The Pied Piper

by Nelarun

For the want of twenty-five pieces of silver, she damned their children. The Daughter of Hades really should have been paid. A twist on the old fairy tale.

The Pied Piper

A Percy Jackson Fan fiction

by Nelarun

A cheerful melody invoking pleasant memories of childhoods past and present filled my dreams. Like my mothers chocolate chip cookies, I felt warm and at peace. Images of a woman leading children like a mother duck with her ducklings, splashed across my mind, and like ripples in a pool of once still water, disappeared till the music was clear in my mind. A merry jig almost. Or possibly a reel. I frowned in thought before I realised that the music wasn't just in my mind, it was whispering in my ears as well. I jolted upright in my bed and looked around. My cabin was still the same. Everything was where I had left it, the windows were tightly closed and my door was shut, the pool in the corner of my cabin wasn't gleaming and glowing, allowing sound to enter the cabin via Iris message. And yet the music played on. I quickly slipped out of bed and ran to open the door, letting in the cool night air. Other campers had also heard the music and had exited their dorms. Even though we were all breaking curfew, the harpies were no where in sight. I dashed over to Athena's cabin – all of whom were looking at Half-blood hill where the moon was half hidden. Figures were silhouetted against the large, bright surface, lending an almost surreal quality to our surroundings. First came a woman, she danced and led a group of children who flocked after her, laughing and dancing in her footsteps. "Annabeth." I spoke softly, in the irrational fear that the woman would hear me and stop playing her intoxicating music

My friend and fellow Cabin leader turned to me, her eyes not leaving the woman. "Yes, Percy?" she asked, equally as softly as myself.

"Who is she?"

Annabeth, daughter of Athena – goddess of wisdom, repository of knowledge and keeper of sacred lore – looked uncertain for a moment before she shook her head. "I don't know."

This startled me. There were few constants in my world. One of the few that I clung to was that Annabeth always knew the answer. She knew everything from how to strategise a winning battle, to the engineering feats of all the civilizations in the world. She knew everything! Her not knowing who the woman was spooked me more than I cared to admit.

"The Pied Piper." came an unusually gentle voice. We all turned to see Mr D standing there, gazing at the place where the woman had been moments before, her music still lingering on the air, making everything sweeter. "I see you don't believe me." he mused before he started muttering under his breath about 'miscreants' and 'forgetting the old lore' and finally something about 'Chiron probably wanting the probable juvenile delinquents to know another story best left in the past.' "Camp fire." he barked out, back to his normal self. "I'll allow our good Chiron to tell you the story." he walked away muttering about 'calling the harpies off even though it was after curfew,' and that he was 'sure that some of them (being the campers) deserved being eaten anyway.'

We arrived in various states of alertness, huddled around the campfire watching as Chiron walked towards them. "You all know the story of the Pied Piper. How he saved a village from a plague of rats, but the villagers cheated him and he took their children instead?" at the few nods of acknowledgment, he continued. "This is the real story. It begins not a few centuries ago, but over two thousand years ago, in a period of time when the gods walked the earth.

"Hades, the god of the underworld, fell in love with a young women. A junior priestess in service to the Temple of Athena. When the High Priest discovered that the woman was pregnant, he cast her from the Temple. Her family would not take her in, nor would people aid her. Hades, hearing of her discomfort went to her side for a short while. They met in the olive grove of her brother and there, Hades gifted her with a flask of water that would never run dry and a lantern, who's fire would never be extinguished. While they were in the grove, Athena – walking her lands, discovered them. She became enraged and in her fury, swore that the woman was to die. The woman had been in service to her temple when she had fallen pregnant. That, Athena could forgive. Women were always falling in love and forgetting their vows. But this was different. The former priestess had been courted by the god of the underworld, and that was a transgression that could not be forgiven lightly. Out of all the gods children. It was the children of Hades that caused the gods the most distress. The people in their city states thus hunted down and killed the children where possible.

