Allen1996
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Grover II
🕑 Added 2024-05-03 13:51:25 +0000 UTC
https://youtu.be/wXgWbJCbZiI?si=2RqNCDvi0kMa-OjK
The clouds covering the sky stopped the light of the sun from illuminating the city. It looked gloomed, almost straight from an apocalypse, one where no one had tried fighting. It wasn’t really a bad thing, in my opinion, the clouds hiding the sun. It meant we wouldn't be detected by Apollo.
Even then, there was beauty in it, beauty in this world that seemed to be going to its ruin. I guess even agony could be striking I thought before biting in an enchilada.
Annabeth and Chrysaor had come back with food, a triple cheese Burger for Percy, two San Francisco sandwiches for Annabeth and Enchiladas for me.
The enchiladas weren't bad for one made by mortals I thought. Sure, it lacked the feeling and comforting taste associated with nature but it was passable.
This is why I had liked Goode’s food. I don’t know if it was because of Chiron but the food had literally been on the same grade as the one made in camp barring Ambrosia.
I was still sitting on the hood of the car with Percy. We had chosen to stay there to eat. Honestly, I think it wasn’t a bad choice.
Sure, we could gone to the restaurant but I didn't trust the mist. It was the thing with the forcefield hiding the supernatural away.
At best, it helped you. At worst, it worked against you. Maybe if I had been a half-blood of Hecate or someone proficient in its manipulation like Luke, I wouldn’t be scared of any mishaps but well, I was just Grover, the satyr who fucked things most of the time and the last thing I would do would be trying to tempt the Moirai.
This time, I would do my best to ensure nothing wrong would happen. Percy, he was my friend, my best friend. I wouldn’t fail him. I would prefer dying over doing so.
The son of Poseidon was focused on the burger in his hands taking bites as if he had been starving.
I frowned. I knew Percy very well or I liked to think such. It's not that the demigod didn't have a healthy appetite for someone of his age but it hadn’t been like that at Goode or even at camp.
Well, for his defence, it's not as if he had been fighting Mythological beings before with the use of his inherited powers.
I just hoped it was that, that it was just the exertion of using his power and not anything wrong.
You never knew with demigods. This was something we, satyrs were taught, those of us trained to go into the wider world and bring demigods back to camp.
Demigods like the name said weren’t humans, at least completely. They were godlings, mortals imbued with divinity and this divinity made demigods even the weakest amongst different at every level from a mortal.
This difference didn't stop at their smell, at inherited powers or talents. Physically, the weakest demigod was way stronger than a mortal their size, their age should be.
Olympic World records? They were nothing before demigods. An untrained 8-year-old demigod of Ares could probably break them.
Musical geniuses? They would be like talentless neophytes before untrained children of Appolo who never had touched before musical instruments.
The greatest intellectuals of the world? Put them in a room with Annabeth and they would come out crying.
Engineer, they would seem like cavemen before children of Hephaestus. I could give so many other examples like that. There was a reason why there was a literal lava wall to climb for demigods.
Most demigods knew this. What they didn't know was those traits had physical traces, markers that identified demigods as other than mortal.
The different eye colours straight from a fantasy book were the least sign of difference exhibited by demigods.
The bones of Hephaestus children were different, almost with a metallic sheen. This is why it was a really bad idea for them to go through an IRM.
The brains of the children of Athena were clearly inhuman on medical scans at best. At worst, well, there was a reason why the most existed.
The children of Apollo’s skin were different. It was hard to catch it if you didn't have eyes that were good enough like most humans did but they kinda shone, almost as if they were bioluminescent.
More than that, even for demigods, they were more than what could be considered healthy. A lot of Monsters and Satyrs chose to blend into the medical world for this reason.
It made it much easier to detect half-bloods. The worst in my opinion was that in most cases, it happened because of the parents. They saw something understandably uncanny in their child and tried to learn more about it or fix it but in doing so, they made their children easier to find.
Telephones didn't spread the scent of demigods, at least not because they were phones. They did because they were Technological devices. I had forgotten most of the explanation given to us but it had to do with invisible waves or something like that.
Anyways, the thing was that demigods were different at a physical level due to their godly heritage.
This difference could be a good thing or a bad thing. Children of Hades were the perfect example. They had never been in all of history mentally stable.
