Author's Notes — This chapter wrote itself, hence the quick(er) update. Yes, Reyna is in this chapter! I know most of you must be flabbergasted that yes, Solaerius has finally managed to stick Camp Jupiter in here! It's really happening.
The story is starting to pick up, but I'm trying to make sure all of you know what's going on, so I've added a bit more cohesive sense instead of my rather erratic thoughts and scribbles. Foreshadowing ahead, both blatant and hidden. Let me know if you find any; I'm interested in seeing what you guys assume is going to happen.
Challenge — I've recently been asked by an inquisitive reader if this was going to be a Death/Percy story. To be honest, I've never thought about it this way. But if any of you are interested in the idea of a spin-off with this pairing, leave a review and I'll draft up some suggestions and rules next chapter.
Dedication — to everyone waiting for Reyna! She hath arrived!
Review replies — thank you to everyone who left me a note! I sincerely appreciate every one of them :)
princeoftheseas (thank you! I hope you enjoy this chapter as well.) Known-As-Rome (I'm glad you think so! Truthfully, I'm rather surprised anyone thinks that, but this only boosts my motivation to continue!) A lone Black Angel (*laughs* Well, last time I checked, I still haven't become a demigod yet. Depressing thought, really. But I'm happy you like this story, and don't worry! English isn't my first language either :) DeathmatchDrunkard (Yes, Chaos is still somewhere behind the barrier. Erebus impersonated Aether in 15 000 BC, not 10 000, but it really doesn't matter; it can be taken either way. The timeflow difference won't be ridiculously exaggerated, like I've seen in many Chaos stories, where Percy miraculously becomes a commander and only two earth years had passed. For every one earth day, two days in the other dimension has passed. This is liable to change, but that is what I am thinking right now. You're almost correct with the Nico/Aether Nyx/Thalia part, but there's a rather important part missing. It's too massive to put down here, and I doubt I'd be able to make it make sense. It will be explained next chapter. And Lamia is correct.) Doyoureallycare (You're quite right, actually! I'm glad you've been able to decipher the scrawls that are my attempts at writing. in Chapter Six, Percy meets the Erebus in his mind, who fuses with him to keep both of them alive and to give Percy his memories and skill accumulation. Since Percy's mind wouldn't be able to take the sudden influx of information, most of it comes as bits and pieces or dreams. In Chapter Ten, Percy realizes that Death is missing and when he goes to search for her, he comes across the place where his past self had hidden Chaos' body. Aether and Nyx track Percy to the mountains, where they mistake him to be the Primordial of the Endless, so he meshes up his many identities and tells them his name was Erebus. Does it make more sense now?) Slytherin Cat (I certainly hope so! But to clarify things, Erebus of the Endless is just Percy that made up another identity, not some stupid OC that got chucked into the story. I hope this chapter clarifies some of your questions, but if not, feel free to leave me questions :) SONxOFxCHAOS (It's finally here! Enjoy -or at least, I hope so-) griffindork93 (Reyna isn't Death, and she comes in this chapter! Can you believe that? I will include more Poseidon later on, when he finally learns what Zeus did and decides to pummel him to the ground in very painful, nasty ways.) WideOpenSpacesGirl045 (I'm thinking of abject humiliation so far. His ego needs deflating, or at least, as much as it can deflate. Reyna is here!) Lord Sanguine (come on; ask me some questions then! I can't help you if I don't know how.) aesir21 (don't worry, your wish has been fulfilled. Reyna and Percy meet in this chapter, though I'll say it isn't under the happiest of circumstances.) cool (thank you, and I will!) Leftover Meal (I'm glad to hear that, and I hope this chapter makes sense as well :) How is your story faring?)
I've been typing this chapter on my iPod, so the spelling is most likely atrocious. And don't even get me started on autocorrect.
-Solaerius
"You would have been nothing without me, Zeus."
Chapter VI
Berkano
ß
Rune for secrets, sanctuary, creation.
In the beginning, there was Chaos.
With elements only whispered of to mankind, he shaped the world with naught but his bare hands. From Darkness he wrought shadows and hellfire, and its opposite, Light, brought forth the air and sky. Life spread colors to the world, and Death's Endless ripped them away to maintain the precarious balance.
But he did not anticipate that these elements he had brought over were as elusive as he, that they worked in ways the brain cannot even begin to fathom. The collective energies of these elements fused together, forming the world as it should, but shards —mere fragments— broke out of his control. Throughout eons of practice, the energies took on a human form.