"Athena was no different. She pursued the woman across the land of Athens before the woman reached a family shrine. There was an alter to Hades there, and she knelt before it, wary of Athena at her back, and prayed for Hades protection. As Athena arrived, the woman left. This time, the Kindly Ones appeared to the woman and lifted her up and swept her away to a hidden grove on the mountain near Athens. While there, the woman gave birth to two children. A boy and a girl. For the purposes of this story, the boys name is inconsequential. The girls was Ilsaphone. They lived together for 20 long years, each getting to know their father and learn from the satyrs and nymphs. Their presence was kept secret from the outside world, though rumors abound to this day, that Pan took a special interest in the children and ensured that they knew of their heritage and the history of the gods.

"It was near their 20th birthday. The twins had been watching the city state of Athens prepare for the festival to Athena when they heard their mother cough. She had been unwell for some months now, but nothing could prepare them for the sight of their mother coughing blood into her hand. She looked at her children and saw a fear in their eyes. 'Don't fear.' Ilsaphone, soothed her mother, as her brother helped her lower her mother on her bed in the small house they had crafted from the wall of the mountain. 'Brother and I will return soon. There are healers below who will help us, for coin.'

'No.' the woman scolded her children. 'Should you reveal yourself, you will be killed. The people do not understand you as I do.'

Her brother gently held his mothers hands and was quick to reassure her. 'Mother, we have been to Athens before. Do not fear so. We shall return.' Ilsaphone agreed and with great reluctance, their mother blessed them before they went down the mountain to the city, dressed as travelers and bearing coin with Athena's likeness on it.

"As they approached the gates, they noted guards standing there checking everyone who came into the city. 'Your business?' the guard intoned.

'My sister and I have come to partake in the celebration that is our Lady Athena's.'

'I don't see offerings.' the guard eyed them suspiciously.

Ilsaphone slid her pack off and held out a simple gray fabric bag. 'It's a flute from our village. We represent them, this year.' she explained. The guard, as they hoped, didn't even glance at the flute (or else he would have seen that it wasn't owls and olives that graced the flutes carved features, instead images of the Elysian Fields, and of Persephone's Garden, were etched into the flute) and waved them through. They both agreed to separate and find as many cures as their money would allow before meeting at the left of the gates, in preparation of their journey home. Ilsaphone hurried away, listening to the calls of the merchants, displaying silver charms of the goddess Athena, while others sold scrolls and spells. Weapon merchants thrust their wares into her path, while children dodged underfoot, hoping to spy an unattended purse or a vendor not paying as close attention to his stall. After 20 minutes of worry, she came across a section that seemed devoted to the healing arts. 'Greetings, grandmother.' she called to an elderly woman as she entered the shop filled with herbs, lotions and potions.

'And what do you want?' the woman growled. Ilsaphone swallowed but continued on her quest.

'Forgive me for interrupting you, however my mother is ill.'

'Ill you say.' the woman mused and thought about the symptoms Ilsaphone described to her before she shuffled about, picking out a herb here, a petal there and dropping it into the small roughly woven pouch before she turned to Ilsaphone. 'Give this to her in hot water to breathe in. It will help still the bleeding in her lungs and reopen clogged airways.'

Different healers gave different cures and remedies and finally Ilsaphone arrived at the gate, her precious purchases tucked away in her bag. But her brother didn't come. She waited for three hours before she heard a group of merchants talking about the son of Hades. Her blood ran cold and she hurried over to the Temple of Athena, praying with all her might that it wasn't her brother.

This close to the Temple, the people were almost in a frenzy. She saw a cart nearby and ran to stand on in next to some other people. Her brother knelt there, surrounded by priests and armed guards. The head priest stepped forward and held out his hands for silence. The people did fall silent, looking at the man who knelt there on the altar, usually used for food offerings, but for today, held a much more sinister purpose. Her brother was beaten and bruised and her heart wept in agony. 'People of Athens, hear me!' the high priest cried out. 'This man is not one of our Ladies children. He is not even of another city state! And yet he bears our ladies likeness on his coins!' the people were edgy at the moment. Ilsaphone couldn't tear her eyes away from her brothers form. 'He is the son of a god, a demigod, if you will. And yet his kind are not tolerated in our fair society.' Her brothers eyes searched the crowed before he settled on Ilsaphone. 'Behold! I the son of Hades!' The crowd roared. She knew what was coming. The Priests were stirring up the people against her brother. 'I give him to you!' her brothers eyes widened. 'To dispense justice upon him!' The people roared in approval. Her brother looked at her in shock. Their mother was ill and she had lost most of her strength. If she heard that one of her beloved children had left the world, she would die herself.