I just hoped Percy’s appetite was just because he was growing up or because he had used his inherited powers instead of something that would be dangerous to him.
“No one is going to take your meal away from you Percy,” Annabeth said. The daughter of Athena was leaning on the guardrail, her hair in a ponytail, a sandwich in her hands that she had stopped eating. She was looking with disgust at the son of Poseidon as if he was the worst scum on Earth.
“Hmm?” The green-eyed boy stopped eating, traces of cheese on the corner of his lips. He swallowed the food in his mouth “Sorry. It's just that it is really good.”
“I can see that you like that,” the blonde girl said dryly. “On the corner of your mouth,” the girl pointed before taking a bite of her sandwich.
One of the boy’s hands moved to remove the stains. The problem was that his hands were covered in an unholy mix of cheese, sauce and little steak fragments.
The girl finished a meal before looking at the still-present stain. Annabeth sighed “Don’t bother.” The rubber bands holding her hair in a ponytail unveiled, raising, like a reverse waterfall, tendrils of silver moving toward the son of Poseidon.
Softly, they pressed against the stain before retreating leaving behind clean skin. I pushed back the uneasiness I felt as I watched them move.
I was happy about the gift of Annabeth. It made her stronger and gave us more chances of succeeding. It didn't change the fact that it looked creepy, that when released, her Caelum was like an alien or a monster straight from the depths of the ocean.
“Thanks, Annabeth,” the son of Poseidon told her.
“It's nothing,” she answered but the soft smirk on her face meant that she had appreciated it.
“What do you mean when you say it is really good?” An older voice said. I turned toward the owner of it. I had forgotten for a moment that Chrysaor had been there, leaning on the same guardrail as Annabeth meters away from her.
The immortal had chosen to not eat. He had instead chosen to disappear only gods know where and come back with a can of monster he was actually drinking.
The attention of the son of Medusa was focused on his brother, his eyes, eerily similar to the ones of his little brother shone with something I couldn’t put my finger on.
“I tasted the food of the mortal world before. They are rarely more than good. Passable I would say,” Chrysaor said.
“It’s just that the taste is different now.” The eyes of Percy had blurred as if he was lost in his head. “I don’t know if it makes any sense but It's as if I could taste all flavours of it and more, how it was made, how much effort had been made to create it.”
“The efforts you said.” Chrysaor took a thoughtful expression. “Interesting. Very interesting. Tell me,” he said to his younger brother. “When did you begin to taste those new flavours?”
“Since the beginning of the quest I think but I would say it is really after Miss Dodd that it became noticeable,” Percy answered.
“Let me ask you a question. Do you feel stronger than before?”
The demigod of Poseidon froze at those words “I guess I have my answer,” Chrysaor chuckled. “Father do the most foolish things.” His chuckles exploded in full laughter.
“What do you mean by that?” Annabeth snarled at the immortal. The immortal continued laughing.
The immortal pushed his hair out of his face “Do you all know how demigods are made?” the immortal said having stopped laughing but grinning.
I felt myself blush as images swept through my mind. Who didn't know? A deity found a mortal they fancied and the rest was history.
I could see a horrified look on the face of Percy. Annabeth’s face was devoid of any emotion but I knew that she was imbalanced.
“Please tell me you don’t speak of that,” the daughter of Athena said her voice devoid of all emotion.
“Look at all your faces. You really make me want to speak of the intricacies of divine coupling but I guess it'll have to wait, unfortunately.”
At my side, Percy released a deep breath as if he had just avoided a great danger.
“No, I was speaking of how you demigods are made, of why some of you are naturally stronger than others. Tell me, daughter of wisdom,” there was a mocking tone in the voice of the immortal. It was so easy to forget that Chrysaor was the son of Poseidon and Medus, the woman who had been cursed by Athena and turned into a monster “What differentiates demigods? What differentiates you from a child of the god of war and bloodshed?”
“Lineage,” the girl answered immediately. “Lineage is what differentiates us. This is why children of Aphro- the lady of doves,” she corrected herself “aren’t as strong as children of my mother or children of the big three.”
The heavens and the seas were at war. Names had power. Saying the name of a god was calling said god’s attention and the attention of an Olympian was the last thing we needed right now.
