Well… Tapeesa was lost. Apollo—her dad?—gave her a plane ticket to get to Greece and a bus ticket to get dropped off in the middle of nowhere. It was wishful thinking that the bus would just drop her at the entrance of camp, no sweat. Super secret demigod camp probably wouldn’t be a normal stop on a bus route. Which made what her father told her make more sense. ‘The sun will be your guide.’ That was all well and good when the sun was still up. But it set like… an hour ago? Or, so she thought. It wasn’t like she was regularly checking the time. She preferred keeping her hands warm in her gloves and, if worse came to worse, morning would come and—Hey, sun!
If Tapeesa was more athletically inclined she might have made it to the camp already. It wasn’t like she was out of shape or anything, but she never played sports and didn’t recall ever being on a hike. The snow, she could handle. It wasn’t even that cold, honestly. But the trek up this hill, mountain, whatever in all the snow was the kicker. Her calves were burning before the sun started setting and she was in that weird state of sweating from the exercise and excessive layers of clothes, but cold from the breeze on her sweat cooled skin. It was like a fever without the fuzzy brain and body aches… Well, there were body aches but not that kind.
The longer the journey dragged on the more frequently Tapeesa had to take breaks. She found a small snow covered log off to the side of a narrow clearing of trees she had been using as a path. It wasn’t like there was anything else to lead her there and last she checked Apollo wasn’t the God of navigation. Tappi shuffled over to the log and dusted off the snow before taking a seat with a soft huff. She sniffled, her nose running from the chilly air, as she pulled her bag off her back and grabbed the thermos out of the side pocket. Steam warmed her face as she unscrewed the cap. She was thankful she brewed the tea extra hot, so even late and lost, her drink was still warm. Silver linings.
It was official.
Elias Trueno was so over Greece.
Every shred of romanticized expectation had been brutally crushed under the relentless heel of this frozen wilderness he now found himself stuck in. His initial vision, sparked by a glossy postcard of the impossibly blue Aegean, had conjured pure paradise: endless sunshine warming his skin, the savoury tang of olives, the sweet taste of local wine, and the lazy embrace of sun-drenched beaches. No one, absolutely no one, had thought to mention he’d be engaged in an arctic trek towards some fabled summer camp. His boots, now utterly useless sponges, offered no resistance to the pervasive dampness, while his socks had solidified into icy shackles roughly two miserable hours into this forced march.
This was the antithesis of paradise; it was a frigid fucking hell.
Elias stopped, duffel bag on his shoulder and breath fogging in the air like a pissed-off dragon. “This is great. Just great. Love this for me,” he muttered, eventually resuming his walk.
The bus driver had dropped him off with a wink and a casual “Follow the warmth,” like that meant anything to him. There had been no signs. No glowing golden path. Just a lot of frost, forest, and a stomach that hadn’t known satisfaction since the last gas station gyro twelve hours ago. His head throbbed softly with fatigue, static crackling faintly in his hoodie every time he shifted.
God of storms and travel, his ass.
Desperate for a sliver of warmth, Elias yanked the inadequate hoodie fabric tighter around his frozen ears, his voice a low, resentful growl directed at the indifferent sky. “Zeus, assuming you’re remotely paying attention... this qualifies as blatant child neglect. Just saying.” Almost immediately, a faint, distant rumble vibrated through the heavy air, sounding strangely hesitant, almost remorseful, though Elias dismissed it as the mountain’s indifferent grumbling or his own fatigue.
The hill confronting him now looked like it had been designed by a vengeful demigod with an obsession for cardio.
Elias stared it down. The hill stared back.
Eventually, he sighed and climbed. Again. And at the top, he slipped once and landed flat on his back with a groan. But when he looked up, something caught his eye. Movement. And then he could hear…some light sniffling?
“Please, please let that be a hot dog vendor and not a hallucination,” he said, stumbling toward the source like a raccoon chasing a heat lamp. And then…and then there she was.
A girl, alone in the snow. She was bundled in layers of fur-trimmed warmth, bright, colourful details on her coat standing out against the pale world around her. The shape of her was soft and solid, her curvy frame emphasized by the thick material she wore like it belonged to her. Black hair peeked out beneath her hat, a braid maybe, and her dark brown eyes widened just slightly as she spotted him, a thermos steaming gently in her gloved hands. Her cheeks and nose were flushed pink from the cold, though she looked warm enough compared to him.
Elias sniffed once, absently wiping his nose with the back of his sleeve. His own jacket was decent, sure, but it had a broken zipper he hadn't bothered to fix, and his hoodie underneath was more fashion than function. He’d lost one glove somewhere between the airport and the half-collapsed bus stop that definitely wasn’t a bus stop, and his beanie had flown off in a wind gust two hours ago. He hadn't turned back for it. It wasn’t worth freezing over. The static in his fingers was louder than usual, buzzing under his skin like a wasp hive, and he kept clenching and unclenching his bare hand just to keep the blood flowing.
“…Are you real?” he asked then, eyebrows raised, breath coming out in little huffs. “Because if you are, and that’s tea, I might just propose on the spot.”
For a moment Tapeesa thought the movement she saw out of the corner of her eyes was a figment of her imagination or an illusion from the steam. Her lips were on the brim of the warm metal brim when she heard a voice, the shock of it causing her hands to fumble and nearly drop the thermos. While she should have been wary of running into strangers… in the woods… at night. The poor boy looked half frozen to death like he had been dropped into an arctic tundra and told to figure it out. Whether or not it was smart, her nurturing instincts kicked in.
