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#I'm noticing a trend of talking inanimate objects in my own books
jflashandclash · 5 years
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Traitors of Olympus IV: Fall of the Sun
Thirty-Nine: Kalypso
I Argue with an Inanimate Object
             Kally almost slapped the Cloven Terror helm in surprise, but realized exactly how dumb that would look since she was wearing it. “You can talk?” she said out loud. “Um, to me? You’re alive?”
           She glanced towards the battle and felt a horrific sense of vertigo. As her gaze went to the peripheral of her vision, it expanded, showing everything on either side of her: the way Percy screamed on his throne, the two giants battling near them. Maybe near? Her depth perception failed.
           Disoriented, Kally returned her gaze to Alabaster, where his pale face stared back, patiently letting her get adjusted. Her vision returned to normal.
           Not all of us. We reflect the monsters they want to be. Ajax thinks silence is terror; Axel, the calculated insertion of an intelligent beast; Alabaster…
           There was a wry laugh.
           Besides, I was the first. I needed to come with an instruction manual.  
         Everything hummed. Kally could feel energy surge through her body. Green sparks erupted from the broken corner of the helm.
           Alabaster reached a hand out, pressing one of his rune pouches into her palm. He weakly gestured towards her Argonaut statue in her other hand.
           We made something for you, but, with my master in his current state, you must cast the spell. We had no time to test it.
           Kally wanted to inform the talking helmet that this was epic and cool, but they picked the wrong person. She wondered, if she had known this was how things would turn out, would she have followed Axel and Pax out of her school a few months ago?
           Without hesitation, she knew the answer was yes.
           “I can’t use magic,” she said.
           All creatures possess the ability to use magic. It’s whether you have the aptitude to excel. Now, cast with me.
           The words raced through her mind. Later, she would need to demand when Alabaster had the time for prepping this spell and exactly why he hadn’t done it before. She took Alabaster’s hand and the spell pouch, and pressed it against the Argonaut statue. If she had to guess, that statue was giving her the most skeptical look possible. When her mouth moved, she couldn’t tell if it was the voice of the helm or her own.
           “Incantara: revertetur,” Kally said, the helm’s darker tone whispering in harmony with hers.
           The statue glowed green as the rune pouch melded into the metal. Kally wasn’t sure what was supposed to happen. She didn’t feel any different, though Alabaster now looked paler. Knowing her luck, she just used all of Alabaster’s magic reserves to make her weapon cuss in squirrel instead of anything useful.[1]
           His quivering hand pointed behind her. His eyebrows furrowed, but that could have been from the pain. The ambrosia didn’t seem to have much effect on his broken jaw, though she guessed he would need a bit more than a godly pain killer for that.
           She didn’t like the idea of leaving Alabaster by himself, barely conscious, and unguarded. As though he could read her mind—maybe he could with the helm on—he withdrew his pistol and set it on his lap.
           “Okay,” Kally said, her voice cracking, “Okay. I’m going to go help the others. But, uh, I need you to protect this.” She took off her messenger bag and set it beside him. “Make sure no one else reads my journal,” she said lamely, since she couldn’t get herself to say, Yea, don’t die while I’m not looking. Or while I’m looking. Just don’t die.
           Alabaster rolled his eyes. Then, looked like he might throw up from the motion.
           As gently as she could, Kally kissed his forehead.[2]
           Then, she stood up and turned to face the battle. Preparing for the nausea and disorientation this time, she glanced to the edge of her peripheral, feeling her vision expand like a panorama photo.
           There was another monster on the field she hadn’t seen before. She didn’t remember anything in Greek mythology like this; it was huge, towering over the Roman’s field lights, matching the size of Eris. At first, her stomach clenched to think they’d have to fight another god, but it slammed into the goddess of Chaos with a, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to ruffle your feathers.”
           “Pax?” Kally said stupidly.
