AN: Help me come up with a better title. PLEASE!!!
DISCLAIMER: If I was Rick Riordan, would I have any reason to be here?
Any Other Way
I felt my sword permeate his clothes. He gasped as Backbiter tore through his flesh and punctured his heart. I twisted the hilt and pulled out my blade as he collapsed to the ground. All my life, I had planned this one moment, all for these two seconds. The lifeblood of the most powerful half-blood in the Western Hemisphere trickled through my toes.
I had done it. For my mother, for my father, for all the demigods who had fallen under his tyrannical reign. All my hate, all my insecurities had evaporated as I plunged my blade into his sweet spot, the only spot that would kill him. He had murdered my father because he would get in the way of his ultimate domination of the West. My mother had died for the same reason. What was the worst was that he made me witness both of their deaths.
I was nineteen when I accomplished my final quest. As I made my way through the crowded streets of New York to the Empire State building, I could not help but feel insecure. Could I do this? What if I die? I said, "If I die, than I die for what I know is right." Several tourists looked at me, but I ignored them.
I stole the key and made my way up to the 600th floor. I let my anger well up and fuel my adrenaline. I would need everything I had for this final mission.
As the usual chime signaled that I had arrived and the door opened, I found that there was no way to resist the charm of Olympus. I wanted to dance with the nymphs and eat ambrosia on a stick, but I refuted myself and kept walking towards the hall of the gods. I relaxed so I would not draw attention to myself. I eventually came to the right building and walked in, not drawing much attention. I slowly made my way to the giant throne room of the gods, where I would no doubt find him.
Sure enough, he stood there, entertaining the gods. I called him out. "Hey, you."
He spun around. My eyes met a brilliant sea as I made my gaze meet his. "Ah, Selena, so good to see you. How are your parents?" I lost it right that moment as I charged at him, sword in hand. He easily stopped me. "Leave, if you will." The gods shuffled out nervously, knowing that a big storm was approaching.
"You," I spat.
"What, No hi or hello." I remained stoic. "I guess not," he sighed. "Why are you here?"
"You said it yourself, traitor. When you are strong enough, I challenge you to beat me. I'm here: are you gonna fight me?"
"If I must." Then he charged. I deflected his blade. He had been living comfortably too long, so he was out of shape. Unfortunately, he was always very talented, so my blows were all in vain.
"Why must you be such a burden on society?" he yawned as he slashed my right cheek. The pain was intense. I nearly cried out. Instead, I bore them as a sign of respect to my father. My blood blended in with my hair.
"You claim to be what is best for the world. You said that life would be better. You never left my father alone, even though he called off the war. You destroy anyone who does not follow your 'perfect rules.' I know that I am on your hit list, that you are going to kill me because I am the tabooed descendant of a demigod and the Oracle. Well, I have news for you: You are just as bad as Kronos."
That stopped him cold. I took that chance to claim his life. Now we are back at the beginning. After I let the play of events rush through my mind, I reflected on my reasons for getting back at this evil demigod.
Even though my dad surrendered to him and did not start the war, he dispatched anyone involved in the revolt.
He killed my mother and father
I am high on his hit list because I was born of the sacred Oracle
The rebellion was only trying to restore peace
He had once been close friends with my mother, and had murdered her in cold blood.
He believed that the demigods were only born of the Twelve and Hades. Children born of two demigod parents or of a minor god did not count and were not allowed into Camp Half-Blood
When he discovered that CHB was harboring not-quite half-bloods, he burned it to the ground.
He had discovered a way to permanently kill monsters, and had made it a national decree to start destroying monsters with holy objects
He played up to the gods, and eventually became more powerful than them without their realization.
So maybe my intentions were self-serving. Well, so were his. Maybe I was on the wrong side of the rebellion, like Anakin Skywalker. All I knew was that the world was in the wrong position to make judgment. They believed that Percy Jackson was their savior, their Messiah. I do not care anymore. I had avenged my family, and all the fallen demigods who succumbed to his wrath. In the end, his power consumed his brain, and he became just as bad as the Titans. Nobody would believe me though. I would just go down in history as the vilest half-blood of all time.