Tapeesa was on her feet and halfway to him before he finished his marriage proposal. She laughed and gently helped him take a drink from her thermos, seeing as his hands were half frozen and probably couldn’t grip a thing. “Well, you sure move fast,” she jested. After he got a good sip or two, she gently took his elbow, guided him over to the log and made him sit. “Go ahead,” she reassured him, lightly tapping the bottom of the canister, motioning for him to keep drinking.
“So, are you also looking for this ’super secret camp’?” she asked as removed her large fur hat and placed it on the stranger’s head, being sure to pull the flaps down over his ears and tie them in place under his chin. Tapeesa’s eyes widened when she realized she might have said too much. It’s not a secret if you talk about it, stupid. “If not, then I’m totally up here just enjoying a brisk hike and fresh air… that burns my lungs.” She laughed awkwardly. Yeah, lying wasn’t one of her strong suits.
The first sip of tea nearly brought tears to his eyes. It wasn't fancy. Just green tea with a splash of honey. Or was it lemon? Or black? He could never really tell, and, in that moment, it might as well have been ambrosia. Elias closed his eyes, tipping the thermos back to let the heat seep down his throat. When he opened them again, the girl was fussing with the hat on his head like some kind of mother hen. He had to blink at her. She was shorter than he by a few inches, but there was something solid about her presence he could pick up on already. Her hands were quick and confident as she tucked the fur flaps securely beneath his chin. She smelled like cinnamon and something earthy, like she'd rubbed her hands with warm spices before leaving home.
Elias stared at her from beneath the oversized fur hat, blinking as warmth began to seep back into his bones. “First date and you’re already dressing me? Alright.” He took another long, grateful sip of tea. “But yeah, secret camp. Gods, destiny, all the fun stuff. ”
Tapeesa laughed and shook her head, attributing his flirty comments to exhaustion and delirium. “So, you’re also lost I take it?” she asked, watching him grip her thermos like a lifeline.
She slowly reached out for the canister of tea. “I’ll give it back,” she promised in a gentle tone. Like a mother bird preening her young, Tapeesa adjusted her hat on his head and removed his one remaining glove. She pulled off her own furry mittens and set them down with his loan glove on the log beside him. “Hands,” she requested as she held out her right hand palm up, motioning for him to comply.
Once he offered up his hands, she took hold of them gently and looked them over for frostburn. The one hand that had the glove still looked relatively ok, but the other had gotten a little too cold, especially around the fingertips. Tapeesa sandwiched his hands between her warm palms and started rubbing them gently. To the naked eye, it looked harmless, but as her gaze fixated on him an unnatural, healing warmth radiated from her hands soothing the tingling, bringing sensation back to his fingers and reversing what frostbite had taken hold.
The intense numbness gripping Elias's fingers began to dissolve, replaced by a sudden prickling sensation. He inhaled through his teeth as thousands of invisible needles seemed to jab his skin, a startling yet welcome assault on his frozen nerves before a relieved groan escaped his lips. His breath came out in white puffs as his fingers flexed on their own, the feeling returning in waves. “You're... you're un ángel,” he murmured, watching in awe as the redness faded from his fingertips. Tapeesa's hands felt like miniature furnaces, the heat pulsing into his skin.
A warm and friendly smile slowly grew on her face as she laughed softly. After a minute or so of rubbing his hands, she checked his fingers once more. When they seemed healthy and pink from the warmth, she slid her mittens on him before they could get cold again. “You’re sweet, but you can just call me Tapeesa,” she started introductions, looking between the others with a kind smile.
Tappi’s face scrunched up when she studied his open jacket. Still preening, she tried to zip it only to notice the zipper was broken. She settled for fastening some of the snaps to try and keep out some of the winter’s chill. “Bring this to me later and I’ll fix it,” she demanded tenderly like a concerned mother. Dressing appropriately in the winter was no joke. And while it didn’t get as cold here as it did in Nunavut, that was still no excuse.
She handed back the thermos then rifled through her bag until she found the couple of snacks stowed away, just in case. There was a sandwich, granola bar and an apple. After debating for a second, Tapeesa pulled out all three and held them out toward Elias with a compassionate smile. “You look hungry.”
Elias stared down, baffled, at his hands suddenly swallowed by the incredible softness and bulk of her mittens. The thick lining felt alien against his skin, and his eyebrows pulled together, forming deep creases on his forehead. This unexpected act of kindness, so effortlessly warm and given without any demand for repayment, felt completely foreign to him, especially after hours of relentless cold and frustration. When she spoke her name, his gaze snapped back up to her face.
Clearing his throat roughly, Elias found his voice, though it emerged hoarse at first. “Elias,” he offered, managing a small, crooked half-smile. He continued to watch the girl in front of him, fascinated, as her fingers moved with surprising dexterity, fussing with the broken snaps on the front of his useless jacket. Her focus was entirely on the task, a small frown of concentration on her face as she examined the damaged metal.
When she confidently promised to fix the broken fastenings, a soft puff of air escaped Elias’s lips, forming a brief cloud in the cold. It was a sound of pure disbelief, a reaction to her matter-of-fact solution to yet another of his problems. How could someone just do that? He shook his head, a wry expression forming.
“You fix jackets and hands?” he asked, holding up his now-mittened hands, the static buzz beneath his skin momentarily quieter. “What don’t you do?” He couldn't fathom the limits of her seemingly endless helpfulness, as it seemingly extended to food.
Elias could never.
Nonetheless, the boy stared at the outstretched food like it might disappear if he looked at it too long. His eyes went to the sandwich (too generous), and then the apple(too fresh). But the granola bar? That he could justify. He reached for it carefully, like accepting a gift he wasn’t sure he deserved, and stuffed it into one of his coat pockets.
