A part of Milo regretted asking in the first place. He figured Lucius would apologize, that wasn't a surprise. But the next words sent his heart dropping into his stomach and then into his feet.

He fell silent and put his hand onto his forehead, lowering his head into his hand. No... no. Ohhhh no. That was absolutely not the thing to have said to Lucius in the first place and now Milo was far more worried for whoever was on the distant war path. Oh he knew full well what could be happening. The implications that he knew paired with the words of Feo.

"No, no, you definitely did not get it through his thick skull," Milo groaned, fishing to take a seat on the nearby stone. "Ohhh sweet Hera, this is an absolute mess and now I know where he is and probably what he's doing."

Milo glanced up briefly squirming lightly with her blazing glare. "... well it's worked so far," he mumbled. Head down, ignore the factions and just survive was pretty much a great way of solving a problem--it solved it by not creating it. Simple as that.

"To put it simply," Milo dared testing the waters with his words. They were picked deliberately and carefully, every syllable was cautiously laid out. "You told Lucius that you have no choice in what you do. You don't understand what kind of person Lucius is, unfortunately I do. Lucius heavily believes everybody has a choice. Everybody has a path to change--it's in his blood. He firmly believes that everybody has a choice, they can change and they're not fixed in destiny--to the point that he will do whatever it takes to solve a problem. What you have done, inadvertently, is given Lucius a problem. Lucius, unlike me, aims for the root of the problem and solves it there. Unfortunately for all of us combined, Lucius didn't have any real parental guidance when growing up. Which means he knows no limits," Milo finished lightly. "I don't know what sort of war path he has been set on. But you, Feo, have likely started some sort of fool-hardy solution that Lucius is aiming to go for."

He stood up reluctantly. "I'm willing to bet he's in the library," Milo rubbed his forehead. "He's in the library, researching who-knows-what because he's got an idea and he's too stubborn ... and stupid... to let go of it."

His heart was in his feet, stomach in his chest. This was bad. This was very, very bad.

So, so bad. And the worst part was he had no clue what kind of idea Lucius had gotten himself into. Was it an actual warpath? Was it studying manipulation?

"... if he has an idea, he is not going to let go of it until the problem is solved," Milo admitted, beginning the long walk toward the library. Everything was slowly coming together. No wonder Lucius hadn't come back, he was probably so furious that any logical or rational thinking had flown out the window. The thrill of whatever he was doing was carrying the adrenaline... and Milo was the unfortunate fool who knew where he was.

Feo opened his mouth to snarl back at Milo, but Lilian shot Feo a glare so sharp it unsettled even him, and any retort he might have been forming died in his throat. Her expression left no room for argument, no space for excuses. He already knew what she expected of him. Without a word, she released his hand, only to step behind him and give him a shove forward. It wasn’t a gentle nudge; it was deliberate, forceful, and filled with unspoken frustration.

She’s pissed.

Feo staggered slightly but caught himself, shooting her a wary glance over his shoulder. He opened his mouth, perhaps to protest, but her glare silenced him once more. Resigned, he turned and began walking briskly down the corridor toward the library, his mind racing.

He had known Lilian for years—most of his life, really. In all that time, he had seen her annoyed, exasperated, even deeply upset. But this? This fiery anger that radiated off her like heat from the sun? This was new. As he walked, his thoughts churned, picking apart the situation and trying to make sense of it. Why was she so mad? Why would Lilian, calm and collected Lilian, be this furious over something so trivial?

He’d always thought of her as a calm, welcoming sea—her waters warm and comforting, the kind you could lose yourself in and feel safe doing so. Her serenity was her hallmark, inherited from her mother, a goddess whose wisdom and tranquility were renowned. Lilian’s powers, however, came from her father: Poseidon, god of the sea, storms, and earthquakes. And now, for the first time, Feo saw that other side of her. The storm god’s fury had seeped into her features, sharpening her gaze and setting her jaw. The serene sea he knew was now roiling with a tempest, and it unnerved him deeply.

What did I do to deserve this? Feo wondered, wracking his brain for answers. Was it calling Lucius thick? Surely that wasn’t it—Lilian had never been one to take offense on someone else’s behalf, especially over something so petty. Could it be that she was fond of Lucius in some way Feo hadn’t noticed? The thought gnawed at him, leaving him even more confused.

Meanwhile, Lilian followed close behind, her pace brisk and unrelenting. Her frustration was palpable in the sound of her footsteps echoing through the hallway. She muttered under her breath, her words peppered with oceanic curses that Feo didn’t fully understand but could tell weren’t complimentary.

“Of all the coral-headed, starfish-brained—” she hissed.

