Chapter One
The Enslavement of Diomedes Black
In the world of Greek myth, legends are still being born. From the loins of the gods, a new generation of heroes is coming. And those legends aren't limited to the safety of children's tales. Join Diomedes Black, son of Ares, on his quest to carve his name into the pages of history.
This is intended to be a trilogy (Subject to change. This could end up being a series with four or five stories). The main character is a son of Ares and an OC. Also, the entire first story will occur pre-Percy Jackson. The later stories will include him, but as a minor character. Beyond that, the rampant god bashing/idiocy/plot armor/good guys always winning won't be a thing here. In particular, Ares is a god. An Olympian one at that. He sits on the council and has dominion over war and other violent arts. He's also an asshole. These truths and characterizations will be shown true. Ares bashing will be one of the more disturbing ways to commit suicide.
On top of that, this is not a kid's story, it will be geared more towards a young adult audience. If any of this is going to be a problem, don't read the story. If you do read it and have a problem with it, I don't care. Telling me about your problems won't matter. If you have problems, talk to a therapist, not me. I'll just laugh at you. (Reading this paragraph over a year after I wrote it, holy shit, I'm in asshole mode there).
Here is a basic outline of the trilogy
Pre-canon through Luke's quest
Post-Luke's quest through The Titan's Curse
Post-Titan's Curse through the battle of Manhattan
While I've used these events to give you a timeline, expect large variability of the coverage of canon events, as I've no intention of following Percy around on his little quests. Any coverage of HoO or Apollo's little quest is currently unplanned. In fact, I haven't even read the Apollo's quest set of stories, nor do I intend to. Any other mythologies existing within Riordan's world will NOT be included or covered at all. Also, as I write the story, I might change the end point of this story and the start of the second one, depending on how the flow is feeling at that point.
Pairing for this story is undecided. I currently have no set plans for it, so it might not happen. At the same time, I do have a few ideas, so a pairing could happen. If you have ideas let me know and if I ever bother to read reviews or PM's I might consider it. Also of note, the MC's pairing won't be slash. However, this a world of Greek gods and demigods, bisexuality and homosexuality are going to be fairly common in the background.
One final warning before I start, the main character is going to be an asshole. He will be rude, crude, and generally antagonistic to most people. He will say and do things that most sane people will find offensive. If this is going to be a problem for you, don't read the story. Also, while it should go without saying, the views and opinions expressed by the characters herein do not necessarily reflect my own. Calling me an asshole because characters express views you disagree with won't do anything. At all. I probably won't check reviews much if at all. I also probably won't check PM's either.
Now, without further ado, let's get to the story.
0o0o0o0o0
"Have I ever told you how you got your name?"
I was seven years old and sitting by the fire. My mother and I had hiked a few miles into the forest and set up camp by a lake in central Oregon. It was an evening in late August and the sun had already set. The question took me off guard and when I looked at my mother, she had an unusual look on her face. One I couldn't really identify. "What's it matter," I asked, "you told me it's a name to be proud of and I beat people's faces in when they try to make fun of it."
My mother cracked a smile, "As you should. If violence isn't the answer, you're simply not applying it correctly." Growing serious, she continued, "But that isn't what I meant. Diomedes is an unusual name, but it is a name to be proud of. During the Trojan War, he was a King of mortal blood who was favored by Athena for his abilities in warfare and defeated both Aphrodite and Ares in combat. I named you after him because I knew you could be as great as he was, possibly even greater. I also named you Diomedes to piss off your father."
I blinked. My mother never talked about my father. I knew I had one, but that was it. "Did you hate my father?"
She shook her head. "No. Quite the opposite really. It's just, your father and I don't do romance the normal way. You see, your father is Ares, the God of War. He revels in violence, bloodshed, and anger. Pissing people off is his hobby and the only thing he respects is strength. He tried to give me shit so I punched him in the face. That started a fight that ended in multiple broken bones for each of us."
I snapped out of my surprise to question that, "Wait, you beat up the God of War? Really?"
My mother shook her head, "Well, not quite. The truth is, there are rules and laws that govern how gods interact with mortals, so while I gave as good as I got in the fight, truthfully he was also severely limiting his power."
I nodded, "Okay, so how does this lead to him becoming my father?"
