Merlin P.O.V.

Nico only got worse over the next two days. Percy and Annabeth became even more anxious and frustrated as morning turned into the late afternoon. I watched as Annabeth mixed herbs beside Gaius. She picked up medicinal cures quickly, far quicker than I. Occasionally, Nico would call out and Percy and Annabeth rushed to his side.

"Pull through it, Nic," Percy whispered, "Like you pushed me through the River Styx. Push through this." Nico did not resurface from the depths of his nightmares but tossed the blankets off. Percy sighed and turned away from the bed like to see his friend in that state was poisonous.

Annabeth growled and yanked another book from the shelves as well as from the pile I had collected from the archives. I didn't have a job that could help the poor boy so I had been fetching clean water, food, and research. So far I had found nothing worthwhile. Of course I had told Gaius and the demigods about my dream of Morgana and the white-haired man, Pallas.

"You mean Morgan Le—Morgana is working with Pallas?" Annabeth asked, her voice quiet. She was sitting on the floor, absent mindedly brushing Nico's sweaty hair back. His trivial injuries were taken care of. A strange, malodorous ichor was coated over his cuts, and his ribs were bound.

I shook my head, "No, it was more that she was working for him."

"But I thought she was more of a boss lady than a follower?" Percy said.

"That's true," replied Gaius. "But when given the choice of power over your enemies, one may take the lower road. It was probably a more viable path than making a very powerful enemy?"

"You think so?" I asked, and Gaius nodded curtly.

"Have you ever heard those names before?" A voice asked from the doorway. I internally scowled when I saw Mordred in his chainmail. Damn door was supposed to creak. Traitor.

"What names," I tried to ask without too much venom in my voice.

"The names he has been mumbling every minute." He indicated the supine boy. As if on cue, Nico began to mutter vehemently, "Myth… myth… myth-ist-mng."

Annabeth shrugged lethargically. She hushed the boy and stroked his forehead until Nico fell back into a fitful silence. "I've never heard of the name Myth. Or why he would be saying tiger."

"Well, it's most likely not tiger. Something in Greek not-myth-mythology that has a similar name? Something close to the titans?" Annabeth looked at Percy doubtfully so he tried again. He snatched a piece of parchment from the table and started scribbling letter combinations. "Myth right? So Myth, nyth, bith, sith? No, okay. In a groaning voice—could be—mix, nyx, fix—"

Annabeth slammed her hand on the nightstand and jumped up, earning a startled, subconscious grunt from Nico. "Nyx!" she exclaimed. She rushed over and snatched the parchment and charcoal from Percy. "Nyx,-what were the other names Nico muttered?"

"Nyth, I believe. Haither, Erlus, chimera."

She began scribbling furiously, actually ripping the parchment in places.

"Annabeth? What is it?" Percy asked tentatively. She observed her writing a moment more then pointed to each name as she read them aloud, "Nyx, Aether, Erebus, and Himera."

Mordred, Gaius, and myself stared blankly at her. I figured Percy would at least get it too, but he was transfixed on the paper without any sort of comprehension. Annabeth scowled, but I could see she was delighted at figuring it out and having to explain it to us. She seemed to get off on being the smartest in the room. "The primordial? Nyx was night, Erebus was darkness, Aether was light, and Himera was day."

"Were they gods?" inquired Gaius.

"Not really," she said uncertainly. "They were closer to Titans than gods, but they weren't really titans either. They just were. They were before Ournanos and Gaia. First came Chaos then came Night and Darkness who created Day and Light."

"But why would they be rising? And what is so bad about it?" I stated the obvious. Percy and Annabeth gave each other fleeting, furtive glances. I could see they had an idea but didn't want to alarm us.

"I don't know, but we should go—get fresh air." Percy said blandly. Annabeth cringed and grabbed hold of Percy's shirt, dragging him out of the door.

Without a word, Mordred and I followed them at a discrete distance. The two watched behind them for the first few corridors but, eventually, decided no one was following them. We tailed them outside to the training ground, but they stayed close to the wall so Mordred and I were able to hear them with a few well-chosen words.

