This started out as humorous and kinda just disintegrated into slightly angsty, mostly family-centered. Oh well. Enjoy!
The Forgotten Child
Artemis sighed for the umpteenth time. "You can't make him a spirit Manny!" she cried once more, absolutely fed up with the determined old man.
"Well why not?" the Moon spirit asked. "He's a fine boy, and has certainly died far too young. Besides, I need a new Guardian for when Pitch comes back in a couple hundred years."
"But he's a Demigod!" Artemis reminded him, at her wits end. Men! Always so stubborn!
"So he is," Manny noted, stroking his silver beard. "But that does not change the fact he's very suitable for what I have in mind."
"I'm speaking Ancient Fae, aren't I?" Artemis growled. "What part of 'You can't turn that boy into a spirit' do you not understand?!" Oh sweet mercy she should have never agreed to split the Moon's power all those eons ago!
"I'm sure his father won't have any objection," Manny commented, still acting oblivious to the goddess' frustration.
"Hermes will agree to just about everything, so long as you ask him right," Artemis shot right back. She sighed and shook her head, voice softening to say, "You know why you can't have the boy." This time, Artemis filled her words with reason, hoping the stubborn spirit would finally admit that she was right. "Our kind and yours…" she continued. "We just don't mix. To make a Demigod a spirit is practically begging for conflict." Maybe she could get Athena to drill some reason into this guy's head. She had a way with making people see things her way.
Manny sighed, running a hand down his face. "I do understand," he conceded. "But there is also a great shadow just over the horizon, and I just know that this boy is the only way to keep it from destroying everything that is good and light."
Artemis frowned. She didn't pretend to understand the Moon Spirit's keen sense of the future, or how he just knew that one boy could make all the difference. But he hasn't been wrong before; made some bad decisions perhaps, but never wrong. "There is…one way you could have him," she finally said, hating her words even as she said them. This was wrong, and she knew it, but... "Our kind cannot mix," she went on. "So if you want the boy as a spirit, he must not remember the truth."
Manny's eyes widened. "But to do that, we would-"
"Have to take away all of his mortal memories," Artemis finished for him. "Yes, I know. But it is the only way to guarantee he'll stay away from us. If he knew, he'd most likely try to seek out his father, or even that Demigod camp."
"It'd have to be a strong enchantment," Manny stated glumly. He clearly didn't like the idea of taking away the child's memories. "As a spirit, he will eventually run into your kind. It's inevitable. So whatever charm is done…it will have to hold up against that."
Artemis bowed her head. "So it shall be. The boy is yours." It occurred to her then that Hermes was most certainly going to have an objection to this.
He stomped right into the midst of her camp, disrupting her hunters and sending the wolves scattering. But Artemis knew Hermes would come. She had been waiting for him.
Unlike her meeting with Manny, where she had been in her full godly form, Artemis sat in her silver tent with the appearance of a young girl, twelve at the most. Her bow lay across her lap, her legs crossed beneath her, as she calmly listened to the sounds of an angry Hermes march right up and yank aside the tent flaps. Ignoring the protests of her hunters, he stormed in and glared down at her.
"How dare you!" he accused, pointing a shaking finger at her. "How dare you!"
Artemis, unfazed, stated simply, "Why don't you sit down."
"No, I will not sit down!" Hermes snapped at her. He probably would've started pacing, if the tent was large enough to. "You gave my son to that spirit! You let him have him! And now Jack doesn't even know who he is!"
Artemis remembered that the boy had always been a particular favorite of Hermes. She held back a wince, knowing that his anger was rightly placed.
"You had no right!" Hermes went on. "You had no right to do what you did!" At her silence, he growled, "Well? What do you have to say for all this?"
Artemis sighed, choosing her words carefully. Reasoning with the angry god would not be easy. "I did not want to give your son to be a spirit," she began. "I was, in fact, adamantly against it." Before Hermes could speak, she held up a hand and said, "But, Tsar Lunar told me something that forced me to change my mind." At this, Hermes paused, brow furrowed, and did sit down. Good. At least he was calm now. Mostly.
"He told me that a shadow is coming," Artemis continued once the god was sitting across from her. "One that will threaten everything. And he is absolutely convinced that your son is the key to making sure it doesn't destroy the world."
"A shadow," Hermes repeated, sounding dubious
"Pitch Black," Artemis clarified for him.
"The Spirit of Fear," Hermes murmured. He glanced at her and glared. "I still don't like it!" he informed her roughly, the anger returning.
"Nor do I," Artemis agreed. "But we cannot afford to be selfish."
"Selfish," Hermes snorted. "You take one of my children and erase all memories of his past and force him into a life where no one can see him, and he doesn't understand anything…but, sure, I can't be selfish."
