Hello beautiful people. So, I've had this idea for a while now and originally wanted to make something like this for my first fic, but I decided against it for some reason and went on with Legacy. I guess it was a heat of the moment thing and I got a little excited about my idea for Legacy, but eh, can't do anything about it now :P.
I feel like while some of the things and components I intend to use in here for the plot may be overused by others as well, for the most part, I believe it will be fairly original. Not sure how long I am going to keep things in the ancient era for, but eventually I intend to reach the book stages. For those of you hoping this will be historically accurate in terms of all the battles and such, sorry, but no. I will be using areas from the time period of the Peloponnesian Wars, however, the battles I create will not be the same. There will be as many historically accurate characters as I need in the story. If I make a mistake with them, I apologize in advance.
NOTICE: This is just a prologue. It will be a short 2k words or so. My chapters after this will be 4k words or more.
Anyway, I'll stop talking now, hope you all enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or plotline moments from the PJO books. All rights go to Rick Riordan aside from my OC's and perhaps the earlier plotline.
Prologue
A man sat alone at a table in the earliest hours of the day as dawn broke through the formerly darkened sky. He stared down at all the separate pieces on the map in front of him with a hand to his chin. He'd been in this position for hours trying to think of some strategy that might be able to aid in the war of his country, but as of this moment, he was at a loss.
He glanced up as a gust of cool air rose the hair on his arms. Turning to look at the entrance to his unnecessarily large tent, he saw one of his Guards standing between the flaps that acted as the door.
"Polemarch sir." The man said with a bow. "Commander Andros is here for you."
"Ah, is it morning already then? Very well send him in." The man at the table sighed.
The guard gave another bow then turned and exited, his blood red cape fluttering in his wake as another man walked in. This one had on the same cape; however the helmet held between his hand and torso was very different, and his armour was more decorated. Not as much as that of the Polemarch's of course, but almost. His helm was golden bronze in a Corinthian fashion for the colour of the Polemarch's personal guard and was topped by a blood red plume travelling its length from back to front. His armour, also golden bronze, had white stone etchings going down the sides of its chest piece, and intricate designs made on his forearm gauntlets and greaves.
"Prince Perseus sir." The man bowed, just as the guard before had done.
"Oh please Andros, no need to be so formal. You were with Adrastus and the army of Elis for a mere moon's cycle and you've changed so much already." Perseus scoffed with a smirk on his face.
The man rose from his bow with a smile and walked forward, extending his arm, and catching Perseus' forearm in a warrior's grip. Andros was tall, dark of hair, and kept a long beard in the fashion of many Spartan men. His eyes showed the stress of many years of soldiering and wisdom, however, his face was still quite youthful as the man himself only had twenty-five years under his belt. Like Perseus and his entire personal guard, the man was a demigod. A son of Nike to be exact.
"It is good to see you again my friend!" The man exclaimed.
"Likewise my old companion." The prince of Sparta returned the smile and gripped back.
As the warrior's arms dropped down to their sides, the Prince turned and looked back at the table that had held his attention for the apparent entirety of the night. Andros walked over to his side and examined the table as well. The man let out a low whistle looking at all the army pieces sitting on the part of the map that read Sparta.
"So it seems the rumours are true, most of our forces remain in the capital!" He huffed, angered.
"Aye, it would seem my dear uncle is reluctant to send the bulk of our strength out of the homelands with the threat of another Persian invasion hidden around any corner. I blame him not, now would be the perfect time for those eastern bastards to strike. Greece is in chaos, and until we can end this pitiful Delian League by razing Athens to the ground and cutting the head off the serpent, then it will remain that way." Perseus sighed.
"I know nothing of politics brother so I am afraid I cannot comment on our standpoint with the Persian dogs, but I feel as if this is a mistake." Andros said as he looked up from the board.
The prince made no comment. Publicly he had to encourage his uncle's actions, as he was of his blood and his mother had requested it. However, in his true thoughts, he couldn't help but agree with Andros. To send only a small portion of the Spartan army at the white city of Athens and expect victory was quite the stretch, but due to the reputation Perseus had built for himself he supposed it was a compliment to his capabilities. After all, he had been handpicked to lead them.
As one of the youngest Polmarchs of the Spartan army with his current age of nineteen, the name Perseus was something of a legend in the city-state of Sparta. The fact that he was a demigod didn't hurt either, of that he was sure. His mother Sallia had been seduced by Poseidon years ago resulting in his birth. He had no claim to the throne of Sparta; as his mother was only a minor noble from some offshoot or another of the royal family, but due to his connections through blood, he was still given the title of Prince of Sparta. He had inherited the sea green eyes and tanned complexion known to many children of Poseidon, however, his mother had given him his black often unruly hair.
Perseus had won his first victory at the age of sixteen in the initial years of the war when the Athenians had made a sly move by marching straight on Corinthos, one of Sparta's strongest and most steadfast of allies. The Commander leading the Spartan relief army had fallen, and in the chaos of battle as a young officer Perseus had rallied his troops and pushed back the Athenians using his godly powers and military brilliance. He had met and slain two sons of Athena in that battle, and the Goddess of wisdom had had it out for him ever since. Just another name on the prince's godly list of enemies that grew every year with the bloody war.