Tapeesa’s lips turned downward, sticking out her bottom lip as she thought, with some exaggeration, on how to answer his question. She blew a small puff of air out of her lips while watching him decide on the granola, of all things. “I can’t drive,” she added plainly, as if she just admitted to disliking peas. Her mother and grandfather passed before they could ever teach her. Then spending the rest of her life in an orphanage didn’t really open up the possibility of learning to drive.
Before Elias could argue, because she did not believe that the granola would suffice, she heard his stomach growling, Tapeesa tucked the ziploc containing the sandwich into the pocket of his jacket (the same one with the granola bar). “Just in case,” she said gently while zipping back up her bag.
“You’re gonna ruin me,” he muttered, holding the granola bar like it weighed more than it should. “I haven’t even earned my keep yet.”
Her smile widened as she stood up and dusted the snow from her knees. Tapeesa shrugged her shoulders. “You needed help,” she said with a simple finality, like it was normal to do all that for a stranger. It wasn't to other people, but she always believed in helping others when she had the capability. “You get out of the world what you put into it. That’s what my Ataata always told me.” she pulled the hood of her coat up over her head then slid her bag back onto her back. For a quick second she reached out and slipped the thermos out of Elias’s hands so she could take a small sip, then handed it back with a reassuring nod.
Tapeesa hooked her thumbs under the straps of her bag, adjusting it on her back with a little bounce. “Soooooo… You wouldn’t happen to know which way was the right way, would you?” she asked with a tight lip smile, rocking back and forth on her heels. “Because all my father told me was ’the sun will be your guide’ and there’s no sun.” She sighed and motioned her hand toward the night’s sky full of nothing but stars and a waxing crescent moon.
A quiet, almost dismissive puff of air escaped Elias's lips as he tilted his head back, following her gaze towards the vast expanse of sky thickly scattered with stars. The bitter cold still gnawed at the exposed skin of his ears and neck, yet the profound difference those mittens made was undeniable. His hands felt strangely large and clumsy inside them, but the deep, penetrating heat was a simple, almost miraculous comfort.
“I don’t know which way is right,” Elias admitted. “But if we die out here, at least I’ve got warm hands and a thermos. That’s already the best part of my week.” It was only half a joke; the simple comforts were a big improvement.
He hesitated, his gaze darting upwards once more towards the cloud cover obscuring the higher atmosphere. The idea forming was dangerous and unreliable, but he felt the need to suggest it anyway. “I could try to get a look from above,” he offered slowly, each word reluctant. “Won’t get me far in this weather, but maybe just enough to spot something…”
“Oh, you can fly?” Tapeesa said with a curious enthusiasm. “You can borrow my jacket, if it’d help?” she offered, lifting one of her bag straps off her shoulder in preparation to hand over her coat.
Elias blinked, startled, not just by the easy offer but by how she said it, like flight was no more unusual than borrowing a pencil. He lifted a hand, the oversized mitten flopping as he waved it off. “No way. You give me that jacket, and one of us actually is going to freeze. Besides… I look ridiculous enough in these.” He wiggled his mittened fingers. “No need to complete the look with a puffball parka I’ll end up setting on fire.”
He exhaled through his nose, eyes drifting back to the sky. “Thanks, though.”
“Fire?” she asked rhetorically while looking him over in confusion. Who the hell was his parent?
Elias, after tossing his bag a good enough distance away, shifted his stance and settled his weight more firmly on the snow-covered ground. Inside the mittens, he absently cracked his knuckles, a nervous habit, before nodding towards the seemingly endless, featureless expanse ahead.
“Yea. So, might wanna stay back a bit. Not sure how smooth this’ll be, and I’d rather not take you out with a rogue gust.” The concern was genuine; the last thing he wanted was for his attempt to help to injure the one person who hadn't left him frozen and miserable.
As he spoke, the previously still air around them began to stir faintly, lifting loose snowflakes in lazy spirals. Elias rolled his shoulders and neck, muscles tensing, then lowered his center of gravity into a preparatory crouch. Inside the mittens, his fingers flexed involuntarily, like live wires seeking connection, already reaching for the crackling current building within him, a storm preparing to rise.
Tapeesa took the thermos from him and screwed the cap back on. She shuffled through the snow towards the treeline trying to give herself a good distance, as requested. And while she dipped behind a particularly large tree for protection from… Well, she wasn’t quite sure. She couldn’t help but poke her head out around the trunk to watch and see what happened. After all, being able to fly and whatever with fire was far more interesting than small balls of light or healing frostbite.
The wind didn’t immediately explode into life; rather, it slowly gathered itself as Elias exhaled, pressing his mittened hand onto the frozen ground. Almost immediately, a familiar sensation crawled up his arms: a shimmering network of static energy, visible as golden lines glowing just beneath his skin like trapped lightning. The air around him grew strangely dense, heavy with potential, tugging insistently at his clothes and hair and pulling upwards with a force that felt both exhilarating and unnerving. It was a precarious balance, holding the building energy steady and focusing it downwards to push against the earth while containing the volatile current within himself. He braced himself, every muscle coiled tight, anticipating the release.
Until it happened.
A concussive crack erupted beneath his boots, the stored force detonating downwards. A perfect ring of powdery snow blasted outward like a miniature, silent explosion. Simultaneously, wind and raw electricity surged upwards in a powerful column, propelling Elias skyward in a dizzying, blurred rush. A thin, fading trail of brilliant sparks fizzed and crackled briefly in the air behind him, marking his path. His climb wasn't smooth or effortless; the biting cold had stiffened his muscles, making movements jerky, and without the natural updrafts of a brewing storm to assist him, every ounce of lift had to be painfully generated and sustained by his own straining power. Hovering even briefly was a massive drain; his breath came in ragged, visible bursts, frosting hard in the frigid air, and a fine tremor ran through his arms and shoulders as he fought fiercely against gravity’s relentless pull, forcing himself to remain aloft just a few crucial seconds longer.
