The battlefield was the picture of death itself. Men were spread out across the grounds at grotesque angles. All were dead. Some had a sword hanging from a rib, while others had their innards spewed across the ground beside them. A boy barely the age of twelve had an arrow straight in his forehead. Survivors searched the grounds for loved ones. The only survivors were the strongest and the cowardly, but that did not stop them from at last coming together. Blood stained the grass to a blackish hue in the greyish dawn light. So many were dead and there was still no sign of the High King.
Silena of Delphi was holding a damp cloth to Prince Charles's head. Charles groaned and winced as the alcohol touched his wounds. Third-in-command, Thalia, stood sullenly in the corner. She had been counting the dead with one of the King's Companions, but it was hard to see comrades so still and limp. Now, the huntress could not speak, for her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth. The woman knew that if she opened her mouth to speak, tears would spew from her eyes. She could not think of the death of Charles, the only man that she had ever come to see.
"Why must it be so that every good man is hurt the most?" Thalia asked silently. Silena looked up from her work. Her kaleidoscope eyes focused into a murky brown, before flashing into another array of colors. She cocked her head to the side and gave her glossy hair a whip.
"It is probably because horrible monsters, such as Darius, feed off their souls until they are reduced to clay. Moldable and formable into anything you aspire for." Silena's words were laced with a bitter sound.
They were silent for a moment, and then Thalia spoke. "I'm sorry for accusing you of a falsehood. You are not a witch, but a prophetess." The other woman nodded and faced Thalia. The prophetess actually studied Thalia for the first time. When the woman commander was not throwing electric bolts at Silena, her gaze was calm and steady. Her blue eyes flashed between an electric blue lit with anger and a beautiful dark, blue that was peaceful but watchful. Her black hair had grown long that was held in a tight braid. A silvery glow circled around her and made her more subtle and surreal. She was truly beautiful, given she wasn't throwing a spear into one's heart.
"You'd perhaps hold a man's eye of interest if you actually let your braid undone." Silena spoke, but her eyes held a mischievous glint within them.
"And I suppose you are a particularly smart daughter of Aphrodite." Thalia chuckled and looked to Charles. Her laughing was stopped by a hard swallow. Her eyes filled with tears she could no longer contain. Silena felt her own tears prickle within her eyes. The lump in the back of her throat exploded and tears blurred her vision.
Charles moaned and winced in his stupor. The two women could only watch with sorrowful filled eyes. The High King was missing, lost or dead. Charles was barely breathing and a horrible fever was beginning to burn up his skin. Silena could not see what the future held. For once in her long and brutal life of visions, she could not see the one person she desired most to see. She had seen the death of Charles and had accepted it. But the King… She could not see anything or even feel her intuition. There was nothing. If the King was dead, then the kingdom would fall behind him. The prophecy had said if the King was to die, the nation was as well.
Greece had forgotten what it was like to live without their High King at their head. If Perseus was dead, the nation would be forced to surrender to the heir of the High King. The heir was Charles… If Charles was to die in this war, it would be another one. But the heir of the High King would not be Prince Charles, because he was already dying. Silena was stuck in her thoughts when the shout interrupted her thoughts.
"THE HIGH KING LIVES!" Shouts of joy and mirth spread throughout the final survivors. Silena and Thalia looked at one another with joy. They rushed outside the tent and onto the open field. Two soldiers helped the King across the barren field. And in that instant, Perseus collapsed. Thalia was already at his side. She pulled his head into her lap. Silena came quickly as she could, but she knew once she reached him the King, he would have no chance.
"My lord." Thalia was crying openly. Her tears drenched the sides of her pale face. As Silena knelt beside Thalia, her heart beat slowed. The King was dying.
Perseus was breathing shallowly. His jacket, tunic and chain mail were all torn from his bloody and scabbed skin. A horrible, bloody wound in his abdomen bled black instead of red. Even his great sea green eyes had become dull and murky. Silena laid a hand onto his heart; it was beating very soft against her palm. She wiped away a tear that came from her eye.
"Perseus, can you hear me, my lord?" Perseus looked to her and struggled to sit up. The two soldiers took his arms to help him. The King smiled weakly at Silena.
"I'm dying Silena. I'm not becoming deaf." He coughed and blood spewed across his chin. His face was ashen and grey, but he still sat up to meet her eyes. Silena became almost as pale as the King. Her eyes widened and her breath intake became increasing more than normal. The men that had gathered around the King did not notice, nor did Thalia or Perseus. The vision gripped her with a force so mightily she could not control it.