"Well, after that, he would track me down every couple of weeks to give me more shit and I would respond in kind. We got along like a house on fire. It was wonderful. When I got pregnant though, he told me that the same laws governing how he interacted with mortals prevented him from being able to spend time with any demigods he sired and meant he wouldn't be able to see me again. In a way I was devastated, but at the same time I was relieved. While I certainly enjoyed the time I spent with him, I didn't really love him. Mostly we just fed each other's antagonism for fun and left devastation in our wake. However, I was also kind of annoyed, so as a final shot to him, I named you Diomedes."
Grinning, I thought about what she'd told me. "Why tell me this now?"
She glanced at me and smiled, "That is a good question, and the type of question you should always continue to ask. Ares is a god of war and not known for his intelligence or critical thinking. You inherited your affinity and skill for violence from him, but you are also human and must temper your godly traits with your human ones. As for why I'm telling you now, it's because the supernatural world doesn't only consist of gods. Greek mythology tells of monsters and trials as well. The life of a demigod is dangerous and often ends young. I don't want that for you, so I'm telling you the truth of your heritage so you can train accordingly and hopefully live long enough to have a family of your own. Starting tomorrow, I'm going to teach you to fight. I'm also going to teach you to survive in the wilderness. We have enough food to last us three days, but we're going to be out in the wilderness for a few months. We'll start by heading north a dozen miles a day and living off the land around us."
0o0o0o0o0
It was a few weeks later, as we were camping on a ridge by Mt. Hood, that we were attacked. My mother thought it was a bear, but I was pretty sure bears were supposed to have more than one eye. This idea was only reinforced when she shot it to absolutely no effect. It was as though the bullet simply phased through it.
"Shit!" With a curse, she tossed the gun and turned to me, "Run! This is a monster!"
Ignoring her, I ran at the cyclops. Bringing back my fist, I punched it as hard as I could. Hitting it in the meat of the thigh, it still didn't do any real damage. In fact, all it did was draw its attention down to me. With a frown, it kicked as hard as it could, sending me flying back into a tree.
With a snarl, my mother made her own run at it, "Damn it, Dio! Get out of here! We don't have any weapons that can hurt this thing and it's too strong to fight with fists." Dodging around its feet and fists, she proceeded to try anyways, "Get out of here before you get killed!"
As if. I wasn't going to simply leave my mother to die. Slowly standing with a grimace, I looked around our campsite. From what she'd told me, mortal weapons wouldn't work on monsters. That ruled out her gun and the various knives we had with us. Still, as I looked at the fire I had a thought. Sticks and fire are parts of nature, they should be perfectly effective against the beast.
Running for the fire, I grabbed the largest stick I could find out of it and turned back to the beast, only to freeze. With one massive hand gripping her head and the other batting her futile strikes away, the cyclops had clearly won the fight. Meeting my eyes with a savage grin, the beast spoke, "You're next, demigod." And with a squeeze, her skull was crushed.
Enraged beyond belief, I could only watch as my mother's corpse was tossed aside, hitting a tree before falling to the ground. Turning back to the cyclops, it was busy licking its hand clean and sucking the skull splatter off its fingers. When it refocused on me and gave me another grin, my mind went blank. And then it went red.
"RAHH!" Face locked in a rictus of hatred, I leapt at the beast. As it tried to grab me, I ducked around its arms and stabbed forward with the flaming stick in my hand. Piercing its stomach, I let go of the branch, leaving it impaled in the cyclops. As it roared in agony, I kicked its legs out from under it, causing it fall on its stomach, forcing the branch all the way through its body.
As it tried to get back up, I grabbed its head and lifted. As soon as I could see its eye, I let go with one hand and reached for it, shoving my hand straight through its eye and into its skull. Upon its death, the cyclops let out a scream of agony before dissolving into particles of dust, which seemed to blow away on an invisible breeze.
With the battle suddenly over and the danger seemingly passed, I collapsed back against a tree. With the adrenaline fading, I was left feeling exhausted, with a tinge of panic thrown in as well. Looking back at where the monster had been, I saw a glint of something metallic. Making my way over, I frowned at what appeared to be a set of bronze knuckles. Picking them up and finding they fit my hands, I got the impression of a bloodthirsty grin from afar as I wore them for the first time. Seeing my mother's corpse, I snarled at the world around me and began punching a tree.
Waking up was a strange experience since I couldn't remember falling asleep. Looking around was a challenge considering it appeared to be the middle of the night. Groaning at the pain in my hands, I tried moving my fingers only to realize I was still wearing my new knuckles. Trying to slip them off proved to be a futile challenge, as my fingers were swollen from all the abuse I'd put my hands through. With a sigh, I made my way through my campsite, finding and turning on any lights I could.
