Here's a new story for you guys! Don't worry about the other ones. I will make sure to be finishing them as well. College is taking top priority for me right now though, so updates will be slow. This is only the prologue, so it will be a bit shorter in comparison to the chapters. The chapters will be six thousand to ten thousand words each. I already have the plot lined up for this, so things like polls to decide where the story goes wont happen. Without further ado, let's begin!
Prologue - Into the maw of Hell
Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you. When you look into an abyss, the abyss also looks into you.
-Friedrich Nietzsche
Percy found that there were many ways to fall.
One could fall over themselves, trip, hit the floor, and sport a bashful hint of red on their cheeks, as their nearby friends made fun of their clumsiness. One could fall off a ledge, grabbing a minor injury as they land, possibly even something major, like a fractured bone. One could fall in battle, fending off hordes of monsters, possibly for heroic reasons, possibly for a girl, possibly for the ever present though of "oh my Gods, oh my Gods, I'm going to die!"
Percy also found that these were all preferable to the current fall he was taking.
He supposed this was what he got for being greedy. Luke gave him a pair of winged shoes at the beginning of their quest, a gift that he was extremely grateful for. He briefly considered giving them to his best friend, Grover Underwood. He wanted to do it because he figured that Grover would be at an extreme disadvantage if they came to a fight. But then he considered his friend's status as a protector, and his status as a satyr, and though "hey, he'll be able to take care of himself. They wouldn't make him a 'protector' if he couldn't!". Instead, he gave Grover responsibility over the pearls that would teleport them home.
That was a grave error in judgement. The stupid winged shoes opened up, and dragged him down to Tartarus. He tried many a time to retract the wings as they dragged them along the ground. He supposed it made for an interesting scene, a twelve year old preteen shouting "Maia!" over and over as he got closer to the pit of the underworld. In retrospect, he actually preferred himself to be the one to have worn the shoes. He would never wish this fate upon Grover, or Annabeth.
He had been falling down this hole for a long time now. He didn't know exactly how long. He knew it was longer than a week, but not much passed that. Multiple times, he tried using the winged shoes, to no avail. The panic he had felt during the beginning of the fall had long since turned to resignation. He would either die when he hit the bottom, or die of starvation before that. He didn't know what happened when you died in Tartarus, but he didn't think it was a much wanted option.
Eventually, that resignation turned to fear and panic. His mind conjured images of his soul being tortured down here for all eternity, his sanity breaking from the pain like a window against a bat. He had prayed to every God and Goddess he could remember, starting with his father, going through each and every Olympian, praying to minor Gods, river Gods, then back to the Olympians. He had finished praying to Dionysus again, before realizing that the Gods either didn't care about him, or their power didn't reach him down here.
He didn't know if wanting the later option made him an optimist or a pessimist, but he found that he didn't quite care either way. He continued thinking about nothing, before his stomach rumbled again. Searching his bag, he took out his last bit of ambrosia. He could never eat much of the stuff at one time, it would kill him if he did, but he could eat a little. Given that he had no other alternative food sources, he didn't have much option. He almost popped the piece into his mouth, before stopping and thinking back to one of his lessons with Chiron.
"To commune with the God's, a chain must be made between you and them. This can be done with praying, but the chain is often strengthened by sacrifice..."
He hadn't much payed attention in that lecture, and didn't know the specifics, but he did know that campers would often sacrifice food to the fire during lunch and dinner. Not only that, but they often sacrificed the biggest piece of food.
"The more important it is to you..." Percy though "...the more likely they are to respond".
Perhaps it was desperation. Perhaps it was flat out fear. If he was thinking logically, he likely wouldn't have sacrificed his last, and only, piece of food left on a theory that he didn't know would work. Nevertheless, Percy took his lighter out of his bag, cupped his hand to keep the wind from blowing out the fire, and burnt the ambrosia. As he did, he prayed with everything he had.
"Anyone" he though "Anyone that can help me... please...". For a moment, there was nothing but the constant rush of wind. Percy almost lost all hope. Then, Percy saw something he hadn't since the beginning of his fall
Light.