It flashed across her eyes like an explosion. There were so many she could not grasp one. Then the final one landed amongst her eyelids for a second longer than the others. It was Perseus…a knife…Queen Annabeth… The pain became too great, but yet another vision slammed into her with the impact of a charging horse. As she cautiously watched, it became the fork of another vision! A forked prophecy? Why, it had not happened in centuries.
None of it made sense, except for one thing. Perseus must not die. Lady Silena tore her eyes open from the visions and looked to the High King. He spoke in quiet tones, but she could see he grew weaker. He will not die. She brought her hand forth, calling upon Apollo for healing powers, and set it upon his chest. "You will not die, my lord. This will make you come back as one of the gods. Invincible." Perseus tried to speak, but his breath was taken from him and his eyes stilled. The great king was dead.
Thalia froze. The remaining men of the King's army had been kneeling quietly around the small group. Now, choruses of anguished and angered cries were released into the air. Screams and vicious insults were thrown, swords were pulled onto brothers and boiling anger was unleashed. Thalia, the only one who could have stopped it, was frozen and speechless. Silena waited in the chaos of it all for it to stop. The two women were in the eye of a hurricane, while the great storm twisted around them.
Chaos finally forced itself into Thalia. She blinked and tears filled her eyes. The King still laid in her lap. His great green eyes stared at the sky blankly. They would see nothing ever again, the huntress thought sadly. She wiped the back of her arm through her tears and looked at the war starting to break out behind her.
"Have you forgotten already?" she asked in a deadly quiet tone. No one had heard her, of course. She hadn't expected them to. Thalia swallowed her anger and tears, looked up to the heavens and prayed to her father. "Father do not forsake of me. Have you forgotten who your King was?" Thalia screamed across the field. Her voice projected itself all the way through the barren fields of the dead.
The soldiers stopped fighting and looked to her. They cocked their heads at her. "Have you forgotten that your King took his life for you? Have you forgotten that he united you so brothers would no longer fight? He did it for you! You slovenly, pigs! You disgust me! Every single one of you are horrible, conniving swine." Thalia's words were sharp and angry. They sounded like the voice of Zeus. They were so raw and powerful, no man would have denied Thalia at that moment.
"Thalia," Silena whispered silently to her. The huntress gave the lady a glare of hostility. Silena touched the cold forehead of the King. He was growing warmer within. Her heart began to beat faster; if the King came back no war would start. He could not die. It echoed in her mind like a bell. It was sharp and clear like a piece of glass, fresh broken from the bottle. She could not let him die.
Perseus
Life. It was so short. Everything was so simple. Perhaps the answer to life had been there all along. He had been so selfish with her. He had not released her, but kept her to himself. He made her into what he wanted her to become. He had changed her into his own creation. She was not meant to be that way. Then the serenity collided with pain. It lit him on fire and burned through him like a match. It exploded like a time bomb across his heart and chest.
Peace turned into fire. Thoughts turned into agony. Everything contorted into a deep burning anger and sorrow. He screamed, but he could not even hear it. Then the pain subsided only to a burning flicker. And then it too, was gone. It all was replaced with blackness. An emptiness so cold and dark opened up to him. A void and blackness vast and endlessly carved itself around him and he was lost.
He thought of only one thing-Annabeth. Her name was like the greatest beacon in the heavens. It created a massive light that turned into a silver flame. He shielded his eyes, but he did not wish to. Annabeth was with him at that moment. He could feel her. He could touch her soft skin beneath his fingers. Her beautiful grey eyes that were so wild and angry they made him want to melt to his knees. The long blond curls she let loose across her strong shoulders. Those shoulders that he wanted to kiss and hold. Everything about her he craved turned into a burning passion and need.
Light from her spread around him; it made a path to the heavens. He felt the pain start to form again as he tried to near it. He fought it with everything he had. He fought it so greatly a form started to twist and turn around him. Skin layered itself onto his invisible spirit. A heart beat pounded in his ears; it was his. His dead heart was pounding in his ears.
It is not your time. We have tests for you yet Perseus of Argos. The voices were combined into three snake-like voices. They felt like snake tongues flickering all over his body and mind. They pounded into his head, making him ache in agony once more. He knew these voices. They were the voices of the Fates.
"As do we, Perseus." A clear voice cut through the darkness. The silvery light that Annabeth gave off still glowed brightly, but it dimmed as the darkness faded. The King stood in a cavern. It was round and wide like a circle. Water dripped down from long rocks hanging from the ceiling. The smell of old water and rock blew into his nostrils and whipped around his face. He blinked and felt his cheeks and face. He seemed solid and alive, but how was he to know?
