Chapter Text
Before Dawn
"When daylight kneels where silence lies..."
Camp Half-Blood was quiet before sunrise. It was Lyra’s favorite time of the day when she was actually awake, anyway.
The camp always felt different then, as though the world itself had forgotten to wake up. The cabins were still; the lake reflected the last remaining stars as the sun began to kiss the sky, and the only sound was the waves gently meeting the shore. Most campers slept.
Lyra had been awake for an hour now. Not because she had enough rest. She never had enough rest, but because she hadn’t truly slept. She sat on the dock with a steaming cup of chamomile tea clasped between her hands, her fingers tapping a beat to a song lost to a dream, watching the horizon begin to brighten, and the world slowly beginning to awaken.
“You’ve been here all night again.”
She sighed with a small smile but did not turn around. “Have I?” she said sleepily, a yawn hanging on the end of the sentence.
Luke Castellan dropped onto the dock beside her with all the elegance of someone who had given up being graceful years ago. The wooden planks creaked beneath his weight, balancing on his knee two slices of toast on a chipped plate.
“You skipped dinner,” he said, id a mouthful of the toast he had just bitten.
Lyra glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, before returning to the sunrise.
“I wasn’t hungry.”
“You always say that”
“I usually mean it”
“Well, I had to steal these so...” He announced proudly as he lifted a piece of toast to her. Lyra finally looked at him.
“Congratulations,” she said rather flatly
“Thank you!”
“You’re admitting to theft”
“Borrowing”
“From the Dining Pavilion?”
“Exactly”
She took the slice anyway, and Luke grinned a triumphant grin, though darkness lingered in his eyes.
“See? Now you’re an accomplice”
Lyra tore a small piece of toast from the corner.
“Worth it.”
“That’s the spirit”
They ate in a comfortable silence while the first rays of sunlight crept across the lake.
“So...”
She hummed in response.
“You weren’t in your bunk.”
“No.”
“Which usually means one of two things.”
She waited.
“Either you fell asleep somewhere ridiculous...”
“Possible”
“...or you’ve been dreamwalking again.”
Her smile disappeared.
“The second one.”
She never was one for many words, but Luke didn’t mind; he simply waited for her.
“There were more nightmares”
“Campers?”
She hesitated,
“And satyrs”
Luke frowned.
“That’s...new.”
Lyra nodded
“They’re getting worse?”
“A little”
“How little is ‘a little’?”
She looked back at the water; the sun was now beginning to warm her chilled skin.
“...Enough”
Luke let out a slow breath.
“You’re terrible at reassuring people.”
“I’ve been told.”
“By me.”
“Mostly by you.”
She didn’t tell him more;
she couldn’t;
Dreams were secrets and truths all wrapped in one. She couldn't tell him about the shadow she’d seen watching from the edge of one dream or the strange feeling that someone had been watching her in return. She wasn’t ready to admit that out loud. Luke sighed,
“You know, one day you'll have to stop carrying everyone else's nightmares?”
Lyra looked down at her half-drunk tea,
“If I don’t...”
She didn't finish her sentence. She didn't need to. Luke understood; od he always did. He stood and ruffled her hair as he walked away.
“Come on, it's breakfast and training start in an hour”
“I'll be there”
“You said that yesterday”
“And I meant it yesterday”
“You arrived after lunch”
“I was tired”
Luke laughed as he disappeared towards the cabins, shaking his head at his narcoleptic friend.
“You’re impossible”
“So, I have been told,” She mumbled into her mug. Left alone once more, Lyra watched the Sun fully begin to paint the sky. Beautiful, Warm.
Comforting. She always loved the sunrise.
By breakfast, Camp Half-Blood was buzzing with its usual energy. Children of Ares argued over who cheated during sparring; the Aphrodite Cabin somehow looked perfectly put together despite only just having woken up, and the Hermes cabin, as always, was loud. Maybe loud wasn’t quite the word;d, crowded fit better. Every bunk was full, and spare mattresses lined the cabin floor. Some of the younger campers had made little forts out of blankets between beds. Children of Hermes. Children waiting to be claimed.
Children of gods who would never have cabins of their own. Somehow, they always found room for one more. Lyra slipped into her usual seat near the end of the table, elbows bumping against her cabin mate at the crowded table. Someone nudged her shoulder.
Annabeth Chase. Only twelve but already carrying three books under one arm and a bowl of cereal balanced in her other hand, she looked determined as she always did.
“I heard you slept in a tree again”
“No, on the docks”
“That isn’t any better”
Lyra simply raised her eyebrow in response to the young daughter of Athena, waiting to see what the grey-eyed girl wanted.
“I found that book you were looking for.”
Lyra’s eyes lit up.
“You are officially my favorite person”
“You said that to Luke yesterday after he got you out of training”
“I have favorites for different occasions.”
“That's not how favorites work, Lyra”
“It is now”
Across the pavilion, Chiron watched them with quiet satisfaction. For years, Lyra had been an older sister for many in Cabin 11 and for young Annabeth. She was a patient, gentle girl,rl though lazy at times, es and she always made room for another frightened camper. Chiron knew better than anyone that kindness could become a burden. Lyra had a habit of carrying pain that was never hers to bear; ar, if anyone knew that, it would be Lyra’s mortal mother. One day, he feared, there would be simply too much for the daughter of Hypnos.
That night, Lyra found herself at the base of Thalia’s pine tree, ee curled up with the book from Annabeth. Sleep crept over her slowly, anchoring each of her limbs- her father's embrace those quiet last conscious moments before sleep overtook her.
“Hi dad...”
Silver mist curled around the feet of her dream form; thousands of glowing doors stretched endlessly into the distance. Behind every door slept a soul.
Most held memories.
Some held hopes.
A very few whispered of futures that had yet to pass.
Such dreams were dangerous.
Lyra never lingered at those doors.
She took a deep breath.
Another night.
More nightmares to chase, and dreams to protect. She strolled along, looking for the shadows creeping into the minds of frightened campers or satyrs. She stepped towards a door, a door that should not be possible. Every dream in her father’s realm belonged to someone sleeping.
Every door had an owner.
Yet there, standing alone in the silver mist...
...was a door she had never seen before.
It wasn’t silver.
Or wooden.
It gleamed gold
Warm.
Bright.
Ancient.
"That's..."
She had walked through the Dreamscape for years.
Every path.
Every current.
Every hidden corner.
That door had never existed before.
Slowly, almost cautiously, she reached out her hand.
The handle turned on its own.
Golden light spilled through the crack in the door.
Lyra leaned forward.
She heard—
...
A shout shattered the Dreamscape.
Her eyes flew open. Footsteps thundered across the grass.
"Wake up!"
Another voice, louder this time.
"There's a Minotaur at the edge of camp!"