As soon as we got back to our "improvised camp", I quickly picked up my bow and quiver, separating them with impatience from my backpack's straps, and then I launched myself back into the woods.

While I was walking around between all the bushes and ditches, I was still thinking about the vision, troubled.

I couldn't understand why I had it in the first place - usually, my visions helped me, in one way or another, and sometimes they could even give me hints about the identities of my enemies using what still remained of my godly memory.

Was there something that I was supposed to understand? Some hidden sign, maybe?

I had no idea. I couldn't look up on Google "How to decipher strange visions sent by celestial beings", and I didn't even have "Visions for Dummies" at hand, so I decided that I'd wait until divine inspiration came to me, or until what the vision was trying to warn me about was about to happen.

A logical question in this situation would be "Couldn't you just ask the arrow of Dodona what the vision meant?"

I could have done that - I knew for sure that that damned twig had access to the Internet and to the Sacred Olympian Archives, it just didn't want to admit it.

However, if there was something that I wanted to hear at the moment it surely wasn't its fake Shakespearean accent, so I chose to leave the great prophetic missile in the quiver; maybe it had found a way to talk to the other arrows. At least that's what I hoped.

I laid my eyes on a couple of rabbits hopping around the exposed roots of a tree, and I hid behind a bush. One rabbit - oh gods, it was a bunny - was too little to feed both me and Meg, and I surely wasn't able to take out two bunnies with one arrow, so I had to shoot two of them at the same time.

I took the arrows out of the quiver and observed nervously their tips. As a god, it would have been a piece of cake for me to do such thing. I've never done anything similar as a mortal, though, and I was afraid that I would miss the animals. If I actually missed them, the animals would run away, and Zeus only knows when I would be able to find other preys; that forest was emptier than it seemed.

Oh, and given my luck there was the risk that I'd hit myself instead too.

I decided to try anyway.

As I put the arrows against the bow, I adjusted them so that the animals would die instantly once shot. I felt guilty enough for killing those bunnies - I didn't want to cause them more pain than necessary.

I aimed.

Thwack, thwack.

Much to my surprise, both bodies fell to the ground, as if they were rag dolls falling from the hands of a child. As I was approaching them, though, the quick rustle of the grass made me realize that they weren't both dead: one of the bunnies was still moving its paws, clinging desperately to life.

I kneeled, and the animal stared at me with a terrified expression. Large brown eyes of a life that started only recently.

I had a flashback from the time when I was in its same, exact situation: an arrow plunged into my chest, the fear flowing through my veins along with my blood.

I sighed, caressing it gently on the head. — The choice was between you and us, buddy. I'm sorry.

I put my hand on the shaft of the arrow, and pulled; it got out in a ridiculously easy way, bringing with itself a river of blood which stained my hands. Life slowly left the creature's eyes, and watching as it did so caused a lump to form in my throat.

I stared at the arrow in my hand.

— Apollo.

— I don't want to do that.

The forest's ground - green, green, green - fills the vision. A single flower stands out from the grass - a little, white daisy that seems to have just bloomed.

— Apollo, you have to end it.

— Can't you do that?

— Damn it- Turn your head and look at it! It's already dying, you just have to get out the arrow!

A pressure on the sides, and the angle changes quickly: now all that can be seen is a deer covered in blood; a golden arrow sticks out from the fur, where the red is darker. I shiver.

— It's dying, Apollo, dying; so end its suffering now. Or are you waiting for it to do the check-out on its own?

A hand - my hand - stretches, slow, towards the shaft. The fingers grasp it, hesitant.

Pull.

And pull.

And pull.

And it's out.

The deer lifts its head as if it's pleading, and its last convulsions end.

(It isn't moving. Gods, it isn't moving.)

— There.

(Killing Python was so different. This beast didn't cause me any harm.)

A girl with a long, chest-nut braid fills the scene.

Her silver eyes are piercing, but her expression is soft.

— Was it so difficult?

Yes. Yes, it was.

I blinked a couple of times, running tiredly a hand through my hair (the clean one, of course, I'm not a barbarian). It was a memory from our early days, when my sister tried to teach me how to hunt animals. I wasn't experienced with medicine at the time, and I didn't know how to cure the poor thing yet. The "killing an innocent animal" part was probably what made me give up learning that skill.

I thought about how my visions became worse, lately - they showed up once every two days now, or twice if I was really unlucky (which I always am). Also, they always happened in the least appropriate moments: four days ago, for example, I had a vision while we were fighting against a gorgon, and we almost risked losing our heads.

