CHAPTER TWENTY

₊˚࿐࿔ 𖥧‧₊⚘ ❀༉. 𓏲｡

So Sylvie was freaking out.

Again.

Like usual.

Sue her. This time it was very warranted.

It wasn't every day that the Oracle came out of the attic to directly tell someone a prophecy, and it wasn't all that common for these prophecies to directly mention half-bloods from a specific cabin in the lines. Sylvie was also absolutely positive that when these prophecies were spoken, the green mist didn't swirl around a person who wasn't receiving the prophecy.

All of these things had just happened, by the way.

Sylvie was about ready to run back to her cabin and have an all-out panic attack, but she simply couldn't. Miranda and Cedar had found her, sounding terrified of what they heard, and it occurred to Sylvie then that everyone had been too focused on the Oracle. They missed the mist surrounding Sylvie.

She couldn't stand the look of fear on her siblings' faces. So despite the rapid beating of her own heart, she took them back to the cabin and assured them everything would be fine. Sylvie wasn't going to let anything happen to them. She didn't have anyone to do the same thing for her, but Sylvie was starting to realize that fate came naturally when you were in charge.

A part of her hated it, but then she felt so childish for thinking that way. It was like Luke taunting her for being Little Sylv again. She was just Little Sylv who couldn't even handle a few rhyming lines—she was that weak child again, desperate for a hug from anyone who would give comfort to her, and only her big sister being available.

Eurydice wasn't here right now. Sylvie needed to grow the fuck up.

Another part of currently being the oldest in her cabin meant that Sylvie was Demeter's head counselor. Sylvie had been aware of this for the past two weeks she was forced into the role, but it never really hit her. Not until Chiron called a council of cabin leaders to discuss the prophecy. Unfortunately, that included Sylvie now.

The council was held around a Ping-Pong table in the rec room. Dionysus waved his hand and supplied snacks: Cheez Whiz, crackers, and several bottles of red wine. Then Chiron reminded him that wine was against his restrictions and most of them were underage. Mr. D sighed. With a snap of his fingers, the wine turned to Diet Coke. Nobody drank that either.

Mr. D and Chiron (in wheelchair form) sat at one end of the table. Zoë and Bianca (who had kind of become Zoë's personal assistant) took the other end. Percy, Thalia, Grover, Silena, and Beckendorf sat along the right, and the other head councilors—Sylvie, the Stoll brothers, and Castor and Pollux—sat on the left. The Apollo cabin was too busy healing people after the game. The Ares kids were supposed to send a representative, too, but all of them had gotten broken limbs (accidentally) during capture the flag, courtesy of the Hunters. They were resting up in the infirmary with aforementioned Apollo kids.

Don't worry, Phoenix was fine. Sylvie visited him, and to piss him off further, grew him a few flowers as a joke. He hated cutesy acts coming from anyone besides Mickey (and he knew Sylvie was doing it to belittle him), but with both his arms broken, he couldn't get rid of them. The angry look on his face was so priceless Sylvie wanted to preserve it in a museum.

Zoë started the meeting off on a positive note: "This is pointless."

"Cheez Whiz!" Grover gasped. He began scooping up crackers and Ping-Pong balls and spraying them with topping.

"There is no time for talk," Zoë continued. "Our goddess needs us. The Hunters must leave immediately."

"And go where?" Chiron asked.

"West!" Bianca said.

Sylvie was amazed at how different she looked after just a few days with the Hunters. Her dark hair was braided like Zoë's now, so you could actually see her face. She had a splash of freckles across her nose, and her dark eyes vaguely reminded Sylvie of someone famous, but she couldn't think who. Bianca looked like she'd been working out, and her skin glowed faintly, like the other Hunters, as if she'd been taking showers in liquid moonlight.

"You heard the prophecy. Six shall go west to the goddess in chains. We can get six hunters and go."

"Yes," Zoë agreed. "Artemis is being held hostage! We must find her and free her."

"You're missing something, as usual." Thalia said. "Campers and Hunters combined prevail. We're supposed to do this together."

"No!" Zoë said. "The Hunters do not need thy help."

"Your," Thalia grumbled. "Nobody has said thy in, like, three hundred years, Zoë. Get with the times."

Zoë hesitated, like she was trying to form the word correctly. "Yerrr. We do not need yerrr help."

Thalia rolled her eyes. "Forget it."