The immortal took a long sip from his can “You’re right,” Annabeth began to preen in pride “and wrong.” She reacted as if he had been slapped. Well, maybe it was the case with her being a child of Athena answering wrongly.
“The lady of dove is dangerous, more dangerous than a lot think she is,” Chrysaor spoke.
“I recognize that due to being an Olympian, she is a powerful goddess and that love can be dangerous. Troy fell because of it but except that, in comparison to other Olympians, she’s not that impressive or scary,” Annabeth told him sceptic.
“It is what Chiron taught you?” he asked the daughter of Athena. At her nod, he directed his gaze at me. I understood the silent question and nodded too. He looked at Percy who didn’t seem to recognize the silent question.
A sigh escaped from the immortal. If he was a mortal, his hair would have probably already turned white with the number of times I had seen him sign.
“Theophrastus would have wept at the ignorance of all of you especially of you,” Chrysaor looked at Annabeth “His sister.”
“Theophrastus like Philippus Aureolus Theophrastus Bombastus von Hohenheim? You knew Paracelsus?!” the blond girl said in shock and excitement. “Paracelsus like the one who tried to create the philosopher’s stone?!”
I felt my eyes widen at the name. I didn't know the entirety of the man’s name but I had heard of him. He was a well-known figure even more so in the world behind the mist.
He was a child of Athena who had almost succeeded at having and giving what the gods could only give and have, immortality.
Unfortunately, gods could be petty. Paracelsus’ actions had been seen as signs of hubris, as prideful, too prideful and dangerous.
What was known about the death of the man was that he was sent on a quest he couldn't refuse by his mother and died. He had apparently been a judge of the underworld for thirty years before retiring completely to Elysium.
He was a popular figure for the Athena’s cabin with others like Daedelus. The fact that Paracelsus had also been taught by Chiron also helped to make him more popular.
“Who?” Percy asked at my side. I could clearly see the confusion written on his face. How couldn’t he know? Oh! It hadn’t even been a month. I had forgotten that it hadn’t even been a month. Not even three weeks since he came to camp.
“Paracelsus,” I explained “A demigod, a brother of Annabeth who tried in the Seventeenth Century to create the Philosopher’s Stone, a rock capable of turning base metals into gold and either healing or giving immortality. It was said that he would have succeeded if he hadn’t died in a quest given to him by his mom.”
Wonder was written on the face of the demigod “Woah! He almost succeeded in creating A rock capable of turning things into gold and giving immortality? Demigods can do that?!” he asked me.
“A stone I corrected him and yes a son of Apollo had been able to cure death while he was a mortal.” If Asclepius’ father hadn’t loved him, he would have stayed dead and I don’t think Hades would have been kind to a mortal capable of resurrecting people from the dead” while he was still alive. Daedalus created the Labyrinth, Mr.D could make vines grow and make people mad or heal them from madness before even ascending. There is Hercules who is Hercules and there is you, Percy.”
“Me? I'm not that impress-”
“If you finish this sentence, I'll make sure Annabeth strangle you. You are strong and there is nothing wrong in recognizing that.” We turned toward the blonde girl who looked as if she literally wanted to remove all the knowledge In Chrysaor’s brain.
“What I wanted to say is that demigods can do incredible things,” I told him. They could do incredible things. Unfortunately, most of them weren’t this lucky.
“Yes, I knew Theophrastus. I wouldn’t call us friends but we knew each other very well. Back in the day, he sometimes paid me handsomely to retrieve regents he wouldn’t have been able to access by himself or otherwise. Honestly,” Chrysaor said softly, a sad smile etched on his face “We all thought he would have succeeded. He saw knowledge as primordial. He liked saying knowledge was the only true thing that was yours, that knowledge only could allow you to be free.”
“He sounded like someone incredible,” Annabeth said to the immortal. It was so easy to forget that Chrysaor was old, even older than Mr.D, that he was a true immortal, that he had lived aeons and probably met and if not, contributed to the greatest legends known today.
“This is why he would hate what you all are,” the older son of Poseidon said. There was heat in his voice, harshness that wasn’t there before.
Annabeth reeled back away from him. I pushed down my nervousness as his gaze passed over me, with eyes that were too bright. Only Percy at my side seemed unaffected.