At the moment, thankfully, there wasn't anything that wanted to kill me, so I could feel safe, or at least as safe as you can feel with the impending threat of a giant, ancient monster who would really gladly tear your limbs apart one by one.

Anyway, I couldn't deny that that whole situation was beginning to feel weird. The visions that I've had in the past few weeks were all connected to Python - pieces of a nightmare that not even four thousand years of immortality could erase.

That's why these last two were too different to go unnoticed: they didn't relate at all to that beast - unless I somehow discovered that my sister has secretly been Python for all these years, which would make this situation a lot more awkward -, and they always had the same protagonists: Artemis and I.

I reflected upon the reason why the visions about Python were so frequent: our final purpose was to kill him, and my mind was probably trying to keep ready so seeing that ugly face of his didn't cause me any trauma (it didn't seem to work that well, though!).

Was it possible that she...?

No, I said to myself, trying to quickly erase that thought, this is the most improbable thing that could happen right now.

Up until that moment, Zeus seemed to have refused to let any god come close to me (with the exception of Britomartis, of course; she was a minor goddess who didn't have my interests at heart, though, so that's probably why my father let that slide). He surely wouldn't give a special pass to Artemis. Especially not to Artemis.

I began to skin the two animals, and their blood stained my hands even more. I must have looked like some sort of slaughterer, which was definitely not the look I was going for.

I recalled coming across a river, while I was searching for our food - I decided that that would surely be my next stop.

For a moment I looked up, lost in thought.

The sky was purple, and not much remained of the light colors of the sunset.

I continued my work, sighing.

No, it was not possible.
---
According to common belief, traveling through a path again, just in reverse, should be pretty easy - you know the way, you remember the obstacles that you could meet, stuff like that. Honestly, I thought so too, until I tripped over a root peeking out from the dirt; from that moment on I decided to be more careful (quite a difficult decision, considering that in terms of stability my legs were equal to overcooked noodles), forced to bitterly admit that not everything I believed had to be true. First The Beatles, then actual equality between genders in the world, now this - it was incredible how many things couldn't manage to meet my expectations.

I carried on walking, trying not to be caught off guard by some other root, while I was carrying the two rabbits as if they were some sort of really weird shopping bags. Of course, the disgusting noise they made helped me not to forget that they weren't, in fact, bags of groceries but they were the groceries themselves.

When I returned I found Meg who, with the extremely concentrated expression that I've only seen on Archimedes when he was about to invent some brilliant, new mechanism, was trying to build something with the left-over branches we found.

Not unexpectedly, they couldn't manage to stay up without falling after a couple of seconds.

— I'm back. — I said, as if the sounds of the bodies of the two animals clashing together hadn't already announced my presence.

Gods, I could never manage to get used to that aspect of hunting. Thankfully, that was Artemis' domain, not mine.

— Oh, finally. — Meg answered, throwing the two branches she had in her hands aside since obviously they seemed not to be worthy of her attention anymore. She turned to look at me, with an annoyed expression. — You took your time, huh? Where... bleargh! — She twisted her face in disgust, as she saw the two bunnies. — What's that thing?

— Our dinner.

— Well, I won't eat it.

Her stomach rumbled in protest. Meg looked at it resentfully, but she didn't change her mind.

I came close to the fire and placed some stronger branches that I would use to cook the rabbits. — Tell me that later, when they'll be ready. — I paused. — Why do they disgust you so much, anyway? You saw raw meat at least once, didn't you? It's impossible that you did not.

Meg was still looking at the rabbits. — Yeah, but still... — She shivered. — Bleargh.

I laughed, shaking my head.

Once the food was cooked, we didn't talk. We just ate, in silence: Meg devoured mercilessly her portion, and took even a leg from mine despite my weak protests (so much for not eating); I, on the other hand, tried to savour every bite of it, knowing well that this would probably be our last meal for a while.
We lost a lot of time already, and we needed to take as few stops as possible.

I took off the hoodie I put over my shirt; June just began, yet the heat was already suffocating. I folded it a few times, so that it looked vaguely like a pillow. I put it next to Meg and said: — Here. One of us must stay up, in case some monster decides to attack us. — I leaned on a tree that was right behind me. — You must be tired, so I'll be on the watch.

Meg raised her eyebrows. — Are you sending me to bed? What are you, my nanny or something?

— To fight you need energy, and you fight better than me, so yeah, I'm sending you to bed. — I grinned. — I won't be of much help, whether I'm tired or well-rested.

