This story is indeed set in an AU. The only differences are... well, you'll have to see. Most of them are in this chapter.
I decided to write a story that critiques the guardian Pertemis type stories in a way that isn't just an analytical essay. And I plan on doing it in an... interesting way. It's not that I hate guardian stories, or the Pertemis typing. In fact, they're some of the most enjoyable stories. Forbidden love and such. But now everyone and their mother is writing a Guardian fic, and some of them even parody themselves. I feel it's necessary to outline exactly why some guardian stories are great, and why most are terrible. But, I'll do it in a fun and engaging way. I hope you're ready for a hell of a ride. And, please forgive the OC. He's... necessary. It can't be Percy, because Percy needs to be Percy. It'll become clear soon enough, I promise.
Disclaimer:I don't own PJO.
Flying is an incredible feeling. It's better than riding a rollercoaster, or drifting in a sports car. It's the feeling of total, effortless freedom. And, let me tell you, flying while made of air is a hundred times better.
I should introduce myself. I am a wind spirit, with a strength comparable to the average demigod. My name is too hard to pronounce, not to mention long, so I go by Nathan. There's no particular reason. I don't have much elemental power, other than transforming into wind and propelling through the skies, but that's fairly useless in battle, as I can't carry anything with me. I say I have strength equal to a demigod only because I've had a very long time to perfect my martial arts, and am much more skilled in a duel without powers than a demigod. I'm not really all that special. Except, of course, that I'm immortal.
Or, I was immortal. I chose to make myself mortal so I could participate in the Titan war. While the two camps fought their battles, I was part of a very loose force that dealt with the increased monster attack rate throughout America. In short, instead of choosing glory, I chose to protect mortals. But, far from being an unsung hero, I think it was just cowardice. Unfortunately for me, when I became mortal, I lost my ability to fly. Very upsetting. I'm still much faster than a mortal of my build should be, but it's just not fun at all.
Naturally, I wanted to get back to Olympus as fast as possible to change back into an immortal. An immortal can willingly change into a mortal, with enough effort, but no mortal can become immortal on their own. So, when I finally realized monster attacks were slowing down, and found out from some Romans that the war was over, I found myself in California. With my running speed, around 15 mph, running for approximately 12 hours a day, it should have taken me just over two weeks to get to Olympus. Unfortunately, it took me a lot, lot longer than that.
Here, I begin my story.
I was running through the Mark Twain National Forest when it happened. The event that would forever change my life. I got knocked out cold.
"Wait, what?" you may be asking yourself. And indeed, it makes no sense. One moment, I was running through the trees, and the next, I hit an invisible barrier of some kind directly with my skull, and I was out like a light.
When I came to, I was being pushed backwards, scooting along the ground. I looked all around to see what was causing it, but found nothing. It didn't make any sense. What was going on? I realized that whatever barrier I had hit before was now pushing be back. I quickly decided that before I was squashed against a tree, I should run to where it was pushing me. And to this day, I'm not sure if I made the right decision. But then again, I doubt I could've done anything different.
I ran for three or four minutes when it happened.
I ran directly through the Huntresses' camp.
And I kept running.
For three or four more minutes, anyways. Then I hit the wall again. But this time, I didn't get knocked out. Maybe before, it had been moving backwards, and the additional speed had caused me to lose consciousness, but this time, I had no such luck, and it hurt like a son of a bitch. I started running to the right, to see if the wall ended. And I kept running. I ran for hours. But I never left the forest. I realized, somewhat unceremoniously, that I had been running in circles. Or rather, in one big circle. It was big enough to convince me that I was going straight as I ran my hand along it. I realized that I had no choice. It was them. The huntresses. I didn't know what they did, or how they did it, but for the time being, I was stuck with them. I needed information fast. I wrote the letter alpha, and the letter omega beneath it, and I ran in a circle. I don't know why, but I wanted it to seem like a race. Maybe it was so I could use my top sprinting speed, to get an accurate measurement. Incidentally, my sprinting speed was exactly 25 mph on the nose. Knowing this, and the time it had taken me to run the circle, I found that the circle was 6.3 miles in circumference, which meant that it was just over one mile in radius. I only had one mile between me and the huntresses. One mile between me, and certain death.
