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"He was many things… to many people. A friend, a brother, a warrior, a leader, a person to look up to, and many more, but to me, he was a father… Not many can claim that. When I was a child, my mother used to tell me all the things that he had done in his life. I resented him in my early life because I knew I could never live up to him. I later realised that nobody can live up to him. He may have fought two wars, but all he ever wanted was peace, and he got exactly that after those wars… Grandma used to tell me that my father was named after the only demigod who had a happy ending. That number has certainly gone up… He died peacefully this morning at 5 A.M., aged 75… We all know his tales of valour will be told for ages to come, and I know the world won't remember him as the same person I know him as—a dad", his eldest son finished his speech with tears welling up in his grey eyes.
I zoned out after that. Many people spoke—gods, demigods, and his other children. I heard none of it. I knew this day would come. It was easy to say that I was not prepared in the least.
Soon, the funeral pyre was lit. The cries of many can be heard faintly in the background. Just like the drizzle that has been pouring since this morning.
The smoke flew higher and higher. I could feel the fire that was lit. I felt numb. The hearth was burning so low that it had no warmth. All gods, Olympian or not, and all demigods, Greek and Roman, were gathered in Camp Half-Blood. Nobody noticed me standing in the corner, as usual.
I should have been ecstatic because the whole family was united, albeit at a funeral. But I only felt numb. The funeral rites were completed. After a while, the crowd started to scatter. The gods flashed to wherever they went. Poseidon stayed for a while. The Romans were sent back to their camp by Mars. The Greek demigods slowly went to their cabins, crying.
There I stood, in the centre of the Greek camp. The rain had stopped, but the black clouds didn't clear out. The pyre was completely burnt. The ashes were collected in an urn and taken away. The plan to build a magnificent tomb was made. I could only see the burned ground that was left in the wake. I was standing alone. Finally, tears started rolling down my face. I couldn't stop it. I let out an anguished sound. I fell to my knees. I brought my knees closer to my chest and continued weeping, for that is all I can do.
Today, the only man I ever loved died. Many times during his life, I wanted to tell him that I loved him. But how could I, when the fate of the entire world was resting on his shoulders? How could I, when he was completely in love with another person? How could I, when he rejected godhood to live a mortal life with the girl he loved? How could I, when I watched him go through Tartarus for the girl that he loved? How could I, as a sworn virgin, never be in a romantic relationship with anyone? How could I when he got married? How could I, when I watched him become a father? How could I, when he was so… happy?
I stood up stiffly. The tears didn't stop. I could feel another person behind me. I turned and looked up. It was Annabeth, his wife. Those grey eyes that once shone bright with ambition and determination at her young age were gone, replaced with dull ones that were frail. That blonde hair turned grey. She was wrinkled and old. She looked tired. She looked dishevelled. Now, she was the last member of The Seven that was alive.
She came forward and patted me on the shoulder. She pulled me into a soft hug, as if she were afraid that I would break if she held me too tight. I hugged her back.
"I loved him."
She looked shocked for a second. But she soon recovered and smiled slightly. She tightened her hold and pulled me closer. Tears welled up in her eyes. She closed her eyes, and a lone tear escaped and rolled down her left cheek.
"Me too, me… too."
We just held each other and sobbed. I didn't care if anyone saw us. The Sun was setting though it was only late afternoon. Even the cheery Apollo was in despair, it seemed. It felt good to finally say what I had held back for decades.
Because I knew, from the start, that we were not meant to be.