The loud crack reverberated around the silent clearing and rang in her ears. Tapeesa ducked her head behind the tree truck just before the following burst of air sent a wave of snow flying in every direction. But once it settled, she couldn’t help her curiosity. She waded through the nearly waist deep snow mound to get out from under the trees. Her hood fell backwards off her head as she looked up to the sky searching for him. If it wasn’t for the fizzing trail he left behind, Tappi wouldn’t have seen him against the dark void of night.
Above the canopy of snow-laden treetops, the frozen world unfolded in a vast, intimidating expanse of white and grey. Despair threatened to creep in until…there. The welcoming glow of contained firelight in the distance. A bonfire, most likely. Relief flooded through the boy at the sight, momentarily overriding the bone-deep exhaustion. He fixed the direction firmly in his mind, a mental map snapping into place of its relative position to their current one. That was the goal.
He didn't waste another second fighting the air. Tilting his body forward, Elias angled himself into a shallow, controlled dive, letting the insistent pull of gravity combine with his remaining forward momentum to accelerate his descent. The landing, however, was far from elegant. His boots hit the deep snow with a heavy thump, skidding several feet and spraying plumes of white before his forward momentum finally dumped him hard onto one knee with a pained grunt. The impact sent a jolt up his leg, and he braced his mittened hands against the snow, head bowed, gulping in great lungfuls of the freezing air. His muscles screamed in protest, and the static beneath his skin buzzed erratically, protesting the sudden cessation of effort.
He remained kneeling for some time, simply trying to regain control over his breathing and the frantic buzzing in his nerves. Then, he lifted his head, his eyes narrowing against the spots of light dancing in his vision from the exertion and the sudden descent and fixing on the spot where Tapeesa waited. Despite the ache in his knee and the tremor still running through him, a spark of hard-won triumph cut through the fatigue. “I think I found it,”
She watched him descend back to the ground, faint anxiety twisted in her chest. She didn’t know why, but she imagined landing was far more complicated than taking off. It looked controlled, until the end. Elias’s landing was hard. There was sliding, stumbling and a hard fall to his knee. She grimaced and turned her head away until his voice broke through the quiet stirrings and heavy breaths. “Oh, good,” she said, relieved. The last thing they needed was him going through all of that and nothing coming of it.
Tapeesa’s legs made trenches as she made her way over to him. She, once again, knelt down in the snow and motioned her hand in a silent gesture telling him to shift his weight off his knee and take a seat. “You’re going to keep me in the healing business at this camp, aren’t you?” she teased while her fingers gently pressed around his knee, over his damp pants. Her right hand gently rested on top of his knee, followed by her left. Her eyes slowly closed and brows furrowed as she focused. Her lips moved as she silently mouthed Inukitut sayings her mother said when she healed people. A warmth radiated beneath her palms, emitting a faint glow that escaped between the small cracks in her fingers.
A rough, slightly embarrassed puff of air escaped Elias as Tapeesa closed the distance. He felt utterly winded, his lungs still burning from the effort of the flight and the jarring impact, mixed with a hot flush of self-consciousness at his clumsy landing. “Pretty sure I stuck the landing,” he mumbled towards the snow, the sarcasm thick even though his voice was weak.
He knew perfectly well his arrival had resembled a sack of potatoes falling off a truck.
The boy shifted his weight off the knee that had taken the brunt of the fall, wincing as the joint protested, and allowed himself to simply collapse backwards into the deep, forgiving snow with an involuntary grunt. As her hands pressed gently over his leg, the tension in his jaw ticked. Not from pain, but from the sudden warmth spreading through the joint. It wasn’t just the glow or the heat. It was the care. So focused and, once again, so unearned.
He stared at her, more serious than he meant to, before awkwardly looking at her hands doing their work.
“Thanks…again.”
She smiled and nodded her head in acknowledgement as she continued mouthing her mother’s words. After a minute or so the light faded and it was like nothing had ever happened to him. Tapeesa smiled, pushing off her knees so she could stand. On her feet, she held out a hand to Elias, offering to help him up. “That was cool,” she said as her smile grew slightly. “So… Zeus?” she asked with a slight cock of her head. The flying and sparkle trail might have tipped her off. Although she could also be completely wrong. She had little to no knowledge about the Greek Gods before her dad showed up out of nowhere. Tappi spent the majority of her travels getting to Greece reading up on whatever she could find about the Gods. The more she read the worse she felt about it all, but she couldn’t really help who her parents were.
Elias took her hand and let her help him up, brushing snow off his coat like it hadn’t just tried to eat him alive.
“Yeah. Zeus.” The name left his mouth without hesitation. He hadn’t always said it that easily, though. For years, it had just been a suspicion, but when that letter came, something had clicked. The lightning, the rages, the way the sky sometimes listened when he screamed, it all made sense.
It wasn’t just some fluke of biology. It was divine design.
And knowing it? Confirming it? It hadn’t scared him. It had felt like claiming something that had always been his.
Elias blinked back into the present and jerked his chin toward the northeast. “Saw a bonfire that way,” he said, nodding toward the dark treeline. “Could be the camp. Could be a trap. Either way, it’s warm, and I was told to follow the warmth sooo.”
“Ok.” She nodded her head, agreeing to follow his lead. “Apollo,” Tapeesa added while pointing to herself, offering up the information as casually as he answered her a moment before. She didn’t know if that was obvious or not with all the healing, but it was also possible Elias had little knowledge about the Gods like she did about 48 hours ago.