I didn't know what I was going to do. Do I hide myself until the barrier goes away? Who knows how long that would take. Do I announce myself to the huntresses, and hope they don't kill me on the spot? I was rather found of my privates, so that option was out for the time being. I decided I would wait a while longer, but food was a necessity I needed to secure. I only carried two longswords with me from my time in the war, so I had no hunting weapons. I had a canteen with enough water for about a day. That was my time limit. One day before I needed to appeal to the Huntresses. I was not looking forward to it.
Deciding to conserve my energy, I sat was my back against the wall, so I would know if it moved or not. I took out my trusted blades from their scabbards, and a whetstone from my pocket, and started sharpening them.
I suppose now would be an apt time to describe myself a little more. I look about 18, though naturally I'm several thousand years old. I think that if I said I was moderately good looking, I wouldn't be lying, though I don't have much confidence. My brown hair was short, and stuck up at the front, and my only distinguishing feature was my big nose. Though, it wasn't all that big. My eyes were brown, but nothing special. I was pretty ordinary. I was wearing a gray windbreaker over a red T-shirt, and comfortably loose khakis, with a modified sword belt holding them up, as well as a scabbard on either side. The scabbards were detachable, with a little work, and so I laid them in my lap while I worked on the swords.
I chose many years ago to fight with two swords, rather than a sword and shield, as the shield would slow me down, and as a wind spirit, speed was everything to me. A two handed blade was decidedly un-Greek, and fighting with a single one handed blade with nothing in the offhand was utterly foolish. No truly good fighter in history fought with a single sword and nought else, for good reason. Someone who fought like that could be easily defeated. While the sword hand blocked the blow of such a fighter, the offhand could be used freely, to lethal effect. It is simply unheard of. At any rate, I had built up something of a reputation as a duelist during the war, as many warriors not on the front lines were itching to do battle with humanoids, and I proved my skill at single combat time and time again. Of course, if it was a battle of life and death, I am sure I would lose handily to anyone with decent powers and swordsmanship, but in a duel between swordsman, I cannot think of a time I fought when I was not the victor. However, this meant little to me, as I knew that given the time I had, anyone could become as strong as I. I was nothing special, really.
As I sat there, on the ground, sharpening my longswords, also nothing special, really, I thought of how I would approach the Huntresses' camp. Eventually I decided that the best course of action was to request an audience with Artemis. This way, the huntresses might be fooled into thinking that I might be important, and my instant death might be inadvisable. It would also show that I was not an ignorant mortal who foolishly wandered in, and my being turned into a small furry creature instantly might also be avoided. If I shouted from the edge of camp with my hands raised, I might just survive. I had no foolish illusions that I could fend off the arrows of the huntresses. Perhaps I could defeat one in single combat, or even two, but any more than that and I was as good as dead.
Next, I had to plan what I would say to the huntresses when they responded. I decided I would tell them that I was a soldier in the war, and I had urgent business with Artemis. This was not, strictly speaking, a lie, and might get me into Artemis's tent. I decided I'd improvise the rest if it cam to it. As for what I'd say to Artemis, I would just tell her exactly what happened, and ask if she knew what happened to me. If I died, I would die. I had no real qualms with death. I wasn't sure I'd make it to Elysium, but I was fairly sure I'd avoid the Fields of Punishment.
All in all, I was set to enter the camp of the Hunt after I slept. And sleep I did. My head ached after being in what was essentially two low speed car crashes in one day. I had no dreams whatsoever, which was fairly odd. When I became mortal, I started to have odd dreams and premonitions, and though they were often unpleasant, I had hoped I would have one explaining the situation. I wasn't so lucky.
I awoke to an arrow in my face, and a woman's voice. I was lying flat on my back and my swords were behind the woman
"What are you doing here? Explain, now, or die!" the woman said, very unpleasantly. She herself was not unpleasant, with pleasing proportions. She seemed 17 or 18, the average age of the Huntresses.
Foolishly, I decided to continue with my plan. I was tired, having just woken up, and surprised, so I made what one would call an "error."
I sat up, rubbed my eyes, and said, "I would like to request an audience with Lady Artemis."
I was promptly shot through the leg. I cried out, in pain.
"Explain what you're doing here, or this time, I will kill you," she repeated, completely unfazed.
"I-I'm-I was a soldier for the Greeks in the war and I'm returning to Olympus!" I managed to spit out.
"Then tell me why I shouldn't kill you for running through our camp yesterday night. We've been looking for you, boy."
"Well, um, you see, I, I'm very sorry, but, um-"
"Spit it out, trash!" the woman interrupted me.
