I apologize for re updating. The story didn't post with the format I wanted and I just noticed now. Once again sorry.

A/N: Hello everyone. Another chapter is here. This time, I got a few interesting reviews so I'd like to reply.

. : Due to the variations in Greek Myths, I decided to pretend that he wasn't cursed with that fate. Why he doesn't remember will come later in the plot. Also, I like your name.

TyberAurora: I'm glad someone else remembers that show. I feel like the only one.

I'd also like to thank Hans50 for reviewing. If you haven't read his (I'm assuming he, please forgive me if I'm wrong) stories, I suggest you do. Two really really really really good pieces you don't want to miss out on.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed and favorited the story. Now enough of my blabbering. Here's the story.

Previously

Apollo coughed, ruining the family moment. " Well Perce, how do you think you're going to like it at the camp?"

Percy scowled again the mention of the camp. " The only reason that I'm being sent to camp is so that Zeus could have Dionysus watch me. It's a political move. He wants to watch my movements. It's a win-win for me however as it lets me spend time with my siblings," he said while tweaking Mira's nose ", and it lets me prove that I have nothing to hide from the Olympians. "

Hera looked sympathetically at her son " Well let's get you there as soon as possible. You'll want to visit your father right after, and pick your friend up before he goes crazy."

Percy nodded, and with that Hera flashed the two demigods to that gods forsaken camp.

Camp Half-Blood

"Pick yourself up."

Broken, confused, quiet, he has fallen, as he lay full length on the apartment floor. His head lifts; eyes boring into the apartment door, hoping, praying someone would arrive to take him away from the pain. A single blow, correctly positioned, could lead to his death now.

Blood rained from the gash on his head, given to him by the man before him, and trickled across his face. His right eye had been blinded; but as he squints sideways, he can make out the unraveled stitching of Gabriel's boot. The thread had separated itself from cheap leather; its hard knot connecting with his cheekbone, opening up another cut. The entirety of the left side of his face had swollen to immeasurable proportions, causing his face to lose its symmetry, perhaps permanently. The smell of crusty tobacco filled the air; the scent of alcohol wafted through his barely functioning nostrils. The raunchy stench of sweat rained from above, the emanation of blood could be seen below.

"Pick yourself up, boy!" Gabriel voice detonates down at him, working out where to pummel him next. He picks his head up a few centimeters, attempting to slither forward on his belly, trying to do it without exposing his fingers, on which Gabriel takes much pleasure in strutting. "Slither away you serpentine bastard. Where do you think you'll be able to go? " his step-father asks him, ambulating backwards, before gathering speed, then placing another kick.

The kick takes the breath out of him; he fears that it may be the last that ever will breathe His head returns to the ground, and he lies in wait, for Gabriel to end it all. The neighbors' next door dog can be heard barking. I'll miss my mother he thinks. The wailing of car horns and sirens are heard, down on the highway next to which he lives. He can no longer feel any pain, or maybe he feels so much it can no longer be registered. The pain is no longer separate from his being.

"Look at this" Gabriel clamors,. He dances about, on one foot as if it has been burnt. " Look at what you've done, boy. You broke my boot"

Centimeter by centimeter. Centimeter by centimeter he must move forward. Pay little heed to his words; never mind if he insults you, calling you mongrel, bastard, idiot. The head must stay down, don't provoke Gabriel. His nose is filled with blood, forcing him to open his mouth to breathe. The respite he gains from his step-father's momentary delay allows him the privilege to expel all the food in his stomach. His vomit covers the floor.

"Of course," Gabriel yells. " Of course, upchuck everything, on my carpet. Get up boy. Let's see you rise. By the blood of the seven sons of Christ, rise. Act like a man,"

Seven sons of Christ? he thinks. What could he possibly mean? Head turning sideways, his hair rests in his own vomit, the dog barks, Gabriel bellows, car horns blare. He feels a wave of movement, as if the floor beneath him as turned into water. He sinks into the floor, giving and swaying; he lets out one final breath. He hears Gabriel's voice in the background, but his ears close. Or maybe God had closed them for him. His eyes flutter as his consciousness floats downstream, giving way to the deep black abyss of his mind.