"I don't think it is day and light that we should be worried about. There were more than four primordials, weren't there?"

I couldn't see, but I was pretty sure Annabeth nodded.

"Tartarus was one, wasn't he?"

"Yes." I heard Annabeth shift against the wall, her dagger digging into the stones. "But the primordials may not be as forgiving as the gods are. There isn't much about them. Even the archives on Olympus are vague about their nature."

"The gods are forgiving now?"

I heard a distinct clapping noise followed by an annoyed interjection. "Focus, Percy. They could be heartless beings that are hell-bent on controlling the universe once more, our friend is dying because gods know why, we are stuck in a legend, and the titan who was killed and skinned by my mother is having playdates with a psychopathic witch!" Annabeth hissed.

"If your mother killed Pallas, then why does she go by Pallas Athena?"

"Percy—"she began warningly then her impulse to be correct won out. "In the official slash public tale, Pallas was a nymph who was accidentally killed by Athena. Some say he was about to hit her and Zeus zapped him before Athena finished him off. The real story is that he was a titan who was allowed to roam free—don't ask why—and he committed many atrocities. My mother killed him, flayed him, and wore his skin as armor."

"Remind me never to get on your mom's bad side."


Gaius was still looking over Nico by the time I returned to our quarters. Mordred had gone his own way while I mulled over what we had heard. Something called Tantalus—no Tartarus—was rising along with his brothers and sisters who may or may not be insanely violent and wanting to take over the world.

I came by the old physician and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Why don't you go rest? I'll watch over the boy."

Gaius agreed silently and was soon in deep sleep on his cot. I took Nico's temperature and placed a cold-press on his forehead. Maybe some more peppermint.

As I turned away, a hand lashed out and grasped my wrist with much more strength than he should have. For the first time in two days, Nico's eyes were open. Black pits stared back at me as he caught his baring. He obviously thought he could trust me because, "they stole it."

"What?"

"They stole it. They need a second to make them rise." His voice was whispered, weak. He hysterically tried to explain and couldn't understand why I was so uncomprehending. "They don't want to rise, but he will make them. Gods, don't let him. Forbid him."

I was about to call for Gaius, but Nico's eyes rolled back into his head, his hand falling limp. For a moment I thought I had imagined the conversation but threw away the thought. With his eyes closed, the haggard boy said, "Move! The crystals are much more important than your pathetic lives, and my patience grows short."

"Nico?"

"Pallas, the crystals of Grisial are in place. With the Hunters' Moon approaching the crystals will be at full power. All we need is that sea twerp." I was starting to freak out. Nico was obviously not conscious or aware that he was talking, but—no, he was aware. That must be a conversation he had heard or… Percy mentioned that his dreams were often real: past, present, or future. name sounded familiar.

I gave Nico one glance to make sure he wouldn't flail off of the bed and went to the massive piles of scrolls. Something about Druid rituals. The Tuatha de Danaan Illyfr. By now it was at the bottom of the pile, but I found it easily enough. My hand hovered over the book and the pages fluttered open, flying to the page with a council of gods pictured below. The gods weren't important. It was the picture above them, of the creation of the universe and a glowing crown. Below the picture was inked writing with the description of the creation.

First was the Partholonians, the leader of which was Partholon. Partholon and his wife, Dealgnaid, came to the land already inhabited by Fomorians, the malevolent Irish gods. Partholon drove the blasphemers to the north, from where they returned periodically to plague the invaders. Partholonians developed the land, building the first building as well as forming the four plains, seven lakes. Eventually, all Partholonians were struck down by the plague. All except for Tuan mac Cairill.

Two hundred years later, the Fir Bolg arrived from their homeland Greece. The Fir divided the land into five provinces: Connacht, Ulster, Leinster, and two Munsters. A capital was formed, a place where the king of the kings would rule. But their sovereignty would not last. On the First of November, a time when the veil between worlds was at its thinnest, the Tuatha de Danaan came and fought a mighty war. Three kings of the Tuatha de Danaan brought their strengths together, the sky, the water, and the earth. Three crystals were welded to one, the power of the souls sacrificed. The Crystals of Grisial.