"There now," Artemis reminded him, "Your son will be a hero one day."
Hermes gave a rueful smile at that. "Perhaps. But he will never remember who his family is."
Artemis wasn't sure what to say to that. "Nothing's written in the stars," she decided on.
It had been a long day, Jack mused as he sat in the window seat at the North Pole. In his hand was the golden canister that contained his teeth, and the memories of his childhood. Memories he was never supposed to see.
"Oy," Bunny called to him, sitting across from him. "Ya alright mate? Ya should be celabratin'! We defeated Pitch!" He tried for a smile, and Jack wondered if the kangaroo was trying to make up for the way he had treated the Winter Spirit earlier.
"I'm fine," Jack assured him. He held up his teeth and said, "But this isn't."
"Didn't ya watch them?" Bunny asked.
Jack nodded. "And I remembered. Everything." He sighed. "And I realized why my memories were taken in the first place." Three hundred years as a spirit, and he most certainly knew that his kind did not mix well with the gods.
"What's that then?"
Instead of answering, Jack frowned. "I'm not sure what to do," he admitted, even though Bunny had no idea what he was talking about. "I could cause a lot of problems if I…well, maybe…I'm not sure."
"What are ya goin' on about?" Bunny asked, utterly confused.
With a sigh, Jack decided to just say it. "I was a Demigod," he blurted out. After a moment, he added, "I guess I kinda still am, however that works, but, um…yeah." A lame finish, but he really had no idea what else to say. Bunny was staring at him.
"Yer jokin'," he accused.
"Wish I was."
The rabbit shook his head. "But that's…Ah mean…"
"Yep," Jack summed up. "I got unlucky enough to be chosen as apparently the only one who can help against Pitch, but since I already had a claim…well, why not just erase that part of my life, right? Doesn't matter that I'll spend the next three centuries wondering who I am, 'cause, hey! Pitch will be defeated!" Jack didn't even realize he had been feeling such animosity until the words were leaving his lips. But seriously, it was just unfair, no matter how childish that made him sound.
Bunny was silent for a long while, before probably blurting the first thing that came to mind. "So who's your godly parent?"
"Hermes," Jack answered..
Bunny snorted. "Shoulda figured."
"Doesn't matter though," Jack grunted. "It's not like I can pop in on Olympus to say hi or something. I…I'm a spirit now."
Another awkward string of silence before Bunny broke it by saying, "Didya hear about that big war between the gods 'n' the titans? 'N' that other one with tha giants?"
"Of course I did," Jack answered. "Everyone heard about that." Sighing glumly, he added, "The main Demigod who started the war against the titans was a son of Hermes."
"Awe man…" Bunny mumbled, not sure how to answer.
"I guess it doesn't matter much anyway," Jack murmured. He sighed and sat back against the window seat. "Everyone I knew is dead anyway. Well, except for Chiron. And my dad. I wonder if Zizi the cleaning harpy is still alive…"
"Ya went to that summer camp?" Bunny questioned.
"Yeah." Jack folded his legs up and rested his chin on his knees, eyes staring off into nothing.
Bunny hesitated before asking, "Ya want to see it again?" Jack nodded, still not looking his way. Taking a deep breath, Bunny said, "Then go."
Jack looked at him in surprise. "Really?"
Bunny gave him a half-grin. "Hey, those gods 'n' spirits really messed with ya, didn't they? Ah say go 'n' show 'em all why they don't control your life!"
"But isn't that breaking, like, a ton of rules?" Jack asked, but his grin was spreading quickly, the mischievous twinkle returning to his eyes.
"Since when have ya ever followed the rules?" Bunny challenged.
Now grinning from ear to ear, Jack hopped up and eyed the open window. Before leaving, he turned to the rabbit and said, "Thanks Bunny." Then he shot into the air, disappearing with a flurry of snowflakes.
"Where's Jack going?" Tooth asked from across the room.
"To wreck havoc," came Bunny's blunt reply. "What else?"
Camp Half-Blood. Amazing how little had changed in three hundred years. Well, except for the Big House, which used to be just a big log cabin. And the strawberry fields. And the bathrooms. And the extra cabins. And Dionysus playing cards on the porch with Chiron… Okay, a lot has changed.
It occurred to Jack that he had no idea what to do now that was here. Ideally, he would talk to Chiron again…but that was a slim chance, considering there was a god right there. With nothing else to do, he headed for the forest. At the very least, he'd get a closer look at the camp one more time. He'd have to be careful though. Demigods could see him whether they believed or not.
