Chapter Text
It was unfortunately easy to see who had been in battles before. It was easy to tell which of them had seen war before, and lived through the clean-up. Just in the way they switched from fighting for their lives to the aftermath process. Those who had made it through both the Titan and Giant wars, automatically started roaming the battlefield, looking for the bodies of the fallen that hadn’t been reached by a medic in time, or running to help their healers with triage and first aid. It was second nature to them, searching the battlefield for the flashes of orange camp shirts they all wore under their armor or for bodies of those they had killed; moving from killing to healing and helping. It wasn’t spoken, just done, the immediate split of where the retrieved bodies went, split between the side of the Gods and the side of the Titans, placed apart but with the same respect. The divide between the time travelers and those who were living this for the first time was clear, and the split amongst the time travelers who survived and those who didn’t was evident. Everyone who cared to look could see the three groups, even if many didn’t care why.
Of the time travelers, Castor was the most lost, the one who seemed unsure of what to do now that the battle was over, the one most like the other campers. Michael, Beckendorf, and Silena had some idea, having survived the invasion originally. But it was not automatic for them, not like it was for the others, for the ones who had lived through battles over and over, had lived through the aftermath over and over.
The rest of the campers caught on quickly, separating out the injured and the healthy and the dead. Clearing up rubble and weapons, discarded or broken. Then, once the battlefield was no longer a graveyard and instead just a reminder, the veterans turned. They split, checking their siblings and friends and fellow demigods. Checking their comrades. They got head counts, multiple times over, checking that everyone was accounted for, either dead or alive.
And as they did so, a quiet murmur going between them. A reassurance passing from time traveler to time traveler, from veteran to survivor.
“We made it to sunrise.”
There were too many shrouds.
There was less than last time their camp was invaded.
But even one would have been too many.
They knew that deaths were coming. They knew it was inevitable. They knew that – no matter what they did – they couldn’t stop everyone from dying.
But that didn’t stop them from trying.
It didn’t stop the pain when they failed.
There were eight shrouds to be burnt.
Fourteen shrouds less than the first time around.
Yet it was still eight shrouds too many. Eight shrouds for eight demigods who had died within the borders of the camp meant to keep them safe.
Golden yellow with a border of pale blue, decorated with laurel branches, rays of light shining from sun, and arrows. Lee Fletcher. Killed instantly by the club of a cyclops when he pushed his younger sister out of the way. Son of Apollo. He was 17. He was 17 and had died the same way twice.
Blood red with a maroon border, decorated with a single spear, helmet, and shield. West Hughes. Speared in the gut by a dracaena, shielding his partner getting healed. Ambrosia from the present healer did nothing. Son of Ares. He was 16.
Golden yellow with a deep green border, decorated with lyres, suns, and herbs surrounding a staff of Asclepius. Jordan. Clawed from behind by a hellhound while treating a fellow demigod, saving their life. Child of Apollo. They were 15.
Hot pink with a blood red border, decorated with doves, roses, seashells, and daggers. Willow Kennedy. Died after the battle from internal bleeding, having been thrown into a tree by a cyclops she charged. Daughter of Aphrodite. She was 14.
Blood red with a navy-blue border, decorated with a helmet, shield and sword. Jacob Smith. Died in the initial charge, holding the phalanx without fear until he fell. Son of Ares. He was 13.
Slate grey with a pale blue border, shimmering and decorated with olive branches surrounding an owl perched above two crossed spears. Emily Hills. Succumbed to injuries from the numerous monsters she killed, unwilling to leave the fight to heal. Daughter of Athena. She was 13.
Coppery orange with a light green border, decorated with snakes, crocus flowers, winged sandals, and a caduceus. Kylie. Killed by Luke as he emerged from the Labyrinth, struck down by a brother she had once looked up to. Daughter of Hermes. She was 13.
Earth brown with a border of wheat yellow and grass green, decorated with wheat, barley, poppies, geckos, and leaves. Lucetta Alder. Crushed by a rock thrown by Kampê. Daughter of Demeter. She was 11.