Percy shielded his eyes, as the God's light before him nearly burned his retinas. Tentatively, he opened them to find a transparent image of a blonde haired man with a bow on his back staring back at him. Apollo.
Percy began to cry tears of joy.
"Cousin Perseus"
"Lord Apollo" Percy replied, wiping his eyes.
"We will need to be brief. Although your sacrifice has strengthened the bond between us, it will not last forever". Percy nodded in reply. He didn't know the exact magics behind communication between God and man, but he figured that if it ran on a type of fuel, someone's last piece of ambrosia was like running of fumes.
No time to waste, then.
"Can you get me out of here?" Percy asked.
"...The pits of Tartarus are strong. My image's personality here is already changed to something like my older, Greek personality because of it. The power required for a transportation would me more than what I have dominion over. To teleport someone is already a difficult task for me, unless they have some affiliation with the sun. My hands cannot reach the Underworld, let alone Tartarus". A thousand questions flooded Percy's mind from the speech. He ignored them, in favor of more important topics.
"Are there any other Gods that could do it?"
My father, if he was in a generous mood. Or Hades. But I do not think it possible for me to convince them". Percy knew he was right. Zeus hated him right now for "stealing the master bolt", and Hades was in a similar mood towards him, so that scratched those two out.
"...So there is no way, then..."
"Without any magical item to help us, no". Apollo said. Percy was silent, as his head lowered.
"Then I'm dead" Percy replied. Apollo looked at him for a while.
"To be banished to the pits of Tartarus is a fate worse than death. Man, Titan, giant, monster, and God alike are all trapped down there, unable to escape"
"That's reassuring"
"But that does not mean escape is impossible"
"It's escape-able?" Percy asked.
"Indeed. Though it is no simple task. The road you travel is one that immortals have failed to bear, let alone demigods... I will be frank with you. I am not sure I could do it myself"
"Then how on earth would I be able to?"
"You have... advantages that I do not. Tartarus is not just a place. He is a being, a primordial, stronger than God and Titan alike, born of Chaos, and tempered by it. Should I try to leave the pit, he would take notice. He would stop me. But you may be just weak enough to go unnoticed when making your escape".
"So your saying that I'm so unimportant, that he might not notice when I try and leave?"
"In a way, yes" Percy didn't know how to feel about that. Apollo continued, "He does not expect anyone of your stature to be able to escape. The beings down there make sure that non-immortals stay in their torment. But if you were strong enough to defeat anything down there, while also being weaker than an immortal, you might not draw his gaze".
"Okay... so that's my game plan then? Take down the monsters, don't let Tartarus catch me."
"It is not that simple. Among the pits of Tartarus lies many creatures of incredible power. You faced Echidna and Chimera on earth, correct?" Percy nodded, not sure how Apollo knew that, before writing it off as God knowledge. "Down here, they would be even more powerful. And others, such as the drakon's, put them to shame. You may even encounter Titans. To survive, you will need to be far more powerful. As it stands now, I am not sure you could defeat a simple hell-hound in Tartarus"
"Great. Well, I can't do much training till I get down there, considering my current situation. What do you suggest?" Apollo shook his head.
"While you will need to train, it alone will not suffice. You need powerful weapons, honed abilities, and the like. Until you can gain these things, it is best to lie under any monster's gaze"
"Powerful weapons? Abilities? Where am I going to get those?"
"Tartarus is an ancient place, older than I. There are many secrets down there waiting to be discovered. You will find what you need."
"But until then, I'm basically screwed..." Apollo looked at him for a bit.
"I can give you my blessing". Percy's gaze rose to the God's image. A blessing? He didn't know exactly what it would do, but it sounded pretty good. He briefly considered asking why Apollo was so willing to help him, before he mentally slapped himself for wanting to question the blessing of a God.
"What do I need to do?" he asked.
"To be blessed by a God, it requires a task, or another sacrifice. Is there anything left in your bag?" Percy nodded, opening his pack, and taking out his water canteen.
"My last bit of water" He said. Apollo looked at it.
"It isn't much... are you willing to part with your winged greaves?" Percy was confused for a moment, before looking down, and noticing that the tennis shoes were now a pair of celestial bronze greaves, with two white-feathered wings on either boot. He wondered at this for a moment, before passing it off as Tartarus changing the things around him. He looked back to Apollo.