Chrysaor’s gaze softened on him. I guess he was really on our side or at least on Percy’s side. As long as Percy was okay, I was fine with everything that could possibly happen to me.
“The lady of the doves was born from the primordial Sky and seafoam. She was worshipped in Sparta being as much if not more popular than the son of the queen and the king. she’s at least the most dangerous of the Olympians after the Children of the Titan king.
“Did you know I fought in the past against some of your siblings capable of moving the world around them just with their minds?” the divine child of Poseidon said to the blonde girl. “It was something Theophrastus was also able to do.”
I frowned and I saw Annabeth copy me. A child of Athena with Telekinesis? I had never heard anything of that sort. I heard about children of Athena creating wonders, and being great warriors, generals, leaders and intellectuals. Having gifts that expressed themselves outwards like children of the greet three? It was new.
“You’re not lying,” the daughter of the war goddess while looking at the son of Poseidon with her cold analytical gaze. “But if it's truly the case, why didn't we know this? If it's true, why did none of us in our cabin show such an ability?”
“And that's the problem,” the immortal said with a sardonic smile. “You know nothing. You are ignorant of the wider world around you and its mechanisms. You are unaware of your own nature. How could someone ignorant of everything thrive? How could someone ignorant be truly free?”
My eyes widened at the meaning behind his words, at the idea he was sharing, a truly dangerous one, one that I hoped was wrong because if it wasn’t the case, it would be too cruel.
Percy chose to speak “Are you saying that our parents, they hid all of this on purpose so that we could depend on them?! That’s crazy Chrysaor! It's not as if they had to fear us. We are their children and more than that, they're gods and we are demigods.”
“Is it true though?” Annabeth said. We all turned to look at the daughter of wisdom. She looked at Percy, their eyes losing into each other “You fought against a kindly one, Percy. You fought and won.”
“It doesn’t mean anything Annabeth,” the boy retorted. “She was paying with us, with me until the end. If since the beginning, she has taken her true form? I would have lost.”
“Do you think anyone else will see it like that, Percy? You, a boy not older than twelve fought against a being who is thought to either have been born from the blood of a primordial entering in contact with the sea or from the Night herself, a being who had been alive for thousands of years, who had been feared for all of those years, one of the second of your uncle. They will see a demigod and let me repeat myself not older than twelve capable of doing such. If we’re lucky, we will survive this war. How much stronger will you be? Would you at sixteen be able to raze Olympus if you desired to do so?”
I looked at my friend with the burger still in his hands, one that had probably gone cold. I looked at my friend, the child of a broken oath and most likely the child of the great prophecy.
A part of me was sure that even if Zeus’ master bolt hadn't been stolen, a reason would have been found to demand Percy’s execution and I could see in the dawning mix of horror and sadness on his face that he was also realizing it. Percy was a threat.
“Even if you're an exception, an anomaly like Hercules has been, it doesn’t change the fact that maybe if demigods knew more like your brother was implying, we could if not be threats possible thorns on Olympus’ side.”
“Was it my mother who created such a plan?” the girl asked the immortal son of Poseidon.
He lifted an eyebrow “What do you think such?” the immortal asked back which probably was a confirmation.
“Because this is what I would have done,” the girl said with uneasiness, cradling one harm with another in what was clearly a sign of comfort “Strategy is usually the art of planning and directing overall military operations and movements in a war or battle. The best strategists though are those capable of making sure there would be no battle and if there was one, that the other side could never have a chance of winning.”
“I don’t know,” the immortal said to our shock.
“What?” Annabeth said, surprise blooming on her face.
“Most of the time, I was on the ocean. Most of what I know comes from what customers like your brother, temporary recruits and marine creatures informed me of.” With that said, the immortal took another drink from his can.
“It is probably your mother but even though I hate doing so, I have to play the Chthonic advocate. It may not be her. I still think she is a cunt but children and parents shouldn’t be hating each other if possible.”
“Anyway,” the deity spoke, “I said you were right and wrong because the might of a demigod comes from two sources. What they inherited and what they knew about what they inherited.”
“To be frank,” he continued “it's kinda the same thing with immortal but it is another topic.”