He awakes at noon, laying in a bed in a room similar to his. The swelling of his face had gone down, a paste applied to the cuts on his face. The pain has gone down to a bearable throb in the base of his skull. He looks down at the bed sheets, stained with the color of crimson red, the color of his blood. His vision in his right eye is still blurred, while the world seems to be stained with a platelet of reds. Blood still creeps into his eyes, the sun shines through the window. A woman walks through the door, carrying a water basin. He is shivering from head to foot, as if he came back from a swim.

The woman places the water basin down next to him, her hands empty she clasps his arm to shake him from his in-between conscious state.

"Did Gabe do this?"

He nods his head vigorously, unable to speak. Sprouts of blood leak from his nose to his shirt, an unclosed faucet of blood flowing onto the folds of his worn t-shirt. He points to himself, as if to say 'Gabe has been here'. The woman just shakes her head, wetting a cloth as she goes about her business, cleaning him up.

"He certainly knows how to go overboard. He does this again, there may not be enough left for me."

Left for her? he puzzles. He leaves the attempt to discern her words as his head erupts in bouts of pain. She places the wet cloth on his head, and he can feel his strength beginning to return to him. The wounds on his head close, no doubt leaving scars, but the trickling of blood stops. His vision begins to clear, the previously red-stained world returning to its original hues. He feels well enough to sit up, but the woman pushes him down again. He closes his eyes, waiting for his voice to return to him. He can feel the cloth pushing against his bruises, healing the clots underneath his skin. He opens his eyes when she finally removes the cloth from his skin.

He sees Gabriel standing next to the woman, kissing her neck. He attempts to escape but his arms and legs have been restrained when he closed his eyes. The world was painted red again, as the woman's knife descended repeatedly onto his chest. Some shallow, a few deep ; a napkin stuffed in his mouth preventing him from screaming out. The murderous glee in her eyes, the amused glare in Gabriel's eyes. The dancing light from the windows, the churning of the water in the basin below. His mind opened up, allowing him back into that painless abyss of darkness from before.

Percy wakes, breathing heavy, sweat pouring down his face. His bed is soft; the two siblings sleeping soundly next to him. The rise and fall of their tiny lungs, calming. He runs his hands over his shirtless figure; warm flawless skin adorns his chest and taught stomach. The patter of rain against the cabin's windows eases his breathing. The soft sounds of water running around the wooden planks placates his heart. The night reduces the strain on his eyes, accustomed to the darkness. His hands clenched the bedsheets as he swung his feet over to the side of the bed, still sweating heavily. His eyes passed over an intricate saltwater fountain continually spewing water in innocence, before finally resting on the interweaved floorboards of the cabin. His mind's eye shows him a young Percy, bleeding on the floor, bruised, unrecognizable. Percy rose from his bed and ran at the wall, pummeling it with as much force as he could; fingers dislocated, thick mahogany wood dented. He clutched his bleeding, broken fist as he crawled back into bed, weeping; crying himself to sleep.

Line Break

Perseus woke to the shaking and yelling of his younger siblings, dried tears still visible on his cheeks. Mira was jumping on the bed next to him, kicking his legs. Indra lay next to his face, his tiny fingers poking his older brother's cheeks. Percy grunted as his siblings tried to no avail to get their big brother up. Without Achilles' constant interjections into his sleep, Percy had devolved back to his original habit as an irritable waker. He would rise early, but not without throwing something at a wall first. Unfortunately, or fortunately, his siblings were too young and too cute for him to be irritable to. He had to be extremely careful when they woke him up. After what seemed like over half an hour of Operation Wake Big Brother, Percy finally gave into their demands that he get up. Percy winced as he rolled over, moving his still broken fist away from the view of his siblings. They were too young, too innocent to understand his pain.

"Alright who painted my toe nails pink?" Percy asked, eyeing his two child siblings, who were both trying their best to not break out in a fit of giggles.

