Author's Note : It's different here. In my Camp Half Blood, it's more serious, more real. The world of gods and monsters isn't a game. The demigods aren't as weak as the actual author wanted it to be. I made them stronger, faster, and more powerful than the demigods you are so familiar with. The monsters don't die by a slice of a sword, or a stab of a dagger, it takes time, effort. This particular story, is post The Last Olympian. I went far back.. but the story fits better.
Disclaimer : These characters, settings, and other things I adopted from the actual author, are his and I reserve the rights to him. Yes, there will be an original storyline but you need a disclaimer because.. plagiarism is a crime.
Percy's Point of View.
Demigods are able to view their dreams creation, a creation story for a different level of self conscious. In a realm owned by Hypnos. Alone. Surrounded by darkness, no realization of your surroundings. You stand there unable to move, and think. You wait. Light comes, it burns at first but then, you see them. Images being crafted. Them moving, doing what they are there to do. Sound filters through, hitting your ears. It becomes real!
In this story, I view a memory. I view my time with Prometheus. I relive the encounter. I hear his persuasive voice, telling me to surrender. Informing myself of the future with his gift of foresight. Speaking of the victory on how humanity will be affected by it. He continues, and then I turn down the creator of mankind. Then he leaves. Leaving the box, that contains hope. The box sits, time slows down. My hands reach for it, releasing the lid. The scene shifts.
I see the Hearth, without the box. It shifts again. I see hands passing the box onto a girl around my age. She looks over at me. Her black hair flowing as if there was breeze, the same thing was happening to her dress. White, it looked beautiful against her coffee colored skin. Her eyes, startling they were. Bright, with the largest hint of curiosity. The box disappears in mist. We are alone now me and her.
A doorway appears. She takes my hand, and flashes an award winning smile. She starts skipping? Running? it was graceful, like a stride but had a jump to each step. She leads me to the doorway. We pass through. On the other side, its dark, ominous. We walk together for a while, then light starts appearing faint at first but as we walk it strengthens slowly. The light at the end of the tunnel.
It becomes bright enough to see, black around us, swirling black. A tunnel. I see her, more than just her hand. We walk until the light is brightest. The end. The light was coming from the box. The box that was passed, the one Prometheus left. Her box. Radiating not just light but power.
Letting go of my hand, she walks toward the box. Kneeling in front it, she reaches out and caresses the box. She takes a look back at me and reaches for the lid. Opens it she does. Energy, dark energy swirls around the room. It suffocates me, and the girl.
My eyes open, and the dreams fades away. Although it is gone, I can still her shh-ing me. That image carries importance I can feel it. I learned to trust it. Instinct. I need to find this girl, the girl with the urn. The Keeper of Hope. The Keeper of Evil.
Author's Note, Again : If you read this, let me know your opinion on it. Faaaaanks!