"Not unless there's no other way. If I can find a way to make these things work again, they'll be invaluable down there". Apollo sighed a bit.
"The water isn't much... but it will initiate the bond between us. Casting this heavy a bond on such a small sacrifice will drain this image of most it's power. Our time to talk afterwards will be short. Stretch out your hand, and shield your eyes". Percy did so. There was a flash of light, and the water canteen left his hand. Percy opened his eyes. Above him was a glowing rune, similar to the one that appeared over his head when Poseidon claimed him as his son. It showed the image of an arrow crossing through a lyre, before it dissolved.
"My blessing upon you is weak, but a connection has been made" Percy nodded.
"What does it do?" Percy asked.
"Currently..." Apollo said "...very little. You are able to summon a weapon of my armory, Fosakopti, but you cannot use it to it's full extent. You also have minor power over the conjuring of light. Other than this, I cannot give you anything more". Percy nodded his head. If he could find a way to survive the fall, then a new weapon and powers would certainly help him survive down in Tartarus until he could find a way out.
Rather, if he could find a way out.
"Thank you, Lord Apollo" Percy said. Apollo did not acknowledge the thanks, but instead continued.
"To strengthen the bond, I require a task to be performed" Percy nodded in reply.
"What do you need?"
"Days after my birth, I slayed a great Khthonic drakon. Since it's death, it had been an enemy of my house. Upon each resurrection, it continues to wreak havoc upon my domain, killing my children, and destroying those blessed by me. Currently, it resided in the pit, waiting it's next resurrection. My task for you is this: Destroy the drakon's soul, and banish it from existence evermore"
"And this will strengthen our bond?"
"It will. From it, you will gain..." Apollo stopped, as his image began to dim.
"Perseus, I fade! To survive the air Tartarus, you must drink of the river Phle..."
Whatever was going to be said by Apollo's image, it didn't get to finish. The last of the image's power was spent, and it faded from existence. Percy spat a string of curses that his mother would slap him over the head for using. Following this, Percy realized he had absolutely no idea how to summon the weapon Apollo spoke of, nor how to use his newfound powers, nor how he would even survive the fall in the first place.
Percy spat a longer, and harsher string of curses at this.
Then, he kept falling.
Percy was asleep when he reached the bottom, and the only way he survived the fall was because of a suicide attempt.
The last light Percy saw was from Apollo, so his eyes had grown accustom to the dark yet again. When he reached the cavern of Tartarus, light flooded his eyelids, and actually woke him up. He had a second to register that he was now in a cavern, falling towards blood red clouds that loomed over the ground of the pit, and then he began to panic.
"Maia!" He shouted.
His greaves did not respond, nor did they respond when he shouted it again and again.
As Percy fell towards the floor, every fiber of his being screaming at him to do something, some back part of his mind briefly registered the size of the place. From this altitude in the cavern, he could see from end to end over the red clouds. The place could easily fit the island of Manhattan, with some room to spare. As Percy fell through the air, he reached the red clouds. His vision was obscured for a moment, and then he came out the other end.
Planes of black, shard like rock accompanied with a red mist greeted his eyes. Percy took in a breath, and began to panic more, as he realized what he was breathing wasn't air. In fact, he wouldn't be surprised if he was breathing some gas form of blood. It supplied his body, but he knew it would kill him in a few minutes. If he would survive the fall, that is. He looked around for any way to break his fall, any hill where he could catch an angle to lessen the impact.
There was none.
The only thing he could see was a river. A river of lava, no less. And there, racing towards his doom, with no air in his lungs, tired, starving, and with no hope, Percy let a darker side take him. He looked to the river, and thought to himself "No way out. All the trouble I went to with Apollo doesn't even matter. But, if I die, I want to die in water, like a true son of Poseidon . I don't really have that here, but that river seems like the best alternative".
"Who knows?" Percy thought, as he stretched his hand out and concentrated. "Maybe my water healing powers also extend to lava". It was a nice little last fantasy. Some child's hope to indulge before you die. Percy was actually surprised when a tendril of lava came swirling from the river, directly below him. He then felt a wave of exhaustion hit him. Percy closed his eyes, and thought of his mother and father.