"Hmmm you know what I heard the other day? There's a tickle monster going around getting kids who paint their big brother's nails pink" Percy said, grabbing his two siblings, pulling them in a close hug to his chest with his uninjured hand.

Mira lifted her head looking at her brother in confusion "But Percy, there's no such thing as a tickle monster."

Percy only laughed at her response, the same one he gave his mother years ago. " Oh yeah, then what's this?"
And thus he began a ferocious tickle war between the three siblings, while careful not to aggravate his injury.

Not before long, the three siblings lay back on their bed, wheezing and panting from the amount of tickling that took place. They looked at each other, smiles etched into their face.

"Enough fun, did you guys take your baths yet?"

"Not yet P." Percy's four year old brother Indra told him. Percy picked him up and handed him his towel.

"Well then go. Quickly! Before the tickle monster comes back to get you."; and with that the four year old son of Poseidon ran into the bathroom, squealing at the prospect of facing another tickle attack.

Percy grabbed his brown and black towel labeled with his parents insignias, heading towards the male part of the showers. He stopped and looked at his sister, who was getting her sea-green towel etched with a trident.

"You can take care of yourself in the shower right Mira?" He asked her, worry showing in his eyes.

Mira just rolled her eyes at Percy's overprotectiveness, something he got from both his mothers. "I'm 6 years old now Percy. I don't need help taking a shower. "

"Just checking. Don't spend an hour in there this time okay?" Percy said, referring to the long showers that Mira enjoyed taking.

"Percyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy" Mira complained, as Percy laughed, entering the showers.

Line Break

Percy dried his hair in the Hera cabin alone, as his siblings finished and left for breakfast already. When
he had first arrived in camp, he felt uncomfortable letting his two siblings sleep alone at such a young age, so he had requested his mother to let them sleep in his cabin. His mother had readily agreed, more than glad to have more children sleep in her previously empty cabin. They had moved the saltwater fountain to the Hera cabin, much to the protest of Chiron, who was overruled by Dionysus, who let them do as they wished with the fountain. There was a large amount of room in the cabin, but the siblings preferred to stay close together. After a few months he stayed so far at camp, he had grown used to the childrens' weight on his bed.

The waters from the shower healed his fist, the broken and dislocated fingers mended and moved back into place. Dents in the mahogany wood still remained however, a painful symbol of his anger. Ever since he had moved from Tartarus to camp, his dreams kept deteriorating to scenes of physical and mental torment he had went through as a child, or dreams of her. There was no break, they came night after night. He had told no one of the dreams. Apollo and Hestia may have healed his body, and his parents his soul, but his mind remained untouched. Ever since her death, his mind had troubled him greater than before . Nothing he tried managed to take away the pain.

As he walked out the door he was greeted by a puff of smoke. As he looked at the base of the stairs that led to the cabin, he was greeted by a sleeping Sama'el. The four foot long black dragon had wrapped itself around the base of the stairs, and was contently sleeping the day away. He reached down and gently rubbed the creature's head, as it slowly transitioned from the realm of Morpheus to the one they currently inhabited. The great beast lethargically opened its magnificent red eyes, and viewed the human before him; He lifted his head, and softly nuzzled the palm of his partner, his snout still setting off some final puffs of smoke.

You ready to depart for breakfast Sama'el? Percy spoke into the mind of his still sleepy friend. The dragon merely blinked his ruby eye in response. Sama'el rose, his long,black wings attached to powerful, broad shoulders. His overlapping scales gleamed in the sunlight as he shook himself from his slumber. His horned tail uncurled from the bedpost; his feet trotted, as the ground seemed to bow to the royal, magnificent creature. Despite his fright-inducing appearance, the tinges of a smile rested on Samael's snout. Gleams of silver shone from his armored belly, as Sama'el let a torrent of fire loose into the sky, signaling to the world that the dragon had awakened. The flames licked the sky, the intense heat burning the very air itself.

If you are done showing off to the readers, I'd like to eat a decent meal. Percy told the now indignant dragon.

Sama'el merely lifted his head high into the air in protest, and walked off to the dining area, followed by a slightly smirking Prince of the Pit.