“Okay, I get it!” Feo snapped, throwing a glare over his shoulder. “You’re mad. No need to drag the whole ocean into this.”

Her response was another shove between his shoulder blades, harder this time. “Keep moving, Azzy,” she said, her voice low. “We’re almost there.”

Feo bit back another protest, muttering a string of curses under his breath as he quickened his pace. He needed to focus on what he was going to say to Lucius. If he was supposed to apologize, he’d need to know what for. But as hard as he tried, he couldn’t figure it out. His thoughts swirled aimlessly, chasing themselves like whirlpools.

After what felt like an eternity of walking—and enduring countless verbal jabs from Lilian—they finally reached the library. The grand double doors stood open, revealing rows upon rows of books stretching up toward the high ceilings. The soft glow of enchanted lanterns illuminated the space, casting long, shifting shadows over the polished floors.

Feo hesitated at the threshold, his unease growing. He stood there for a moment, his expression a blend of discomfort and annoyance. The library, normally a haven of quiet and knowledge, now felt like the entrance to a battlefield.

Lilian stepped up beside him, her fiery gaze cutting into him once more. “Well?” she demanded, crossing her arms. “Don’t just stand there. Get in there and fix this.”

Feo shot her a glare of his own, though it lacked any real conviction. With a heavy sigh, he stepped forward, bracing himself.

Milo trailed behind the others as well, not entirely certain where he should go. Did he continue to follow the others? It was probably best... he supposed. His boots were far less loud, comparatively to Lilian. The woman moved with a purposeful gait. He wasn't entirely sure why she was so angry either. They could've just left it at that... said 'oh no' and moved on. But no, she was borderline wrathful at this point and he, too, was confused.

Milo hesitated, staying down from the stairs. If Lucius ran, at least he'd be able to track him this time. He couldn't hear much however, listening and straining to hear.

Lucius gathered the books--two or three--into his arms and moved past the edge of the bookshelf, bringing them to another table. He usually sat down in chairs by flipping the chairs around and leaning into them. It worked better, was far more comfortable and the rest was history.

His sapphire eyes began to draw over the index of the book, drawing a finger down the page. Defensive spell casting, protection charms and miscellaneous spells and charms. That was the one he was looking for.

His finger paused lightly, sensing that he was no longer alone--and that he was being watched. His head lifted up, looking over the other isle and found himself looking at Feo and Lilian.

Feo looked strange, almost frozen. Lilian looked exhausted and Lucius stifled his own emotions. Why--it was probably Lilian's idea. It was almost indubitably Lilian's idea. Which meant he had to be a least somewhat... cordial at the least. But at the least, he didn't have to reveal his large plan, just the small one. It wasn't detrimental, it was just a better way of dealing with the pointed words. He was pathetic since he hadn't stood up for himself. It was hard to fight with a giant pair of wings on his back. Now he was solving that problem! It just required some research to figure out if it could be done in the first place. Egyptian spells had the most promise, but he could also figure out if Norse or Greek spells would work. If it would be easier to cast the spell on something he wore or an inscription that he would have to hold or do... that was the harder part to figure out. Either way, the whole thing would be explained to Lilian.

Lucius reluctantly stood up and made his way through the tight bookshelves, coming to the pair of demigods.

"Can... I help you?" Lucius asked, his tone neutral and cordial at best.

Lucius tilted his head lightly, one hand resting on his side. His sapphire eyes scanned over Feo, noting how uncomfortable he looked. Lilian stood behind Feo as he stepped forward. Lucius shook his head lightly and managed to stifle rolling his eyes. Of course he wouldn't come here of his own volition. Either way, he was less impressed when Feo questioned what he was doing.

"I didn't think I was either," Lucius responded, a touch pointed. But he didn't delve much more into the why he was there, he likely wouldn't unless pestered about it. He caught Lilian jabbing him again.

Lucius tilted his head lightly, watching the pair as Feo attempted to say something and then paused. There were thoughts behind his eyes, something that was more of a realization for this other demigod rather than for Lucius.

He apologized... for earlier. Lucius remained silent and looked between Lilian, Feo and distantly, Milo. A small eyebrow raised just slightly as some of the tension subsided.

Lucius let out a short noise, almost a small sigh. "Thanks," his voice was dry and flat. "You are cordially forgiven. I think I'm going to go back to my research now, next time you have to apologize, make sure you do it out of your own choice and not because a pair of overbearing friends decided you had to."

Milo put his hand on his forehead and his face. Ohh that was great. That was great.

"What are you doing?" Milo said wearily, trying to change the subject. "Or researching...?"

