Disclaimer: I don't own the Percy Jackson series.


The End of Beginning

The body is a mass of energy, if that mass is somehow bound to this world, say, through complex magic, then a form of immortality is achieved. The only man known to have achieved this was a man called Nick, son of Hecate. He became something of a minor god of chaos, his life bound to the evil magics. He went by the name Diabolos.

'Magic Theories' written by Ryn Sprecher


Mark cautiously made his way inside the mountain. He didn't know how, but he always seemed to know which way he should go. Sword drawn, he worked through the maze of the mountain. Eventually he entered a large, empty room.

"You've been quite the 'thorn in my side' haven't you? Sadly for you, that ends here."

Mark whirled in the direction of the voice. There not ten feet away, was Diabolos

"Diabolos!" Mark yelled, "Today I'm sending you to the depths of Tartarus! In half!"

"Such bravado, shame it's wasted on the gods. You die now! And with your blood my rise to power will be complete, and none shall oppose me again!" Diabolos waved his hand, fire rose from the ground, forming a wall of heat and flame. Suddenly the fire lurched towards Mark. Mark raised his hands. Summoning his own power, the flaming wall halted. Mark could feel the fire resisting his attempts to destroy it.

The immortal champion holds the wall

The words of the prophecy echoed through his mind. Suddenly, the wall of flame disintegrated, revealing the form of Diabolos charging towards Mark. Mark just barely managed to parry the blow.

"Sorry, but I intend to keep my blood!" Mark backed up and took a fighting stance. "Let's end this!" With that the battle begun. The sounds of battle echoed throughout the mountain. The fate of the world was now at stake.


"Where's Mark?" Calypso said as she finished treating Wolf.

"Dunno, I haven't seen him since…" Alexa stopped, a horrible thought coming to her mind. "You don't think that he went in the mountain do you?"

"Oh no!" Calypso's words came out as a whisper as she stared at the earthen spire. Wolf pulled out his walkie-talkie and spoke into it.

"Boats, how many shots do you have left?" For a moment there was no answer, then a voice answered back.

"Two shots left, sir."

"Good, fire where the monsters exited the mountain."

"Aye sir, hope it's enough." The voice cut off and within a few seconds two booms could be heard, along with two answering explosions. When the smoke cleared there was a small hole in the mountain. Without a moments hesitation, Calypso charged in.

"Callie! Wait!" Alexa yelled, but to no avail. She had disappeared inside the mountain. She didn't know which way to go, but she was a daughter of a titan! She would not be denied. With resolve to match the gods themselves, she entered the belly of the beast.


Mark was out of his league, and he knew it. Diabolos had trained for lifetimes, he had only trained for two decades. He couldn't gain any leverage in this fight. Diabolos sword managed to slip past his guard and cut him between his ribs, cutting through his Spartan armor as if it was butter. Mark resisted the urge to yell in pain. As his blood dripped to the floor, the mountain rumbled. Diabolos smiled victoriously.

"You heroes are all the same. I knew you would come looking for me. I knew you would walk right into my clutches. With your dying breath your blood will raise my army, and none shall ever oppose me again!"

As Diabolos was gloating Mark launched a fireball. Though Diabolos managed to divert it with his own powers, the flames still managed to scorch the side of his face, making him look all the more menacing.

"Nice try, Die!" Diabolos launched a fireball of his own. Mark just managed to dodge, Diabolos followed through with a renewed onslaught.


After what seemed like an eternity wandering through the mountain, Calypso heard sounds of battle ahead. Afraid of what might be happening, she surged forward. Finally, she reached the large empty room. There she saw Mark battling for his life.