Able to see, I thought about my situation. Apparently, I was the son of the god of war. As proof that the supernatural world existed, I watched my mother get killed by a cyclops. Enraged, I killed the monster, only to find myself rewarded with some bronze knuckles to beat things with. Now, I was alone in the forest in Oregon. Nowhere to go, no one to care if I disappeared. On the other hand, I had enough rage that the idea of finding more monsters to kill seemed fairly appealing. Packing up the camp, I put as much as I could into my pack. Everything else went on a pile. Not wanting to leave my mom's corpse behind, I dragged it onto the pile of crap before lighting it on fire. Throwing as many branches as I could find on it, I watched it burn for a few minutes before turning and walking into the dark.
0o0o0o0o0
Six months later, I'd made my way east. From what I knew about geography and the rate at which I traveled, I figured I was somewhere in Idaho. Luckily, I'd managed to find civilization a few times and stolen some clothes, as it was the heart of winter and cold as fuck. I'd even been running into a fair bit of snow. On the downside, there weren't a lot of monsters out in the middle of nowhere. Typically, they only showed up what I was near lots of people. Out in the wilderness, I'd only come across them every couple of weeks. Still, at least the fights tended to be fun.
Walking through a snow field, I grinned as I felt my blood surge. I'd long since learned that this was a sign that there was a monster around. Reaching to my belt, I slipped my knuckles on as I listened for the sound of something approaching. Hearing the sound of snow crunching, I turned to my left. With a savage grin, I saw what looked like a large black wolf break through the trees and into the open field. As it sprinted towards me, I judged the distance before running towards it.
Right as it transferred from a run to a lunge, I dropped to the ground. Skimming the top of my head, it landed with an irritated grunt. As it began to turn towards me, I stood with a spin and punched as hard as I could. Hearing something snap, I grinned as the creature yelped and jumped away. This turned out to be a problem, as I'd just broken its leg. Yelping, it stood stationary and growled at me, waiting for me to make a move so it could attempt to get its revenge.
Killing it turned into a fairly tedious process. While it couldn't move very well, my need to be in punching range to hurt it made me a fairly easy target. In the end, it managed to claw me a few times before I managed to crush its throat. As it dissolved into golden dust, I was surprised to hear clapping from behind me.
"Wonderful display young man," came a voice. Turning to face it, I didn't have time to react before finding myself pinned to the ground by three more of the creatures I'd just killed.
Struggling against the beasts, I tried to free myself, only to be met with failure. While I'd gotten pretty good at fighting and had some impressive strength thanks to my lineage, I was still only seven. Scowling, I turned my attention to the man who'd snuck up on me. Standing nearly six feet tall, he had black hair and brown eyes. With a fairly plain face, what stood out most about him was the armor he wore and strong build, giving him the look of a warrior.
With a patronizing smile, he addressed me, "Truly, you managed to kill one of my hellhounds; that is an impressive accomplishment. Your apparent youth only makes it more so. Still, you are trespassing on my Lord's land and have committed a crime against his property, so I suppose I should bring you to him to decide your punishment."
I glared at him, "Hey, let me go and fight me asshole!"
He shook his head at me, "Tut tut, that kind of language is not appropriate for a child such as yourself. Still, I suppose it's my fault for failing to introduce myself. I'm Xanthos, head of security for the Coliseum. And who might you be?"
"Go fuck yourself," I spat at him.
Giving a frown, Xanthos pulled the spear off his back. "You really need to learn some manners," he then proceeded to bash my head with the haft of the spear.
I woke up disoriented. With a throbbing head and unable to move my arms, I could also feel a sharp pain around my neck. On top of that, it felt like I was being dragged. Blinking my eyes open, I looked around and saw I appeared to be being dragged behind one of the hellhounds by a rope around my neck. Except I wasn't choking. As I started regaining proper mental functioning, I realized what that probably meant. "Oy! Asshole! Did you collar me?!"
Ahead of me, Xanthos paused, tilting his head, "Hmm? Oh, yes. I suppose I did," and then he proceeded to continue on as if nothing had happened.
From then on, he ignored me entirely. Every time I tried to curse him out, one of the hellhounds would come over and knock me around. With my hands tied behind my back while being dragged through the snow, I found myself completely unable to defend myself or fight back.
