A sound rang in his ears, like pages turning in a book soaked through with water. Lucas struggled to open his eyes, the sound waking him. Mist coiled around him, tentative and sentient, like a curious dog seeing a new toy. It curled beneath his fingers, clung to his skin, and pooled in the corners of his vision, silent and breathing in rhythmic pulses.
In his hand, the tarot card had returned.
It pulsed faintly - then dissolved into specks of light, like fireflies scattering into the fog. A few lingered, rearranging midair, shaping themselves into a single, hovering image:
A pupil-less eye.
He felt it.
A presence.
Watching.
Aware.
And then a voice, not in sound, not physical, but in meaning. It didn't speak so much as breathe through the folds of his mind, a presence.
"See."
Lucas woke with the sensation that he had lost something, not time, though the moon had clearly moved. No, something deeper, something that hindered his perspective, for now he felt like A layer of the world had been peeled away, allowing him to see, to see truly, almost like he awakened a third eye.
He blinked up at stars that shimmered like thoughts, and the mist still curled low across the ground. Something had changed. He had changed.
"Camping on a school night. Your teachers mustn't find out about this."
Lucas turned.
His father was lying beside him in the grass, hands folded behind his head, eyes half-lidded as if he'd been there the whole time, napping beside him.
He was close, closer than Lucas expected, with a blanket draped over both of them, one Steven most likely brought out to fight back the cold, a result of choosing not to move him, in case it had any adverse effects with Lucas' potion.
Being so close allowed Lucas to study him.
Brown eyes, sharp from years spent teaching, but softened by the ever-present smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Dimples settled quietly in his cheeks, a detail Lucas had never really noticed before.
Black hair fell across his face in loose strands, trailing like shadow-made silk - casual, unkempt, and somehow elegant.
At thirty-three, Steven Thorne was in his prime.
With his expertise in history and myth, he could've gone anywhere, taken prestigious positions, remarried, and built a life of acclaim. But he hadn't.
Out of love for Hecate - for Lucas's mother, he stayed.
He remained in the same quiet town where they'd first met. Never said why. Never needed to. But Lucas understood now why.
His father had chosen this remote place for him.
A sanctuary from the troubles that would one day come for him.
A Home to return to.
Lucas smiled and rested his head atop his father's shoulder.
No words were spoken. But Steven understood the sentiment as he saw the gratitude in his son's eyes. With a smile of his own, he re-draped the blanket that had loosened around them, covering them once more.
"Get some rest," he murmured. "You're not skipping class in the morning."
Lucas chuckled softly beneath his breath.
And once again, closed his eyes.
...
Lucas sat in the cafeteria, his tray untouched, noise buzzing all around him. Conversations. Laughter. The dull hum of fluorescent lights overhead. The sounds of a typical afternoon at break in his school.
And then he saw her.
A girl with flaming hair, skin pale as bone, red eyes that gleamed, fangs bared behind a smile - and two mismatched legs: one bronze, one the hoofed limb of a donkey.
Her gaze swept across the room, looking for something, landing on him. She walked towards him, ignoring the ruckus that surrounded her, and when she smiled at someone passing by in greeting, the expression didn't quite reach her eyes.
He didn't move. Didn't panic. Just watched as she approached.
The stories he'd studied in his father's study flickered through his mind, pages and warnings rising one by one before settling on a name.
An Empousa.
She walked straight to him and sat down across the table.
"You're quieter than usual," she said casually, nudging his untouched tray with a finger. "What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?"
Her voice was light. Familiar. The same tone she'd always used.
Elizabeth.
The only one who was ever considered his friend, but now he saw her true form, and when he looked at her eyes, there was no hunger behind her gaze.
A monster, masked as a friend?
No. A friend, masked as a monster.
"Lucas?" she asked again, brow furrowing. A flicker of concern now.
He stared for a heartbeat longer, seeing his first physical monster. Then, his lips curved into a smirk.
"Nothing's wrong. Just distracted. Your hair's doing that 'molten fire goddess' thing again. Hard to focus."
"...That so?"
"Mhm," Lucas said, sipping from his drink.
Lucas smiled again, softer this time.
But behind his eyes, he was watching. Measuring. Confirming his thoughts.
Elizabeth lingered near him as the lunch bell rang, her tone lighter than it should've been.
"Hey. After school. Science wing. Storage room C. You know the one."
Lucas raised a brow, feigning thought.
"The spooky one with the flickering lights and the leaky ceiling?"
"That's the one."
"...Romantic."
She rolled her eyes.
"Just come. I want to show you something."
Her tone was teasing.