"I'm trapped here! There is an invisible barrier keeping me from leaving a mile from your camp!"
"Bullshit." she said, as she shot my other leg.
I cried out in pain a second time, and barely managed to squeak out, "I'm not lying, I swear! I'll show you!"
"Then do it," she commanded, without even a tad of sympathy.
I left the arrows in my legs so that I wouldn't bleed as much, but getting up and walking caused my muscles to tear, and soon my pants were soaked in blood. I started walking away from the girl, but soon I realized my mistake. It wasn't just over a mile to the camp's center. It must be exactly a mile from the nearest Huntress. I was screwed.
"Oh, gods. The barrier isn't a mile from camp." I fell to my knees. "It's a mile from the Huntresses."
She quickly asked, "And if I don't believe you?"
"Then leave me to die. When you go back to camp, you'll hear my screams from being dragged along the ground with these arrows in my legs. Then you'll know."
"So be it."
And with that, the beautiful Huntress left. Without a trace of remorse, she turned her back on me and went to her friends. And I couldn't blame her. She'd probably spent years in the hunt, hating men, and had probably had a terrible experience with men before she entered. I was only part of the revenge she was taking on all men.
A few minutes later, I was being dragged along the ground, screaming in agony from having the arrows moved about. Before I knew it, I was out cold.
When I came to, I was in some sort of tent, lying on a bed. When I looked down, my legs were bandaged expertly, though stained red with blood. my pants were ripped very high, as I had been shot mid-thigh. I supposed that when she had heard screaming that wouldn't stop, she brought along some other members of the hunt, and found me next to dead. I was amazed I hadn't been killed. Suddenly, the tent flapped opened, and a different woman came inside.
"How are you feeling?" she said tersely.
"Like I got shot with an arrow in each leg," I replied, equally tersely.
"Your glibness will do you no credit here. Of that, I can assure you."
As I looked at the woman more closely, I saw that she was just as pleasing to the eye as the first. I could see why the Huntresses were so famed. It seemed they were all gorgeous. I could easily believe that common filthy men would attempt to court these maidens, even when they had no chance of even surviving the encounter. Luckily, I was not a common filthy man, and said nothing of the sort that would attract attention to my noticing the woman's beauty.
"I apologize sincerely, though I expect no forgiveness."
"And forgiveness you will get none. I heard you wished an audience with Artemis. Is that still true?"
"Not at the moment. I wished only to discuss how to leave this place. I've no intent to stay any longer than I absolutely must. But, some otherworldly force prevents me from getting more than a mile away from the nearest Huntress."
"I see. Natalie believed you wished an audience with her Lady so that you could see her resplendent beauty for yourself, and this is why she shot you. But now that we have seen proof of this 'otherworldy force' you speak of, in the way of the tracks you left when it dragged you closer to the camp, we no longer believe you wished to court her Lady. But that does not mean we trust you in any way. You could still be bluffing, having set up the wall yourself, though it is my personal belief that Aphrodite set up this trap."
The way the woman talked was indicative of a much older woman. She must have been a true veteran of the hunt, several hundred years or more.
"Aphrodite?" I inquired.
"She constantly quarrels with our Lady Artemis, as they have very different views on love, as one would expect," she explained. I obviously knew this, being immortal, but I dared not say so. Though this woman was much nicer than the other, I had no wish to anger one who could easily kill me. I wondered why exactly she was here, and decided she was probably sent to check on me, and decide what to do with me. This would make her a senior member of the hunt, meaning she wouldn't hesitate to kill a male. I subtly paled.
"But, how would this affect their quarrels?" I asked, hoping to appear stupid. It worked, to some extent.
"Isn't it obvious? By forcing a male to stay with the hunt, she hopes to prove our Lady wrong by having one of us fall for him," she explained as if I were a child of three.
"...ah. Well, as soon as the barrier is gone I'll be headed straight to Olympus," I explained.
"Oh?" she simply remarked.
"Yes, I am-was- an immortal wind spirit, and I turned mortal so I would be allowed to partake in the war. I fought monsters around the country while the main forces were fighting larger battles. I was on my way to returning to Olympus to regain my immortality when this mess happened."
"Well, that is an interesting story. At the very least, I thank you for saving me the trouble of asking for it."
The way the woman talked, I wasn't certain if she was being sarcastic or not.