Groggy, tired, and sore, it took me a minute to realize we'd come to a stop. Once I realized that, it took me another minute to struggle to my feet. In front of me was what appeared to be a mansion, though if what Xanthos had said about a coliseum was any indication, the structure was probably more than a simple home. Feeling a tug on my neck, my attention was drawn to the rope tied to me, only to realize it was actually a chain. Following it back, I realized it was also no longer connected to a hellhound, instead being held by Xanthos.
He gave me an empty smile, "Well, come on. Have some dignity and walk, or I'll bring the hellhound back and have him drag you again."
Even entering through a side door, it was clear the mansion was opulent. Paintings lined the walls in gilded frames, the carpet was a work of art, and the statues that showed up at frequent intervals fluctuated between beautiful and disturbing, though the quality was high regardless. Stumbling through the halls, Xanthos led me to a set of massive double doors before stopping. Turning to glare at me, he was the most serious I'd seen him yet. "Do not disrespect my Lord or your punishment will be spoken of in legend."
Entering the room, I was led before a desk and stopped. Looking around, it appeared to be an office of a sort. Dominated by a massive wooden desk and resplendent chair, the rest of the office was bare save decorations and an intimidating fireplace to one side. Behind the desk was an expansive window, offering a view of the snow covered grounds outside.
"Xanthos, what brings you here?" I was snapped from my thoughts at the voice. Looking behind the desk, a man was sitting in the chair. With long blond hair and an aristocratic face, he gave the impression of being modern royalty. Glancing at me, he frowned, "And why have you brought me a child?"
Giving the man a deep bow, Xanthos answered, "Lord Titus, I found this child stumbling around your land. In apprehending him, he managed to kill one of the hellhounds. I've brought him to you so you can decide an appropriate punishment."
The man, Lord Titus, gave a thoughtful hum before frowning, "He killed one of the hellhounds? At his age?" Seeing Xanthos nod he gave me a more considering glance, "Boy, who are you?"
Refusing to be cowed, I sneered at him, "Diomedes Black. And once my head stops throbbing I'm going to kill you." A second later, my head hit the ground as Xanthos yanked the chain.
Walking over, he stepped on my head, increasing the pressure as he scowled, "I told you to be respectful." Grinding his foot a little, he proceeded to kick the side of my head before turning back to Titus, "I apologize my Lord, he has no respect in his body."
As Titus laughed, I forced my way back to my feet, not willing to show any more weakness to my captos. Scowling at Xanthos, my attention was drawn back to Titus as he spoke, "That's fine. He doesn't need respect for his future." He then turned to me with an evaluating look on his face, "Boy, I can tell you're a demigod. Which god is your parent?"
"Ares," I said, glaring at him.
Hearing my answer, he developed a rather joyful smile, "Wonderful! Olympian demigods are rare, and to receive a son of the war god, truly this is a wonderful day." Turning to Xanthos he gave his orders, "Take him to the dungeon. Lock him up, heal him, and feed him. Let him rest. We're having a gathering in three days, I want him to be capable of fighting at his best then. His age, lineage, and power should make him a star attraction in the Coliseum."
Blinking as the words settled in my mind, I frowned, "Fuck no. I fight for me, not anyone else. Fuck you and your coliseum bullshit."
Titus gave me an apathetic shrug, "That's fine as well. The Olympian council isn't very popular, killing one of their kids will bring in quite a bit of money. If you don't want to fight, you're free to die." With a dismissive hand-wave, he turned back to the work on his desk.
In the end, I wound up in a cell in the dungeons. With a length of chain binding my ankle to the wall and my hands now bound in front of me, I had the freedom to walk around my cell and feed myself, but no more than that. For three days, I was given food and water. The only person I saw was Xanthos, and he made sure I knew I was a captive every time he showed up.
Finally, once what I assumed to be three days had passed, he showed up at my cell without any food, instead bringing a change of clothes. Throwing them at me, he gave me one of his patronizing smiles, "Well, time's up. Fight or die, the choice is yours." Walking over, he freed my hands, but before I could try to attack him, I felt a shock run through my collar as he stepped back. "Careful, we wouldn't want to injure you before your debut. Now, you have five minutes to get dressed, and then we're leaving. If you don't want to wear these clothes, you can fight in your bloody rags." So saying, he turned and left me to my own devices.
Glaring at his retreating back, I turned to the clothes he'd given me. Nothing fancy, or even as archaic as I'd expected given the fact I was apparently supposed to fight in an arena. Instead, it appeared to simply be some loose jeans and a plain shirt, declaring me a son of Ares. Giving the clothes a sneer, I dropped them, "Oy! Fuckwad! I'm ready to go. I'd sooner fight naked than in whatever clothes you and your boyfriend provide me."
