A Trip Down Memory Lane
(Axel)
Thunder rumbled and rain poured down on my head. I put up the black hood of my jacket, wishing that I had power over the weather instead of the shadows. That was, after all, the very reason I was in this mess in the first place. However, I had no time to reminisce over my problems. I had more issues to think about, like the fact that even my own quest companions didn't trust me. Not that I could blame them. I wasn't supposed to exist. I was dangerous to everyone. A freak. In a way, I supposed they were right; I was an abomination. Nothing like me had ever been created before, and nothing ever would again, now that my father's "experiment" had gone so horribly awry.
We needed to rest. We had been traveling through the deep forest for days, never stopping for fear of being attacked. Behind me, the two other half-bloods talked quietly. Though they they were out of earshot, I knew what they were talking about. Me. They still didn't even know who I really was. As far as they knew, everything I had already told them was a lie. As lightning flashed and the rain continued to pour down, I thought back to all the events that had lead to my current predicament.
Line Break
The young half-blood struggled to move his legs forward, desperately trying to drag the heavy sandbags that weighed him down towards the top of an enormous hill. Through his weary stupor, he heard his father's voice, sharper than the blade of the single-edged sword strapped to the fourteen year-old's back.
"Come on, Axel," the commanding tone bellowed from the top of the hill. "This will seem like a walk through the meadow if you fail to get yourself up this hill immediately!"
Nearly crying with exhaustion, the teenager lunged forward, clawing at the grass with his hands as his feet fought to gain a hold on the slippery hillside. As he neared the top, he managed to make out the shape of his father standing with his arms crossed. His black hair and eyes perfectly matched the scowl on his face as he watched his son slowly drag himself to the peak of the massive hill. Once Axel reached the top, a black stopwatch materialized in his father's right hand.
The large man glanced at the watch briefly and grunted. "20 seconds faster than your previous time."
"Did I do well, Father?" Axel asked, his dark purple eyes glinting with hope. "Are you pleased?"
"Of course not!" snapped Axel's father. "How can I be pleased when your time is still fifty seconds too slow? How can I be pleased when you lay at my feet like a dog, wheezing after just a few short hours of exercise? How can I be pleased when my son is a weakling like you?" He hissed the final few words, spitting them out like they had a vile taste in his mouth.
Angry flames burned away the hope and confidence that had been clear in Axel's eyes just moments ago.
"I am no weakling," he snarled, a dangerous edge in his voice.
"Then prove it," his father spat back, drawing a massive broadsword from a shadowy sheath at his side.
Shadows swirled around Axel then pulled away, revealing jet-black armor that matched his hair. From his back, he drew a long, curved sword with a single sharp edge. The sword mixed two of the more rare sacred metals, Stygian Iron and Adamantium, giving it a hypnotizing silver-and-black look. Before Axel could do anything else, his father charged forward, lashing out with his sword. Axel ducked low under the blade, rolled to the side and swept his father's feet out from under him. Before he could strike, his father melted away. On instinct, the demigod spun around and barely managed to block the massive broadsword. His father leaped out of the shadow behind him, forcing him into defensive mode. He tried to spot holes in his father's onslaught, but the older man's technique was nearly flawless. Suddenly, his blade was knocked from his hands. The disarming maneuver was followed by a heavy kick that sent Axel sprawling. As his father leapt at him to finish the fight, Axel yanked at a black wristband hanging on his left arm. A small tomahawk appeared in his hands. He blocked the incoming strike from his opponent's sword and threw himself into a backflip, kicking the sword away from the two warriors. He landed on his feet, holding the tomahawk to his adversary's neck.
"Yield, Father," he smirked. Instead of an admittance of surrender, all he received was a sneer. Suddenly, Axel sensed a shadow creeping toward him. In his split second of hesitation, his father knocked away the tomahawk and drew a large knife in one fluid motion. He slammed the hilt against his son's head, then pushed him backwards. Dazed, Axel stumbled back only to be swept off his feet by the shadow he had been distracted by earlier. The blade of his father's knife pressed against his neck.
"I yield," he growled.
"You see? You are still weak. Your hesitation cost you your victory," his father declared.
"So because I show mercy, I am penalized? How is that fair?" Axel exclaimed, astonished by his father's injustice.
"This 'mercy', as you call it, is simply an excuse for your weakness, and it will be the end of you someday," Axel's father laughed maliciously. "You are dismissed for today."
Unable to find words to express his rage, Axel stormed away. In his place, a beautiful woman with dark hair and purple eyes stepped out of the shadows.
"You should not be so hard on him, Erebus," she scolded.
Erebus laughed. "I did not think you would grow so fond of my child with a mortal woman, Nyx."
Nyx scowled at the mention of her husband's mention of Axel's birth mother. "Ever since her 'unfortunate accident', I have treated the boy as my own. That includes caring for his well-being."
"I am caring for his well-being," sneered Erebus. "By making sure he is powerful enough to overcome any children of those foolish Olympians - and any other obstacle for that matter."
"Just be careful how you tread, Husband," warned Nyx. "Push him too far and you will give yourself a powerful enemy." With that, she flashed away.
"Trust me, that boy knows nothing of power," chuckled Erebus, an evil look crossing his otherwise handsome features. "At least, not yet."
Line Break
The shouts of my two companions interrupted my little jaunt down memory lane. I looked up to see a pack of monsters pouring out of the trees, surrounding us.
"Ready, Annabeth?" asked the boy next to me.
"Ready, Percy," replied the girl. With that, she slipped on a Yankees cap and shimmered out of existence.
"No rest for the wicked, I suppose," I grumbled. I slipped my sword out of its scabbard on my back, pulled a throwing knife from my belt, and charged into the fray.