"I fear the prophecy says you do need our help," Chiron said. "Campers and Hunters must cooperate."

"Or do they?" Mr. D mused, swirling his Diet Coke under his nose like it had a fine bouquet. "One shall be lost. Feel heartbreak's blow. One shall perish. That sounds rather nasty, doesn't it? What if you fail because you try to cooperate?"

"Mr. D," Chiron sighed, "with all due respect, whose side are you on?"

Dionysus raised his eyebrows. "Sorry, my dear centaur. Just trying to be helpful."

"We're supposed to work together," Thalia said stubbornly. "I don't like it either, Zoë, but you know prophecies. You want to fight against one?"

Zoë grimaced, but Sylvie could tell Thalia had scored a point.

"We must not delay," Chiron warned. "Today is Sunday. This very Friday, December twenty-first, is the winter solstice."

"Oh, joy," Dionysus muttered. "Another dull annual meeting."

"Artemis must be present at the solstice," Zoë said. "She has been one of the most vocal on the council arguing for action against Kronos's minions. If she is absent, the gods will decide nothing. We will lose another year of war preparations."

"Are you suggesting that the gods have trouble acting together, young lady?" Dionysus asked.

"Yes, Lord Dionysus."

Mr. D nodded. "Just checking. You're right, of course. Carry on."

"I must agree with Zoë," said Chiron. "Artemis's presence at the winter council is critical. We have only one week to find her. And possibly even more important: to locate the monster she was hunting. Now, we must decide who goes on this quest."

"Three and three," Percy said.

Everybody looked at him. Thalia even forgot to ignore the poor dude.

"We're supposed to have six," Percy said, sounding self-conscious at the attention. "Three Hunters, three from Camp Half-Blood. That's more than fair."

Thalia and Zoë exchanged looks.

"Well," Thalia said. "It does make sense."

Zoë grunted. "I would prefer to take all the Hunters. We will need strength of numbers."

"You'll be retracing the goddess's path," Chiron reminded her. "Moving quickly. No doubt Artemis tracked the scent of this rare monster, whatever it is, as she moved west. You will have to do the same. The prophecy was clear: The bane of Olympus shows the trail. What would your mistress say? 'Too many Hunters spoil the scent.' A small group is best."

Zoë picked up a Ping-Pong paddle and studied it like she was deciding who she wanted to whack first. "This monster—the bane of Olympus. I have hunted at Lady Artemis's side for many years, yet I have no idea what this beast might be."

Everybody looked at Dionysus, because he was the only god present and gods were supposed to know things. He was flipping through a wine magazine, but when everyone got silent he glanced up. "Well, don't look at me. I'm a young god, remember? I don't keep track of all those ancient monsters and dusty titans. They make for terrible party conversation."

"Chiron," Percy said, "you don't have any ideas about the monster?"

Chiron pursed his lips. "I have several ideas, none of them good. And none of them quite make sense. Typhon, for instance, could fit this description. He was truly a bane of Olympus. Or the sea monster Keto. But if either of these were stirring, we would know it. They are ocean monsters the size of skyscrapers. Your father, Poseidon, would already have sounded the alarm. I fear this monster may be more elusive. Perhaps even more powerful."

"That's some serious danger you're facing," Connor Stoll said (Sylvie liked how he said you and not we). "It sounds like at least two of the six are going to die."

"And one of you is going to get your heart broken," Travis Stoll added.

Suddenly everyone's heads slowly turned Sylvie's way.

"Oh, no," Sylvie pleaded. "Please. No. Please don't look a me. I don't want to go on a quest!"

"The child of grain will feel heartbreak's blow," Castor recited. He just sounded grateful Florian wasn't here to be considered for the role. "That has to mean a Demeter kid, Sylvie."

"Yeah, but it doesn't have to be me."

Pollux gestured with his hands around the room, looking for the other Demeter kids that Sylvie was supposedly referring to. "Who else, then? Your twelve-year-old sister, or the ten-year-old who just got here last week?"

"I—" Sylvie's words fell short at the point Pollux made. She was growing increasingly more uncomfortable under the attention and negative spotlight—she fidgeted with her fingerless glove. Sylvie slowly slumped further in her chair. "Eurydice could come back, you know. Or show up in the middle of the quest."

"You're really betting on that?" Thalia asked, unimpressed.