Jack landed at a familiar looking cave at the edge of the trees. "Bunker 9," he exclaimed softly to himself. "I wonder if it was ever actually used…"
"Hey!" a voice cried behind him. Jack whirled around, coming face to face with a thin boy who had grease all over his face and clothes. Jack couldn't even tell what he looked like, he was so dirty. "Who are you?" the boy demanded, trying and failing to sound threatening. That was when Jack noticed the toolbelt around his waist.
"Andrew's toolbelt!" Jack exclaimed, a rush of nostalgia overcoming him as he remembered midnight pranks and fear of the toolbelt that had a never-ending supply of nuts and bolts ammo for the mini finger catapult.
"Que?" the boy started. "Who's toolbelt now? You mean this one?" He patted the seemingly empty belt strapped around his waist.
"Sorry," Jack said, frowning. "I mean yes. I mean…sorry." Gods dammit he wasn't supposed to run into anyone! What was he supposed to do now?
The boy looked at him critically. "So who are you then? I haven't seen you around camp before."
"Ah, I, um…used to come here," Jack replied. "A long…long time ago."
"In a galaxy far, far away," the boy finished randomly, before frowning and asking, "So, who are you then? Still haven't answered that question."
"Right…" Jack trailed, unsure of what to say. "See, I'm not actually supposed to be here. It's just generally not a good idea…and, uh, you have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?"
"Nope!" the boy answered cheerily. "And you still haven't answered my question."
"Well…I'm Jack," the spirit finally told him.
The boy smiled. "Nice to meet you Jack. I'm Leo, Supreme Commander of the Argo ll, may she rest in peace…" For a brief moment, he had a ridiculous little frown on his lips, before he perked up again and said, "So how'd you know whose toolbelt this is? I mean, I don't even know whose it was, I just found it in Bunker 9."
"Andrew," Jack repeated. "He made it…spent two full years on it too. We'd use to try and sneak things in it, like scorpions or finger snatchers or…um…" He trailed off at Leo's widened eyes.
"Are you a ghost?" he asked incredulously. "Like, a half-blood who was alive hundreds of years ago?"
"Where did you get that idea?" Jack asked him.
"Well, Bunker 9 has been around for at least 200 hundred years, and if you know who created this toolbelt, which I found in there, then…well…" Leo looked at him excitedly as he asked again, "So, are you?"
"Sure," Jack replied. "Let's go with that."
"Cool!" Leo exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air. Calming himself, he asked "So why are you here, Mr. Ghost-Man?"
"Don't call me that," Jack told him bluntly. "And I'm here because…well, I wanted to see the camp again, and I was kind of hoping to talk to Chiron."
"Right, that dude's, like, a million years old!" Leo recalled. "Well, I can take you to him, if you follow me."
"Yeah…I don't think that's gonna work," Jack muttered, scratching the back of his head.
"Why not?"
"Like I said," he answered. "I'm not supposed to be here. The fact that there's a god here doesn't help matters."
"Oh, yeah, Mr. D," Leo remembered. "Was he here when you were alive?"
"No," was all Jack answered with.
"Hm…so how long ago as it that you were alive?"
"About 300 years," Jack answered, a bit distracted as he wondered to get away from Leo the chatterbox.
"Wow. So you're, like, an old man! Explains the hair." Jack's hand flew up to his white locks automatically, but Leo didn't wait for him to catch up as he asked, "So what's with the staff? Was that your weapon or something back in the day?"
"In a way, I guess," Jack replied honestly. "I mean, back at home, I was a shepherd, and I had to protect my sheep."
"Wait, so you fought…I dunno, bears and stuff with a stick?" Leo wondered. "That's awesome!" he declared before Jack could answer. "I'd like to see Jason fight off a bear with a stick! Or Percy fight off a shark or something…" Leo shook his head and asked, "So who's your godly parent then?"
"Hermes," Jack told him cautiously. He was prolonging his stay a little too long, and had to go soon.
"Hm, explains how you managed to slip out of the Underworld," Leo concluded. His eyes suddenly narrowed as he said, "Y'know, I've seen ghosts…and you don't look very ghostly."
"Well, I'm not exactly a ghost," Jack told him. "But I was a Demigod, and I did die, and that's all you really need to know…" He frowned as he noticed some ominous clouds rolling in and said, "Listen, I've stayed here too long. I better go. But could you do me a favor?"
"Sure!" Leo replied.
"Could you tell Chiron that Jackson Overland says hi?" Jack said, wincing a bit at how lame that sounded. "Tell him…tell him that I'm okay, that everything worked out alright and…and that the ice wasn't really as cold as it should've been."
Leo frowned. "What does that mean?"
