Best viewed in 1/2 screen, this will get longer by the way, this is only the introduction/prologue. Thank you!
Also, I rewrote the prologue so that the baby is not a baby, more so a toddler for those of you who may or may not be rereading the beginning.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Percy Jackson series!
ALSO this is BOOK-based not movie universe.
Rock-a-bye baby, on the treetop,
When the wind blows, the cradle will rock,
When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall,
And down will come baby, cradle and all.
--
Distant thunder could be heard from the window, if it was closer it would surely have shaken the house. A toddler slept on in the enormous, beautifully-furnished room. It grasped the pink blankets with small hands, dreaming of sweet songs sung by mom and adventurous stories spun by dad.
A soft, perfectly manicured hand patted the child's golden hair as it breathed shallow breaths. She could hear its heartbeat, rhythmic and delicate. Its cheeks were pink and flushed, but not unhealthily so. Thunder roared above, a reminder that she had something to come back to. It was time. He was becoming impatient for her return. Her celestial bronze dagger materialized in her palm, and she clasped her long fingers around it. She would head to battle. To win. Pressing her lips to her child's forehead, she turned and vanished in silence. The child slept on without interruption, cooing in its sleep. Dreaming still.
--
He was alone. His father had never cared for him, he was not even claimed at camp the first year. Kronos offered him the possibility of the overthrowing of the gods and goddesses. He took it, he had practically been disowned and forgotten. If his father had at least talked to him, once would have been enough, things would have been different. He did not even know who his father was. A minor god, most likely. He did not want to know.
It was unfair that things had led to this. Led to him running through the empty streets of Olympus after sneaking past the campers he had known. They had not noticed him, they were too busy. No matter, he was inside now. He could leave a mark. He just needed to sneak into one of the mansions, destroy whatever he saw, and leave. The grandest of them all was his aim. It was not long before the enormous manors became clear, they did not notice him sneak through the gates and into the house. They were much too busy fighting against Typhon. They would win.
He tore portraits from the wall, beautiful portraits of ugly people framed in gold. He slashed at them in fury, knocking over tables and vases in the process. Beautiful wallpaper and chandeliers were thrown down from their appropriate spots. He did not hesitate to burn everything in sight. It was righteous.
With his anger, he nearly missed the door with a strong presence behind it. Curiosity caught the best of him, and he did not hesitate to thunder into the room nearly tearing the dear off the hinges. And instead of what he had suspected, a strong powerful being such as Kronos, there was a little toddler sleeping in a crib.
He raised his sword, bad form yes, but it was a child that could not possibly fight back, As he swung it downwards, there was a flash of light.
"Stop!" a girl's voice called in powerful Ancient Greek. Just as the blade nearly came upon flesh, it swung out of his hand and out the window, distantly clattering across the outside ground. Shards of glass clinked on the floor and on him, an impossible reaction. He realized this was not a normal person, this was a deity. Part of the Olympians.
For a fleeting second, he felt a sharp pain all over his body, like pins were being stuck in him from every direction. And then- nothing.