing left of her was a taint of blood and disintegrating white linen on the ground. All around the cavern, the ruptures in the ground spewed acid-green smoke like incense at a festival, celebrating the end of the Delphic Oracle.