Sylvie looked down awkwardly. "No..."

She really wished she could, though. Sylvie hated this, she hated this, she hated this. If Eurydice was here, she would know exactly what to do. She wasn't anything like Sylvie—she could actually make decisions and be brave enough to act on them. Sylvie resented Chiron a little for choosing now to send her big sister on a secret mission. It couldn't have waited until after they assigned people for a deadly quest?

"Okay, we're moving on," Percy ordered the rest of them, but his eyes were still on Sylvie. She finally glanced back up just to meet Percy's gaze gratefully. He sent her a little nod that said You're welcome.

But what Sylvie heard was I know you, and her heart was speeding up again. It was a thought more stupefying than the lines of the prophecy.

"One shall be lost in the land without rain," Beckendorf said. "If I were you, I'd stay out of the desert."

There was a muttering of agreement.

"And the Titan's curse must one withstand," Silena said. "What could that mean?"

Sylvie saw Chiron and Zoë exchange a nervous look, but whatever they were thinking, they didn't say it.

"One shall perish by a parent's hand," Grover said in between bites of Cheez Whiz and Ping-Pong balls. "How is that possible? Whose parent would kill them?"

There was a heavy silence around the table.

Sylvie's mind betrayed her and couldn't help itself from conjuring up the worst theories possible. She connected the line of heartbreak to the line of perishing by a parent's hand, and suddenly was thinking of a love story hidden inside the wildflowers that you would only be lucky to know beforehand. Sylvie wondered—a little horribly, her eyes on Percy—if the residual trauma from her parent's love story only got her killed in the end? What if this really was history repeating itself? What if they were another Greek tragedy?

"There will be deaths," Chiron decided. "That much we know."

"Oh, goody!" Dionysus said.

Everyone looked at him. He glanced up innocently from the pages of Wine Connoisseur magazine. "Ah, pinot noir is making a comeback. Don't mind me."

"But you can't even drink wine?" Sylvie pointed out in confusion. She couldn't help herself.

"Don't remind me, Saliva Donut," Dionysus frowned in despair.

"Percy is right," Silena said. "Three campers should go."

"Oh, I see," Zoë said sarcastically. "And I suppose you wish to volunteer?"

Silena blushed. "I'm not going anywhere with the Hunters. Don't look at me!"

"A daughter of Aphrodite does not wish to be looked at," Zoë scoffed. "What would thy mother say?"

Silena started to get out of her chair, but Beckendorf pulled her back.

"Stop it," he said. Beckendorf was a big guy with a bigger voice. He didn't talk much, but when he did, people tended to listen. "Let's start with the Hunters. Which three of you will go?"

Zoë stood. "I shall go, of course, and I will take Phoebe. She is our best tracker."

"The big girl who likes to hit people on the head?" Travis asked cautiously.

Zoë nodded.

"The one who put arrows in my helmet?" Connor added.

"Yes," Zoë snapped. "Why?"

"Oh, nothing," Travis said. "Just that we have a T-shirt for her from the camp store." He held up a big silver T-shirt that said ARTEMIS THE MOON GODDESS, FALL HUNTING TOUR 2002, with a huge list of national parks and stuff underneath. "It's a collector's item. She was admiring it. You want to give it to her?"

Sylvie knew the Stolls were up to something. They always were. But she guessed Zoë didn't know them as well as Sylvie did. Zoë just sighed and took the T-shirt.

"As I was saying, I will take Phoebe. And I wish Bianca to go."

Bianca looked stunned. "Me? But... I'm so new. I wouldn't be any good."

"You will do fine," Zoë insisted. "There is no better way to prove thyself."

Bianca closed her mouth. Sylvie felt sorry for her. She remembered what she was like on her first quest last summer. Sylvie had felt totally unprepared, a lot resentful, and a lot more scared. She figured the same things were running around in Bianca's head right now. They were running through Sylvie's, too

"And for campers?" Chiron asked.

"Well, Sylvie Duvall must go," Zoë vouched for her, and Sylvie's cheeks heated up again. "After all, I suppose she is mentioned in the prophecy. And the only camper here I would wish to go."

Sylvie shook her head again. "We really can just skip those lines. I promise. It's fine by me."

"Sylvie," Chiron finally interjected, his smile kind but sad. "Unfortunately, Zoë is right in this. Either you choose to volunteer Miranda or Cedar, or you go on the quest yourself."