           The creature was humanoid, but it looked nothing like her not-really-ex-boyfriend. Talons busted through the back of both the monster’s combat boots. Its fingers were twice the length of a normal human’s or demigods, with black more talons further extending the digits. His forearms and thighs seemed twice as thick as usual.  
           Poking through the Silver-Tongued Snake’s helm, which had also grown, the face under was narrowed and pointed, not squishy.
           When he struck Eris, Kally couldn’t follow the speed of his movements, like seeing a snake or bird wind up for an attack, then only seeing the aftereffects.
           Ah, a feathered serpent. How utterly appropriate, the Cloven Terror muttered.
           With each slash of Pax’s talons, Eris giggled hysterically, regardless of whether she successfully blocked or not. Ichor splattered her clothing; Kally couldn’t tell if it was from Eris or Pax. Each time Pax drew close, she’d lash haphazardly out with a jagged knife coated in some black liquid and a smattering of his glittery blood.
           Every time they stepped, the ground shook.
           If Kally were looking at them with her normal eyesight, Pax would appear to be gaining the upper hand: Eris was rapidly losing ground. With the expanded vision, Kally could see Eris backing them towards the strawberry fields, where one misstep from their knife-talon family squabble could squish a stray camper or ghoul.
           Eris wouldn’t mind some flattened comrades. Kally suspected creepy eagle-snake Pax might be a bit traumatized if he had to pick demigod skeletons out of his boots.
           Behind them, the camp was in mayhem. Clarisse La Rue, several other Ares campers, and one or two Apollo children tried to corner Python. The massive drakon snapped around, swallowing one camper in a single strike.[3]
           The Romans were fighting their way through hoards of ghosts and ghouls to form a single rank and protect their sides. There were so many undead, several ranks were isolated and couldn’t make it to the conglomeration around the barracks or strawberry field.
           Some of the Greeks rushing out to help collapsed onto the ground, unconscious. Certain ones would stagger back to their feet, then turn on their allies.
           In the distance, by the cabins, Phobetor tried to keep piping on his flute for his sleep-hypnosis, but Hazel Levesque and Lou Ellen prevented him from gathering a sleep army. Each time one of the magic-users blasted or slashed him, he lost one of his sleep walkers.
           Although Greeks and Romans had been unprepared and several were dead, Kally felt like they were doing pretty well without the main heroes helping.
           In her counting of the gods that had been present at the Pax Tree Growing Party, she realized she was missing one: Atë.
           A puff of smoke whirled into existence by Clarisse La Rue’s legs. Kally didn’t see Atë fully materialize, just her tire iron smashing into the daughter of Ares’ calf.
           Clarisse crumbled to the ground.
           Kally clenched her Argonaut statue, focusing her vision on the smoke, allowing the panorama to narrow to her normal vision. Somehow, someone needed to stop Pax’s half-sister. How was she supposed to predict Atë’s movements to hit her? The goddess of Ruin and Mischief only seemed to appear at the least convenient place possible. (Something to add to the list of uncannily similarities between Eris’ children.) Otherwise, her victims were randomized.
           Don’t take aim. Just throw instinctively. Don’t even look, the Cloven Terror helm instructed.
           Yea, throw blindly into the middle of an active battlefield. What could possibly go wrong? Kally thought, disliking the helm’s ill-timed sense of humor. Knowing my luck it’ll miss, fly several hours away and clock Jason Grace in the head so the others can’t save Hemera.
           You are a child of prophecy. You predict the rash and unpredictable ruin of others, it responded, seriously. And, on the Jason Grace comment, I’m not seeing a downside.    
           Lou Ellen must have told Hazel to help the Roman ranks. The child of Pluto had turned to race towards where the Romans were about to be overwhelmed by a troop of undead, despite a friendly rhino’s attempts to mow the enemy down. As animal choices go, Kally winced at what Frank had picked with his recent concussion.
           As Lou Ellen moved her mouth to prepare a spell, something to deflect Phobetor’s oncoming hatchet attack, smoke vortexed near her.
           Kally took a step backwards to prepare a throw with her discus.