Despite her obvious annoyance, Meg must have realized that I was right: she took the pillow and rested her head on it.

— This thing stinks. — she commented.

I huffed. — Ungrateful child.

After a moment of silence, she spoke again.

— Do you think that that chimera is still searching for us?

— Probably. — I answered, grinning again. — And probably it's still trying to get out of those roots you made it snag itself on.

— Won't be easy, with all those arrows sticking out of her butt. — said Meg, facing up, chuckling.

I smiled, turning my gaze to the trees and sighing. I couldn't shake off the feeling that something bad was about to happen, and I still couldn't stop thinking about the visions of Artemis I had. I hoped with all my heart that Father would allow her, I don't know... to drop in to say hi, at least.

I tried to convince myself that this wasn't going to happen. She didn't show up the day of our birthday, for the first time in four thousand years, why would Zeus let her visit on a simple, random day?

I waited until midnight, the day before our birthday. At midnight of the 25th of May, I was sitting on a bed in Camp Jupiter, with my head on my knees, trying to catch any changing in myself or in what surrounded me, just like little kids do when it's their birthday. Unsurprisingly, it was just one more year added to my age count - seventeen for my body, four thousand, six hundred and thirteen for my mind.

I waited for her the whole day, but she didn't show up, so I didn't tell anyone about what that day meant for me. It couldn't a true birthday if my sister wasn't there to celebrate it with me.

At that moment, I found myself in the same, identical pose, with my arms hugging my knees as if I was trying not to make them fall apart.

— Hey, Meg. — I said, intent on telling Meg about those visions. I felt the need to share my thoughts with someone, to get off the weight of my sister's absence, at least.

After a moment, not receiving any response, I called her again: — Meg?

I turned, looking down. She was already sleeping, seeming comfortable even on the ground, snoring like only Dionysus could do after he passed the entire night drinking five entire amphoras of wine, if not more. I leaned against the three.

— It's going to be a very long night.

---

Right when the fact that I simply closed my eyes was almost causing me to fall asleep, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck quiver intensely.

I got up, stretching my neck to hear better any sound that could warn me about any incoming threat.

I heard the leaves rustle continuously as if something was walking amongst the bushes. Then a low hiss, and a giant shadow that was slowly approaching us.

Nothing normal. Definitely not a grass snake.

I reached Meg, walking on all my fours, and I gently shook her arm.

— Meg. — I murmured. I started to shake her with more energy, not receiving any response. — Meg, we might have a problem.

All that came from her was a very long "ugh". I tried again. — Meg, something's approaching us. It looks bad.

— Say hi to it for me. — she replied, with a sleepy tone, turning her back to me.

I glanced at the bushes. The situation was the same, just much more dangerous because yes, the thing was out of the bushes and yes, it was a monster. It was a dragon, to be precise: it was slowly coming towards us, with its green tail swinging around and its yellowish eyes looking at us with malice.

I forgot that dragons could freeze you if you even glanced at their eyes (where do you think that Athena took the whole idea for Medusa's punishment from?), but luckily this one seemed not to be similar to its kind in this aspect.

Nice! I could look at its beautiful, venomous teeth while they were reaching for my throat! How fun!

— Meg, please. — I said, and my voice was about to reach a note that not even Mariah Carey could hit. I couldn't take my eyes off the acid that was dripping down the beast's fangs. — There's a dragon. It looks tremendously like Python. You need to wake up.

— A dragon? — Meg got up, rubbing her eyes. When she lowered her hands, she glared at me. — Wait, wasn't he a snake? Y'know, Pyt-

When she looked at what was standing in front of us she stopped talking, with eyes as wide as a coin. She patted the ground to search for her glasses, probably thinking that wearing them would make the situation better.

"Nah, it's not a murderous monster almost sixty feet long. It's a dog."

Judging by her expression, she didn't see a dog in front of her.

I raised an eyebrow. — I can't believe that you woke up just because you thought I said something wrong.

— You're dumb, it's my duty to correct you.

— Ah, shut up.

We slowly got up, while the dragon was observing us, vigilant.

I put a hand on her shoulder. — Okay, now... don't make any sudden movement. Maybe it's not so clever and it won't attack us if we remain still.

Meg slowly turned her head at me, with stretched lips and both of her eyebrows raised, looking like she was trying to say "Oh yeah? Maybe?".