“You are ridiculously strong because Father loves you, little brother,” he said while pointing at his younger brother. “You are probably his favourite demigod child if not his favourite child ever.” There were no accusations, no admonitions, no envy in his voice. He was simply stating a fact.
Percy was smiling widely. I had rarely seen him doing so in the past with him being his sarcastic or door self most of the time. I had only seen him smile like that in the past when he spoke of his mom, of the food she made, of how much he loved her, of how much he loved being in her presence.
Percy was the perfect definition of a momma’s boy without all the weird toxic stuff. It seemed it was also the case with his father and I could understand why. How many gods had done so much for their half-blood child? None?! Most of the time, when gods did such terrible things, it was for a divine child, their divine favourite child.
I really hoped Poseidon did this because he loved his son and not because he had schemes he needed Percy to realize. I was sure that learning the love of Poseidon was false after all of this would break Percy. After all, if all of this was fake? What love could be real?
“Demigods inherit from their parents. Most of the time, it is something natural. The demigod is born with an average if not weak expression of one or multiple of their divine parent’s domains.”
“Even then,” Chrysaor continued, “I am sure that if Chiron had taught such demigod well, they would be able to use their powers in a way I'm sure none of you can fathom.”
Chrysaor’s mouth rose to one side In a half smile “You want to know something Daughter of the war goddess? Maybe one of your siblings, Maybe you have the same ability as Theophrastus but are unable to use it because you simply don’t know how.”
I really hope it wasn’t the case because it would be meant if true that hundreds of demigods had died against monsters when they didn't have to simply because they didn't know how to use their divine inheritance. It would be too cruel.
“That is what happened with most demigods but with some, well their parents care and in this care lays all the difference. You have seen what I could do.”
I remembered how demented, how foolish, how glorious Chrysaor’s actions had been. It has been a scene straight out of a myth. Chrysaor, the golden was an appropriate name.
“I am I have to recognize far from being the strongest immortal. What I have done is nothing before what a strong Olympian would have been able. The myths weren’t exaggerating when they spoke of gods uprooting mountains with their bare strength. You are demigods. Even if not as strong as your parents, you should be able to do feats at least half as impressive but it isn’t the case for most of you. Gods could turn this city behind us in a wasteland in less than the blink of an eye yet no average demigod would be able to do the tenth of it. It isn’t adding up, don’t you think?”
“You are right, there is something wrong.” The girl was frowning “We are demigods, half gods,” Annabeth said. “We should have been even not as powerful as our parents still powerful, not so mortal.”
“You understand. What you said was almost completely true. Tell me, Satyr,” the deity was now looking at me and I pushed down the urge to flee under the gaze of the immortal. It was instinctual. Most beings who had the attention of gods on them like this didn't have nice ends “What did they teach you about demigods?”
I searched for my memories of the teachings given to me by the older satyrs. Something tells me being friends with his little brother wouldn't save me if I lied.
“A demigod is the descendant of a god, superior to mortals around them because of their divine inheritance. They are neither men nor gods.”
The deity smiled “Good,” he said like a teacher who had one of his students answer perfectly “I said you were wrong, daughter of wisdom because even though demigod may mean half god, it can also mean partial god, someone, not even half but with enough divinity that they are clearly not humans.”
“Are you implying that most of us in camp half-blood aren’t half-gods but partial gods instead?” she asked the son of Medusa.
“Yes,” he answered. “The reason I suspect why my little brother is so different is because he's a true demigod or something close to it instead of a partial one like the rest of all of you. He's stronger because Our father loves him, loved his mother.”
“Our parents don’t care is what you mean,” Annabeth said in realization. “Our parents don’t care and this is why we are so weak. Our parents don’t care and it's why we are ignorant. Our parents don’t care and it's why we are seen as lesser and hunted.”
I could sense an undercurrent of anger in the voice of the girl. It seemed she wasn’t anymore able to hide what she was feeling “Luke was right. Luke was fucking right,” she swore hatred and anger so raw in her voice that it made me flinch away from her.
“Maybe Chrysaor is wrong on some things Annabeth. He said it himself, he was mostly on the ocean. I'm sure that maybe they care a little. Your mother gave you a cap, right?” Percy told her. I knew he was trying to calm her, diffuse the situation in some way but oh boy, he had done so really badly. I could already hear Annabeth’s words before she even said them.
