Bewitched || P. Jackson

𝕋he forgotten Phoenix

It wasn't a surprise when Nicki woke up in a blindingly white room. The room was the size of Madison Square Garden. High above, the blue ceiling glittered with constellations. If Nicki didn't know any better she would've assumed she had imagined a wink glittering from the eye of The Huntress's constellation.

In one corner, a house-size globe of water hovered in the air and inside swam Nicki's old friend the Ophiotaurus, half-cow, half-serpent. Twelve enormous thrones made a U around a central hearth, just like the placement of the cabins at camp.

A figure lazily perched on the armrest of a massive throne. It was decorated with two laurel wreaths on the back, with a shining sun above. It was occupied by a wolfskin cushion for the god to sit on.

Nicki looked around at the other gloomy, empty thrones, and she could imagine what it would be like sitting on the Olympian Council—so much power but so much arguing, always eleven other gods trying to get their way.

After a long moment, Nicki looked back at the golden throne.

A tall guy slid down the chair. He looked about seventeen or eighteen. He wore black ripped jeans paired with black high-top shoes and a sleeveless Guns N' Roses shirt. His long blonde hair was tussled like he had just spent the day surfing at the beach.

"Hey Fred," Nicki breathed, rubbing her forearms for comfort. "Long time, no see."

The god took her hands in his. "Phoenix, you have never been alone."

It didn't take much for hot tears to bubble. Purple swirled in Nicki's forest-green eyes. "Why are you on his side?"

"I am your side. I always have been."

"Then why are you defending him?" Apollo jumped as Nicki tore her hands away from him. "No one cares about me. No one chooses me. Even Ethan chooses Annabeth and Percy over me! Leo knew how that felt. He knew what it was like to be forgotten."

Nicki stepped back, putting more distance between the two. "Nicki, that's how Percy found you. He found you alone, afraid, and desperate for reassurance. You're back where you were 3 years ago, but now you're finding comfort in someone else's arms. He's hurting."

"I'm fucking hurting! Percy this, Percy that. What about me?"

"Exactly. What about you?" Apollo took a step closer. "When were your memories ripped away from you? When were you kidnapped? When were you thrown into a whole other world and expected to survive with no preparation?"

"I—"

"Never. That's when." Apollo had never been so visibly angry before. He was shaking. "You're not the only person in this world, Phoenix. He's doing it for the good of Rome."

"Who are you?" The younger girl staggered backwards, holding her hands in front of herself protectively. "What are you?"

Apollo's clothes flickered. One moment, they were a brilliant white toga, the next they were back to normal. Angry fires flashed in and out of existence behind unfamiliar eyes. "I am Phoebus Apollo."

"You're Roman." Nicki took another step back. "You're not my Apollo."

"I am Phoebus Apollo!" The god roared. The flickering stopped; solidifying on a pristine toga and laurel headdress. Molten gold glowed through his eyes.

"Please... Don't."

"The forgotten Phoenix; an unburied dead,
Of stolen time they live ahead.
Trail beyond the Chaos, a deserving plight,
What lingers for you: Mother of Night.
A powerless baby, a ticking clock,
The chronometer begs stop."