Xanthos quickly returned with a scowl on his face, "I almost hope you survive your battles today, if only so I can have the privilege of truly teaching you your place in the world."
Dropping to the ground as a shock ran through my collar, I nearly blacked out, only to regain my senses with my arms bound behind my back and a leash once more attached to my neck. While my instincts demanded I fight against this leashing, I understood that I'd simply end up getting injured and electrocuted. I also knew that if I was going to be fighting for my life soon, it'd be best to avoid starting with a debilitating injury. So, I grimaced and followed along as I was led to the arena.
As I was led into a room with a second door I figured led into the arena, Xanthos gave me an empty smile, "The promise of an Olympian demigod has already made my Lord as much money as the last three months combined. You could go out there and die of a heart attack and still your presence would be a net positive for my Lord. Still, if you want to actually fight and help him make even more money, do feel free. It will be quite enjoyable to watch you struggle."
With a final smirk, he unbound my arms and legs before locking me in the room. Scowling at his words, I looked around the room. There were racks of standard weapons made out of the same bronze material my knuckles had been made from. Considering the weapons, I thought about my situation and what Xanthos had said. Ultimately it was a lose-lose situation for me. Win or lose, live or die, Titus would profit off me. I could attempt to salvage my pride and die refusing to give in, but then deliberately losing a battle would destroy my pride as well. I could abandon my pride and fight as a slave, but then doing everything I could to win a fight would be exactly what my pride demanded. And no matter what I did, Titus would profit and Xanthos would be happy.
With a shake of my head, I grabbed a set of knuckles as well as a spear. I was Diomedes Black, I'd fight this battle, win, and fight again. I'd do it until an opportunity presented itself, and then I'd kill Titus and his attack dog Xanthos. I'd destroy this coliseum and leave a trail of corpses as I created my own freedom.
As I settled my resolve and slipped on my knuckles, I heard the roar of a crowd from outside. As the sound grew louder, I saw the door begin to open on its own. As I stepped out, I felt my blood begin to rush and power begin to build in my body. Entering the coliseum proper, I heard the booming voice of an announcer, "And here he is! The son of War, Diomedes Black!"
Looking around, the crowd seemed to be made up primarily of various monstrosities, which I assumed to belong to the Greek world. Still, there was a fair number of humans mixed in as well. One thing that was consistent, however, was the bloodthirsty shouts they were all letting out. The fact I was a kid didn't bother them. The fact that I was a slave mattered not at all. This was a group at least a thousand strong that all wanted to see me dead simply because my father was an asshole. Sneering at them, I promised I'd kill them all as well.
Eventually, my eyes settled on the other side of the arena where my opponent waited. With a green snake-like body and two snake-like tails in place of legs, she stood with a shield and a spear. Looking at me with narrowed eyes, I watched as a snake tongue darted out from her lips as she analyzed me. Giving her a smirk, I took the spear off my back and dropped it on the ground before taking a few steps forwards. As she glared at my disregard for the danger she represented, my smirk widened.
Seeing that the combatants were ready and the crowd was pumped, my eyes were drawn to Titus as he stood and spoke from his place of importance in the stands, "Very well, this is my star attraction for this month's gathering. Let the battle commence."
As soon as he finished speaking, the snake-lady slithered towards me at a surprisingly fast pace. Still, I had plenty of experience fighting monsters and punched away the haft of her spear with my knuckles while using my other elbow to force her shield to the side. Before she could react, I proceeded to kick her in the stomach. Before she could recover from that, my hands had recovered enough to land a truly devastating blow to her face. "What kind of monster are you?" I asked, as she tried to regain her bearings.
Giving me a venomous glare, she responded, "A Scythian Dracaena." As she answered, she charged back in, trying to catch me in the stomach with her spear. This time though, as I moved to block it, she brought one of her tail legs around to slam into my side.
Grimacing as I was thrown nearly ten feet to the side, I slowly stood back up with a grimace. As she charged in to try and take advantage of my surprise, I dodged around her rather than try and block her assault once more. As she tried to spin around to face me again, I delivered my own blow to her kidney. While my earlier blow had left a few gashes across her face, this one perforated her side with a couple of holes before tearing through it as well, leaving a series of bloody gashes in her side.