He had braced himself for extreme heat when he hit, with blackness following it. Instead, he was nearly put into shock by how cold the river was. His eyes opened in shock, not a smart idea when in something so bright. He immediately closed them as he came sinking down. For a moment he was weightless, holding his breath in the river, still surprised by the lack of death.
He hit the bottom of the river. He tried to swim up, but found that the liquid was too thick. Furthermore, he found himself tumbling along, swept by the slow current. He grabbed onto a rock protruding from the base of the river, it's jagged edge cutting into his palm. Ignoring the pain, he slowly started to crawl along the riverbed, and to the bank. As he began to feel a slow ache in his lungs, he tried to get some kind of equilibrium.
He continued dragging himself, the glass-like stones of the river bed cutting along his body. The river's... lava? Whatever this was, seeped into his wounds, burning them as though it was liquid salt laced with acid. Slowly, as though he were moving in slow motion, he clawed his way through the river. His body burned, demanding oxygen. He still clawed. His muscles ached, demanding relief. He still clawed. His mind blackened, demanding rest. He still clawed. Eventually, he took a breath of the river, just to get something in his lungs.
That was a mistake.
Icy coldness wracked through his body. He threw up in the river, a mixture of bile and blood sweeping around him. It sank into the cuts on his hands and arms, burning them even more than the river did. Despite this, he did not stop crawling his way up. After what seemed like an eternity, his hand shot out into open air, and he sank his fingers into a pile of glass-like gravel. He pulled himself up, gasping the red-misted air.
He sat on the bank for a moment, his legs still submerged in the lava river, before dragging himself into a sitting position. He began to look around, still gasping. The place was cold, like he had suddenly been dropped into the Arctic. Added to that, it was dark. Though the river illuminated the surrounding area, It may as well been a pitch black night down here. Percy doubted any sun would rise over this place either.
Pillars of jagged obsidian rock shot out of the glassy surface of the ground, like bones sticking out of the raw flesh of a broken arm. The place smelled like a catacomb, as though even the dead had died and rotted to an extent no person thought possible. Despite the cold, the air burned Percy's skin, giving him blisters. He felt a slow burn in his body, and realized that this air would kill him if he didn't-
A snarling, black something slammed into him. They rolled, before the thing ended up on top of him, and began clawing away at him in a frenzy, as though it would get some kind of prize if it killed him in record time. Flesh ripped under the things claws, and Percy gave a pained shout, before getting a leg up, and kicking the thing away. It gave a wail, as Percy got to his feet and reached into his pocket.
Percy had a moment to realize that Riptide, his sword, was no longer a pen, and instead was a wooden hair-clip. He mentally groaned. Of course it wasn't a pen anymore! His shoes were greaves, his sword/pen was now a freaking hair clip of all things, he almost drowned in a not-lava river, and he was probably gonna die to the first monster he met out here! He stopped his mental tirade in favor of figuring out how to, firstly, not die, and secondly, figure out how to turn it back into it's sword form. He looked across at the creature, noticing that it was a black-feathered harpy. The thing did not resemble any kind of human, as many harpies did. Instead, it was some strange, bipedal raven thing with no feathers on it's twisted face.
The harpy growled, and began to circle him. Percy looked at the hair clip in his hand, trying to find some way to get it into a sword, before looking back up at the harpy. The creature then charged him. Percy, finding no other option, simply broke the clip in half, and swung. By the grace of some God or Goddess out there, as there was certainly nothing else watching his back right now, the leather hilt of Anaklusmos met his hand mid swing, and the celestial bronze blade sliced through the creature's arm, as it's form slammed into him.
The two were carried back to the bank. This time, Percy ended up on top, slamming his knee down into it's abdomen, and getting his free arm on the creature's... well, only arm. He raised Riptide, it's point at the things throat. It did not even register the threat, as it reached up, and clamped it's jaws into Percy's left shoulder. Percy gave a hiss of pain, and felt his collarbone fracture, before he plunged the blade forward.