They were the Primordials.
Powerful beyond recognition, they drew their power directly from their domains, an endless source of chaos and destruction. Taking pieces of their souls, the Primordials forged them into the shapes of crystals, the fragments of their own being helping them dominate any who dared to oppose them.
But with great power came great weakness, and the Primordials were not without their flaws.
Without their soul shards, their powers were limited. While they could still fight and defend themselves better than any mortal, or even god, it would take much less to subdue them. Some may be driven mad by the separation, unable to think, to breathe, to do anything except for reclaiming their own.
And they say that when the world ends, the Primordials will dissolve, fading back into the elements from where they came. It is also why the beings who wish to destroy the world would target the Primordials, for the connection works both ways and without them, their domains would crumble.
-Hesiod's Theogony (Solaerius)
The journey back to the Capital was uneventful, but Percy's heart still threatened to leap out of his chest. It was surprising no one else could hear the rapid thudding of his too-fast pulse.
He could feel Aether giving him a strange look from the corner of his eye, and he realized that some of his internal conflict must have shown up on his face. Quickly smoothing down his impassive mask, Percy returned the stare steadily, letting a bit of power make his eyes burn brighter.
"Is something amiss?"
Aether averted his gaze, unnerved.
"No," he muttered. "Nothing."
Percy mentally berated himself for his slip in composure. Nothing good ever became of that. For whenever he wasn't paying attention, something always ended up trying to kill him in painful, nasty ways, or in the very least tried to make his life as difficult as possible.
Such as now. It must have been the epitome of awkward moments.
Of course, that was Percy's own fault. In the mountain's tunnel he had been careless and had set off one of the numerous traps, which would have no doubt been fatal has he not been able to fly. The impact had sent jets of dust streaming into the air, drowning out what little light could get through the chain of mountains.
And then, through the burning debris peppering the ground, Percy saw them. Nyx and Aether—Nico and Thalia.
He had been prepared to kill anyone who stumbled upon this place, but... not them. Never them.
Aether, startled, had started to reach for a weapon. Instinctively, Percy struck, disappearing out of the range of sight. His hand had already started to move into a killing blow, honed by nature and necessity, and he was just able to stop himself before the strike landed.
stupidstupidstupidhowcouldhehavelostcontrol...
Shaken, Percy tried to cover it by calling for Nyx to come out from the shadows. He was bitterly amused at her astonishment. However much she tried to hide it, she would always be as clear as day to him.
But they didn't recognize him.
Perhaps it was the change of clothing, or maybe because his eye color had changed, mirroring that of Erebus' after Death had finished her tampering. Whatever the reason, he was not associated with Thanatos, and Percy finally let himself to release a relieved breath.
Of course, Fate had it in for him since the day he was born. He should have known better to hope that that would have changed.
Aether saw his necklace and pretty much assaulted him on the spot in his excitement. Or maybe it was anger. It was hard to tell with the flurry of emotions darkening his face.
His first reaction was, "They've figured out who I am."
Only they didn't. Of course, being mistaken to be the Primordial of the Endless wasn't any better. But Percy could understand why they thought that.
After Erebus had been presumed dead, he needed to use another identity. Only one of his past identities that he used when undercover in ASPECTs could suffice. He possessed too much power to pass himself as a mere mortal, or even a god. Only a Primordial had so much raw strength, and Erebus had found no more reason to hide his true abilities.
Thus, the Primordial of the Endless had been reborn.
Technically speaking, Percy was indeed the Primordial of the Endless. Being the Champion of Death, he would be considered a Primordial, though the others weren't aware of the fact. Percy himself had only found out after Death had blatantly told him so.
Percy had decided to play along with their assumptions, because he would have a hard time convincing them otherwise, and frankly, Percy had not prepared for this part of their encounter.
He was definitely not amused when they asked him to join their cause under Order. Biting back his immediate disgust, he forced a sickeningly sweet smile on his face, the gesture causing his cheek muscles to twitch erratically.
He wanted Order to die. To atone for his sins in a place he'll never be able to escape, trapped in the deepest, darkest pits of his mind.
But the more he thought about it, the more sense it made to keep a close eye on Order. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, after all. If he were able to gain influence with Order and his trust —just like Erebus had before, a treacherous voice whispered in the back of his head, and look how readily Order had tossed him aside—
Ruthlessly quelling the feelings of bloodlust and the need for revenge, Percy allowed the unnatural smile to drop from his face, leaving it blank and unreadable.