As she cried out, this time I was prepared for one of her tails to come around and ducked under it. Being significantly shorter than her already, this put me between her legs and as I propelled myself back up, I punched her right at the juncture. This time, the wail of agony that left her signaled the end of the fight. As she fell to the ground in agony, it was clear that the fight was over.
Still, before I could return to the room I had entered from, I heard Titus speak up once more, "A splendid display Diomeded Black. Now finish her." I looked at him before returning my look to my downed opponent. As I contemplated my next action, I felt a small shock in my collar as Titus spoke up again, "Fight or die. The battle isn't over until you opponent is dead."
Frowning, I walked back over to my downed opponent and grabbed her spear. Leveling it at her writhing body, I took a breathe before ending her life. As the crowd roared its approval, I merely watched as her body dissolved into motes of golden light, before dispersing on a non-existent breeze.
When the body was gone in its entirety, I discarded the spear and returned to where I'd started. Turning to face Titus, I maintained a blank face as I saw the satisfaction simmering in his eyes.
After a minute had passed, Titus raised his hand to silence the crowd. When the cheers were finished, he lowered his arm and grinned, "A splendid display from our newest combatant. However, he is a son of War, a single fight could never be enough to sate him, so a gauntlet has been created. This was merely the first of five battles." Waiting with a smile as the crowd showed its appreciation for this turn of events, Titus met my eye with a sharp grin, "So, let us move on to the next challenge, and see if Diomedes can truly live up to his lineage!"
As the crowd roared, I kept my face empty as the door on the opposite side of the arena opened again, this time letting out a hellhound. With a shoulder height in line with my eyes, the beast was massive and powerful. As it gave a mighty roar, I barely heard as Titus announced the start of the battle.
0o0o0o0o0
As the corpse of a empousa faded into motes of light, I held back a grimace. Four fights in and I was a bloody mess. The dracaena's tail had bruised my ribs, maybe even cracked some. Then the hellhound had clawed me a few times and even managed to bite my left forearm. Following that, a cyclops and then the empousa had managed to deliver more cuts, bruises, and other assorted injuries. I could only see from one eye due to a gash on my forehead causing blood to flow into my vision, I was limping on one leg, I could only effectively use my right arm, and my beat up mid-section was making it painful to breathe. And I still had one more battle left to fight.
Standing once more in my starting area, I did my best to regain my energy and prepare for the final battle. Closing my eyes, I took slow deep breathes while trying to ignore the pain in my lungs. Due to this, I didn't hear as the door opened up, only coming back to awareness as the crowd gained a level of ferocity and excitement I'd yet to hear. Opening my eye, it took me a few seconds to realize that standing across from me was a person. Looking to be maybe fifteen years old and covered in scars, he stood tall and strong, giving me a look somewhere between pity and disgust.
Eventually, he shook his head, "I'll make your death quick and painless. Son of War or not, a child like you cannot have done anything to deserve the arena."
Narrowing my eye, I caught my balance as I stumbled in place, "Who are you?" I slurred out.
"The coliseum champion, four months running," was the response. Hefting his sword, he met my eye, "I am Mason Augustine, grandson of Enyalius, minor god of war and son of Ares."
Unsure how to respond to the person I would either kill or die to, I settled for adjusting the knuckles on my hands in preparation for the fight. Seeing my actions, Mason adjusted his own grip. As he did so, I closed my eyes one final time to take a last deep breathe before battle. As Titus called for the battle to begin, I bent my legs and tried to force more adrenaline through my body.
Opening my eyes, I saw Mason had already covered half the distance separating us. Grimacing, I barely avoided the slash of his sword, only to get bashed in the side by his shield. Knocked to the ground, I rolled on instinct, just managing to avoid my death. Coming to a stop, I found a spear and shield next to me. Blinking, I tried getting to my feet only to fall back as I avoided another slash. Grabbing the spear, I swung it on instincts only to feel the satisfying sensation of knocking my opponents legs out from under him. Stumble-crawling over to him, I punched him in the chest and felt something crack before he managed to knock me back with his shield once more.
Landing with an oomph, I spent a few seconds dazed. Luckily, my punch seemed to have done some damage to Mason, making him unable to take advantage of my weakness. Grabbing the shield beside me, I slowly got to my feet, pausing as my vision grayed. Lifting the dracaena's shield with my right hand, I watched as Mason stood back up as well.