— We have to come up with something. — I stated, with my eyes focusing on the dragon. It looked like I was trying to win some sort of staring contest against it. Maybe I was still subconsciously hoping that the monsters would recognize me as the god Apollo and run away terrified, so that's why I was trying to assert dominance. Sadly, life wasn't so kind to me.

— Running away is out of the question. This thing is too long. — Meg established.

I wanted to give her the "You don't say?" look, but instead I said: — It's pretty short for a dragon, though. Usually, its kind reaches almost two hundred feet in length.

Meg huffed. — Good to know. — She reached for her rings. — Well, I'm going to fight.

— No, no, Meg, stop, wAIT-

It seemed obvious right from the start how extending her swords was a bad idea. When the swords appeared, they shone violently, reflecting the moon's rays, and the monster's gaze rapidly shifted from me to Meg, who seemed to be quite terrified.

She managed to fight off the monster for a while, while I was trying to shoot an arrow without cutting myself. Suddenly, though, the dragon launched itself at Meg, not even giving her the time to scream; it wrapped its tail around her whole body, so around her arms too. The swords fell to the ground and turned back into rings.

— DAMN IT! — screamed Meg, trying to free herself. — WHY MUST I ALWAYS GET IN THIS KIND OF SITUATION?

The Fates, Meg. The Fates.

I reached quickly for my bow. — Hey, you, ugly face! — I shouted, pointing at his head.

"Always aim for the head": that was the zombie apocalypse movies' golden rule and it was mine too.

The dragon, about to melt Meg's head into an acid puddle, turned its head to look at me.

I shot the arrow; after drawing a large arch in the air, it clashed against the dragon's scales and fell to the ground. The dragon and I stood still for a couple of seconds, both looking at the arrow. I probably had a miserable expression, because that's how I felt; yet, despite my sadness, I managed to move just as I heard the creature's venom coming my way.

Where I was standing before, the grass was sizzling.

— It's not working! — I shouted, turning to face Meg.

Meg seemed frustrated. — Well, duh! Aim at his mouth!

— I can't! The arrows will melt!

Meg groaned in such a loud way that I managed to hear her even if she was really far away from me. — Give me the swords! I'll figure something out! — she said, pointing at where her rings fell. The dragon's tail was right in front of them, and I needed to come up with something to reach them.

I looked around frantically, running around to confuse the creature. Then, I sprinted, running behind him and trying to catch Meg's rings.

And I did that, yes. However, the ground was incredibly slippery, and just as I bent to take the rings I fell on my butt. I looked up, and saw the dragon tower over me, casting a shadow that seemed to wrap me.

While looking at its eyes, bright like flashlights in the night's darkness, I gasped as if I was drowning, trying not to think about how many similarities it had with Python; however, I was soon hit with the realization that the two shared a great, important difference: Python's gaze was more cruel, more... intelligent. Too intelligent.

Still, it didn't help me.

Meg kept on calling me, trying to convince me to fight with not-so-delicate words. I stayed there anyway, frozen in shock and unable to move. I was sure that I was about to die, and I was ready to accept it when suddenly another shadow, way smaller, placed itself in front of me. I took a few steps back, almost scared. Whoever this was, they had a powerful aura.

I didn't see how exactly they attacked the monster, but I could hear the rustling of arrow feathers, and a few darts later the dragon lost its grip on Meg.

I got up, running quickly towards her to try to catch her. I couldn't let her injure herself: we didn't have enough ambrosia to cure her properly in case she broke one of her limbs, and I didn't want her to walk around with broken bones during the whole quest. Therefore, I had to prevent that from happening.

I managed to catch her, thankfully, but Meg's body fell on me with such force that both of us fell: Meg, apparently unharmed, and I, the true victim of this situation, who got three new bruises on my back.

— You almost killed me. — I complained, rubbing the arm that I fell on. But at least you're safe now, I thought.

— Don't be dramatic, it's your fault, not mine. — she replied, scowling at me. — You should have moved, instead of staying th... — Meg stopped talking, looking confused. — Uh, where did that thing go?

We both turned our heads right when the dragon, hit by one last arrow, exploded in a dusty, yellow cloud. I looked at the dust falling along with all the arrows that managed to hit the creature, as if I was in some sort of trance.

Silver arrows.

My eyes were wide, as I laid my eyes on the shadow that saved us: too big to be a child, too small to be an adult, dressed in silvery robes that shone in the pale moonlight.

No, it couldn't be...

When the figure turned, I felt my insides twisting as if I were on a rollercoaster.

The person who saved us (who saved me) from becoming a tiny puddle of greenish venom, the person who killed that beast...

It was Artemis.