It was a trap, Sylvie knew. There was no way she would ever send her little siblings to do Sylvie's bidding for her. That left only one option available, and Sylvie almost hated it just as much.

"Fine," she groaned. Her hands clenched the sides of the chair. "I'll... I'll go."

"Now that that's settled: Who else?"

"Me!" Grover stood up so fast he bumped the Ping-Pong table. He brushed cracker crumbs and Ping-Pong ball scraps off his lap. "Anything to help Artemis!"

Zoë wrinkled her nose. "I think not, satyr. You are not even a half-blood."

"But he is a camper," Thalia said. "And he's got a satyr's senses and woodland magic. Can you play a tracker's song yet, Grover?"

"Absolutely!"

Zoë wavered. Luckily she thought a tracker's song was a good thing.

"Very well," Zoë said. "And the third camper?"

"I'll go." Thalia stood and looked around, daring anyone to question her.

Percy must have suddenly realized that they'd reached the number six, and he wasn't in the group. "Woah, wait a sec," he said. "I want to go too."

"Perfect!" Sylvie jumped at the sudden opportunity. "Percy can go in my place, and everyone's just a happy little camper!"

"Not quite," Chiron argued, albeit fond. "Sylvie, you know you must go."

Sylvie slumped in her chair again, misery painted all over her face. Sure, she wanted to save Annabeth, but her fear was an overcoming monster that consumed her and any other desires she might have. No one else understood what it was like—they weren't directly mentioned to have an inevitable heartbreak that "shattered idolatry."

"You people are out to get me," she grumbled.

That still left the lingering problem—Percy's unyielding desire to go on the quest. Once again, his bravery astounded her. It made Sylvie wonder what Percy thought of her.Sshe had to be the most cowardly and pathetic demigod in his eyes. Here he was, begging to be put on this quest to save his best friend, while Sylvie was begging not to.

Most days Sylvie wondered why Percy kept her around. Her entire existence was so deplorably unappealing that it even killed her inside. She found herself waking up every day with the wish she was different, but she never changed. She would always be undesirable Silviana Duvall.

"Oh," Grover said, when Percy didn't let up. "Woah, yeah, I forgot! Percy has to go. I didn't mean... I'll stay. Percy should go in my place."

"He cannot," Zoë said. "He is a boy. I won't have Hunters traveling with a boy."

"You traveled here with me," Percy reminded her.

"That was a short-term emergency, and it was ordered by the goddess. I will not go across country and fight many dangers in the company of a boy."

"What about Grover?" he demanded.

Zoë shook her head. "He does not count. He's a satyr. He is not technically a boy."

"Hey!" Grover and Sylvie protested.

"I have to go," Percy said. "I need to be on this quest."

"Why?" Zoë asked. "Because of thy friend Annabeth?"

Frustrated, Percy argued, "No! I mean, partly—I just feel like I'm supposed to go!"

For a moment, nobody rose to Percy's defense, and it made Sylvie feel bad. Mr. D looked bored, still reading his magazine. Silena, the Stoll brothers, Beckendorf, Castor, and Pollux were staring at the table. Bianca gave him a look of pity. So Sylvie said,

"Zoë, I really think you should let Percy go. He's a million times better at everything than I am. He'd be really useful for this."

"No," Zoë said flatly. "Not only do I not believe thee, but I insist upon this. I will take a satyr if I must, but not a male hero."

Chiron sighed. "The quest is for Artemis. The Hunters should be allowed to approve their companions."

Sylvie shot Percy a sorry look that told him she tried. But he couldn't even meet her eyes, he was so incredulous. He just sat there as Chiron concluded the council.

"So be it," he said. "Thalia, Sylvie, and Grover will accompany Zoë, Bianca, and Phoebe. You shall leave at first light. And may the gods"—he glanced at Dionysus—"present company included, we hope—be with you."

╰━━━ ◦ ❀ ◦ ❀◦ ━━━╯

Percy didn't show up for dinner that night, so all of Sylvie, Grover, and Chiron came looking for him. Sylvie threw open his cabin door before he could do anything about it.

"Percy, I'm so sorry!" Grover said, sitting next to him on the bunk. "I didn't know they'd—that you'd—Honest!"