Order may have had something to do with Death's disappearance. She was a powerful deity, and one that would not be subdued easily. The only one he could think of with that kind of power was either Order or Chaos, except that the latter was still comatose in a mountain.
Staying close to Order would allow him access to potentially important documents, and he might be able to unravel the questions that plagued him day in and day out. And if anything went wrong, he could always fight his way out.
So Percy told them, yes, he would come, and listed several conditions to not make it seem like he had given in too easily.
His side story of being asleep for eons was a good way to explain why he stuck out like a sore thumb in their culture. No matter how quickly Percy was able to adjust to this foreign dimension, there were still things he had no clue about, or even ones he had no clue he had no clue about.
And since his past self went by Percy —he wondered for a moment if he was named after himself, however that worked— he used the name Erebus. To use another name would create yet another identity for him to keep track of, and honestly, it was already becoming a handful.
Shaking himself out of his daydreams, Percy felt eyes burning a hole in his back.
"If you're quite done staring at me," Aether started at his chilly tone, then flushed guiltily, "I would suggest we hurry back before nightfall. You do not wish to be anywhere near the Uncharted Lands when the particular vicious creatures scurry out of hiding."
Aether looked away, his lips thinning, but in frustration more than anger. Jerking the reins on his horse harshly, he made the stallion go faster and faster, as though running would outdistance his troubles.
Erebus' voice stirred memories nagging on the edges of his mind, ones that were starting to rust away in the onslaught of time.
Truthfully, he sounded too much like Percy for comfort, though it was almost a relief to hear anything remotely close to the late Primordial's refined tones. Aether was beginning to forget —his sarcastic wit, his wry amusements— and that frightened him worse than any monster he had encountered.
He didn't want to lose all that he had so desperately clung to, but the eons were not doing him any favors.
Biting his lip, the Primordial of Day closed his cerulean eyes, fighting back the horde of bittersweet memories that threatened to spill from his mind and be lost to the deluge forever.
-o-
And thousands of dimensions away, another pair of crazed blue eyes blinked open, the knife clutched in one hand ripping a ragged cut through the teddy bear's stomach, eviscerating its contents. Fluffy bits of stuffing clung to every surface as the legacy of Apollo shuffled through it, muttering darkly under his breath.
Beside him, a girl with dark, almost black hair gathered into one thick braid regarded him with something akin to boredom. Gripping the gladius in her hand in a lazy fashion, she fixed the boy with a stare.
"Well?" she drawled. "Surely you cannot be telling me of another invasion, Octavian. It's been the sixth one this month, and nothing has even happened so far."
"The stuffings do not lie!" Octavian snapped, angrily swiping a bit of teddy bear guts from his pale hair.
Reyna managed to keep a straight face, only the barest twitches of her lips betraying her hidden amusement. "Of course not," she said evenly. "But perhaps you should rest your Inner Eye. It would do no good to exhaust it, and quite frankly, I believe the council has had enough with your false predictions."
"The prophecies do not lie, either!" the augur growled, in a tone that would have been threatening if he wasn't practically wading in piles of disemboweled stuffed animals. "They need time to come true!"
"—time we do not have," Reyna said, absently shooing away her silver automaton dog from where it was attempting to chew on her praetor cape and eat the remains of a fluffy silver bunny. "The Feast of Fortuna is coming up faster than you can imagine, and the deadline is as well."
"You have no right to lecture me on what is right!" Octavian visibly struggled to contain his temper. "I am the augur, not you. Do not tell me how to do my job."
Reyna arched an eyebrow. "Very well, Octavian. On your head it is, then." She turned to leave.
"You do not understand," the sickly boy whispered under his breath, clenching his fists until the knuckles stood out, bony white against blush-blood red.
Reyna started to address the seething legacy, but suddenly her tongue was thick and heavy in her mouth. Frowning, she tried to step forward, to demand to know what Octavian had done to her, but she could not control her actions and her vision was already sifting away into black.
The landing knocked all breath from her body, her head slamming against the ground so hard white stars exploded in her eyes. In a daze, it registered groggily that she must have fallen against the floor of the temple.
"A—Aurum," she gasped out, blindly stretching her hand out to feel the cold muzzle of her automaton dog, who whimpered and licked her palm with a wet tongue. "Get... get Lupa..."
Immediately, the dog was gone, leaving Reyna's arm to fall to the ground, flopping to her side limply. Argentum circled Reyna's body, baring his teeth at Octavian, polished fangs gleaming in anticipation to sink into the flesh of anyone who dared to harm his master.