Like father, like daughter. I would finally be with my father. We would be in the same page of Greek Mythology textbooks for demigods as the father-daughter duo bent on ending the world. Luke Castellan and Selena Castellan would live through the generations as figures of hate and violence. My mother would be the ultimate representation of adultery. She courted Percy Jackson, and then left him to become the Oracle. She soon became horribly hateful and left him to be with his worst enemy during the war. I could not let my mother go down in history as an evil woman. I would not suicide now and leave our reputations in ruins. I put down Backbiter and began writing into a small notebook.
My name is Selena Castellan, daughter of Luke Castellan and Rachel Elizabeth Dare. I, being of sound mind and body, leave a last testament of my life.
I was born in Baltimore, Maryland. There my mother raised me, for Perseus Jackson, the supposed hero of contemporary mythology, had captured my father. When I was two years old, a knock on my door introduced me to my father. He had been reduced to a prisoner of war by Perseus Jackson and had him slaughtered before my eyes when I claimed, "Daddy, do not be afraid. Your death only proves that he is too weak to kill you in battle at your peak." I had made a weak attempt to kill Percy Jackson right that moment, but I inevitably failed.
My mother was left to rebuild our lives. She was the former Oracle of Camp Half-Blood. She, too, was killed before my eyes by the same evil perpetrator. I had taken that memory and rebooted my life by cutting my hair and making my way to the remains of Camp Half-Blood. There I trained with other not-quites, a term for a child born of two demigods, a minor god and a mortal, or two parents of different species. When I deemed myself ready, I went on a quest to end the tyrannical rule of Percy Jackson. I succeeded despite his precautions, such as bearing the curse of Achilles.
His death meant that the oppression of not-quites was over. No longer would a demigod have to hunt down members of the former Kronos side. Monsters would no longer die under the burn of Christian items such as holy water and crucifixes. His own son would no longer be rejected by him or by anyone. The gods would no longer believe the weave of untruths support his cruel actions.
He ultimately replaced Zeus without the realization of the gods. The numbers of half-bloods dwindled when he commanded that the gods no longer mate with mortals. The gods were symbols of power. Without any action of the old times, and since they could no longer roam the earth freely, they had grown soft and weak. Perseus Jackson realized that and used this advantage to surmount the West without the knowledge of the mortals.
Despite all this, I will not let anyone's name die a shameful death. Both my father and Percy Jackson had been blinded by their greed and their craving for power, but they believed they were doing the right thing. My father had realized his wrongdoings and had changed his behavior. Percy would not accept this and in the end, it caused his downfall. My mother broke her sacred vow of celibacy as the Oracle for she knew that Percy was on the wrong path. She bore me, knowing that I would be able to end his chaos. Percy Jackson was a respectable figure. He was kind, caring, and courageous. His giving in to temptation, believing that what he was doing was right, caused his untimely end.
I leave this last testament as a tribute to my father, to my mother, and to Percy Jackson. Since I am the only witness, I must recount the story truthfully, which I have done. My civil duty is over.
I put down the pen and departed from Olympus, leaving the notebook behind.
Epilogue
When the news of Percy Jackson's death hit the web, the notebook story was one of the main pieces of evidence. Along with that was a sword identified later as Backbiter and a lock of red hair identified to belong to a nineteen year old girl assumed to be Selena Castellan. Slowly, the story of Percy Jackson was changed to the version left by Selena Castellan. Several attempts have been made to track her down, all with little headway. The name Percy Jackson died in shame, despite Selena's tribute to his shining characteristics.
One day, while exploring the woods of the newly rebuilt CHB, two not-quites discovered the body of Selena Castellan, approximately around the age of 29. The monsters of the forest were carefully guarding it. Professionals speculate that since she had freed their oppression and had revoked the hunting of them with holy items with her account at the crime scene. A celestial bronze weapon was used to kill her, perhaps by some anti-Castellan zealot. Main suspects include Ayden Thomas Jackson, son of Percy and Annabeth Jackson.
AN: I got bored on the day I was supposed to go to the PJO premier, but I got in trouble and couldn't go. So I wrote this.
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