Line Break

Memories came floating back to the young Prince of his stay so far at this camp as he sacrificed some of his food to his parents, patron, and friend Apollo.


His eyes glazed over the strawberry fields that covered the hills before him.

"Is this it?" He asked the little girl perched on his back. She merely nodded, and he proceeded past a large tree, towards the fields that supposedly held his destiny.


He watched as the campers shot glares at him, and the Daughter of Poseidon on his back; their suspicions aroused by the mysterious cloaked figure. He ignored them, walking to the Big House to receive his instructions from one of the greatest Trainers of Heroes in Greek History.


" All hail Perseus Jackson, Son of Po..." Perseus glared at the Trident apparition above his head. The rest of the campers bowed in surprise, and none noticed the anger of the young Prince. He was about to slice through the image with his obsidian blades, removing the evidence of his birth father before he stopped as the camper gasped in surprise; the trident seemed to ripple and fade in places, as if attempting to fight for it's place over the Son of the Pit. It was soon replaced with the crossing image of a brown lotus staff and a peacock feather, surrounded in a circle of darkness. Perseus smirked at the flabbergasted crowd as Chiron remedied his mistake; the crowd bowed once again. "All hail Perseus Jackson, Son of Hera, Queen of the Heavens."


The boy lay upon the cold ground, eyes glued to the obsidian blade circling his neck. Breath ragged, his bow on the floor next to him; quiver pressed into his back. Silence could be heard the campers stopped firing their bows at the targets to stare at the scene developing in front of them. The Son of Tartarus stared down at the boy, Sama'el wrapped around his legs. Breathing heavy, the boy tried to crawl away from the blade.

"If you ever attempt to attack Sama'el again, I will make sure you are thrown a pit of Tartarus so deep, the next Great Age would have come and gone before you reach the bottom."

With that he walked away, sword in one hand, followed by a four foot dragon, ignoring the stares of the campers behind them.


An emotion that had been missing for the past four years of his life had returned to him in full force. Fear. The sea rained its fury against his boat as he neared the Strait of Messina. The winds seemed to warn him, gently attempting to push his boat away from the hell he was close to entering. The smell of sea salt filled the air, assaulting his nostrils. The sun could be seen setting in the distance, the last of Perseus' energy fading from him. Sama'el lay next to him, wings out stretched, waiting for the fight that was to come. His hands ran over the rough wood of the Jackdaw, (What, I'm a fan too) the current portion of his focus mainly used to keep the boat steady. It had been a gift from a Son of Poseidon that had been condemned to Tartarus many years ago. But that is a story for another time. The Daughter of Athena he had ventured on this quest with was currently unconscious, sleeping in the bed underneath the deck thanks to a certain Prince of Monsters. It took much to annoy the Son of Hera, but the girl got under his skin like no other. Despite their arguments, the Prince held a small crush on the girl. He found her stubbornness slightly endearing, and her intelligence comforting.

No lesser monsters had dare attacked them thus far due to the Son of Tartarus' presence on the ship. However, that was soon about to change. There was no way Scylla and Charybdis would obey his command; he was not his father. They would not recognize him as Prince of Monsters; no, he had not earned their respect as of yet. Monsters would only obey him if they had already been defeated by him, or if he had defeated a monster that held more power than them. Scylla and Charybdis were monsters that were both close to the strength of Typhoon. No demigod had passed through the Strait of Messina and reached out alive without the assistance of an immortal being; none had come close to defeating either monster. His boat moved closer and closer to the Strait; he needed to come up with a plan and quickly. Ideas began churning of his head as he tried to discern the weaknesses of the two monsters he was about to go up against. Gears clicked in his head as a plan of action. His plan would guarantee the safety of the daughter of Athena, which would be the best he could offer. He let his mind take control of the boat as he descended below, to wake the unconscious Owl Head, and tell her despite their arguments, she would be safe from the threats they were about to face. He rose from her bed, guilty tears spread on her face, and prepared to dive head first into the maw of danger.