Ilsaphone was stuck with a choice. To run and get the medicines back to her mother, but leave her brother at the mercy of the Athenians. Or to stay, and try to reason with the crowd. Try to get them onto her side.

"Thus, armed only with the gift her father had graced her with – her flute – she screamed in agony. The crowd turned to face her slowly. 'What crime has he committed that we sit here like caged animals and bay for his blood! What crime is this that the punishment is so harsh?'

'He is the spawn of Hades. That is crime enough!' The Priest reminded the people.

'His only crime was to be born?' she asked the crowd. 'None of us can choose our families! None of us can decide who our parents are!' The crowd was fixated on her word. 'Has he stolen?' she asked. The crowd was silent and she continued. 'Has he in anyway desecrated our ladies temple? No he has not! He has not even caused so much as a minor disruption to our day!' The people were murmuring amongst each other. This girl made sense. But the high priest could order them all killed for defying his word. And as humans are essentially pack animals, they will stick together. The girl was a stranger. The priest was Athenian. The crowd then turned on her and bayed for her brothers blood, and for her own. Since she spoke in the spawn of Hades' defence, she would die too! She shot her brother an apologetic look and turned and ran as the crowd lunged for her. She ran straight back to the first healer. The woman had been short with her, but Ilsaphone believed that she could be trusted. The old woman saw the girl and quickly ushered her in. 'And what trouble have you brought me, child?'

'Forgive me, grandmother. I spoke in earnest, to protect a man from an unjust death, and the crowd turned on me.'

'Never trust a crowd child. Wait here for three days.' the old woman with startling gray eyes decided. 'By that time, tempers would have ceased and the festival will be well under way. Not to mention that by day, the gates will be open. For free access.'

Ilsaphone tried to argue, explaining over and over again that her mother was close to death and three days was too long to make her wait. But the old woman shook her head and insisted that she sit still at the back of her shop and wait for the three days to pass.

"Needless to say, the old woman won and Ilsaphone waited in the shop, thinking on her brothers death, taking comfort in knowing that at least he was with their father now. When the festival for Athena was well underway, Ilsaphone left some of her precious coins behind and disappeared from the shop and out of the city gates. She dashed up to the grove and found the naiads tending to the body of her mother. Intense searing agony overtook the girl and she ran to the cliff near their home, intending to end her life and join her family in the underworld, clutching onto enough coins for her mother brother and herself to cross the river Styx. As she was about to fling herself from the cliff, a man reached out and stopped her. It was Hades. He had come to her to stop her from joining him before her time. He lead her back to the grove and sat her down. They talked for the rest of the day, Hades offering Ilsaphone something that drew her from her depression. While Persephone gathered the spirits of the adults to her, there were the spirits of the children to worry about. During her time in the grove, she had learned what is quite possibly the most important lesson of all. To listen. Now Hades was reminding her of lessons she had tried to forget. Children and babes sacrificed to pagan gods, their spirits wandering the land, not knowing where to go or how to get there, and even if they get into Charon's keeping, they have no way to pay the boatman for passage. Ilsaphone was skilled with the flute and could call the animals from their hiding spots just by playing a tune and focusing on what she wanted. But calling the children would be much harder. Hades, however was more than willing to see how she would go. He informed her that she had one chance to get it right or else she would be free to wander the lands as she saw fit. Ilsaphone hesitated before agreeing with her father.