           You’re too late to save the daughter of Hecate. Accept that you cannot save everyone, then blind throw. Being the Cloven Terror, you must embrace that the end will justify the means.
           But if there’s a chance—
           She wanted to argue, but a surreal sense of disassociation stunned her mind. Kally felt like her thoughts had detached from the battlefield, from knowing Lou Ellen as Alabaster’s quirky half-sister, from caring that a demigod could die if she didn’t help them.
           A tugging sensation pulled at her stomach as her eyes fluttered shut. While Kally stepped forward into a full rotation, building up the power of her throw, she pictured Atë’s terrifying red eyes.
           Power surged from her body’s swing, from her step forward, up her spine, through her arm as she arched it, and finally, releasing through her fingertips.
           A hissing sound left her hand.
           Kally opened her eyes, searching for Lou Ellen.
           Her discus steamed and glinted gold in the field lights, but it wasn’t going anywhere near Lou Ellen.
           It hissed straight towards the rhino smashing through enemy ghouls.
           Oh gods, I’m going to hit Frank and give him another concussion, Kally thought.
           When the helm said she needed to accept she couldn’t save anyone, she didn’t think it meant she’d be murdering a Canadian.
           In a split second, she glanced over to Lou Ellen, across the battlefield. The child of Hecate lay on the ground, unmoving.
           Rage filled Kally. “Why did you make me do that?!” she shouted, wondering who was wearing whom.[4] She went to tear the helm from her head in a panic.
           A black wisp of smoke puffed out ahead of the rhino.
           As Atë went to strike Frank’s skull with her tire iron, Kally’s discus smashed into Atë’s arm. The tire iron flipped harmlessly into a ghoul’s head.
           Atë vanished again.
           The rhino stopped short, looking very confused, or Kally imaged that’s how a confused rhino would look.
           The discus—instead of slamming into the ground—did something very odd. The hissing golden metal sizzled green. It slingshot back towards them.
           Kally froze as the helm laughed darkly. If I wanted you to kill the praetor, I would have made you do far worse. Hecate’s Helms are more powerful when we work in harmony with our masters. Why do you think the Leonis Caput has weakened so? Now, I suggest you either duck or catch.
           The discus was closing in, fast. All the times Kally had hit people with it, she never thought about how much it would hurt to be on the other end. Maybe Alabaster’s spell was the most extreme of rejection letters, Uh, sorry, it isn’t going to work out. I’m too awkward to say that, so I decided it would be easier to kill you with your own weapon. It’s me though, not you.
           Kally sidestepped and extended her hand. As the discus passed her, she grabbed it, spinning with the momentum to decelerate the metal without ripping off her arm. In a weird, reverse spin, she stumbled to a stop.
           Kally’s breath felt ragged. She tentatively touched the helm. Yea, it had been right about Atë, but she did not like that moment of forced battle apathy.
           We’re not done here. Now, fight in the same manner you threw.
           “I say when we’re done. I’m wearing you, not the other way around!” Kally said, though her mind was focused on, In the same manner I—?
           Confusion gave way to a horrific sense of dread.
           Reflexively, Kally lifted her discus to be level with her throat.
           As she did, nails made a screeching sound against it. Something struck her discus, hard.
           At least it was that instead of her neck.
           Kally stumbled backwards, alarmed to see black smoke swirling on either side of her and unprepared to fight a goddess.
  Sorry I’m running so late! My brother and my new sister had their Nikah yesterday, so we were celebrating that alongside Easter and it has been a crazy busy month. Hope everyone had/is having a great Easter/Passover/return of Persephone!
Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed :D I feel like Kally needs to find a partner with better communication skills….
[1] Magnus might say this is very useful.
[2] Mel’s betanote, “AWWWWWWWWWWWW HOW GENTLY DOMESTIC!” Jack, “Alabaster would resent that comment.”
[3] Mel’s betacomment was just a picture of Meg from Disney’s Hercules from the moment he was eaten by the hydra <3
[4] Bought to you by the accidental alliteration association.
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