And then Reyna's entire body went slack, the tension melting away like the release of a bowstring. She slumped against Argentum's cold flank, feeling her eyes glaze over. Hollow sounds rang in her ears, drowning out the steady thud of her heartbeat until it was all she could hear.
Voices, barely indescribable, filtered through the cracks, some shouting hoarsely, others quiet and unshakable. Reyna could tell it was all in a different language, but somehow, she could understand what they were saying.
Colors —molten, too-vibrant colors—hurt her eyes, and it took a moment for her vision to adapt and the world to shift into clarity.
She was staring at a battle scene, or what would have been a battle scene had she been able to see the combatants. They were moving at speeds her eyes could not pick up, and it was only after their swords clashed together in a screech of sparks did Reyna figure out where they were standing.
"Atego tem inlatan hoc paten iter!" one shouted, his stark white hair splattered with arcs of bloodstains. The massive broadsword in his hands looked much too heavy and clumsy to lift, let alone use, but the man —if he even was one— wielded it with ease.
'I thought you said this route was clear!' was what he had said, which left more questions than answers. Route to what? And where was she, anyways?
"Fuite ante, quo vite detre inna?" This time, the speaker was a tall woman dressed in armor as black as the night. Reyna started in apprehension, having not sensed her before she revealed her presence.
'It was before, how was I to know?'
Reyna's hand snaked towards her gladius. It was with some alarm that she realized it wasn't in its usual place at her hip. And it was in even greater alarm that she realized her arm was transparent and not all there.
Before she could do anything else or have a panic attack, a solid arm crooked around her neck, effectively strangling her breath before she could even comprehend what had just happened.
"Du vultis isun, caius stas," the figure growled. She could feel the warmth emanating from their proximity, and had to fight down a blush despite the circumstances. His other arm was wrapped tightly around her waist, somehow able to hold on to her spirit form.
'Who sent you?'
"No one." Reyna kept her voice leveled and steady, and took a breath to quell her shaking nerves. "I'm not sure how I got here, but if you could return me to my body, that would be greatly appreciated."
The arm loosened, and the bitter edge of the knife finally dropped away. Reyna lurched forward, breathing deeply and massaging the icy cold feeling that threatened to freeze her throat.
"You are not dead," he said, after regarding her with blank eyes. Reyna gaped at his perfect, accentless English. "Why are you here, halfblood?"
"I don't know what happened," she said, watching with some trepidation as the other gods —for their skill level boasted of something higher than simple mortals— finished their own duels and were looking inquisitively at their third member.
"Ist hein ririich tun?" White-Hair asked, flicking the residue blood off of his blade, the droplets spattering the ground at Reyna's feet.
'Is something the matter?'
"Ingen," her attacker replied in the foreign tongue, giving his head a slight shake. "Il audisse."
'No. I thought I heard something. It is nothing.'
It was with some trepidation that Reyna noticed how the others' gazes flitted over her, as though she did not exist for them. She wondered why he was the only one who could spot her detached spirit floating beside them like a particularly lost ghost.
The girl in black narrowed her eyes, but said nothing as they reined in their horses to face the setting sun.
The figure stared after them, his mouth thinning in distaste. One hand reaching into his sleeve, he pulled out a plain, yet elegant knife carved with archaic symbols. His face never wavered from its bored, apathetic expression.
Before Reyna could figure out what he meant to do with it, the blade arced up, catching the sunlight as it came down. Though she was used to shows of violence, she couldn't help but wince, watching the steady beads of blood coalesce off the edge.
As he pulled out the now drenched weapon, shaking the remnants from the puncture wound in his hand, Reyna noticed the thin scratches inscribed on the flat of the blade glowing with an unearthly light.
"What—"
He thrust the weapon between her ribs, and Reyna jerked with a pained gasp. Her entire body flared with a painful light, but she couldn't scream; her throat was clamped down with the agony that burned through her veins like molten steel.
The figure's eyes bore into her, icy cold and venomous.
"I will no longer help the gods. Let this be a warning to them."
Reyna woke to see SPQR painted in large, scrolling letters over the northern wall.
The infirmary's lumpy cot dug into her back, but no matter how much she twisted and shifted, she couldn't find a comfortable position. A sharp pain made itself known in her head, aggravated by her restless moving. One hand massaging her temple in a vain attempt to soothe the headache, she pressed the other to her ribs, fully expecting it to be bandaged.
Her fingers met only smooth skin. There was no wound.