Nico led the funerals, all but demanded it to ensure they followed all the proper rites.
Everyone dressed in black or white after dinner, before gathering by the lake, where they’d lain their fallen heroes. Each cabin who had lost a sibling led the procession across camp, carrying their siblings, followed by the rest of the campers. There was crying and screaming, and there was singing. They reached the pyres, built earlier that day past the strawberry fields, away from the rest of camp.
Each fallen hero was honoured. Siblings and friends told stories of the fallen. A drachma was reverently placed in the mouth of each, their shrouds gently pulled over their heads. He spoke the prayers, loud enough to echo through the camp. The camp’s archers collectively released their arrows, heads alight, to land at the base of the pyres as the rest of camp began to sing a hymn to the fallen and to the chthonic gods, watching the pyres burn. As the arrows landed, siblings and friends threw tokens and gifts on the pyres, and others threw perfumes and spices. Watching the flames creep closer to the bodies and the shrouds, the fire bright against the night sky. Tears ran down faces. Some blamed the smoke. Others wiped them away with a sniff. Others still ignored them.
The veterans started singing, as the pyres slowly began to fade. A collection of songs they had sung at the end of this summer the first time around, and at all the funerals since. A collection of songs that spoke of their grief, and yet the celebration of the lives lost, and the relief that their friends would get to rest, that they wouldn’t have to keep fighting.
“If someone said three years from now you’d be long gone, I’d stand up and punch them out,” Percy began, voice slightly wavering slightly as he began, gently squeezing Annabeth’s hand linked with his.
“Cause they’re all wrong,” Annabeth joined in, voice cracking as she did so. “I know better, cause you said forever.”
“And ever. Who knew,” Malcolm’s voice was shaky as his voice joined Percy and Annabeth.
“Today could have been the day that you blow out your candles, make a wish as you close your eyes,” Will sang, ignoring the tears running down his cheeks as he started a new song, blending with and yet standing out from the song the others were singing.
“Today could have been the day, everybody was laughing, instead I just sit here and cry,” Michael sang, joining Will, voice shaky no matter how often he sang at campfires normally.
“Who would you be? What would you look like?” Katie joined in, wiping her eyes. “Today could have been the next day of the rest of your life.”
“When someone said count your blessings now, fore they’re long gone,” Travis joined Percy, Annabeth, and Malcolm, voice thick with his tears.
“I guess I just didn’t know how. Still you said forever and ever, who knew,” Conner joined in, voice melding with the other four even as it cracked.
“Not a day goes by, that I don’t think of you,” Jake and Beckendorf joined in, voices rough, not used to singing and tight with grief.
“I’m always asking why this crazy world has to lose,” Pollux joined in, voice joining the five singing this half of their songs.
“I wear the pain like a heavy coat. I feel you everywhere I go.”
“I see your smile. I see your face. I hear you laughing in the rain.” Clarisse started singing as their half changed songs, staring straight ahead at the flames.
“Still can’t believe you’re gone,” Silena joined in now, head leaning on Drew’s shoulder. “It ain’t fair you died too young.”
“Such a ray of light we never knew. Gone too soon.”
“Like a story that had just begun, but death tore the pages all away,” Nico sung, sitting on the ground and staring up at the stars.
“Would you have been president? Or a painter, an author, who sang like your brother. One thing is evident.”
“Gods barely know how I miss you, all the hell I’ve been through just knowing no one could take your place.”
“Would have given all I had, would’ve loved you like no other.”
“Sometimes I wonder who you’d be today.”
“Who would you be?”
“I’ll keep you locked in my head,” half of them switching back to their first song. “Until we meet again.”
“Here’s to the ones that we got, cheers to the wish you were here, but you’re not,” the other half sang, picking up a new song with barely a pause. “Of everything we’ve been through.”
“Cause the dreams bring back all the memories.”
“Until we, until we meet again. And I won’t forget you my friend.”
“Toast to the ones here today. Toast to the ones that we lost on the way.”
