And the dedication goes to...@IZEnderson! It comes out May 1!

Luke POV.

The last thing Luke thought he'd needed was to stumble upon the dead body.

He guessed even after his life and death and second life, he was still surprised at the things the fates threw at him. Or maybe it was just that he wasn't quite sure what he needed. But he was pretty sure it wasn't a dead body. Yeah he was pretty sure what he truly needed was a way out.

Okay, image the best place in the world. This place is warm and welcoming. The air smells fresh and tastes almost like Autumn candy. The light stands through the trees leaves that spiral down calmly. Birds and other animals playfully make noises, that didn't seem at all like they're about to kill you.

Now imagine the exact opposite and you get the situation Luke is in.

It was freezing, the ground was cracked and uneven. The air was frigid and harsh wind smacked his face and tore at his robes, bringing wafts of sour smells.

Things scrambled along the rock ground. Plants that looked disturbingly like inhuman creatures randomly sprouted from the earth bed. Hidden eyes and creatures made elusive noises that, Luke wasn't going to lie, scared the bloody hell out of him.

His Hogwarts robes snagged on shrubs and every single time his breath caught thinking something had attacked him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. It was dark and the only light was the dark purple ground that reminded too much of his death dreams of Chaos.

He shuddered remembering the horrifying face and cloak, and forced his dreams away.

Luke had tripped and fallen so many times, he wondered why he wasn't just crawling.

But then he fell and he felt something under him. Something soft, unlike the cold rocky earth he'd already cut and bruised himself on. He recoiled like lightning back his hand slicing over a shard cut rock.

He cursed turning his hand to see a gushing blood river swimming down his wrist. His hand shook involuntary. He yanked the helm of his ruined cloak desperately wrapping the cut. something tumbled from his pocket and he froze at a weird sound of hollow wood bouncing on the upturned rock.

The purple light of the earth gave little sight and he picked up his wizarding wand. It wasn't quite his. It was slick and black with a sturdy grip. Harry Potter had once taken his wand in a duel and thankfully he'd given it back.

Luke wasn't sure what he would've done without it. Magic was unpredictable with other wizards wands. Especially if you were a demigod, not to mention a dead son of Hermes come back to life.

But now he wanted to face palm. He'd had his wand the entire time and didn't even think to use it. His mind pinched slightly swiveling between his demigod skills and his wizarding spells.

He was Luke Castellan, son of Hermes, enemy of Olympus, host of Kronos, True hero of the first Great Prophecy. His sword was a deadly combination of celestial bronze and tempered steel. He was the makeshift older brother of Annabeth Chase and Thalia Grace.

He was a dead soul, torn from after life by the Fates.

But he was Draco Malfoy, pure blood, proud, arrogant. He was a deatheater, forced into service by his family in an attempt to preserve his life. He wielded a wand with an exuberant list of spells, and a wicked tongue with a uncanny skill in potions. He was above his friends.

It was like being two different people. Is this how the gods felt differing between their Greek and Roman forms?

His hand stung underneath the makeshift wrap, his wand hand rendering useless. But he fit the wooden stick into his other hand.

"Lumos."

His own voice sounded foreign and scratchy in his mouth. How long had he been here? How long had he stumbled blind?

The top of his wand lit up with white color, his green and silver crest pressed against his wrist. With the new light he almost wished he hadn't. His wrist was discoloring the robe dark red soaking through, his legs were rubbed red smudged with blood, his knees were blue and purple. He winced.

Then he saw exactly what he tripped over. And all of his self pity drowned in a tortured screamed.

Golden princess curls, pale white skin, unmoving chest, limp hands crumpled against the chipping earth like it had just coughed her up. Her eyes were closed like she was sleeping, but her face was screwed, making her death have seemed agonizingly slow.

Luke felt his heart thud against his chest. Suddenly he couldn't get enough air in this hole of darkness.

"Anna-Annabeth!" He choked. He jammed his wand in his mouth the world tilting with the light almost. His good hand frantically checked for a pulse. Tears built up behind his eyes threatening to unleash in a flood of despair. "Please don't be dead! Please don't be dead!"