Jack only smiled. "He'll understand. Just tell him." Giving the forest and camp one last rueful gaze, Jack said, "Nice meeting you Leo." And then he was gone, shooting up into the sky, leaving an opened mouth skinny kid behind. Eh, oh well. Let him think what he wanted. Time to visit his father.
Leo was out of breath by the time he made it back to the Big House, where Chiron and Mr. D had finished their game and were now sitting on the porch, the former looking content in his wheelchair while the latter looked absolutely bored. "Chiron!" he cried, coming to stop beside the centaur as he panted. "Chiron," he repeated.
"Is there something wrong?" Chiron asked, Mr. D astutely ignoring the camper as he sipped his Diet Coke.
"No. Well, kinda…I don't know. See, there was this weird white-haired guy in front of Bunker 9, and I had no idea who he was or how he got there, but he knew who made my toolbelt, and said he was a ghost but not a ghost, and-"
"Whoa there," Chiron stopped him. "Slow down. Now, tell me what happened?"
Leo took a large gulp of air and explained, much slower, "There was someone in front of Bunker 9. This white-haired guy, didn't recognize him. He said his name was Jack and that he used to be a half-blood who came here a long time ago. 300 years, actually." Chiron's brow furrowed as Leo plunged on. "He said he was kind of like a ghost, because he died, but he's not quite one…I dunno, he didn't really explain that. But he knew who made my toolbelt. Someone called Andrew?"
Recognition flickered in Chiron's eyes. "Ah, yes. Now that you say it, I do remember. Been a long time though. A very long time." He looked troubled as he said, "Continue."
"Well, when I asked him, he said he was a son of Hermes-" Chiron was looking really troubled now. "-and that he wanted to talk to you, but couldn't because he wasn't really supposed to be there. Like, he was breaking rules or something. Anyway, he asked me to tell you something."
"What?" Chiron practically demanded, his brown eyes laced with an emotion Leo couldn't place.
Shifting awkwardly from foot to foot, he replied, "He said to tell you that Jackson Overland says hi. That he's okay, and everything turned out alright. Also, the ice wasn't as cold as it should've been."
"Was it that Frost boy?" Mr. D suddenly demanded. "Oh, I bet it was! What is that spirit thinking, waltzing in here? I ought to turn him into a dolphin!"
But Chiron's face was completely pale, his lips pressed into a thin line. "I see," he murmured after some time.
"Chiron?" Leo felt really awkward now.
The centaur simply sighed and gave a small, rueful smile. "It seems the gods have been playing a dangerous game. And I believe they lost. I wonder what was so important, that Artemis allowed the Man in the Moon to turn Jack into a spirit?"
"Okay, I'm super confused," Leo blurted out, hoping for answers.
"Ah, it is nothing," Chiron assured him, not convincing him in the slightest. "It would be best if you just forgot about that." A very clear dismissal. And by the way Chiron was looking, Leo decided he best obey it.
"Um, okay then," he answered awkwardly before walking away. He didn't look back to see the tear that rolled down Chiron's cheek. It did occur to him, however, that he forgot to mention that Jack literally flew off into the air like Superman.
Hermes. The god of thieves, merchants, messengers…anyone on the road really. Jack supposed it made sense he found the deity on the side of a highway in the middle of nowhere, looking off into a field of yellow grass. Cautiously, Jack landed beside the god, extremely unsure of himself. He was about to talk to his dad. His dad, who was an all-powerful god of Olympus. And he was a spirit.
Hermes was the first to speak, still not looking at the teen. "We've met before, I believe."
For a moment, Jack was taken aback. Didn't he know who he was? But then he realized how wrong this all was. Spirits and gods weren't supposed to mix. The fact that Jack was a Demigod was a big no-no, and talking to his godly parent even worse. But so long as the issue itself wasn't brought up, they might be able to get away with a brief conversation.
"Yeah," Jack replied, turning out to the field. "You must've known who I was then." A slightly dangerous question, but still general enough that it was okay.
"I did," Hermes admitted. "I didn't like it."
That made Jack smile. He did care, at least.
"But you're a hero, now," Hermes continued. Jack glanced at him and caught a smile. "A guardian. You're famous even among the gods." Jack was fairly certain he wasn't entirely famous for the reasons that Hermes was implying, but didn't say it. "Your family would be proud," Hermes added, causing a grin to bloom on Jack's face.
"Thanks Da- ah, Hermes."
This time, the god did turn to him, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "A lot of people are proud of you," he said. "Jack." Thunder rumbled overhead, earning the attention of the two immortals. "But perhaps it is best we parted ways now."
"Probably," Jack agreed. He gave the god a half-smile and said, "Bye Hermes."
"I'll be seeing you," he replied with a nod. And with a bright flash, he was gone, leaving Jack on the side of a highway, an open field of yellow grass spread before him.