Y/N's dream was the same as every time since the previous year.
He was standing on the edge of a frozen cliff, the ocean stretching as far as the eye can see, three hundred feet below him. Ice spots covered the water here and there. Out of the corner of his eye, he could still see that very old, abandoned camp. Strangely, he felt the wind sweeping past him, yet he didn't shiver, though that wind must be cold.
He turned around. A giant serpent rose in his back. It had two heads, but not like you would expect. The first was normal—if you could call a giant serpent's head with fangs as long as your arms normal—and the other was where should have been the tip of its tail. The Amphisbaena, the first monster that had tried to kill him.
Instinctively he stepped backward, but his foot didn't find anywhere to land on. As he tumbled into the void, the monster leaped on him.
His fall was so long he wasn't sure he was ever going to crash on something. In front of him, the first head's mouth was wide open.
And then, with no more difficulty than he would have to walk with a breeze going against him, he broke through the ice.
His feet touched the ground, and he hurried forward. He couldn't look behind, but he knew what waited for him if he ever stopped. He would fall again, in a crevasse so deep he would never see light again.
The earth cracked just in front of him each time and running kept him on solid ground only by miracle.
Suddenly a large chunk of ground fell, and even running he had no hope to reach safety. He jumped, his feet swinging in the air, stretching out his hand and trying to get a hold on something. On anything.
He was on a hill. Blocks of black granite and marble as big as houses surrounded him. But it wasn't what he looked at.
His gaze was bound to the sky. It wasn't blue, orange, purple, gray, or any color it could have taken during the day, or the night.
Clouds swirled in a heavy vortex, making a funnel cloud that almost touched the hilltop.
The sky was going to touch the earth. . . . He was going to get crushed. . . . Closer . . . too close. . . .
He was in the middle of New York. The city seemed deserted, as if all its inhabitants had decided to flee.
Or rather, it seemed asleep.
Yes, that was the right word. Y/N was sure. Asleep.
He tried to move, but something caught him. Everything blurred, and he was drawn back into the arms of Morpheus.
Y/N sat bolt upright, shivering in his bed.
There was no cliff. No monster. No fall. No funnel cloud. No city.
He often woke up of his dream like that. The number of times he saw it didn't change anything.
Morning sunlight filtered through his bedroom window, falling across his bed.
He must have taken more time than usual to wake up, because someone quickly knocked on the door. And then, skipping on his crutches, Ethan came in.
Ethan was a satyr, so he had goat legs. To pass unnoticed with his legs bending the wrong way, he made everybody believe he was handicapped—nobody seemed to remark how fast he could run when fries were on the menu. He had horns, too, which he hid more and more often under his banana sunhat as they grew.
"Lie-in today?" he said, grinning. "Don't forget, we're going back to camp today. Hope you've your things ready."
"W-what? Oh . . . yeah," Y/N mumbled. He yawned.
YOU ARE READING
The Path Of Glory (Annabeth Chase x Male Reader)
Fanfiction"You will be glorious. You will be my glory." Y/N's life was quiet before that day. What day? The day a giant snake tried to kill him. Then it became really weird for sure. First, a lightning bolt was stolen. How is that even a thing? Y/N didn't kno...