Elias squinted at her, the name Tapeesa spoke of ringing a bell. He mentally scrambled, trying to place it precisely within the confusing jumble of gods and their domains he was still struggling to categorize.
“Apollo… like, music and sun guy?” he guessed. “Or was he the poetry one? Honestly, I’m still catching up on the whole dysfunctional god family tree.” Then, with a quick glance at her hands, “Makes sense though with the glowy hands and the... well, the warmth. Sun god. Healing. Fits.”
Suddenly, Elias blinked, the bus driver’s strange advice about “following the warmth” coming back to him. At the time, he assumed it meant something obvious, like the bonfire he’d just seen. But now, walking beside her, he caught himself wondering if maybe the old man had meant something else entirely.
He physically shook his head as if trying to dislodge the thought before it could take root.
Nah. That was reading way too much into a random comment from a probably senile bus driver. It had to be a coincidence. Attributing deeper meaning also felt dangerously close to accepting some grand, preordained plan, and Elias Trueno was decidedly not a fan of plans, especially divine ones that started with freezing hikes and ended with… well, who knew?
Keep it simple, he told himself. Follow the visible heat, and ignore the metaphorical warmth walking beside you .
Tapeesa nodded her head. “Sun, healing, music, poetry… and archery?” One eye squinted as she tried to recall what she read. “I think. I was trying to study up on all this while I was on the plane,” she confessed with a guilty shrug. “Finding out I was a demigod kinda flipped my whole outlook on religion around a bit.” As she said that, her hands moved around in the air like she was unscrewing an invisible jar.
“Guess we’re in the same boat then,” Elias replied, although this wasn’t true in the same way it may have been with his companion. Religion had never been something he held with both hands. His mom had grown up steeped in it, but by the time Elias came around, all that remained were the small traditions and a cross tucked in a drawer. He’d always thought of the divine as metaphor, not something that could summon lightning through your skin. But here he was.
She pulled the furry hood of her parka back over her head and pulled the zipper up as high as it would go to block her face from the wind. With her hands now bare, she slid them into her pockets to avoid her own bout of frostbite. “I do have to warn you,” Tapeesa started, ducking below a low hanging tree branch as they headed in the direction of the bonfire he saw. “If it’s a trap, I'm kind of useless in a fight.”
Elias snorted at that after retrieving his bag and leading the way forward. He cast a glance back at Tapeesa, her hood drawn tight, hands buried deep. She looked small out here. Fragile, even. That realization made him frown a little, an unfamiliar, protective impulse he didn’t quite know how to handle stirring inside him.
“Don't worry,” he said, turning his focus back to the path ahead. “If there's trouble, I'll handle it.” He knew his capabilities, chaotic and draining as they were; he was a walking lightning storm, however uncontrolled. “Or,” he added, a pragmatic afterthought in mind, “at the very least, I’ll give you time to run.” He’d be the obvious distraction, the loud, sparking nuisance drawing attention. Ensuring she got away felt like the only logical course, a necessary trade-off.
She looked over at him when he snorted, a confused yet curious smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. While Tapeesa knew nothing about her traveling companion, in some unexplainable way she believed that he was being truthful. Maybe it was watching him fly, or the sparkles (electricity?), or maybe just because he looked like the kind of guy capable of holding his own in a fight, but something unseen and subconscious told her he could handle it, whatever it was… And with ease, probably.
“I’ll have you know I might not be able to fight, but I am no coward,” she clarified with a little skip in her step for emphasis. “I wouldn’t leave you behind.” Tapeesa’s words had a finality to them, not harsh or fatalistic, but like someone making a promise they had every intention of keeping. A promise to go down with the ship rather than flee probably should have had some more weight to it, but she was not the type of person to leave someone behind or leave them to die alone. It was a dangerous mentality and lacked self preservation, but she was her mother’s daughter after all, and giving up was never an option.
The notion that Tapeesa would actually choose to stand her ground and fight alongside him if danger arose struck Elias as both darkly humorous and utterly ridiculous. He didn't break stride, but he couldn't resist a look back over his shoulder, catching sight of that almost childlike skip in her step as she followed. She’d stated her intention with such conviction, as if unwavering loyalty was the most natural thing in the world, as if the universe operated on the same straightforward principles of solidarity she clearly lived by. It was a perspective so alien to his own experience of conditional alliances and self-preservation that it bordered on naivety. Who even operated like that? Especially with someone they’d just met?
Tapeesa apparently did.
Elias’s lips quirked at the corner nonetheless.
“That's... good to know,” he acknowledged, the admission feeling strange on his tongue. “But it really isn’t necessary.” He hitched the strap of his bag higher on his shoulder, a small adjustment that also bought him a second to gather his thoughts. “I'm not dying out here,” he stated firmly. “That'd be a pathetic waste of whatever this is, and definitely a waste of the name I supposedly fall under.” Failing Zeus, even inadvertently, wasn't an option. His survival wasn't just a preference; it was a point of stubborn, personal pride.
Tapeesa looked over at him when his tone became more definite and sure. She couldn’t help but wonder what kind of relationship he had with Zeus to harbor such a prideful loyalty. He didn’t refuse to die for himself or the sake of survival, but for the God that brought him into existence. Tappi had no qualms or disdain for her own father, but she didn’t know if she had such a strong sense of blind loyalty either. What she did wasn’t for him or to make him proud, but for her mother, for her grandfather. They were the ones who raised her. She owed him for her existence and her gifts, but she didn’t live for him. She lived for herself.