Crash. Spray. Left. Right. Slow down. Speed up. Duck. Jump. Turn around. Faster. Faster. Thirty meters. Perseus' mind reached overdrive as he barely dodged each tentacle of Scylla crashing next to him. Years of training kicked in as he flipped over a tentacle that nearly crashed into the young demigod. Twenty meters. The Prince seemed to be skating on the water, using his water powers. Perseus had no problem using his powers over water; he viewed it as his, his birthright rather than coming from his birth father. He turned around, shooting fire at the torso of the enraged Sea Monster. Bits of charred flesh fell from her body, spraying sea water everywhere. Perseus looked up to see his partner lighting up the night sky with jets of flame that fell into Scylla's eyes, his petite claws dragging deep cuts along her face. Sama'el let a ferocious roar, making his challenge known to the creature before him. Perseus turned around. Ten meters. Scylla turned its attention away from the young Son of Heavens and focused on the boat that held the life of the daughter of Athena that was close to escaping. Perseus cursed, and reversed his direction, back towards the tentacled monster. He rushed forward, obsidian blades gleaming in the night. He placed himself as close to as a tentacle as he could, his fire coated blade descending onto the appendage. He taunted the monster, returning its attention back to him. His eyes widened as a tentacle came flying at him, moving too fast for him to dodge. His subconscious reacted before he could. A circle of darkness protected his body, enveloping the Prince in a shroud of darkness. As the tentacle came in contact with the circle, it began to disappear, until another one of Scylla's appendages was gone; this one resting comfortably in Tartarus. Perseus began to breath raggedly. Vision blurred. He nearly collapsed there. He would have to go with plan B, he had no more energy to create another portal to Tartarus. As his vision cleared, he took off in the direction of Charybdis, Scylla hot on his trail. As he reached the 23 meter wide maw of the beast, he began to feel his power over water begin to fail him. His feet began to sink, his body thrown violently around by the speed of the whirlpool. Behind him Scylla fell to the same fate, her monstrous body being slowly sucked into the mouth of Charybdis. He struggled to keep his hand above the water as he felt the fear of drowning for the first time. Right when oxygen deprivation was about to claim him, he felt something grab his hand. He looked up to see Sama'el, flying him to safety. He looked to see Scylla fighting to stay afloat, while Charybdis fought to consume her. An eternal struggle. He had done it. Defeated both monsters, without actually killing either. He gave himself a small smile, before letting the dark abyss of his mind over take him.


He awoke in the lap of the Daughter of Athena, her blond hair falling on his face, her hands applying dressings to his wounds. The smell of lemons soothed his aching body, her soft skin calming his tensed muscles. He could not help but notice how beautiful she really was, her grey eyes staring intensely at the muscles that adorned the Prince's stomach.

"Enjoying the view? Take a picture, it'll last longer."

She looked at his smirking face, a blush adorning her face. She quickly lifted him from her lap, and wrapped him a tight hug, before the smacking the back of his head.

"You almost got yourself killed"

Perseus rubbed the back of his head, scowling.

"You're welcome. And why do you care if I die anyway?" he growled at her.

She quickly returned to the previous shade of red that she was only a few seconds ago.

She quietly mumbled something that Perseus could not hear.

"Speak up" Perseus said, as he stretched his cramped muscles.

She took a deep breath.

"Iloveyou."

"What? I can't understand you"

Her face quickly turned from one of embarrassment to one of anger.

"I love you. I love you; you deaf idiot." she screamed at him, breathing heavily.

Percy just looked at her, flabbergasted. She went on, confessing her feelings for him. He realized, every time she tried to talk with him, argue with him, deal with him over past 8 months at camp, she was trying to tell him that she cared for him. She finished talking, looking at him for a reaction. She found none other than complete surprise, not even a verbal rejection. She turned around tears in her eyes. She shouldn't have had said anything. Now the rest of the trip would be extremely awkward between them. She began walk away, back underneath the deck, before she was turned around; a pair of lips crashed into hers. She looked in surprise at Perseus kissing her, before closing her eyes, enjoying the bliss. Time seemed to slow, the sea crashing around them, the sun setting in the sky. As they broke off the kiss, she leaned into his chest, his head buried in her hair.