Out from dark corner stepped Hades, Lord of Death. He smiled at the King and bowed slightly with his head. A dark sheet of black hair formed around his head, and a black obsidian crown lay atop his forehead. "Lord Perseus," he spoke.
Perseus kneeled, surprised he could do so. "My lord Hades, am I within your grasp?" Hades looked puzzled, but only for a moment.
"You are held on the cusp between the two worlds of living and dead. Just as the Fates had their tests, we have ours. If you wish to become invincible, godly, and unbeatable you must face the twelve tasks of the Olympians." Perseus hesitated. An eternity without Annabeth or twelve godly tests? There was no question.
"I will take your tests, Lord Hades." The Olympian smiled.
"The hour of your first test is upon you. Stand firm in your faith." He bowed and, in a spiral of black, dissipated into the air. A great light lit in front of him. Blue flashes of light seemed to snake around the man standing before him. His hand was wrapped around a large golden scepter and a large eagle sat atop his shoulder. Perseus went to his knees and kissed the massive ring that was on the god's finger.
"King Perseus," the god smiled at him. "I'm glad to see you are well. With time you will be godly…well if you can pass my task." His crown was large and shined brightly in the light the god gave off. The mortal King's stomach began to turn in unease. The way the god grinned at him made him feel anxiety and fear start to form in his chest.
"My lord, I hope you do not mean for me to…" The god laughed. It shook the whole cavern, making the rocks of the ceiling rock and sway.
"I do, Perseus." King Zeus drew a massive sword from his scabbard and held it to Perseus's face.
"You are stronger than you believe, my boy." Zeus smiled and swung his sword. Perseus slid Riptide quickly from its sheath and deflected the giant blade. He rolled as the god swung it at his abdomen. Perseus got up and felt his heart rate quicken; Zeus would hold nothing back. He closed his eyes in silence, trying to grasp something to focus on. His only thought that surfaced was Annabeth. Her beautiful smile and grey eyes. The sound of her voice. Her body wrapped inside of his that felt like a ray from heaven. He opened his eyes and focused on the god's sword.
The sword became the only thing he saw. Every other aspect of the world faded. He watched the great sword dart towards him. He rolled, parried, side stepped, dodged and leaped. The King did not miss one swing of the golden, flaming sword. He managed to slice a long cut into the colossal arm of Zeus. The god's muscle tensed and tightened in the pain. A long river of golden liquid spewed from the large split of skin. The god laughed and the cut began to knit itself together once more. Perseus breathing was already labored and uneven, but he rolled at Zeus's fourth attempt for the King's leg. The sword snagged his thigh; a searing pain burned through his entire muscle.
He realized the sword was not ordinary, but god-like. It was almost as if Zeus was wielding his power through it. That was the test! It was not that of fighting the god, so much as learning to channel his power into his sword. Perseus felt the bronze sword leap with anger in his hands. The sword wanted his command. The High King looked into his mind, focusing on Annabeth. Her name brought warmth and happiness to his thoughts. He would easily give up the world for her.
Power does not come from our hands, Perseus. It comes from within. Perseus looked up at Zeus he smiled secretly at him. "It comes from here." He put a fist over his heart. The young King felt a smile tug at his own lips. He felt a warm sensation run through his blood. It reminded him of when he was boy: his mother would bring him close to her. The fire would tickle his toes and make him feel warmth on the cold winter nights. He felt a tear spring from his great green eye. It slipped down his cheek and landed on the ground. The power within him that had been so raw and untamed was free. It spread through his body and into the sword, as he looked to the King of the gods he felt the sadness break and his soul leap.
"Thank you, my lord." The god became a blur as the tears swam in his vision.
"Perseus, it was not me, but yourself that defeated me. You must conquer the grief of your mother. It will hold you back from enlightenment."
"But my god, I do not wish to be a god." Zeus smiled at him.
"Being a god, my son, is not being given the power. It is something that is earned and won. It is through a man that faces victory as well as defeat. A King as well as a peasant. The hero and the coward. You are that man, Perseus. You are the chosen one of the gods. The next test is at hand, good luck, Perseus." Zeus winked and vanished into a flaming ball of fire.
Perseus stood with his hand still clutching the glowing sword. He wiped the sweat from his brow. He did not know who the next god would be, but he could only fear that it was his father. The ground beneath the High King's feet began to tremble, and the Earth cracking into two. The small stream that ran through the cave's small cavern began to bubble. As the stream grew increasingly larger and the water rose, Perseus knew his father had come.