He spat out some blood as he glared at me and wheezed, "That was a pretty good punch. Broke at least one rib and put a few holes in my chest." Giving a hacking cough, he continued, "You've definitely shown the vigor and passion of your father, so you can die with your pride."
This time when he swung his sword at me, I clumsily deflected it with the knuckles on my left hand. Swallowing the agony of the maneuver, I swung my shield as hard as I could to intercept his own. Hitting it at the right angle, I dragged his shield away from his body. As the tug on his arm got too strong, he was forced to drop his shield. Unable to maintain control of them, I dropped mine as well, noting in my peripheral vision as they sailed away.
As he brought his sword back around, I dropped to the ground in an effort to grab the spear laying there. However, as I lifted it, Mason brought his sword down on the spear's haft, snapping it in two. Following the maneuver with a kick, I felt my nose snap at the impact as I went tumbling backwards.
Stunned from the blow, I scrambled backwards blindly, hoping to avoid any followup attack he might make. Closing my eyes, I prayed, Father, please, give me the strength to continue fighting. As I opened my eyes, I noticed that despite the agony of my body and blood I had lost, my vision was no longer going gray and movement was no longer a challenge.
Surprised by this sudden change, I almost missed it as my hand fell on something metal. Blinking at the spear, it took me a second to remember that I'd entered the coliseum with one before throwing it away to antagonize the dracaena. While her spear had been snapped, this one still remained. Grinning, I gripped it with both hands, before standing and spinning.
With a yell, I felt the spear make contact with Mason's sword, the surprising force of my attack enough to cause him to drop it. Letting go of the spear on the follow through, I gave a savage scream as I lunged at him, punching him as hard as I could. Due to the difference in our size, I was unable to hit his face, but I felt the give of soft tissue as I collapsed his windpipe with brass knuckles.
As he fell to the ground choking on his blood, I felt my surge of energy give out and fell to my knees beside him. As he grasped futilely at his bloody neck, unable to breathe, I felt my good eye widen as I realized what I'd just done. This man was going to die. Because I killed him. Killing monsters was one thing, even the more intelligent ones like dracaena or empousa; all they wanted was to kill anything related to the gods after all. Humans though, that was different.
Still, as I watched him choking to death, I remembered his promise. To make my death quick and painless. Even to let me die with honor in glorious battle. The least I could do was return the favor.
Picking up his sword, I turned to face him, "Mason Augustine, you fought with passion and glory. May you find an afterlife to suit your dreams."
And with a stoic frown, I cut off his head.
0o0o0o0o0
It was two days after the battle that I woke up. Grimacing, I looked around, finding myself to be in what seemed to be some kind of infirmary. As I tried to move though, I found my arm chained to a post. Still, the rattling of chains and whatever other noises I made seemed to attract the attention of someone as a young man walked out of a room off to the side of the infirmary.
He stood at about five and a half feet tall and had blond hair. Dressed in the guise of a typical doctor, it didn't change the fact that he appeared to be maybe sixteen. The other thing of note was the collar on his neck. Giving me a quick look-over, he nodded, "Good. You're awake. You took quite a bit of damage during your fighting, I wasn't quite sure how long it'd take for you to wake up. Truthfully, I figured it'd take at least another day."
Groggily blinking at him, I tried to shrug, "I'm stubborn. Anyways, who are you? And why aren't you chained up as well?"
"I'm Ace," he said. "Son of Asclepius, god of healing. I don't have a chain because I behave myself."
I narrowed my eyes, "So you just give in to your enslavement. Pathetic."
Giving a careless shrug, he responded, "That's one way of looking at it."
"Oh?" I inquired, "And how else would you look at it?"
Tilting his head, he gave me a curious look before answering, "Well, I can't fight. So, if I tried to fight back they'd kill me. Or probably stick me in the arena against someone like you and have them kill me. Or, I suppose, they'd just channel enough electricity through my collar that my body shuts down and I die. On the other hand, if I do my job as a healer and follow orders, I'm given a certain level of freedom and autonomy. I'm still a slave, but I have more freedom than most of the rest."
"There are other slaves given some freedom?" I asked.
Giving a wry grin, he gave a little half shrug, "Well, there's one other I'm aware of. Kid named Beckendorf, son of the Forger. He's about your age; only been here a couple months, but he's prodigiously talented at forging things."
"I see," I said. "And they don't make you fight because you're more valuable elsewhere."