Lucius's sapphire eyes turned from him to Feo.

"I'm looking for ways to hide my wings temporarily," Lucius responded tightly, "a charm or something I can wear and take off to unfurl my wings again. I figure I'll be able to 'stand up for myself' better if I don't have to fight with wings and somebody else," his tone was light and loose, far more proud of himself than his tone was before. It was clear that he had thought he was really doing something with this plan and that he was rather proud of it.

Milo narrowed his eyes in return but was hesitantly optimistic that this was the warpath that Lucius had picked out. It wouldn't be too bad to help him with that, right? ... right? He slowly rose up the stairs and made his way toward the other group of demigods, watching Lucius with a rather scrutinizing eye. But Milo was more adept at telling when things were off with machines, not people.

Lucius turned his gaze back to Feo and Lilian. "Figure that it'll be less of an issue and I won't have to require help or apologies anymore if I can somehow hold my own again," he added briefly. "If you don't mind, I'm going to go back to studying."

Lucius shook his head lightly as the woman dragged the other young man away. The moment they disappeared behind the shelves, his cordial demeanor dropped. His eyes fluttered as he rolled sapphire eyes toward the ceiling above him. It took him a moment to steel his emotions again and finally turn back to head to the table.

Lilian was trying her best, sure, but really? They were all adults. Dragging him around like a petulant child was rather foolish and looked equally as silly. He walked forward, finally, toward the table again, finding Milo sitting down. He rolled his eyes and scoffed for a brief moment. The other demigod looked up at him with a slightly expectant look on his face. Clearly, he wanted to talk. What about? Lucius wasn't entirely sure but he had a fairly good idea.

"That went ... well ..." Milo's tone was cautious at best, quiet and hesitant at the most. He picked his words and tone as if he were walking on eggshells as he watched his friend piece through the pages of the books once again. "What... what all did you talk about?"

"I apologized for running into him," Lucius responded cordially, his tone dry and devoid of much emotion. "He accepted it, or so I thought, then nearly stated something about me standing up for myself and the fact that I didn't was... well, he didn't finish that sentence but I knew what he meant."

"... pathetic."

"Exactly," Lucius turned the page, keeping his sapphire gaze on the words below. "I mentioned that I was rather fed up with the factions already and he agreed--no, he didn't. He didn't agree, he went off on some tangent about how he's some sort of anomaly," now the demigod's tone shifted from neutral to a distasteful contempt, "some sort of anomaly because he has to bear some burden because he's just a puppet on his father's strings--"

He leaned back, fists clenched as he sucked in a deep breath. The sheer thought of it boiled his blood. "It's Loki, for goodness sakes, the big idiot is chained in a cave. What do they think he's gonna do? Magically get out and do something? He can't. He's limited to what he can do. But--ugh--they went on and on about it. How they're some sort of anomaly because they're an exception and everybody else doesn't have to suffer like they do, nobody else understands what they're going through--and that they can't change it. Like they're the only one who doesn't have a choice--"

He stood up with a sharp huff. In his raged rise, white feathers drifting downward as he paced around the table. He was angry, furious, even and Milo could only sit back and watch with some anxious interest as Lucius paced in circles around the table.

"But he isn't. He's not an anomaly, he's just being manipulated by a liar who doesn't care about him at all," Lucius continued, his voice low but full of fury. "And instead of give anybody else a chance to show him that maybe he could be something more than a pawn, he gets angry with me!"

"Really?" Milo's voice was flat. "I can't imagine why--"

"Really," Lucius cut him off, "and got all sorts of huffy and puffy when he said that he wasn't the man he thought I was--no no. He showed me that in his tirade and I told him so. I told him he was a puppet and not an actual person, he showed me that full well just barely. Apologize on his own accord? No, heavens no, he had to be dragged around by that Lilian. What'd she expect in the first place? That we were just going to hold hands and sing around a campfire? This isn't Boy Scouts. This is college, this is real life," Lucius finally sat back down with a rough huff. "So I got angry and I knew I wasn't going to pay attention to the orientation--not that I'd need it in the first place--so I came here because I was going to find a way to hide these things so that I can fight better. I'd prove to him that I didn't need him--I don't need nobody sticking up for me anymore and I'd show him that it was possible to change your ways and your destiny."

Partway through the tirade, Milo had put his face in his hands, his elbows up on the table. "Why do you care?"

"Because I'm right," Lucius huffed, "and the gods are nothing more than petty children with immortality stuck up their butts."

"... oh sweet Hera, you're doing something stupid aren't you?"

"Is hiding wings stupid?" Lucius gave him a sapphire eyed glare. "If it is, then yes. If not, then no."