“I keep your memory. You visit me in my sleep.”
“Cause the dreams bring back all the memories. And the memories bring back memories bring back you.”
“I lost a friend, like money on a bad bet,” Travis and Conner were the loudest as they switched songs.
“Like time worrying about every bad thing that hasn’t happened yet,” the rest of their half sang louder, joining the volume of the Stolls. “I know I’ll be alright, but I’m not tonight.”
“Go and raise a glass and say. Here’s to the ones that we got. Cheers to the wish you were here, but you’re not.”
“I’ll be lying awake, counting all the mistakes I’ve made, replaying fights.”
“Cause the drinks bring back all the memories of everything we’ve been through.”
“I know I’ll be alright, but I’m not tonight. I lost a friend, I lost a friend, I lost my mind.”
“Toast to the ones here today, toast to the ones that we’ve lost on the way. Cause the drinks bring back all the memories, bring back memories bring back you.”
“I’m on the mend, like I’m icing a new sprain, like I’m walking on a new cane, like it’s been a couple days, since I slipped and said something sorta like your name.”
“Tell me what, does it look like, in Elysium? Is it peaceful? Is it free? Like they say, have your fears, and your pains, gone away?” As they switched songs again, their voices got louder, got both stronger and more choked.
“I know I’ll be alright, but I’m not tonight. I’m on the mend, but I lost a friend, I lost a friend, I lost my mind.”
“Cause here on Earth, it feels like everything, good is missing, since you left. And here on Earth, everything’s different, there’s an emptiness.”
“Now I see you in a better place. How can we not talk about family, when family’s all that we got? Everything I went through you were standing there by my side.” Multiple voices cracked as they changed to their last song.
“So tell me, what do you do down in Elysium? Are your days filled with love and laughs? Is there music? Is there art and invention? Tell me, are you happy?”
“It’s been a long day without you, my friend, and I’ll tell you all about it when I see you again. We’ve come a long way from where we began. Oh, I’ll tell you all about it when I see you again.”
“Cause here on Earth it feels like everything good is missing, since you left. And here on Earth everything’s different. There’s an emptiness.”
“We’ll remember you now you’re gone. So let the light guide your way. Hold every memory as you go, oh.” Both groups sang the oh, joining together for the last line of the songs.
“It’s been a long day without you, my friend. And I’ll tell you all about it when I see you again. We’ve come a long way from where we began. Oh, I’ll tell you all about it when I see you again. When we see you again.” They let their voices fade, continually repeating the last sentence until the crackling fire was louder than they were.
Slowly, demigods trickled away from the embers that had once been pyres. Some stayed longer, others retreated to their cabins, needing to be away from everyone when they broke down. Nico stepped towards the embers, quenching them with milk and wine, before kneeling reverently at each. He collected the bones and teeth of each fallen demigod, placing them each in a dedicated funerary urn. He passed the urns to the councillors for each of those who had fallen, knowing each cabin had different traditions on where they stored their funerary urns; Chiron’s only rule about them was to not store them in the cabins or Big House.
The councillors who hadn’t lost a sibling gathered as demigods started leaving, moving over to the other pile of bodies, placed respectively but far from the rest of camp. These were demigods who had fallen, fallen fighting for what they thought was right. Fighting for what they thought was the better option. And they would get the same respect any fallen soldier got, they would get the proper funeral rights.
Five black shrouds with white borders, absent of any notation of godly parent.
Five black shrouds with white borders, made with respect but no love.
Five black shrouds with white borders for the fallen demigods, fallen soldiers, of the Titan army. Five fallen who had not been collected by the army they fought for, even though all battle honour demanded the allowance of body collection.
Five demigods who had a coin placed in their mouths and shrouds pulled over their heads before a collective pyre was lit for them by a torch as Nico repeated the prayers. The councilors who had not lost a sibling watched in silence as the shrouds and bodies underneath them burned, releasing them into the afterlife. Whatever choices they made in life they would be judged for, but they would get the honor of proper funeral rights and make it to the Underworld.