Grover started to sniffle, and Percy must've figured if he didn't cheer Grover up that Grover would either start bawling or chewing up his mattress. Grover tended to eat household objects whenever he got upset.

"It's okay," Percy lied. "Really. It's fine."

Sylvie caught onto this lie, said, "Percy, I promise I tried to switch. I kept asking Zoë all day, but she wouldn't budge. I'm really sorry."

And Percy looked at her, and it must've suddenly dawned on him how weird he was being toward Sylvie. His face twisted with a twinge of guilt, and he sighed.

"Don't be sorry," he said firmly. "You didn't do anything wrong."

He was definitely just taking pity on her because of what the prophecy said, but it was still nice to hear.

"I wasn't even thinking," Grover's lower lip trembled. "I was so focused on helping Artemis. But I promise, me and Sylvie will look everywhere for Annabeth. If we can find her, we will."

"And we will be able to find her," Sylvie added. She wasn't one for optimism but Percy looked so dejected that she deemed it necessary.

Percy just nodded.

"Grover, Sylvie," Chiron said, "perhaps you'd let me have a word with Percy?"

"But—"

"Sure," Grover sniffled.

Chiron waited.

"Oh," Grover said. "You mean alone. Sure, Chiron." As Sylvie and Grover walked out, Sylvie patted his back comfortably while he cried. "Nobody needs a goat!"

"Sure, they do," Sylvie comforted, and the door shut behind them.

Sylvie didn't remember falling asleep, but she remembered the dream.

She was starting to think that her mind hated her—that her dreams were made to be different than any other demigods'. This wasn't the first time she was forced to watch a past memory, and it probably wasn't the last.

Demeter. It's been so long.

Dad, no, a shaky voice pleaded. Dad, it's just me.

Sylvie knew who these speakers were. It was Conan Duvall and a weak daughter who knew she should just go along with her father's delusions, but not being able to because she was so desperate to be remembered by him.

It's me. It's Sylvie.

There was a reason Sylvie only danced in the living room with her dad when she was younger. As she got older, it only turned into a place where nightmares came alive. Fears were hashed out between a father who couldn't help himself, and a daughter who couldn't help him either.

I dunno who you are, Conan scowled. Her dad was getting more confused. Angrier. Wilder.

Dad, Sylvie's voice cracked, please, it's Sil. I'm not—I'm not Mom—

You left me!

I'm not Demeter! the little girl pleaded. She backed away as her father stepped closer. I'm Sil, I'm your daughter!

Conan roared, YOU SAID IT WAS YOU AN' ME! and Sylvie flinched back. Her heel ran into the couch behind herself and she winced.

I'm not Mom—

YOU SAID YOU'D STAY!

She didn't know how many times she had to say it. She didn't know what else to say to make him know. To make him remember. Sylvie was being forgotten. Sylvie was being forgotten. Sylvie was being forgotten.

And then, another voice. An unfamiliar voice:

Human hearts can only take so much hurt, it said. Or maybe it was a he. His voice was unspeakably old, cold, and powerful, like knives scraping against stone. A half-blood's heart isn't much different, especially if it's been foolishly given to the wrong people.

Kronos.

This wasn't a part of the memory.

There is a great power inside of you, Silviana Duvall. Sylvie didn't think anything could scare her more than her dad in an episode, but she was quickly being proven wrong now. A power that they don't understand.

His voice was coming out of her father's mouth. This wasn't how the story was supposed to go—Sylvie was supposed to get backed into the couch, and by the end of it, there would be three scratch marks on her face. But now, Conan was speaking, yet unmoving. Sylvie was paralyzed in fear.

But I do, said Kronos-Conan. I know you. Join me, Silviana Duvall, and I will make sure everyone remembers that name. Even your father. You will not be forgotten.

Sylvie woke with gasp.

She felt like she was burning up, but her sweat was cold. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't breathe, she couldn't breathe. Sylvie clutched over her chest with one hand, and pushed backwards with the other, her legs kicking until Sylvie's back slammed against her headboard.

Sylvie thought her face was sweating the most, but they were just hot tears streaming down her cheeks at an uncontrollable rate. Childishly, she wondered, Where is Eurydice? Her brain was expecting to hear a story about a poor boy turning around for a hungry, young girl, but it never came.

Sylvie's eyes darted desperately around the cabin for someone to help her, to comfort her. All she found was Miranda and Cedar sleeping soundly in their respective bunks. There was no Conan Duvall. There was no Kronos. There was no Eurydice reaching out to put her back to sleep with a story.