"At any rate, if it's alright with the hunt, I would suggest that I camp at the edge of the boundary, and avoid all contact with the hunt. Is that acceptable?" I asked, secretly hopeful that I'd be allowed to live.
"That is not for me to decide. You will get your original wish. An audience with our Lady, Artemis," she said, with a sort of maniacal laugh, though I doubt she realized how terrifying the laugh was with this news. If I didn't have to meet with the man-hating goddess, I most certainly wouldn't. the chances I'd survive the meeting were... slim, at best.
"Oh, gods preserve me."
"Ha ha ha! Not likely!" she laughed louder. "Anyways, If you're up, eat the ambrosia on the table. We'd like to get you out of here as soon as we can. And to do that, you have to meet our Lady. And she would never lower herself to meeting a man. You must meet her."
"Alright, alright." I didn't want to be rude, but she was starting to get on my nerves. I managed to reach my arm out and grab the square of ambrosia and eat it. It reminded me of my days as an immortal, and was a small comfort in this otherwise horrible situation. I instantly felt my wounds healing, but I knew I wouldn't be able to walk for the rest of the day, at least. I only hoped no more women would show up to ridicule me. It was wrong of me to think I'd get my hope though, as as soon as this woman left wordlessly, another came to take her place.
She was far more beautiful than the others, with... curves that some men might literally kill each other over, but the cruel look in her eyes made me think she was here to torture me.
"Well, boy, get on your knees and grovel," she said, smiling with a look of pure hatred shining through. "Beg me for your life, and I'll consider letting you live. I don't even know why you're still alive, but my Lady said something about information, so I guess I can't kill you. Yet. What are you waiting for!? Beg!" she spat.
I had lived a long life. Thousands of years, in fact. In those years, I had loved, and lost, fought, won, lost, and met many people I liked, and many people I did not. But never before, in my entire life, had I ever despised someone as much as I despised the girl I saw in front of me. The others had been women, so far, because I could see that they only wanted what was best for their family. They had clearly lived according to their values, and they protected the ones they loved. Yes, one had shot me, but I understood why. On a fundamental level, I respected those women. They didn't respect me, but I could not fault them for that. They spent years believing earnestly that all men are filth, and while I disagree with that, I have probably met many more men than they. But this girl that stood before me, she had no one in mind but herself. She must have known that I was in no shape to be a harm to anyone, and my death would achieve nothing, and yet she insisted that if she so wished, she would kill me, and she would be perfectly just in doing so. She had no respect for anyone. I could see it in her eyes. And I loathed her for it. I let the fire burn in my eyes. But, at the moment, in order to secure my life, I had to bow to her.
I managed to crawl out of the bed, but as soon as I put any weight on them, I knew I wouldn't be able to stand. So, I fell to the ground, and tried to turn to face the girl. I put my head to the ground, prostrating myself completely.
"Please, spare this pathetic man's life, Ma'am!" I shouted at the top of my lungs. My pride hurt beyond belief, prostrating myself before a girl I didn't respect in the least.
"You pass this test at least. Rest now, lest you be unable to answer our Lady's questions. You could still be a traitor, but at least you are a wise one."
I definitely did not expect to hear something like that. And her tone completely changed as well. It sounded infinitely more mature. Before, it must have been an act. Like she said: a test. Even so, I didn't want to die so bad that I'd look up to see her eyes and check. But what I really didn't expect was for her to pick me up and put me back on the bed. Not gently in any way, like a sack of potatoes, but carefully, like a sack of potatoes she was afraid might rip open and spill. It was... very odd.
However, at that point, I grew much too tired to pay attention to the girl-woman, except to glance at her eyes. When our eyes met, I realized what a fool I had been. Her eyes were completely genuine. Thinking back, I realized that there was something fishy about her eyes originally. Now I knew. Deciding that she really was a woman worthy of respect after all, one who valued her companions' safety and trust, I no longer concerned myself with her presence, and fell back into unconsciousness.
At some point I entered a sort of semi-conscious state, in which I heard, but couldn't really contemplate, a few different conversations.
"So it is him. From the description, I thought he sounded familiar. This is terrible. Now killing him is almost completely off the table at the moment."
"What do you mean? Is he important or something?"
"He isn't exactly, but there are some important people who might be very upset if he died."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Well, remember how he said he was a soldier? Well, him calling himself a soldier is like a windstorm calling itself a heavy gust."
"So, he was just being modest? But why?"