"I love you too, Wise Girl."


Perseus stood, awaiting Polyphemus' club. They had rescued the Golden Fleece and placed it back on the ship, only to find that Annabeth's friend was stranded on the island. Perseus refused to leave without saving him, knowing how much the Satyr meant to Annabeth. They snuck back into an enraged Polyphemus' cave and untied the unconscious satyr. They were found by the giant cyclops, and Perseus told Annabeth and her friend to run. He would make his final stand, protecting one that he loved. He would save her, he would not run as he did 8 years ago. He fought, fought as hard as he could with Sama'el at his side. His blades flashed as he cut repeatedly into the side of the roaring cyclops, before he was hit to the side. He barely was able to stand, Sama'el too far away to help. He accepted his end calmly, sure that he had given enough time for Annabeth to escape to the ship. He closed his eyes, awaiting Thanatos.

"Percy!" He heard someone scream. He opened his eyes as he was shoved aside by a blur of blond hair. Polyphemus' club came down, turning the daughter of Athena into nothing but a smear. Her blood coated the walls. Perseus' vision blurred as tears ran down his face, staring at the smear that was his first love. The first love that had sacrificed her life to save his. Something broke in the young demigod. Unbridled rage surfaced, his dark eyes turning blood red. His body lit on fire, and he raised his sword, screaming in defiance at the laughing cyclops. Hundreds of monsters began to appear around the young Prince. Hellhounds, Dracaena, Empusa, Ipotanes, and various other monsters kneeled in front of the young Prince, awaiting his command. Perseus voice, devoid of all intonation and emotion uttered two words.

"Kill Him"


Perseus stood at the front of the burning pyre, watching the shroud of gray silk burn, the scent of lemons filling the sky. A single tear dripped down his face as he stared at the embodied silk, black and brown owls that seemed to be dancing in the fire. He looked up to find the crying face of the daughter of Zeus on the opposite side of pyre. She looked up and glared at the Son of Tartarus. She blamed him for Annabeth's death, cursing at him, hitting him with lighting, trying to kill him after she awoke from the tree. He didn't try to stop her; he agreed with her. He again was the coward, unable to save the one he loved. He told none of his relationship with Annabeth, except for her brother Malcolm, who already knew of Annabeth's feelings for him.

The Son of Hera became distant from everyone in camp except his siblings after her death. She tormented him his dreams, he would wake to find himself in tears. Sama'el tried his best to comfort his partner, but nothing would help. He turned into a quiet, easily angered male. He would rise to every barb, pummeling someone if they looked at him the wrong way. He would return to his cabin at night, crying himself to sleep.

He was breaking.


Percy turned around, shaken from his memories as the campers gasped at something behind him. He turned to find the decaying corpse of the Oracle of Delphi. She opened her mouth, as green mist wrapped around the face of the Son of Tartarus.

The Half-Blood Prince and Princess of the Heavens shall venture forth

And accompany the moon's hunt as they travel north

One shall reach the age of eighteen against all odds

Given the burden of saving all gods

A budding romance shall decide

to which side the hero wishes to be allied

The final stand will make them choose

What would they rather loose

And with that, Perseus and the Oracle collapse, leaving gaping group of demigods staring in silence.

A/N: Well I hope you enjoyed that chapter. I was actually going to write the events out as they happened, but decided that memories would be easier. Well I hope you realized that the Great Prophecy age had been changed to 18, I feel that 16 is too young for Percy to fall in love with an immortal. On that note, Artemis won by 3 votes.

I apologize to all those that voted for Zoe. I will be doing a Zoe story, I just haven't decided if it'll be a betrayal story or a more original piece. Maybe I'll post a summary next chapter for you to read.

Also, I am interested in having a beta for this story, because I hate reading my work over. Please PM me if you are is interested.

I'd also like to thank those who answered my question about the name of a dragon. I did eventually decided on Sama'el though, as I thought the Prince of the Pit should have the Prince of Hell as his dragon.

Please R&R. See you next time.

Buh Bye now.