"Damn Athenian greed!" Perseus exclaimed in a random outburst as he smashed his fists down on his table, scattering the pieces on the battle map everywhere. His lack of sleep was taking a toll on his mental state.
Andros could only nod in agreement. The Athenians had started this war with their greed and self-righteousness. They believed that they were the superior Greeks and that all others should rally under their banners to fight against the Persians should they ever attack again. They and their precious knowledge and democracy could rot in Tartarus for all Percy cared. Sparta followed a Hegemony and they were doing just fine with their allies. Athens would burn, and with it, maybe the arrogance of its people.
The Gods themselves were no help in the war between brothers. Many times Perseus had tried to communicate with them through his father, however the council still remained fairly neutral. Athena, of course, was on the side of Athens, and Ares had of course sided with his people and Sparta, but other than that the rest of the gods seemed content to sit back and watch their people destroy one another. Perseus had his doubts. He knew a certain King of the Gods had no love for him, believing him a "threat to Olympus". The prince inwardly chuckled at this, as though he had any ambitions to betray his Gods. His poor relationship with the lord of the skies was not his prime concern at this point in time however, so he put it aside and turned from the table.
"Get the men armed and on their feet. King Archidamus has ordered that we march for Lamia now, from there we will march for Thebai. I had decided to wait for your return before giving the order. We will descend on Athens itself with the might of Sparta and Boeotia in the North West, while the Corinthians and the rest of the Peloponnesian League assault from the south. We will surround and starve out the cowards if we have to, but by this year's end, Athens will burn brother, on my honour." Perseus said as he gathered his armour and blade. After a moment of dressing, he looked himself over in the tall glass square to the side of his tent. He had procured it off an Egyptian merchant a few years back, and it had not been cheap in the slightest, but the prince found that it helped greatly with making sure his armour was perfectly done so cost was of no great importance.
His armour was similar to that of Andros. Golden bronze with shining white etchings in some form of jewellery or another that went down the sides of the chest piece, gauntlets and greaves of the same colour with intricate designs running along their sides. His shield was of the standard hoplon fashion, however it had the red symbol of Sparta at its centre surrounded by the white stone etchings in the pattern of a laurel wreath. The texture of his helm matched that of Andros', but that was where the similarities ended. Instead of having his plume go back to front, it travelled horizontally across the top of his helm, as did that of all polemarchoi. The horsehair that made it up switched between red and black at different points in a pattern, and there was a laurel wreath design carved around the circumference of his helm to signify his rank as a prince.
"Do you not worry that what is left of Thessaly might rally and march on Lamia when we move? The Athenians could easily provide them with backing from their northern allies, and if they sent in the Ionian navy.." Andros shuddered at the thought. While the Prince may have been a son of Poseidon, even he realized his people were utterly outclassed when it came to the naval warfare aspect in their current war.
"The Ionians would not sail so far north for a target with as little value as Lamia, fear not my friend. On top of that, I believe we shattered any ambition Thessaly had when we vanquished their main force and sacked Larisa. Regardless, should Lamia fall it will be of little import, we will have the white walls of Athens while they take our minor town."
His friend nodded at this and bowed, but as he was turning to leave he stopped short and paused.
"Sir, What route do you wish to take..?" Andros said quietly.
"We take the quickest route there, on the king's order…" Perseus answered with a grim face, betraying none of the inner conflict he had in terms of the decision.
"But that means.." Andros paled.
"Aye, we shall pass by the mountain. Make sure the men know, and that they have their weapons with them at all times. I've a fair number of demigods here under my command, and we will in all likeliness attract unwanted attention."
Andros nodded to this and waited for his prince.
When ready, Perseus nodded to his reflection satisfied and turned to walk out of the tent, Andros right behind him. His guards bowed as he walked by, and as he turned left, Andros turned right. The two went their separate ways; Perseus to brood, Andros to follow his orders. The prince made his way over to a nearby hill and sat, thinking in silence. He watched as men began to run back and forth around the camp packing up and equipping themselves; though for how long he knew not as he had lost track of the time almost instantly.
Athens main force had not been seen for the past few months by any of Sparta or her allies' spies. It was a troubling thought to be sure, and it worried Perseus to no end. The Gods had yet to make a move, but regardless of their talk of ancient laws, they always interfered in mortal affairs to preserve their own interests. If they chose to aid Athens, to betray Sparta…
No. Percy thought. No, even they would not do such a thing. Sparta's cause is just, and if the Gods will not grant us victory, we shall do it alone for the glory of Greeks everywhere!
Looking around him, the prince noticed that his men were about ready to move. He rose to his feet brushing off the leather straps of his skirting and fixing the position of his blade.
Now we march, Ares guide us. He thought as he moved to join his men.
Right so, again, experimenting, and if this gets some attention, I'll focus on it more. By attention I mean follows, favourites, or preferably reviews, because while views are nice, I can't really tell if the people viewing like it or not. So, if you want me to keep going with this story, all you have to do, is simply let me know in one of those ways.
Until next time, whenever that may be here, much love and Gods guide you all, for the night is dark and full of terrors,
Chrome