“She gave an invisibility hat to her homeless daughter when with one flick of her fingers, she could have changed everything, Percy! Do you know what it's like being all alone in the streets? Fighting literal rats to eat? Sleeping in alleys, on the uncomfortable ground, scared? I was homeless while my Mom is an Olympian, while she could have helped.”
She turned to look at the youngest child of Poseidon. There were unshed tears in her eyes. The boy avoided her gaze “I'm sorry Annabeth.”
A broken laugh escaped from her mouth “Sorry for what, Percy? Being loved by your parents? You did nothing wrong. I am the one who was stupid enough to not see the whole picture all this time. I'm sure a lot of other half-bloods did and they weren’t children of the goddess of wisdom.”
“I just wished my parents had at least the tenth of the care and love yours have for you,” she said more softly.
She turned toward Chrysaor “Everything you just told me. I'll share it with the other demigods. I'm sure they are as affected as mortals with the camp being on Long Island and having a lot of bodies of water.”
“Do what you think is best, Daughter of the war goddess. I’ll be the last to stop you but you know at least what you risk right?” Chrysaor warned her. “Olympus won’t like it. I'm an immortal so I could deal with possible retaliations. You're still a mortal and your camp is overseen by an Olympian. You'll be seen as a traitor and Olympians can be particularly cruel to those they see as betrayers.”
“I already am a traitor. I chose Percy. I chose his side. My mother probably already disavowed me. Even without that fact, it doesn’t matter what could happen. Knowledge should never be restricted and in the case they come at me,” The Caelum made itself known flowing out of her skin and covering it in a metallic sheen “I'm not as helpless as I was before. I won’t let myself be broken so easily.”
The god continued looking into the eyes of the daughter of Athena, searching for something only he knew. The deity smiled “Maybe you're not as intolerable as I thought.”
An orb of water materialized in the air before him, expanding slowly but surely until it was the size of a bathroom mirror. The deity put two fingers in it, the digits seemingly disappearing in the water mirror before removing them from it, a small notebook between them.
The older son of Poseidon threw it at the girl who caught it “This is for you. Theophrastus knew there were chances of him not coming back from the quest given by his mother so he gave me one of the copies of his notes to safeguard, until the next life, he had said even though the bastard had chosen to settle in Elysium instead of reincarnating.”
The girl pressed it against her chest as if her most treasured possession “Thank you Chrysaor,” she said to the deity. For once, her words weren’t flat or angry or carriers of negative emotions toward the son of Poseidon. I could feel it. The girl was genuinely grateful.
Of course, Percy would choose to speak up and break the first and only moment where his brother and his blonde companion weren’t at each other throats.
“Most of the gods suck. I got this part but what I still don’t understand is the rapport between what you just said and this burger tasting so good,” the demigod son of Poseidon said before taking a huge bite of the burger.
He didn't seem to care that it was colder and probably less tasty now “There is a rapport, little brother. Tell me, How are gods honoured?”
His little brother took a final bite of the burger, appearing to be thinking of the question at the same time that he was consuming the last piece of his meal.
“Can I have the wraps, Percy?” I asked him. Wordlessly, he gave them to me. I thanked him with a nod before throwing them in my mouth.
Humans by their overexploitation of the world and their lack of respect for nature polluted everything. I wouldn't be surprised if throwing this in a bin would have resulted in it being thrown with a whole lot of other toxic garbage in natural hotspots.
By eating plastics and paper, I killed two harpies with one spear. I ensured that the environment wouldn’t be affected negatively and at the same time, ate a nice snack.
“Through sacrifices?” the boy said half guessing.
“Yes Percy, through sacrifices. Good job,” The deity said with a satisfied smile. His little brother put one hand on the back, his smile betraying the happiness he could feel even though he appeared aloof.
“Sacrifices are more than burning things for higher beings. A sacrifice is called such because it is something important given. After all, it is someone's hope, efforts, sorrows, anger and love being given.”
“The world had probably stopped making sense for most mortals,” the deity continued yet some of them are still working, going forward with their old lives. The efforts, the labour, the hard work, the sacrifice made by the person who prepared your meal are probably why things now taste different for you.