But her eyes?
Serious. Focused.
His scent has grown stronger.
...
He arrived early.
The storage room was just as unsettling as he remembered - dusty shelves, a cracked window, shadows clinging to the corners as the light was broken. But it had something else now.
Lucas's touch.
He knelt in silence, chalk in hand, drawing the circle with care.
Salt. Quartz dust. Some silver.
Lines of restraint. Runes of stilling.
It wasn't complex.
But it was all he could do with what he had learnt, self-taught.
When he was done, he sat atop the desk.
Casual.
Quiet.
Confident.
Waiting for her.
...
She arrived exactly on time.
Lucas watched her enter, the way the shadows curled behind her, almost like they were following.
She stepped inside slowly, the door clicking shut softly, then she locked the door.
Her posture changed - no longer playful.
Now she was predatory.
"You came," she said, voice lower. "Good."
She licked her lips, "Hopefully you taste as good as you smell."
Her skin shimmered. Her teeth lengthened. Her legs shifted - donkey and bronze. The illusion had dropped.
She watched him, waiting for a reaction, but received none. Slightly frustrated, she lunged at him, her claws reaching for him like she wanted to cut him.
"carcerem"
And froze.
The air shimmered; her limbs jerked against invisible chains. The ritual snapped into being, golden lines of light rising from the circle etched beneath her feet.
Her eyes widened.
"You...what did you...?"
Lucas stood, slowly.
Adjusted his jacket that had wrinkled from sitting.
"Sorry, Elizabeth. I respect surprises. I really do."
He tossed an apple in his hands once, taking a bite. Setting up the ritual had been tiring, especially since he hadn't eaten at break.
"But not at my expense."
"Next time," he added with a smirk, "just ask."
He gave her a wink.
"I would've brought snacks."
Elizabeth strained against the bonds, testing them. The golden lines pulsed once, then tightened.
"Cute trick," she said, her tone somewhere between annoyed and amused. "Did your mom teach you that?"
Lucas leaned against the desk, arms crossed, taking another bite of the apple.
"No. But she left me good books."
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes.
"So you know."
Lucas nodded, slowly.
"About me? A few weeks. About you? Lunch."
Elizabeth's lips parted - then closed again.
She looked down, as if weighing something heavier than she'd expected.
"So is this where the hero slays the monster?"
"Well," Lucas smirked, "as much as it would make lunch quieter...I guess I'm stuck with you."
Elizabeth raised her head, eyes locking with his.
Seeing the same look he always gave her before he knew about her true identity. Even knowing she was a monster, his opinion of her hadn't changed from the Elizabeth he had become friends with.
"You really are a fool. Don't you get it? Monsters hunt. Demigods kill. That's the deal."
"Elizabeth," Lucas said, leaning in just enough to drop his voice, "you should know me well enough by now...I don't follow convention."
Elizabeth stared at him, searching his eyes for deceit, but found none.
Then she scoffed.
"You going to let me out of this, or are you enjoying it a little too much?"
Lucas considered. Then smiled and began to remove the magic.
Elizabeth rubbed her wrists, muttering something under her breath - probably a curse, or maybe a compliment, he thought.
"I was wondering why your scent grew stronger, seems I got my answer"
Her eyes lingered on Lucas, who had returned to the desk, calmly munching on an apple. Unbothered. Unflinching.
She remembered the first time she'd found him.
It had been years ago, and he was just a child then. Maybe five or six. She'd caught a strange, fragmented scent on the wind. It pulled at her like blood in water.
She followed it.
She had crept forward then, instinct pulsing like fire in her bones.
An easy kill, she believed.
But beneath the scent of demigod blood... she'd felt it.
Familiarity.
Her creator's magic.
She stopped mid-step. The hunger drained from her. Not in fear - but in clarity.
He felt like hers.
Not prey.
Not a threat.
She vanished. And when the monsters came sniffing after him in the years that followed, she veiled his scent in hers. Subtly. Silently. Never letting them get too close.
But now. Now he's grown.
His scent had bloomed.
The Mist could only hide so much. And monsters were patient and plenty.
Soon, others would come; she couldn't hide him forever.
Elizabeth exhaled through her nose and looked at Lucas again
Resolve filling her.
"With your growing power and knowledge, your scent will grow too, since you can no longer hide - get stronger"
"It seems I got myself a mentor." He quipped.
Elizabeth scoffed
"We start tomorrow. After school. Don't be late."
She turned to leave, but paused at the door.
"And Lucas?"
He looked up.
"Thanks"
She disappeared into the hallway with a flicker.