"One of the Kindly Ones took her to a remote location. Spirits of the children swarmed around the forest, calling for their parents and milling about in a general state of confusion. Ilsaphone hesitated, then, lifting her pipe to her lips, she started playing a merry dance tune she had heard at a market day once in Athens. The spirits started to converge on her position, milling around her, entranced by the music. Some even started to smile again. When she sensed that most of them were with her, she turned and led the way towards Charon and his ferry, the children following like sheep. The Kindly One watched, hidden from the eyes of the spirits, as the children danced along behind her. Ilsaphone did this across the lands of the world, she never knew where she was, only that she knew where she was going. Time and space no longer held any meaning to her. Distance was no longer applicable to her and her charges, until she came to the boatman. Charon had been expecting Ilsaphone, but not that she would have so many charges to ferry across. Ilsaphone handed Charon the last of her families coins to pay for the children's passage and Charon finally agreed to ferry them. When she returned home, Hades was waiting for her. She knelt at his feet and waited for his pronouncement. 'If you should come into my service, you will remain immortal. You will shepherd the lost souls into my realm, is this agreed upon?' Ilsaphone looked up at him and she agreed most fervently. 'Rise then, my little Piper child.'.

"Thus, her life as the Piper began. She would listen to the cries of children and gather them to her. And mortals never saw her unless she allowed them to see her. For centuries, she shepherded children to her fathers halls, until the day when she heard a cry unlike any other. It was the cry of children in agony. Thus, she clad herself in a brightly coloured dress and appeared the the town, her bells tinkling as she danced to the rhythm of her melody, for these children were not dead. Not yet...

"Ilsaphone waited in the town square for the people to gather around her. 'I have heard your cries, now tell me. Why have you called for help?' The villagers turned as one to a hard looking man who stepped forward.

'Good lady, we are plagued with rats!' Ilsaphone looked the man and the rest of the villagers over. Many sported injuries and in some cases, missing fingers – from the rats, she assumed.

'I will take care of your rat problem.' she informed them, having noted the gaunt faces of children at the doors and peeking through windows.

'How?' the man scoffed and the villagers agreed with him. Ilsaphone just looked at them, until they fell silent once more.

'I can charm the wildest of animals to me, rats will not be a problem.'

'Proof!' the man cried. 'We want proof. If we are to give you coin in payment. I want proof before hand.'

'Very well.' Ilsaphone called to a bird from the forest. It came and landed next to the fountain and bobbed it's head in time to the pulsing melody. 'As I said, rats will be no problem.' she announced once she finished playing.

'So, now we just have to come to an agreement as to your payment.'

'Fifty silver pieces.' Ilsaphone shot out immediately.

'Robbery!' an old woman cried.

'Grandmother,' Ilsaphone replied. 'Fifty silver pieces ensures that rats will never return to your fair village.' That interested the villagers a whole lot and they were discussing rapidly for a few minutes before the man turned to look back at her.

'That is agreeable to us, good lady.' the man spoke again. 'Tell us. What name are we to call you?'

'You may call me The Piper.' Ilsaphone informed them and waited for her money. He handed her a purse and she counted out the pieces, looking up after she noted that they had only given her half the agreed sum.

'We'll pay you twenty-five coins now, and twenty-five when you have completed your work.'

Ilsaphone nodded. 'That is agreeable.' she mocked his earlier words but tucked the purse into her belt pouch. 'Open all doors and windows. I will be back at noon for the rest of my payment.'

"Ilsaphone started swaying, which set her bells to chime. Her flute reached her lips and she started playing a low and soothing song, forcing her mind to the rats, calling them to her. A flood of rats greeted her music as they scrambled and climbed over each other to get to the musician. A writhing, sea of rats was soon around her. She turned and headed out of the village. And to the villagers eternal amazement, the rats followed her. They followed her down the path through the forest and towards the river. The villagers followed her and they watched as she – forsaking the bridge, used the stepping stones to cross to the middle of the river. She knew, as they did, that the river ended quite abruptly mere meters ahead of her in the form of a waterfall before continuing out to the sea. The rats seemed hesitant to follow her into the river, but she simply changed her song to something slightly darker and more urgent and the rats poured into the fast flowing river before they were dragged by the currents over the waterfall and to their deaths. The villagers watched in awe before fear overtook them and they fled back to their homes. She was a witch, some said. If they paid her, they would be supporting her dark crafts. If they didn't, others argued, she would just take their money by force. A look out had been set and the boy returned calling that she was returning. 'I have come for the rest of my payment.' she informed them softly.