"The Razing of Camelot is near."


"Mordred. Mordred. Mordred!" it had started out quietly, but I was soon hissing in a shout when the you knight paid no attention. Mordred's concentration was broken and he fell from the beam he was balancing on.

"Merlin!" He shouted angrily. He was supposed to be practicing his foot work and balance.

I waved away his annoyance. "What do you know about the Crystals of Grisial and the power of souls?"

"Not much. Stories mostly."

I waved away his annoyance. "What do you know about the Crystals of Grisial and the power of souls?"

"Not much. Stories mostly. Wouldn't Gaius know more than me?" He face fell and he moved closer, whispering, "Why?"

"Nico last night," I explained about what I had heard and read. He, of course, already knew about the creation, but now that we knew of the Greeks and their deities, it changed our perspectives. "So what is the power of souls?"

"In theory, the power of the souls is a sacrifice one makes. Giving their life for the cause of something else. But it is forbidden by the ancient laws. It is up there with bringing back the dead."

"Which I did."

Mordred gave me a shocked look, but it changed to a strained smile. Of course you did, Emrys. You have an idea don't you.

"Maybe. I think I know what is wrong with Nico. Do you know where Percy and Annabeth are? I think Percy and Annabeth are in danger."

"He can't be hurt, Merlin. How much danger can he be in?"

"How long do you think Nico can survive without a soul?"


"What do you mean 'they stole his soul'?" Annabeth demanded. Her gaze was so furious, I thought she would burn a hole right through me. Her grey eyes thundered, making her gaze pure lightning. Percy, at least, was more stoic. But I think that was more of a veneer. From what I'd learned about him, anyone who threatened his friends and family were dead.

"I think they are trying to—raise the primordials using the strength of two souls."

"Isn't a sacrifice willing in a ritual like that?" Percy asked.

I wasn't sure and looked at Mordred, who said, "Will is a relative term. Anything can change your will. Threats, promise of power, pain, glory. And most sacrifices are not willing."

"And as far as I can tell," supplied Gaius, "is that his power or spirit has been taken. And as far as I know, the spirit doesn't have a will of its own."

"Then you don't know Nico," Percy grumbled. Gaius threw him a scathing glare. "What I mean is, Nico is one of the most stubborn people alive, and even his soul slash power slash spirit is bound to put up a fight. If, in theory, one was to go into Morgana's camp and find his so-called spirit, I could then, again in theory, release it?"

"I don't see why not—" Gaius began, but Annabeth exploded into a defensive tirade.

"Don't—you—dare, Jackson. You are not sacrificing yourself on the slim chance that you could find Nico's spirit not to mention that even if you did find it—and I'm not sure you could—you could still free it."

"Annabeth, if there is a chance I can save Nico, I'm going to take it."

"I care about him too, but—"

"I promised Bianca I'd take care of him. Letting his soul be sucked into the never-ending pit of Tartarus is not taking care of him! Letting him be a sacrifice to some crazy witch-bitch is not taking care of him." He growled. Annabeth didn't back down but gave him the sharpest scowl. Percy stayed in his place, leaning against the table in Gaius's chambers.

I probably should have kept my mouth shut, but instead I asked, "Is that what Tartarus is? A pit? I thought he was a god."

"He's both. He's basically an equivalent to your version of Hell but worse, much worse. All monsters go there after being 'killed.'" Annabeth made quotation marks when she said the word killed. "He is the place where Kronos's essence is scattered. The prison of the Titans."

"But is he's a prison guard—or prison himself, then why would it be bad if he rose?" Mordred inquired.

"He's not just a prison or prison guard. He is the darkness of our world. He's also sleeping but if he wakes up, he will be more powerful than the gods."

"Then we have to stop it." Again, I felt as if I needed to state the obvious. But our planning had to wait for another time because a prat began screaming my name throughout the castle.

3rd person

The camp was filled with soldiers. Every entrance and strategic view point was covered by a Saxon soldier with armor and weapons. Also a drink in every hand, so their minds weren't as in control as it was at first perceived.

