Patterns Repeat Themselves In History

You..." The Centaur's Eyes Flared Like A Cornered Animal's. "you Should Be Dead.

Hope Does Not Leave Without Being Given Permission.

Two Farewell Gifts," Sadie Muttered, "from Two Gorgeous Guys. I Hate My Life.

A Half-blood Of The Eldest Gods, Shall Reach Sixteen Against All Odds And See The World In Endless Sleep The Hero's Soul, Cursed Blade Shall Reap A Single Choice Shall End His Days Olympus To Preserve Or Raze.

I Survive All Those Battles," She Growled, "and I Get Defeated By A Stupid Chunk Of Rock!