Her mind kept circling back to his words, ‘a pathetic waste.’ It was a heavy opinion. Something about it rubbed her the wrong way, like the thought of him living for Zeus was a dangerous frame of mind. Tapeesa read the stories, yesterday in fact, and one theme always ran true, they demanded blind loyalty, worship and respect, without earning it. They were vain and vengeful. These ethereal beings in the sky that were no more familiar to them than aliens. They were the Gods’ pawns. She feared them. She would do her best not to anger them, but her life was her own, no matter who brought it into existence.
“Death is just a part of life,” Tapeesa replied looking forward. Loose hairs whipped around her face with every gust of wind. Indigenous people from all walks of life, from the freezing North to the scorching South saw death as the next stage of life. It wasn’t the end, but a new phase… The next step. “I mean, we already know there’s an afterlife. If Zeus—” she pointed to Elias, “—And Apollo—” she pointed to herself, “—exist, then so does Hades and the Underworld.”
She took a few more steps before continuing. “Even so, no one’s life is a waste, no matter how short.” Tapeesa’s head slowly tilted back to look up at the sky as if she might catch a glimpse of Olympus, hovering in the darkness among the stars. In her own weird way, even if the Gods were just puppet masters and they were their toys, she still had this belief that everything happened the way it did for a reason. If it was the Gods, fate, the fates, or just the stupid burden of religion to give meaning to the unknown, there was a purpose. Their life was no more meaningful than anyone else’s.
The words Tapeesa spoke didn't sit well with Elias, though he wasn't sure why at first. Was it her disturbingly casual tone when discussing death, treating it with the same inevitability as sunrise or snowfall? Or was it the deeper implication buried within her statement, i.e. the suggestion that his existence, his very identity forged by divine blood and chaotic power, held no more intrinsic value or permanence than that of the most forgotten mortal who’d died in a random ditch somewhere? The idea that the name “Trueno,” the legacy of Zeus himself thrumming in his veins, could be erased as easily as any anonymous life extinguished in obscurity felt like a profound insult, a dismissal of everything he’d struggled to understand about himself.
“That's not how I see it,” Elias said after some thought, not looking at her as he spoke.
“My mom used to say life was holy just because it happened. That the storms didn’t need to explain themselves. But she’s not the one who got chosen. I was. I didn’t ask for it, but it means something. It has to.”
His lips pressed into a tight line.
“So no,” he declared, his voice gaining a harder edge, “I’m absolutely not dying lost out here in these fucking woods. And I’m damn sure not going quietly if it comes down to it.”
He shook his head once, more to himself than to her.
“Because if someone like me can just vanish without a trace, without consequence, then all of it, everything she endured, this…this power burning inside me. It would all mean absolutely nothing.” And it couldn’t mean that. His life, his struggles, and his pain couldn’t be for nothing. He wouldn’t let that be true.
She listened quietly and intently. Tapeesa’s views appeared to have hit a nerve. She wasn’t going to apologize for her opinions, but she could respect his own perspective as well. Her head nodded slowly, acknowledging everything he said. For a brief moment her lips parted, a thought hanging off the tip of her tongue trying to be set free. In the end her lips closed and she ate the comment, not wanting to upset him or make him feel like he was an insignificant cod in the machine of life.
“I hope you find the fulfillment you seek at camp, and I’ll do my best to help you get there in one piece.” Her voice was soft, perhaps a bit timid, but still genuine. Tapeesa didn’t think they would die getting to camp and if Elias was as important as he thought he was, Zeus would intervene before letting his son die. Wouldn’t he?
The farther they walked the more aggressive the weather became. The cold made her septum ring feel like ice making the tip of her nose pink and numb. She found herself sniffling and mindlessly rubbing at it every few steps. Snow fell in flakes the size of marbles and the wind blew hard enough it made Tappi’s braids whip and bounce around violently outside of her hood. After the third time one smacked her eye, she had no choice but to tuck them into her coat.
As she became aware of the progressively worsening conditions and dropping temperatures, she slipped one arm free from her bag’s strap so she could dig through it and retrieve the thermos. It took a couple tries to get it open with some of the sensation gone from her fingertips, but it eventually popped open with a small column of steam. She had a few sips before holding it out to Elias. “Here,” she said, encouraging him to take it with a light nudge of his arm. “The weather’s getting worse. We need to stay warm.”
After handing off the tea, Tapeesa kept close enough that their shoulders occasionally brushed as they walked. It wouldn’t do much to combat the cold, but if it turned into a blizzard she didn’t want to lose him in the confusion of a white out either. She knew how disorienting a heavy snowstorm could be. The last thing they needed was to get separated when there was no one else for miles. “Sorry,” she apologized, but remained close. He could forgive her later.
Elias didn’t say anything at first. He took the thermos with a grunt of acknowledgment, the heat bleeding into his fingers through the mittens. His cheeks were red, hair stiff with frozen wind, and the tip of his nose stung like it had been slapped.
“You’re gonna run out of tea before we even make it to camp,” he pointed out while taking a sip anyway. The heat hit his throat like a small miracle.
“That’s the point, isn’t it?” she asked with a playfulness in her tone. “I didn’t pack it to have when I got to camp.”
Fair, Elias thought. When she closed the small distance between them, walking so near that her shoulder occasionally brushed against his arm as they moved, he instinctively tensed. This unasked-for sharing of space was honestly foreign territory for him. Slowly, however, he forced himself to relax, leaning somewhat towards the source of that persistent kindness (and yes, he admitted grudgingly to himself, the undeniably cute presence) walking beside him.
It was strange, though. Elias had been close to people before. Closer than this. But, at the same time, not like this. He’d always been the one controlling the shape of the contact. Not the one just walking beside someone who definitely didn’t have those expectations in mind and who was so…mothering.