"Well, if he was being modest, it would be reasonable, because we're the huntresses. Arrogance could mean death around here, and he's far from stupid. But he wasn't being modest, exactly. If he's still the same as when I knew him, it's more like he's selling himself short."
"Selling himself short? What does that mean exactly?"
"Right, I keep forgetting you're not American. It means he's really under-confident. It used to be that when this guy said he could do one thing, he could really do about three times as much. But, since he's apparently made himself mortal, I don't know if that confidence problem got better, or if it got worse. Anyways, some people as high as Olympians are planning on relying on this guy now that he's mortal. He can do all kinds of stuff for them. They'd be pissed if we killed him."
"Oh. Well then. Was he a meanie?"
"He wasn't really mean, no. But I'm not sure how much he's changed. It has been over three hundred years, you know."
"So is he a good guy?"
"I don't know if a guy can ever be good, but he's certainly good as far as guys go."
"Okay. Bye bye!"
"Hey, don't tell anybody else about this okay? Some of our sisters get really upset when there are powerful guys around, because they assume they'll be horrible jerks. Let's keep everybody calm."
A different girl speaks.
"So why are you sitting around waiting for that boy to wake up?"
"I'm making sure he doesn't hurt himself while he's asleep, and we need to know when he wakes up so the elder sisters and our Lady can interrogate him."
"But why do we care?"
"You foolish girl. He is the only one who can physically interact with the barrier. We need to know more about it so we can dispel it."
"But why do we caaaaaaare?"
"We don't yet know if it was a one time trap or if it's effective still."
"But why cant we just kill all the boys who get ear the camp? Why not just kill him now and get it over with?
"Come now, think, child. Certainly there are many who think all men should be eradicated from the planet, but can you really advise cold-blooded murder upon someone who has saved countless mortal lives?"
"Huh? Countless mortal lives? What are you talking about? Him? But he let himself get shot twice! How could he be a decent fighter?"
Sigh. "I'll tell you in a minute, my shift is nearly over."
A different girl speaks.
"So why do we care about this guy again?"
"It's not that we care about him. Rather, it would be troublesome if he dies. He is important to Olympus. They think they can use him."
"Well let them, I say. He's trouble. If they want him, he must be strong. That means he must be an asshole. Let's get rid of him quickly."
"I'm with you there. Even if he is a war hero, he's still a no good man."
"War hero!? Him!?"'
"Yeah. Not one that'll ever get much glory, but still a hero in his own right."
"What do you mean?"
"According to the news we picked up after the battle of Manhattan, after Kronos was defeated, monsters near Mount Othrys went absolutely crazy, running amok through the streets of cities nearby. Apparently, a person named Nathan Grey killed every single monster in San Diego, the only city without demigods, by himself. After studying the remains, we estimate it to have been over two hundred monsters, including some nasty ones, hydras, Nemean lions, manticores, and the like."
"Well, if he did it single handedly, how do we even know he did it?"
"Because he was all over the news. The mortals thought he was some kind of vigilante who defeated an entire crime syndicate in a single day. They called him something lame, like the San Diego Savior or something. But one thing's for sure, at least. If he hadn't been there, thousands of mortals would have died, maybe tens of thousands."
"Huh. Well, he's still a filthy male. We should send him packing. But... can we even do that? If he's as strong as you say he is..."
"Don't worry. The elder sisters can take him on. Probably. And certainly our Lady could smite him with her eyes closed."
Well, I suppose I should explain. Perhaps I am somewhat stronger than I let on. I am in fact the one who saved San Diego. But that must have just been a fluke, right?
At any rate, I heard no more conversations until I woke up. And when I woke up, wouldn't you know it, but the first think I saw was the cruel woman, standing over me.
"Get up, boy. Our Lady and the elder sisters will speak to you now."
Perfect, I thought. Just what I wanted.
Yep, there's your first episode/chapter/thing. Be sure to tell me how you liked it by leaving a review.
I know that some of you may think the OC is going to be very annoying. And you'll just have to get over that, because he's staying. He's necessary. A lot of weird things are going to happen in this story, and we need Nathan to be our voice of reason. He needs to have strength slightly less than Percy's, so I gave him strength slightly less than Percy's right from the start.
If you're already thinking of Nathan's romantic options... well, I admire you, but don't you think these huntresses seem a little different from the hunters you know? He's never going to stop having a rough time of it. But that isn't to say there won't be romance. Because what is a guardian fic without it? Just give it time.