A boy with black hair, almost as black as the sky around him stepped from the trees and onto the path made by the thousands of soldiers. Percy wore no armor and had concealed Riptide inside of his jerkin. His hopes were that the Saxons had never seen a pen before and would, therefore, leave it alone. He was immediately seen by the guards with torches and a brazier.

He held his arms out, level with the ground, and kept walking. His face was void of any emotion and showed no fear when the Saxons jabbed at him with their swords. "Take me to Pallas."

As the soldiers marched the son of Poseidon to the command tent, Percy memorized the route. Front entrance, straight ahead, left, then right. Big tent with red flags. The sentries, none too kindly, shoved Percy through the flap and laughed as he lost his footing and landed in the dirt.

"Percy, isn't it?"

Still the same creepy voice. Percy thought it safer to just nod.

"What brings you here, boy? You were much safer in that castle you mortals seem so fond of. Not by much, but safer than here." His chilling smile sent splinters shooting down Percy's spine. But he refused to shiver, refused to give Pallas the satisfaction. The boy's refusal to give any reply unnerved the titan. "What do you want, Sea whelp?"

Finally, Percy replied, not hiding the anger in his voice, "Let my friend's soul go."

"Oh, what a clever boy. Figure that out all on your own?" Percy turned to see a beautiful woman standing in the doorway. Her hair was tangled, her face smeared with grime, and her eyes were void of any emotion but loathing, hate, and want.

"Morgana I presume." It wasn't a question. But the woman smiled and spread her arms wide.

"I take it you talk about me in the halls of the citadel?"

"In the cemetery, actually. Where they think you belong," Percy quipped then fell back to the ground with a pain lancing up his head. He cried out, momentarily caught off guard.

"Morgana!" sneered Pallas. He didn't sound to worried for Percy, but more for his soul. If she should kill him accidentally, it could be years till another demigod came along. Or until they unmasked the mysterious Emrys. Morgana shrugged with a smirk plastered to her once beautiful face.

"No need to fear, Pallas. The boy is fine." She sauntered over to Percy and held his chin, forcing his eyes to rise to her face. "I should imagine you share an image with the Lord of the Sea. Such green eyes. To bad, they will be gone to the world." She hissed.

Percy pulled away from him and defiantly got to his feet. Calm down. I need to keep my feelings in check, he chided himself. But he breathed slowly and concentrated on Annabeth. "If you don't let Nico's soul or whatever it was that you actually took, then I—will—destroy you."

Morgana tried to hide it, but Percy saw the flicker of uncertainty and fear. But it was soon replaced by arrogance. Pallas chuckled amusedly, "Morgana, why don't you find our guest a place to stay? He looks tired."

"Yes, Morgana. Do what you are told." Percy goaded. Morgana lashed out, intending to slap him and slice his cheek with her rings. The only thing that hurt was her hand. Percy stood, smirking, having not moved an inch.

Pallas noticed this. He jumped up from his throne and roughly spun Percy around. He forced Percy to turn his head, scanning his cheek. "Huh. It seems we have found the descendant of Achilles."

"I'm—I'm not the descendant of Achilles..."

"You share his gift."

"No, I bathed in the River Styx. In order to fight Kronos, I had to become as invincible to him as he was to me." Percy paused for dramatic effect. "I won."

"Morgana. Take him away. Lock him up!"

"I'm not your lackey, Pallas. Remember—"

Pallas' eyes burned with cold fire. "DO NOT GIVE ME ORDERS, WITCH!" he thundered. "I am more powerful than you EVER could be! Now, take—him—away."

Instead of grabbing Percy, Morgana sneered and turned her back on the titan. Pallas made no sound or any indication that he recognized her act of defiance. He stayed in his place even after regular sentries came and chained Percy's hands above his head. He was placed between two trees and a fire right in front of him.

Before leaving, the captain yanked Percy's head back painfully and growled in his ear, "Four guards. Two behind you, and two stationed before the fire. No escape for you, pagan." And he left Percy to listen to his thoughts.