"Mark!" She screamed before she could stop herself. Out of instinct, Mark's eyes moved in the direction of the voice. His mistake cost him. Momentarily distracted, Mark was unable to block his enemies strike. Diabolos' blade sliced across his gut. Mark cried and sunk to the floor. Diabolos laughed in victory and raised his sword for the finishing blow. "No!" She screamed. In a last ditch effort, she reached out for the magic realm once more, commanding it to obey her. The pain in her head was unbearable, but she would not take no for an answer. Suddenly, it felt as if a brick wall collapsed in her mind. At that exact moment, Diabolos froze, unable to move. He grunted and groaned but no matter what he tried it felt as if something had wrapped around him, keeping him from moving. Calypso winced in pain as their two wills battled. Then, slowly, Mark began to rise. The fire in his eyes had been redoubled. the flames were jumping out of his eyes, his very body began to glow an ominous orange. At that one moment, he looked like a ancient being, older than even the titans. The world changed, the earth moved, but the home was always the same, it was an ancient power, and when aroused, it was a fearsome force. Some of that ancient force had awakened in Mark, giving him the strength to battle once more. Diabolos struggled struggled to free himself, pouring his will and hatred into his effort Calypso cried in pain as Diabolos began to struggle free. With a powerful cry, Mark plunged his sword into Diabolos' heart. The mountain shook violently, Diabolos' form began to shimmer and distort.

"No!" It was the last any would hear of Diabolos. His form exploded as the energy that held him to this world dissipated in that moment. Calypso was sent flying backwards. She groaned as she rose to her feet, other than a few bruises, she was unharmed. She looked around desperately for Mark. He lie several feet away, his armor in pieces, but that wasn't what worried her, what did was that he was not moving. She rushed over to his broken body. She tried to raise the visor, but it wouldn't move. Gently, she removed his helmet. His face was covered in scars, his breath was slow and ragged, and his eyes were closed.

"Mark? Mark! Wake up! Don't leave me!" She pleaded with his body as she knelt down and cradled his head in her arms. As if hearing her, his eyes slowly opened, like he was waking up from a nap.

"Is he...?" He wheezed out.

"Yes, yes, he's dead." Tears of relief streamed down her face. Slowly, Mark raised his hand and wiped her tears away.

"What kind of man would I be if I left you like that?"

"A real jerk." They both laughed lightly. Then Calypso felt Mark place something in her hand.

"Whenever... Whenever I think of you stuck on that island all by yourself... It tears me up so much. I don't want you to ever be alone again."

She looked at her palm, there lie a ring. She stared at it, too shocked to say anything.

"Will you do me the honor of accepting this?" Mark asked her. She looked at him, then a smile crept across her face. She kissed him gently, his arm wrapping around her. His tired eyes then closed. That was how they were found, with Calypso cradling his sleeping body.


The battle was over, but the aftermath was devastating. Not including Sarah, Cameron, Alexa, and the men on the ballista, 36 Forgotten set foot on the beach. Only six walked off the beach. Those included Wolf and Mark. Knight, Bully, and Joker would fall in battle. Joker's body would be found surrounded by the remains of his foes. His sacrifice would save one of his fellows who had been wounded by an arrow. Apache's body would never be found. Wolf's assistance, Trevor, would also be killed in action. So, in summary, 48 people to part in the battle. 40 stepped onto those sands, of those number, only ten made it back.

After Mark was carried out on a stretcher, they had a bit of a scare.

"Where's Cameron?" Sarah asked.

"He came in with us." One of the Forgotten said. They spent the next twenty minutes searching for him. They eventually found him in an empty room, hanging upside down from the roof with a rope around his leg. when they walked in he looked calm, but like he was holding in his frustration.

"You know, as I hang here, I can't help but comment on the frequency of happenings which include me hanging upside down by a rope attached to a high point."

Everyone let out a burst of laughter.

"It's not funny!" He burst out in comic rage. "cut me down! Please!"

After they cut him down, they went to work on the job of taking car of the casualties. It took a few hours to identify all the bodies and put them into body bags. Then they loaded them into the ships and sailed away. The ships sailed towards Long Island Sound, towards Camp Half-Blood, stopping only once when they reached the coast to rest. When they did reach the camp, the landed on the beach. The campers rushed out to meet what they thought was some sort of attack. They were surprised to see 10 grim faced half-bloods exit the ships.