“But I am a demigod? Not a god, Chrysaor.”
“It may be true brother but remember demigods, true half-gods like probably you are both gods and mortals. Gods can consume and grow stronger from sacrifice. I know this personally. Why, you a half god would be different?”
The boy frowned “I don’t think I like that, consuming sacrifices, I mean, if you're truly right, Chrysaor.”
“There is nothing wrong with doing so Percy. It's as if you were taking it by force or hurting someone doing so. You eating that Burger changed nothing, I promise,” the son of Medusa said locking his gaze with the one of his brother.
“I believe you Chrysaor.”
“Good,” he answered, his smile widening for a fraction. “I think it's time to go back on the road. We have to save your mom and staying in one place for too long isn’t a good idea.
I swallowed the paper wraps and hopped off the hood of the car. Percy copied me. He moved to open one of the front doors when my instincts screamed at me that something was wrong, that my friend was in danger.
I moved without thinking, the guitar appearing in my hands. Shit, I wouldn’t have time to play any melody I realized. I could see a red blur rush toward me too fast for my eyes to follow.
It was fine. I didn't need to follow. I just needed to calculate the trajectory of the blur. I grabbed the tail of the guitar as if it were a bat. I really hoped it would be durable enough but even if it wasn’t, I hoped it would slow down the blur enough for me to protect Percy from it with my body or make him able to dodge. I didn't care what could happen to me. Percy, my friend, I needed to protect him.
With all the strength I could muster, I swung hoping it would be enough, that I wouldn’t fail again. I knew that if the projectile missed the guitar, if I didn't swing fast enough, no matter what I tried doing, Percy would be hurt at best.
Something gold shone on the corner of my eye as the familiar sword of Chrysaor met the red blur.
The older brother of Percy was in front of me in less time than a blink, his sword in a two-handed grip. A ripple came rushing from the point of contact between the blur and his sword.
I felt myself lose my footing on the ground, sent flying. I could see the guardrail under me or what remained of it. It had been violently bent and uprooted.
I was falling I realized, from a height I knew I wouldn’t be able to survive. I tried playing a tune to save myself by making plants grow and catch me but I had lost my grip on the guitar when I had been thrown away.
‘Was this how it was going to end? In such a pathetic way? Because of a fall?’ I wondered. I really hoped the others would be able to deal with whatever that was. I also hoped I would reincarnate as a nice flower. I was brought back out of my mind by a grip on my wrist.
My eyes widened as I realized that it was Percy’s hand that had closed around my wrist. I wanted to shoot at him why he had done that. The idiot, he had jumped after me, probably without a plan! I could accept myself being hurt for my weakness but someone else? No, I couldn’t.
It was at that thought that fortunately, white tendrils, the Caelum of Annabeth I realized enrolled themselves around Percy’s waist before yanking him back with me following.
We ended back at Annabeth’s side, her Caelum acting as a caution for our fall. I turned toward her to see that she had done the same thing she had done to save my life with Percy before anchoring herself to a piece of the ground that hadn’t been destroyed through drills.
I heard a shout of exertion coming from Chrysaor who with an ascending strike sent the projectile flying in the clouds above.
The projectile shone like a rising red comet before exploding with what seemed to be the force of a nuclear bomb tearing the sky and the buildings around us, buildings probably full of mortals.
Only our spot hadn't been completely destroyed and I was sure it was only because of Chrysaor.
I heard claps and steps. I looked toward where they came “Bravo, Bravo,” said the mocking voice of a man, a voice that angered me just by hearing it.
Finally, the owner of the voice became visible. Red malevolent eyes shone from his skulls, images of slaughter, of men being flayed, beheaded, dismembered, drowned, feasted on by vultures, images of oceans of blood.
A strong masculine and symmetrical face, clothes you would expect to be worn by a biker gang leader. He had the perfection all gods seemed to have but different as if warped intentionally to create something disturbing. More than that, he smelled like blood, blood and grime the same way his children did but so much stronger.
“I had wanted to meet the two of you,” the god said with a smile, full of red bloody canines that seemed to be dripping blood droplets “Chrysaor and Perseus Jackson,” Ares said, “My two favourite cousins, my two targets.”
Comments
Antonio Adams
This was great. Love the new chapter