Nodding, he walked over to a cabinet and pulled out what looked like food. "In my case, my affinity for healing is too useful for them. For instance, without me you would have died from your injuries. However, since I was able to save you, you'll be able to continue making money in the coliseum. The money you make for them in battle is far greater than whatever meager value my fights would be worth. So I get to live as long as my healing remains valuable."
As he poured a couple different liquids into a glass, he continued, "As for Beckendorf, well, forging is a valuable skill. Better weapons and armor will make the fights look better, increasing their value. At the same time, he can create superior weapons for the guards and Xanthos's men to arm themselves with to better secure the coliseum. Then, of course, he can ensure the collars which keep the slaves in line remain effective. At least, that's the hope. He's still young, so it's more of an investment at the moment, with the hopes of a worthwhile payoff in the future."
Turning around, he brought the glass over to me, setting it on the table by my bed. Placing a straw in it, he changed topics, "Nectar, water, and a few types of medicine. Drink this over the course of the next few hours and you should be good to go by the evening."
I nodded, before thinking about what that meant. Pausing before I could take a drink, I gave Ace a sharp look, "And then what?"
Pausing in turn, he slowly turned to face me, giving me a critical look as he did so. Meeting my eyes for a minute, he eventually answered, "That's up to you. Like it or not, that collar makes you a slave. If you annoy any of the people here, they'll have you electrocuted unconscious and then punished suitably. Considering what I've heard about your temperament, that seems fairly likely. On the other hand, if you manage to calm down and show at the very least Titus and Xanthos the respect they desire, you could be given a certain level of freedom as well. Mason had been granted some during the last couple of months, even being given permission to take pleasure from some of the slaves and occasionally being invited to spend the evening with one or more of the patrons of the coliseum."
0o0o0o0o0
A couple hours later, the door to the infirmary opened to admit Titus and Xanthos. Holding back a grimace, I tried to appear uncaring as they walked over to me. Titus stood tall in front of me while Xanthos held a loose grip on his spear, standing at Titus's side.
Titus opened with a benevolent grin, "Wonderful performance Diomedes. Your display in the coliseum was the most glorious we've seen in years. From the skilled fights at the beginning to the mad rush for survival at the end, you put on a show for everyone."
Holding back the vitriol in my head, I simply blinked at the man, "Thanks."
While the response had Xanthos snearing, Titus merely gave a small laugh, "Ah, Ace truly is a good kid. Heals up my fighters and ensures they understand how the world works. You don't look like an obedient kind of person. And, as our first meeting showed, you don't have much respect for others either. Even still though, you're trying to act the way you think I want you to in order to be given better accommodations."
Seeing a sneer begin to form on my face, he clapped his hands, "Ah ah, don't break yet, I was about to give you your reward. Your cell has been upgraded into a proper room. While in the room, you won't have any chains binding you. Whenever you leave, however, the chains will be reapplied. If you behave yourself over the next couple of months, we'll see about changing that."
Seeing me maintain my silence, Xanthos prepared to intervene, only to be cut off by Titus once more, "Also, we'll see about getting you a proper weapon, rather than those stock weapons you had to choose from last time. I'm sure Ace told you about Charlie, so when you get out of here, you'll be escorted to his workshop so you can work with him to commission some proper weapons for you fight with. Every six months you live through, we'll get you some armor as well."
Objectively, everything he offered me was a better deal than the base slavery I'd been consigned to. From Ace's explanation to Titus's offer, it was all an improvement on my current situation. Still, I'd never bow to my own enslavement.
"Go fuck yourself."
And I spat in his face.
0o0o0o0
And so ends the first chapter.
The Enslavement of Diomedes Black.
This arc will encompass a few chapters and cover about seven years. Naturally, there will be timeskips.
Also, as you might have noticed from the content on this story, this story will be on the stronger end of the M rating. Consider this the only trigger warning. Bad shit will happen. If bad shit triggers you, don't read this story.
Anyways, I'm returning to my roots with this story, PJO was the first fandom I ever wrote for. If you want the horrifying evidence, check the link on the bottom of the profile page.
If you're looking for an update to my HP/Sekirei story, don't worry, I'm working on it. Actually doing quite a bit of work on it. However, I primarily work on this at school while I work on Freedom of Apathy at home. Due to my current schedule, that gives me far more time for working on this. Not that it's a significant amount of time, but that's life. I'm currently taking 18 credits including Differential Equations and Human Development. My free time does not exist.
So yeah, don't expect any updates for a while, although I do hope to have a few ready by spring break. Maybe sooner if we're all incredibly lucky.
January 23, 2018.