Hi, and welcome to my first Percy Jackson/Magnus Chase Fanfiction
I own nothing except my characters and my story, and the experience they create.
Enjoy.
{Prologue}
It was a sunny day in Boston with the air fresh and the day bright, which I did not appreciate.
"Too much like Folkvanger, this isn't normal. I don't like it. Now where is he?" I muttered to myself. Yes, I did look crazy when I say that.
When you look too much like Kurt Cobain, and are wearing a My Little Ponies T-shirt, people tend to jump to conclusions. I guess it's the grimy, tangled dirty blond long hair that hangs at my jawline, curtained with a part down the middle that completes the look. And I'm a demigod, son of Frey the god of Summer, is that important?
Or the fact that I'm talking to my necklace, probably going to be that one.
Except my necklace is not an ordinary necklace, or a necklace at all really. It is Sumarbrander, the Sword of Summer; or for short Jack. He wants me to call him Jack the Majestic but I'm not having it. Oh yeah and he can talk, it's useful that I mention that. He's nice, other than the fact that he's destined to kill my dad on some no-bro beef but what can you do?
"Why do we have to meet this guy anyways Jack?"
"Two things Magnus, one he can actually use a non-sentient sword, which might be good for you to learn as you rely on my bad-assery to survive. Two I hear he's versed on all types of mythology; Greek, Roman, Norse, Egyptian."
"What was that last one?"
"What Norse?"
"Nevermind."
Oh yes, I forgot there were readers to my weird, horrifying personal memoire (I mean yes it is entertaining, but where's the empathy?). To catch all you lot up it had been two weeks since Gunilla's death, and the events that caused it. Which still cause me nightmares, by the way. Every time I close my eyes I see Satan's fashion consultant (Surt for you people without a sense of humour or haven't read the maiden voyage of my insane life) looming over me trying to sell me clothes.
"You need to wear charcoal grey, it will make your eyes POP! You would look so fierce!"
Nah joking I really wish it was that though, it was more along the lines of a lot of expletives and threats, hard to know if it was real or not, but knowing my life and my luck it probably was.
I was looking for a so called Percy Jackson, what kind of name is Percy by anyways? British? People from New York are so weird. My cousin, the terrifyingly amazing Annabeth Chase had organised this meeting, as she believes he is the one person I should talk to with my particular problem.
As I walked toward the 'Make Way for Ducklings' statues, which are the portals to all of the Nine Realms, so kinda important. I see this eighteenish year old boy sitting on the mother's head. That's not the weird bit though, he was whistling while tapping the mother on the head with his leaf-shaped bronze sword, without a care in the world.
Yeah that was probably him, or a mental case. Either way, should be fun.