In the struggle, Percy missed it's throat, but he did manage to slam through the harpy's sternum. It gave a wail as the blade passed through it's torso and nailed the monster into the gravel below it. Percy stood, and noticed that the thing had not turned to dust, as he was accustomed to seeing them do. Instead, it breathed haggard breaths, and looked at him with pure hatred. Percy was even more surprised to hear the thing speak.
"You will find no rest here, demigod!" it said in a shrill, nail scratching voice. "The pit's of Tartarus will claim your soul, and you will become our plaything to torture for the rest of eternity, while we await revival. Then, when we overthrow the Gods, we will drag them, and all your loved ones down here to-"
Percy interrupted the thing by grabbing the hilt of his sword, and tearing up through the creature's throat, and out the top of it's misshaped skull. Bits of gravel and blood arced off the tip of his sword, before he twirled it, and let it rest at his side. He wiped it's blood on his jeans, thank the Gods those hadn't miraculously changed on him, before looking back to his sword. He fiddled with the blade for a moment, before tapping it's tip, and watching in turn back into a now-reformed hair clip.
"Quite the welcoming party..." Percy thought as he tentatively touched his shoulder, which ached in pain at him. He watched with interest as the ground underneath the harpy swelled up, and claimed it. The creature sank, and Percy got a nice look at thousands of maggots appearing out of nowhere, eating the flesh off the harpy. In a matter of seconds, they already reached the things bones, before the gravel formed back over it, and it disappeared from sight.
Percy plopped back down in the gravel, not quite enjoying the sharp, rocky texture that met his butt. He began to realize he was shaking, and without really knowing why, he began to weep. He sat there for a minute, dried his eyes, licked his cracked lips, and focused himself.
"Alright!" Percy though "Let's focus up. Problem number one. The air is killing me. How to fix that?" Percy sat in thought for a moment, before remembering Apollo's last words to him. What did he say he needed to do to survive the air? Drink from the river Phle-something? Percy sat for a moment, before he looked to the lava river next to him.
Somehow, Percy knew that some kind of immortal was laughing at him.
"Well... I don't have many alternatives, do I?" Percy thought. He made his way to the bank, and slowly dipped his hand in. Even though he took quite the dip in the river, he was still instinctively afraid to touch it. As Percy's fingertips touched it's surface, he felt the same cold as before. He shook his head, released a breath, and plunged his hand in. He brought up a handful of the river's lava, some of it's glowing magma flowing off his pinky in a stream back to the river.
Slowly, he brought it to his lips, and sniffed. The stuff had no scent, other than sulfur and char. That only made him trust it even less. With a shaky breath, wondering if he was about to kill himself on accident, he downed the fire. Percy nearly threw up, as the stuff suddenly turned hot, and scorched down his throat, stinging everything on the way to his stomach, and finally settling as a low burn in the pit of his abdomen.
Somehow, me managed to keep the stuff down, as he felt the toxic effect of the air leave him. Lucky for him, though, the river had no other healing properties, leaving him with a flurry of injuries to tend to. In fact, the stuff seemed to take pleasure in causing him as much rend as possible. Percy's eyes welled up, this time with tears of pain, as he coughed, and tried not to vomit anything back up. Percy sat back against a large obsidian rock, and surveyed his situation.
He was in the hell of hells.
He was surrounded by, literally, millions of things that wanted to kill him, and nearly died to only one of them. Not only that, but it was one of the most minor creatures he could think of.
He had a fractured shoulder, dozens of cuts across his palms and arms, and some tears in the skin of his abdomen from the harpy attack.
He had no food.
He had no drink, other than this river.
He was armed with only a sword, and powers over water that he only had a rudimentary understanding of how to control.
He had a blessing of a God that he had no clue how to use.
He had no allies.
His friends were currently being entertained by Hades, for all he knew.
He very air wanted to kill him.
He was going up against monsters that some of the minor Gods would be wary to fight, Titans that could probably kill him as soon as they could blink, and one of the most powerful primordials in existence.
"Welcome to Tartarus" Percy though.
There's the prologue. Reviews, favorites, and follows are all much appreciated. Any questions that aren't too spoiler-y for the plot will be answered at the top of the next chapter. As always, have a good day!