Sylvie let out a heaving breath all at once, body deflating miserably and head throwing backwards to hit the wall with a thud. She screwed her eyes shut, trying to make all the lasting horrors go away, but that only made the visions come back to a haunt her in completely worse ways. She opened her eyes again.

Outside the window, Sylvie noted that moonlight's glow was dimming outside. It was going down, which meant that soon, the sun would be coming up. There had to be a little bit of irony in that, but Sylvie's mind was too disoriented to make the connection. All she really gathered was that first light was near, and Sylvie had to leave for her quest in just a short amount of time.

Sylvie wiped away the wetness of her face, pushed back her hair damped from the sweat. She quietly got up from her bed to start getting ready for her inevitable death—sorry, her impending quest.

Sylvie went through the motions any person would for their morning routine; except, she was worrying about death and heartbreak the entire time, which probably wasn't as typical. She didn't leave the bathroom until she peed, she nervous-pooped, her teeth were brushed, her face was washed, she was properly dressed, and her hair was done.

When Sylvie did leave the bathroom, however, she was scared a million feet backwards by Miranda, who had been waiting for Sylvie to come out.

"Fuck, Miranda," Sylvie whispered, so as to not wake Cedar. Her heart was racing faster.

"Sorry," she said sheepishly.

Sylvie recovered from the jump-scare, exhaling when she took in the sight of her worried, little sister.

"No, that's—that's my fault. I didn't mean to wake you."

Miranda shrugged. "I was hoping to catch you before you left."

She and Cedar had told Sylvie their goodbyes last night, because they knew she had to leave early, but Sylvie supposed Miranda wanted to save the more personal feelings for when the two were alone. It wasn't anything against Cedar, but he was just so new and young that he didn't yet understand the dangers of being on a quest. Of being so close to your half-siblings.

"I'm gonna be fine, Miranda. Okay?"

Now whether Sylvie genuinely believed that was none of her sister's business. The truth was that Sylvie was absolutely terrified and had no hope for her survival, especially without Percy or Annabeth there, but she had to provide hope for Miranda's sake.

"Okay..." but Miranda still eyed her nervously. "And you'll come back, right?"

"With my heart completely in tact," Sylvie put three fingers up as if she were a girl scout.

Miranda finally cracked a smile, her tension crumbling as the moon crept lower. Her arms uncrossed, and the look on Miranda's face hit her like a ton of bricks. Sylvie couldn't help but thinking that she had to be telling the truth now. For Miranda. For Cedar. For Eurydice, Florian, Katie, and everyone else that meant so much to Sylvie. Because maybe, a little vainly, Sylvie was starting to think she meant something to them, too.

So Sylvie hugged Miranda, and Miranda hugged back, and if Sylvie's shirt was a little wet when Miranda pulled away, Sylvie didn't say anything. They said their parting words, and Sylvie even left some for Miranda to deliver to Cedar.

Then Sylvie threw on the bag she had packed for herself (since she didn't have anyone to pack it for her) and left the cabin just as first light hit.

╰━━━ ◦ ❀ ◦ ❀◦ ━━━╯

BAILEY YAPS...

Aka Sylvie is going a little insane having to be the one in charge

Aka if this were the Hunger Games Sylvie would be the world's most involuntary tribute

Y'all have characters haunt the narrative nah I have a relationship that haunts the narrative Conan and Demeter will follow Sylvie down till the sound of their voices will haunt her I fear... We hear Stevie Nicks in the distance...

Percy saying you're welcome and Sylvie hearing I know you lalala She is the delusional obsessed girl ever. I love her and will support her delusions until the day I die

I'm not even lying like I think Mr. D and Chiron are so gay for each other. I thought this the first time I read the series and I still think it today. #CHIONYSUS NATION RISE!!!

I would make a Mr. D joke but y'all would get mad at me...

Not even lying one of the Mr. D nickname ideas I had for Duvall was Dildo but it felt like that was going a bit too far... Just know my intentions were in the right place... Notes app paragraph and youtube apology coming soon...

I just want yall to know that in the show there'd soo be a parallel of young Sylvie telling Percy "You're better at this than me" and older Percy telling Sylvie "You're better at this than me." 

But that's neither here nor there folks!! xx