'We don't pay witches. Even those who go with the name of 'Pied Piper' the man informed her archly, mocking her two toned dress. 'Now get out of our village, and do not come back!'

"Ilsaphone's eyes narrowed as she gazed at the man. 'Three noons from now, I will return. If you do not have the money for me, or are unwilling to pay. I will take your children from you.' She left the village listening to the jeers and laughs of the villagers behind her. The next two days were spent with her wandering the forests, playing her melodies for the birds and gathering wandering spirits to her. On the third day, just before noon she returned to the village. She was once again wearing her dress and wearing her bells at her hip. 'I have come for my payment.' she called to the passing villagers. They all laughed at her and one of the men called out to her.

'You may have power over dumb animals, Piper, but you have no power over us!'

The sun hit noon and she sighed. 'One last chance. Pay me or suffer the consequences!'

Once again, the village laughed, children were still playing on the street or rushing around doing jobs. 'Never!' the men and women were growing tired of this stranger.

'You have brought this on yourselves,' she informed them regretfully before she raised her pipe to her lips once more, and began playing a merry tune. The children stopped what they were doing, and the Mist was lifted from the villagers eyes, and they could see clearly. Horror was etched on the mothers faces as spirits danced around the Piper. To the villagers it appeared that she had called their children's spirits from their bodies, when in reality she had called the spirits of the children who had been killed or wandered the forests. With one last look at mothers screaming and pleading with their husbands to save their children, and fathers and brothers snatching at the spirits as they passed, Ilsaphone lead the children through the forest. The villagers followed and pleaded with her, offering her all they had. But onwards she lead the children, who were laughing and dancing along in her footsteps. Finally she lead them towards a cave deep in the forest. She danced in, recognising it to be a gate to the underworld. Her clear music filled the cave, making it resonate... Then suddenly it was silent. There was no pipe, no children laughing and singing. Nothing, just the incessant dripping of water on the pool at the back of the cave. By the time the villagers had arrived, the spirits and the Piper had disappeared.

"The villagers had refused to pay the sum of 25 silver coins for services rendered, terms agreed upon before services began. And so Ilsaphone had done the greatest harm she possibly could to the village. She had lifted the Mist long enough for them to believe that she had stolen the souls of their children. Every ten years since then, Ilsaphone has allowed her music to be heard by the village as she passes by. On those nights, the doors are barred, the windows shut, and no one goes outside. Many years after the rats were driven from their land, two story tellers arrived by the name of Grimm. They listened to the villagers tell the story of the day the Piper had come and stolen their children away, after they refused to pay the remainder of their debt. The Grimm had written it down, changing the Piper from female to male, for they knew it would make more sense when telling it to other peoples, in other lands. Peoples who still believed that women didn't think, only obeyed their husbands and fathers. And so the story of the Pied Piper was made famous. Interestingly enough, no rats have ever set foot in that village again. And as you all saw earlier, Ilsaphone continues the task that was set before her, to call children to her and lead them to the underworld." Chiron stopped speaking and I was jolted back to awareness before he spoke again. "Now, enough of this. Dawn rapidly approaches. Return to your beds, claim a few hours sleep while you can." And with those final words, the centaur left the camp fire and headed back towards the Big House and away from the campers. I looked at Annabeth to my left. She seemed to be lost in thought. "Annabeth?" I called softly.

"Sorry, Percy. I was just thinking. For the price of twenty-five coins, she made the villagers believe that they had damned their children. Incredible."

"You approve?" I asked. It sounded too harsh for me.

"Well yes. She didn't take the souls, only those of the dead who wandered. As she was tasked to do."

Annabeth smiled and disappeared into her cabin, and after a moments thought, I went into my cabin. As I fell asleep, I swore on the river Styx that I heard the Piper playing her tune in my mind and my ear, a soft lullaby to soothe the weary and the troubled...