In the beginning, there was everything.
This is a fact quite surprising to most who hear it.
Contrary to popular rumor, science, religion, and bar-gossip, the universe as it is did not in fact start with a big bang. That would be ridiculous. It started with what is called a Gnab Gib, pronounced guh-nab gihb. As while Big Bang implies very little quite suddenly becoming way way too much, the Gnab Gib was a decent amount of wasted space turning quite uncomfortable into two smaller entities of not quite as wasted space.
They were called Chaos and Order, and here is where popular belief is once again put to the test and proven unfortunately wrong.
Most beings identify Chaos and Order as a sort of good and evil, but that is not the case. In fact, neither was good, yet neither was evil. It's a difficult concept for one to fully wrap their head around after hearing and reading numerous stories that quite strongly insist the opposite.
Yes there was a pointless war between the two siblings whose parentage is best left untouched. There were however no soldiers, no war zones, and no unbelievably advanced technologies that wouldn't be invented for another trillion years or so. It was unbridled energy versus overly bridled energy. And in the end, neither side really won, so they both sort of went about their business. If they lived near to each other, and went to the same earthly coffeehouse, they would have tipped their hats and politely gestured their hands to one and other on a daily basis.
Sort of - no - exactly like when two people have a big stupid row and when it's all over they stand in the middle of the piles of smashed furniture and broken dreams grinning sheepishly at each other and scratching the back of their heads.
Anyway, any who, years and years and years and years (and then even more years if you want to be exact) passed on. And eventually in, a distant spiral arm of the Milky Way galaxy (Part of Chaos's turf by the way, who would have guessed) a small insignificant rock collided with another even smaller rock and after many complex and boring chemical equations and laws of physics, formed a slightly larger insignificant rock which some genius eventually named the Earth.
And as a man named Douglas Adams would eventually say, "what a dull name".
Around this time, new beings began to come into existence. Gaea, the embodiment of the earth was the most prominent. Followed by her brothers Tartarus and Erebus and her sister Nyx and that other sibling whose name no one can care to remember.
More years passed, though this time not nearly as many. And in those years, war and unrest spawned two new eras. First there were the Primordials, lazy greedy and vicious bunch of bastards they were. They didn't really end up doing much, destroying and creating parts of the world like it was going out of style. They lasted a fairly long time, but eventually fell to the next group. The Titans.
While better than their forebears, the Titans were by no means perfect. The mortals flourished happily under them at least. Or perhaps they were just very good at lying in their accounts, but it's better to assume the most likely of the two. With their own family however they were a mess. Siblings quarreled and then had lots and lots of unprecedented sex, and one bastard took a scythe and cut his father into so many pieces that he could have easily given a portion of him to every single immortal on the planet.
That bastard was Kronos. The youngest son of Gaea and Ouranos. And the one who married his own sister, Rhea. One cannot feel more any for any of the titans but her. She however did her best to please her husband and maintain her sanity, and for the most part she succeeded.
Until Kronos received a rather worrying prophecy.
Quite simply the prophecy stated that eventually one of the Titan King's children would overthrow him, and do to him what he did to his father. Kronos, in an act of fear, panic, desperation, and all other synonyms one can use for those three words, proceeded to eat each child that he and Rhea had and would end up having.
Sort of like a big uncut cantaloupe, really. He would take the child, open up his mouth, and 'plop' in they would go. And then presumably he would go and drink a large class of crystallized alcohol to wash it down. As well as to unintentionally get his children very very drunk.
Eventually though, Rhea got fed up to put it lightly. She decided that when she had her next child, be it boy or girl, she would trick her husband Kronos and hid that boy or girl away from their father. So when the child was born, she wrapped a medium sized rock up in blankets and pretended to cradle it in her arms. And when Kronos came in, he snatched the rock and plopped it down his throat like all it's honorary siblings.
Somehow, the rock didn't strike him as odd compared to his normal meal of intestines, brain, and lots and lots of self entitlement. This is presumably due to three things. His habit of swallowing without chewing, massive and almost un-titanly sums of alcohol, and the simple fact that Kronos just wasn't very self aware.
Meanwhile, the youngest son of Kronos and Rhea was long gone. Whisked off down the mountain on which they lived to be raised by some sheep. And his eldest son long gone as well. Sitting in a comfortable room writing upon this exact piece of paper….
Wait...
...
The man stopped writing. Picking up the papyrus he held it up in the candlelight. The flickering illuminations danced a soft dance across the rough material. His right forefinger tracing the words in a habit long since acquired from an old scribe he met traveling on an old gravel road. Then he smiled quickly to himself and proceeded to roll up the paper and tuck it in a knapsack sat leaning up against the desk.
He wished to keep writing, but after all, you can only write about history up until the present.
Standing, he brought the bag up with him. He took a step back and slid the chair under the old table. Then he leaned across the desk, blew out the candle, and placed it in his bag. Then he turned and walked from the room. He had purchased the bed and surrounding area for the night, but his ownership of them ended at sun's first light. He may have not been able to see it, but he knew it was time.