With a giant blast, Poseidon rose from the water on the back of a pure white stallion. His steed pawed at the ground with anger and untamable fury. The sea god smiled at his son proudly. Tears of joy gleamed in the god's eyes. He stepped from the large stallion and walked to Perseus. He brought his son into him with an embrace. "My boy, I could not be more proud of you." Perseus smiled up at his father.
"A thousand thanks, my lord." His father held his proud smile on his face, but his eyes seemed to turn fearful.
"I must give you my test, my dear son. If I do not, the gods will never allow you to live once more. There is still work to be done to Argos and, as proud as I am of you, I want you to have a child." He looked firmly at the King. His green eyes mirrored the King's own.
"Yes, Father." The High King fell to his knees.
"Rise, Perseus, we have work yet to do. My task of you is to tame the stallion." Perseus looked at the great, white colt Poseidon had sat upon. The massive colt was twenty pous (that's roughly twenty feet) tall. His hooves were easily the size of the King's hand, his neck longer than Perseus's leg and his menacing eyes were bright with intelligence. The stallion did not wish to be broken nor trained.
"Father, moments ago you rode to me on this steed. Is he not already steadied if you rode him?" The sea god laughed.
"Perseus, I am the god of horses. I molded the sand and wave dust this stallion's mother is of. My test is if you, the son of Poseidon, may tame the untamable beast." The High King looked into the stallion's eyes that grew dark with warning as he stepped near.
What is your name, good horse? The animal reared and hoofed at the King as he came near.
Come no closer. Perseus touched the horse's back, but only to be bit on the arm. The animal's teeth pressed hard into the King's hardened flesh. King Perseus felt his own anger ignite, but held it as bay, for the sake of the animal.
Stallion, must you be so cruel?
I am not cruel, King Perseus. The stallion's eyes focused on the young king. If you were raised to hate the flesh of man, would you be as me? Distrusting of the man or would you give them your respect and trust as if you had known them the entirety of your life. I am only what man has made me.
Every muscle in the King froze; this stallion was taught to hate man. There was no ray of hope to breaking him. Perseus quickly scanned through his mind for a plan. He searched desperately and found one in the most unlikely place. It was a foolish idea, but it might just work.
With the agility and quickness of a fox, the King leapt onto the immense mass of the horse. The steed reared and the King grabbed hold of the long, iced cream mane. His arms hooked around the massive neck and felt power surge through him. As the beast reared once more, the young king brought his fists tighter around the stallion's neck. "I. Am. Your. King." His words were tight with force.
You may be my king, but I am no one's subject. The horse bucked, both brilliant long hindquarters streaked out from behind. He lunged forward down a long gorge; both man and horse struggled and fought as they fell towards darkness. As any animal would, the stallion screamed in the King's ear. The hooves of the animal flailed and dug at the air as they fell. Perseus dug into the sides of the gorge, but they did not slow.
"Must you be so ignorant, horse? Gorges are not for escaping, but death!" He flung his sword into the side of the rock wall, this slowed the pair's fall. He clung to it, for everything that his people were worth. "Put your hooves like a bridge across the channel! If you stop our fall I can reach the top, but you must do as I say." The King commanded to the beast. The great stallion only screamed once more and continued to panic. His name. King Perseus realized, the horse's name would give him power. Name's held power, regardless of whom they were of.
"Horse, what is your name?" He screamed above the whistling darkness. The only answer he received was a snap of stallion's teeth. "We are about to die, you stupid animal! What is your name, so I may save us?" The horse looked into the King's eyes. They were so dark and mean, but a beautiful soul was locked inside. The great beast was scared. Fearful of his life just as the High King.
"Tell me of your name and I will save us."
Ortagus.
As the horse spoke his name, the fall slowed. Time did as well, and the King now knew what was to be done.
I will not release you to death, Ortagus. The horse stopped fighting with vengeance, but this only quickened the slowing fall. Perseus found the power surging up his arms and into the palms of his large, powerful hands. High King Perseus opened his clenched fists and water poured from them with the force of a canon. The water smacked the bottom of the gorge rising the horse and King to the entrance of the giant crack. Slowly, Ortagus and Perseus both ascended up the cavern once more.
Once on the stone floor of the cave, Ortagus was calm and willed to whatever Perseus wished. He looked his father in the eyes and smiled at him. "He is tamed Father." Poseidon laughed and clapped his son on the back.
"You will do many a great feat, my boy! I know you will succeed!" He helped Perseus off of his great steed. With a laughing smile and rear of Ortagus, the sea god was gone. There were still ten gods with a task for him. How would he face them all?