And so, without fully realizing why, he gave something back.
The wind softened.
It wasn't an immediate, dramatic change, more an elusive easing. The snowflakes stopped whipping violently against their exposed skin, and the invisible, pushing hands that had fought their every forward step seemed to lessen their resistance, making the trek marginally less exhausting. Still, Elias didn't comment on the sudden pocket of relative calm enveloping them. He didn't look at her either. However, a subtle tightening along his jawline betrayed his intense, silent focus. It felt like he was mentally gripping something powerful and chaotic, holding it carefully in check through concentrated willpower.
“Let’s move before whatever this is changes its mind.” Or, he thought privately, before he lost his grip on the energy required and simply passed out from the combined fatigue and power drain. He thrust the thermos back towards her without turning his head, his gaze fixed ahead. Already, he was walking with a fraction more determination, propelled by the need to capitalize on the temporary respite he’d provided them. As they pressed forward, Elias reached into his coat pocket and fished out the granola bar she’d given him earlier. The wrapper crinkled as he tore it open with his teeth and bit off a chunk, chewing without comment.
Tapeesa looked around like she was searching for the source of the storm’s ease. It was like they were in a pocket that kept the strong winds and snow going around them on either side, like a current parting around a stone in a river. She looked over at him to see if the change in weather left him as confused as it did her, but if anything he seemed focused with his gaze locked forward. Just as she noticed the tense flex of his jaw muscle he shoved the half empty thermos back to her. The abrupt, and a little forceful, gesture caused her to misstep off balance while her hands fumbled to take hold of the canister.
“Right,” she agreed with a faint sheepishness in her voice. “We have to be close… Right?” Tapeesa tried to sound confident while twisting the lid back onto the thermos.
He finished chewing and wiped his mouth with the back of a mittened hand.
“Yeah,” Elias replied, tone gruff but not unfriendly. “Should be soon.” His steps adjusted, subtly syncing to hers. Not that he noticed, and not that he’d admit it even if he did.
Then, with the kind of abruptness that made it clear he’d been overthinking it for at least thirty seconds too long, Elias said, “I’ll probably figure out where the food is first. Not that the granola bar wasn’t appreciated. I just… eat a lot.” He didn’t elaborate. Just shrugged like it wasn’t important, like he wasn’t already calculating what she’d do next. Where she’d go, if she’d stick close, or if he’d be walking into camp mostly alone after all.
“Oh?” Tapeesa’s voice rose an octave, curiously. Her shoulder lightly brushed his as she hugged the thermos to her chest. “You do seem quite hungry,” she teased him gently. Her gaze fell to their feet, watching as they walked instep, crushing the thick snow under foot. Elias seemed like the type of guy who might work out and from what she knew about that lifestyle, they ate… a lot. Plus she imagined flying up into the air zapped a lot of reserved energy. Hunger made sense.
She wasn’t quite sure what that had to do with her, unless he was finishing to see what she planned to do, or maybe it was an open invitation for her to join. Tappi tended to be more straightforward. So rather than try to read between the lines or search for the subtext, she simply looked over at him and asked, “Were you wanting me to join? Or are you politely hinting that you’d like to be left alone?” She looked over at him with a tender, subtle smile. “Don’t worry, you won’t hurt my feelings.”
Elias frowned at the question, his brows pulling together in something that might’ve read as irritation but wasn’t. He just wasn’t used to this kind of directness. Most people hovered until you got the hint or disappeared when they were done. No one ever simply asked him what he wanted or expected, especially not about their own actions concerning him. So, the question itself wasn't offensive. It was more so that the directness required a response he felt unequipped to handle gracefully.
“Eres una mujer independiente,” he muttered, shoving the now-empty wrapper into his coat pocket as he kept walking. “Not like I actually get a say here anyway.”
It was meant to be flippant. Detached. Yet, the delivery betrayed his inner intention. He heard it himself as he spoke: his weariness combined with the realization that he might want her company, even if pride prevented him from saying so.
Tapeesa’s brows tugged together as she tried to understand what he said in… Spanish? She tucked some of her wild loose hairs behind her ear while looking over at him. “I understood ‘independent’... I think,” she guessed.
Elias smiled, shaking his head at her attempt to interpret. “Yeah. Means you're not the type to wait for permission.”
“I did ask for your say though,” Tapeesa said while dipping her head a bit in front of him to meet his gaze in hopes of coaxing a genuine answer from him. “But, if it helps,” she continued as she stepped in front of him and started walking backwards so he had no option but to look at her. “I’d be happy to join you. It’d be nice to have a ‘friend’—” she pinned the thermos to her chest with one arm and made air quotes with her fingers, “—going in there. But I also don’t want to impose if you’d rather be rid of me.”
Her eyes squinted as she searched his face for an answer he wasn’t saying out loud. After a moment, Tapeesa moved out of his way and fell back in step beside him. She lightly nudged his arm with her elbow. “I’m a big girl. I can handle the truth,” she teased.
Elias scoffed, a sound born from a tangled knot of emotions. It was partly a reaction to the utter ridiculousness of their circumstances and to the girl now walking backwards in front of him; Tapeesa and her unshakeable persistence, a trait as baffling as it was effective. She seemed to operate on a wavelength of straightforward kindness he couldn't comprehend, let alone combat.
So…why do it anymore?
Elias released a deep sigh that seemed to come from his very boots. Needing desperately to avoid the intensity of her waiting eyes, he dropped his gaze, fixing it intently on the trampled snow beneath their feet. While doing so, his hand, encased in her oversized mitten, rose almost of its own accord, fingers desperately wishing to rake through his hair beneath her hat in a gesture of pure, flustered helplessness.