The stairs emitted a hollow sound as his boots struck them with each step. It was a single flight down to the main room. Which was styled in the barest of ways. With some tables and shelves with bottles of wine on them.
Few people were awake at this time, and those who were tended to be the ones keeping careful watch on either the door or the men passed out on the floor. It wasn't a particularly nice place. But it was roadside tavern in Greece. The man wasn't expecting a Persian Palace.
"My Lord." A man, elderly for his profession sat in a chair by the shelves. He wasn't the kind of man to bother about dress sense and rather confused with the lavishly yet practically clothed young man who entered the night before and calmly asked for the nicest room he had. Not waiting for the man's protests that it really wasn't all that nice.
"Since when was I a lord, Theodotus?" The man asked. His voice smooth with a calm mixture of chest and nasal resonance. Pulling a single gold drachma from his coin purse and tossing it with a finger to the man. "Did I kill someone important in the past night, and in some manner of strange events inherit their estate?"
"No, my lord. I mean- ." Theodotus stuttered. The man raised his eyebrow and grinned. He withdrew another Drachma.
"Might I suggest something, Theodotus." The coin dropped next to its brother, spinning a moment before halting.
"Of course, my lor- uh-"
The man raised up a gloved hand, silencing him. "Try rewriting your novel, but this time include less of Tratedes. He's a tad overbearing."
And with that the man turned and left, leaving the old man and the awakening patrons to wonder as to the purpose of his departing comment.
The building had no actual door, so the man simply walked out and stepped off the the side, careful not to obstruct any traffic (Of which there was none) on the road directly outside the tavern.
He stood still a moment, listening to the sounds of nature, watching as the sun slowly crept over the distant horizon. Bathing the Greek countryside in a golden haze. He bounced a moment on the balls of his feet, feeling the earth beneath them. Then he turned, sliding his feet across the grass and gravel.
As he was walking, he wondered if his Father had found out where he was. He would be worried, but years on the road with the possibility of recapture on his mind had strengthened his resolve.
There was no actually tell tale sign as t the possibility that his Father had discovered where he had been the past few days. However the thought was not unusual as it would often return to his mind. The possibility of being killed or somehow eaten alive tends to make that happen.
But all he knew for certain is that his Mother didn't know. She would have already somehow found a way to see him, being as she was.
However his father still worried him. His father he didn't want to see. He wanted to see his father even less than he wanted to see his ancestor Tartarus. And that was a considerable amount of negative emotion to put towards one thing. But there was a good reason.
Seeing him he would either be in a box, or a head in a smaller box, and neither was an outcome he wanted to have happen.
He walked in mental silence for a few moments. Then he changed his mind. Actually it wouldn't be as bad as if he was delivered in the form of a head. It would give the mortals a tale to tell. The Titan king dining on the head of his eldest son.
He changed his mind again. That was actually, in fact, quite repulsive. If he was to be dined upon, he would have it be by sharks, tigers, or by some strange mix of shark and tiger.
Maybe his baby brother would grow up and the sheep and sheep herders would somehow train him. Then he would travel to his father's palace and kill him first. That was a possibility...
He walked more. Then he sighed
...Albeit a microscopically small one.
He stopped. He now stood on top of a hill. Looking behind him he could, after a few moments focus, pick out the roadhouse in the middle of the plains. In front of hims in the distance was a medium sized city. Several roads lead into it, each presumably the pathways for traders and travelers alike to enter and leave at will.
The sun had risen further and was further elevated in his point of view by his current elevation, he now had to squint his eyes slightly to look to the east. The wind blew in his face and bellowed out his hair. It gave him a sensation of freedom.
Freedom… Huh. Maybe…
And with that final thought, the eldest son of the titan King Kronos, Perseus, god of humanity and time with his domains delivered to him personally by the fates, grinned into the wind and swung one foot in front of the other and set off towards the city. Thinking of fresh food, decent beds, and good old alcohol.
Which in his own opinion, were the three greatest inventions the any world had ever conceived.
AN:
I'm supposed to do these in bold right? Alright cool.
As any reader of my rather lacking profile will be able to see, this is my first story. First for Percy Jackson and first overall. As far as I know this concept of Percy being a primordial or a titan has been done a fair amount, but don't worry I plan to go somewhere rather long and different with this. Making a few sequels eventually and maybe a side story or two. That is if I can maintain the creativity. All reviews are welcome, praise my work or tear me a new one, I don't care. All I want is honest feedback. I may end up doing those review responses in the beginning of chapters that people tend to do, but we'll see. It may be a ways before I have a solid uploading schedule and even then it may be broken, my life schedule is considerably strange. But I'll do my best to work on this when I have time.
Also yes, I often type too quickly and forget to check for errors. I'll try to go back over and fix them when I can.
Until the next chapter, this is Hemlock Stones signing off.