"May I speak with Chiron, please?" Wolf asked them.

"You may." Chiron said as he trotted over. Him and Wolf walked away from the crowd and spoke at length. Wolf told him about the Forgotten and the battle they had fought.

"We want to honor our dead, and we think that this would be the place they would want to be honored at."

Chiron agreed, so that afternoon, what remained of the Forgotten spent their time burying their dead. They would be buried not far from Zues' Fist. Each had a headstone, with their name and an epitaph lovingly carved into the stone.

That evening, on the beach, a pile of firewood was made. Wolf, Mark, and others carried a coffin onto the woodpile. The entirety of Camp Half-Blood and what remained of the Forgotten watched in silent respect. Inside the coffin were the tents that the Forgotten used. They represented the Forgotten as a whole. Laying upon the coffin was a blanket. On the blanket the names of the fallen had been carefully sewn, representing each individual. Wolf then layed a torch on the firewood.

"And so the camp burns" Mark said as he looked on sadly. So was fulfilled his vision and the prophecy. What remained of the Forgotten would stay at the camp, ever remembering their comrades. The day after the ceremony Mark and Calypso said their goodbyes. When asked why they were leaving, Mark would reply in one sentence.

"My path leads elsewhere."

"Someone needs to keep him out of trouble." Calypso would say. As they left the borders of the camp, Wolf, Alexa, Cameron, and Sarah watched on.

"Wish you all the luck in the world!" Cameron yelled out to them.

No one else said anything else for a moment as they silently watched the two figures depart, then Wolf broke the silence.

"We'll see Callie and Mark again."

"When?" Alexa asked.

"When we need them most."


Ryn and Jayson were sad when their father closed the book and placed it back on the shelf in his library.

"Tell us another story dad!" Ryn pleaded with her father.

"Maybe tomorrow, it getting late and you two need to get to bed."

"Dad, I have a question." Jayson said from his seat on the floor.

"What's that?"

"What happened to everyone afterwards?"

"Most of them stayed at Camp Half-Blood. Their adventures weren't over yet, but they lived peaceably for a time. Now, off to bed with you."

Ryn and Jayson trudged off to bed, unsatisfied with the answer. Their father sat in his chair for a moment, staring at the bookshelf he had placed the book, rubbing the fake skin on his robotic arm absentmindedly.

"Did they enjoy the story?" Came the voice of his wife from behind him.

"Yes, they enjoyed it, they've got the same kind of fire in their eyes that our friends had."

"They'll grow up to be fine people, dear."

The man rose from his chair and kissed his wife.

"We should be getting to bed too, long day tomorrow."

As the two left the library and went to bed, Ryn sneaked into the library. Something didn't make sense, and she aimed to find out. She wanted to know how here dad knew so much but wasn't in any of the stories. She pulled down the book he had read from the bookshelf. On the front cover the author was her father, Matthew Sprecher, that she knew. She opened the book to the front page and was surprised at what she read. First it read the title, 'Book 7 of the Annals of the Forgotten'. As she read down it said 'written by Matthew 'Wolf' Sprecher, former Captain of the now disbanded Forgotten'. She stared dumbly at it for a moment before she turned the page. On it was a handwritten message. 'Written to my beautiful wife, Alexa, who was there for me during those trying days'. Quietly, she placed the book back on the shelf and went back to bed. Tomorrow, she looked at her parents with newfound respect and awe.


A/N: Well, it was a fun ride, a short one, but a fun one. Is this the end of our heroes stories? Not a chance, I fully intend to return to them, but for now, they must rest. I will be starting a new Fanfic shortly. After much consideration and thought, my next one will be set in the world of Skyrim. Never played the game? You should. The title of it will be Dovahsebrom. Watch and wait, for I shall return.

P.S. Thanks to all those who reviewed and applied their OC's, the story wouldn't have been possible without ya.