Then, the internal dam broke, and the words emerged, forced out and stripped of their protective layers of ambiguity.
“Fine,” Elias ground out, his eyes remaining stubbornly averted, only this time focused on a distant, snow-laden pine over her shoulder. “I’d rather not be rid of you, okay?” Are you happy now? he almost added but held his tongue because, despite his discomfort of having to reveal himself like that, Tapeesa was not at fault for his messy emotions.
Tapeesa’s smile grew, causing two little dimples to appear in the middle of her plump, rosy cheeks. She shifted the thermos, pinning it between her bicep and side, then her other hand hooked around Elias’s closest arm. “Alrighty then,” she said with an upbeat tone. “That wasn’t so difficult, now was it?” she teased and bumped her hip against his side.
Elias’s gaze dropped, drawn to the unexpected point of contact where her hand now rested, looped securely around his arm. He stared at it, a bit of pure bewilderment crossing his features as he tried, and failed, to mentally reconstruct the exact sequence that had led to this moment. Strangest of all, a powerful compulsion began to tug at him, urging him simply to accept the moment for what it was.
Which was when he saw it. Shifting his focus forward, past the enigma of her hand on his arm and the curtain of falling snow, Elias’s eyes caught a distinct alteration in the scene ahead. A warm radiance began to define the ridgeline they were approaching, and as they finally crested the rise, the structure materialized fully from the darkness below: tall, formidable iron gates flanked by imposing walls that appeared to border their intended destination. It didn't resemble any summer camp he'd ever imagined, that was for sure. It looked fortified and more like a medieval keep designed to repel invaders.
Or, a darker thought whispered, like a high-security containment area built to hold dangerous things securely inside its boundaries. Dangerous things like him.
Elias stopped walking, his body going unnaturally still. He stared fixedly at the imposing entrance at first before his gaze travelled just beyond the intimidating wall. There, piercing the encompassing darkness with an almost aggressive brightness, was the source of the glow he’d spotted from the air: the massive bonfire.
“There it is, I guess,” he said. “Home sweet… prison.”
Tapeesa perked up as light illuminated just over the cusp of the hill before them. The closer they got, the tall wall and large iron gates came into view. Beyond there was the soft thumping of music and a large bonfire. She thought she might have seen some people in the distance, but between the distance and the trees that framed the path beyond the gate it was hard to make out details. Elias went rigid, keeping them in place when she tried to take a step forward. Her brow rose in curiosity as she looked over at him. “It’s not a prison,” she said, trying to reassure him.
Slipping her arm free, Tappi took a couple steps forward. Her foot moved back and forth in front of her, clearing the snow out of the way until she could see the earth beneath. She leaned down and picked up a small rock. Standing back upright, she tossed it once in her hand before throwing it high over the gate. With little effort the stone flew exactly where she wanted, arcing over the barrier and landing soundly in the snow on the other side. She smiled and dusted her hands off while turning back around to face him.
“Well, there’s no forcefield or anything. So, if you’re ever feeling trapped you could just—” she made a gesture, dunking her right hand over her left arm like someone jumping over something, “—fly right over.” Tapeesa doubted they were being locked up like rats, but she could understand Elias’s concern when face to face with a giant barricade. It could only have one of two purposes, to keep them in, or something out. She hoped it was the latter, for his sake.
She slowly made her way back to Elias and took his forearm in both of her hands. Tapeesa gave him a tug, beckoning him toward the gate. She wasn’t very strong so if stubbornness won out, it’s unlikely he’d budge, but she hoped he’d concede with some light coaxing.
Elias didn’t move at first. The stone had arced easily, sure, but it didn’t prove anything he didn’t already know, i.e. that he could leave, physically speaking. It wasn’t about that for him. He’d never been here before, but he’d been in moments like this. Moments that looked warm from the outside but felt like lockdowns on the inside. Times when he smiled, said all the right things, played normal, even while his storm sat caged beneath his skin, urging him for release.
The gate ahead reminded him of that. Of the parts of himself he’d always been told to hold back, and just because this place had music and a bonfire didn’t mean it wasn’t another kind of containment.
Elias’s jaw worked silently as he stared at the gate, shoulders squared but unmoving. Then his companion’s hands found his arm again, light, small, and warm even through the layers. He glanced down, studying her hands for a fleeting moment, then lifted his gaze to meet hers. He saw it then, clear in her eyes: she was genuinely trying. Not with empty promises about safety he’d instantly distrust, nor with grand pronouncements about belonging. She offered comfort in the only way that felt authentic to her; her language of care that he had no defence against.
The boy exhaled through his nose, finally letting her tug him forward a step.
Standing under the massive metal bars that separated them from camp, Tappi wondered how they got inside. Sure, Elias could probably take them right over but she had no idea how much his abilities took out of him and that seemed… unnecessary. There had to be a way in or a doorbell or something. She scanned the area for a moment before her gaze found the small metal box on one of the doors. She took a step toward it, her reluctant traveling companion in tow as her arm was, once again, locked around his. Her free hand dusted off the snow, but all that was beneath was a small flat rectangle.
“Maybe…” she mused to herself while pressing her exposed thumb against the box. Click. There was a faint sound of a hidden mechanism stirring to life, followed by the screeching of cold hinges being forced open. The large gates slowly swung inward, inviting them to take a step forward and enter.
“Great,” Elias grumbled. “Doors that open with a thumbprint. Definitely not a trap.”
Still, he didn’t stop her when she stepped forward and didn’t pull his arm away, either.
End of collab pt. 1/2
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