There wasn't a pulse.

Her voices echoed in his thoughts. He should've know better than to make a promised he couldn't keep. He never should've left. Family, Luke, Gods of Olympus, How could he had have been so...so...selfish? He turned his back on her, just like her dad, just like her mom, just like every one. He resented his own family for years because of their lack of care for him, only he made the exact same mistakes.

His hand hovered over her, as if unsure whether he had permission to touch her or not.

He felt the cold cruel wind slam his face drying his eyes to tears. The whiplash breeze laughed at him. The rocks of the ground trembled.

Chaos.

He could feel it in his twisted soul. Chaos had done this. Just like he'd sworn to do in the dreams. The seconds that felt like they lasted years, if collections of memories tampered.

Chaos had tried to recruit him, bargaining with a new life, riches, a true love, and tempting him with forgiveness from his friends. Even as the primordial stood in the form of his mom, Luke could sense an evil motive. He wouldn't be a solider for a year or two, he'd serve for the rest of his second life. Chaos tried to deceive him, tried to use him as a doorway to the other demigods trust. Luke refused. Chaos had shown his true colors then. His vortex face, his blood red planet eyes, his hands that stretched into slick knife nails. His cloak spun the universe stars exploding so fast it made his head hurt.

l will destroy everything. Your camp will burn. Your friends from ago will turn on each other. I will crush the life from the family you left behind.

And He did. Chaos had crushed his family.

He did know one thing, he wasn't going to leave Annabeth here. There wasn't even a chance he was. Not even if his life depended on it. His little sister was going to make it out of this place. No matter what.

"INCONCEIVABLE!" Luke jerked around. His wand flung into his hand again. It was impossible for what happened next. Luke barely had time to process what was happening.

The thing was huge. A massive blob of purple glop bigger than Mrs. O'Leary lunged at him. It's face was a grotesquely snout with a snake slit noise and crooked razor teeth jutting out of its mouth. It screeched landed on Luke's chest.

"Inconceivable, human!" It yelled. Spit sizzled onto his face, burning like acid. Luke got a very unwanted look into its mouth where three triangular tongues scraped the foaming mouth. The weight on Luke's chest was enormous, the feeling of a white hot blade digging into lungs.

"BETRAYAL!" It howled. "INCONCEIVABLE TRICKERY!"

Luke yelled out in pain, his good arm and wand crushed underneath his body his bloody hand hurt worse than his chest. Laid unmoving in the purple and scattered light. It the dark the mass pulsed like it's entire body was a giant heart. The stench was unbearable, like fifty thousand years of bloodshed and corpses collected into one distorted clump.

Then it howled, yelping and leaping off of Luke.  A sword embedded itself in the creatures side, oily blood flowed out, Luke drenched in the formula.

"INCONCEIVABLE!" The monster screeched arching and crumbling, like the sword had cut into sand instead, fine grains pouring into the ground mixing with blood.

A man stood beyond the darkness, his hair frizzy and long, like it need a complete hair cut. His skin was dark in the light but he looked to have a Spanish descent. He was dress in old time-y clothes, a gray tunic and tights with boots that could not be comfortable. A sword was in his hand, a shape unfamiliar to Luke.

He glared down at the son of Hermes like he was the reason for everything.

"Put out the light!" He commanded flicking his blade to the wand.

"Who are you?" Luke asked ignoring his command.

The man flared his nostrils. "Hello my name is Inigo Montoya. Put out that light or prepare to die."

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Yes I am well aware this is crappy and short.

Trivia Time!

Winner gets a dedication next chapter!

How long did Annabeth, Percy, and Grover stay in the Lotus Casino?

As for that ending, for those of you who have not seen the Princess Bride, don't worry about it. They will probably only be in two more chapters, so it won't really matter if you've seen it.

I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE PRINCESS BRIDE CHARACTERS. OBVIOUSLY THAT GOES TO THE WRITERS AND CREATORS OF THE PRINCESS BRIDE.

And wonderful, I think I'm done.

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FLAME SPURTS, LIGHTNING SAND, R.O.U.S.S!!

~Greenninjagal