"Reyna!"
Said girl tensed, her entire body going rigid. She was the praetor —weakness was not acceptable. As she debated her choices, a mass of dark, curly locks bobbed into view.
Reyna relaxed slightly.
"Centurion Hazel," she greeted, trying to keep up her imperious tone. The daughter of Hades' smile slipped a bit, but it was quickly replaced with a genuine look of concern. She drew up a chair, the back legs scratching thin lines against the linoleum floor.
"How are you feeling?"
"Fine. How long have I been here?"
"Only a few hours," Hazel supplied, handing Reyna a glass of water and helping her drink it down, ignoring her attempts to push off her help with a stubborn look in her eyes.
"Has—"
"And I've been the only one here, except for Lupa," she cut in, answering Reyna's unasked question. "She was the one who brought you here from the temple. I saw Octavian. He looked chagrined somehow. What did he do to you?"
"Nothing," Reyna answered shortly. "Or at least, I'm not sure. I have to talk to Lupa about a vision I had. I think it was a vision, anyways, albeit a horrifyingly realistic one."
Hazel pushed back from the bed, brushing a lock of hair that escaped behind her ear. Shooing away Reyna's attempts to get up, she let her chair clatter to the floor.
"I'll get her."
A few impatient moments later, Lupa stalked in by herself, her giant form towering over Reyna's bed, blocking out the window's light. Reyna struggled to sit up, pushing away the remnants of her throbbing headache.
"Lupa," she bowed her head dizzily, "I believe I may have news that will concern the gods."
The wolf's lips curled into a snarl, but after years reading her expressions, Reyna knew it was more of an amused smile.
'Surely not another one of Octavian's predictions?'
A little smile of her own tugged at the corner of her lips.
"No," she agreed, enjoying the ability to poke fun at Octavian's expense. "Octavian has no new messages for Lord Apollo, but I do."
Reyna could almost feel Lupa's eyebrow raise (if wolves had eyebrows, anyways).
'That is usually the augur's job, is it not?'
"That is true," she conceded, "but I'm not sure if Octavian was the one who did something to me, which was why I sent Aurum. We were in the temple, and Octavian was, ah, sacrificing more stuffed animals. I turned to leave, but then my vision turned to black and when I could see again, I was a spirit in what seemed like another dimension."
Lupa sat up straighter, her tail swishing restlessly against her hind legs. 'Another dimension—it is most unheard of.'
Reyna noted how she never said it was impossible. She bit her lip in conflict.
"I believe it was," she finally said. "I could not feel the presence of the gods or of the Mist. There were other —even more powerful— beings in that world, dwarfing everything else. They fought like," she shuddered a bit at the memory, "like devils. It was impossible to see them until their sword had felled you to the ground."
Lupa's ear twitched erratically. She seemed perturbed, an expression Reyna had never seen before on her face.
"There was one in particular. He could see me when the others could not, and he was perhaps the quietest of the three. I did not sense him until he had me at his mercy."
Lupa's voice sounded almost... desperate.
'What did he look like?'
Reyna frowned. "I'm... not sure," she admitted. "I did not get much of a good look at his face. But," she added hastily, seeing Lupa's disappointed expression, "I did get to see his eyes. One was a crimson red, with three parallel slash marks. The other was a vivid green. The greenest I've ever seen before, and they glowed with unnatural power."
Lupa's claws had sunk into the linoleum floor, leaving ten deep gouges in the stone.
"And he had some sort of crystal around his neck. It's impossible to describe."
Lupa was silent for a long time. Reyna thought she wasn't going to speak.
'Black,' she suddenly said, breaking out of her chain of thought. 'The crystal was a deep black, with streaks of emerald lines cutting across one side. Mist swirled in the translucent surface, showing images of things better left unseen.'
"Yes," Reyna said in surprise, not missing the way Lupa's wolfish visage drained of color at her affirmation. The floor cracked under her massive claws, chunks crumbling beneath the pressure.
'The gods must know,' Lupa murmured, her tail whipping in agitation. 'They must be made aware of the danger.'
The stranger's last message came to mind. Reyna cleared her throat, drawing Lupa's unwavering attention. "He had a message. 'I will no longer help the gods. Let this be a warning to them.' Those were his exact words."
Lupa hissed in a growling breath through her teeth.
'He has returned. He will seek to gain retribution against Zeus for going back on a deal they made, eons ago. Olympus is in danger.'
"Who is he?" Reyna asked, her hands fisting the blankets on the bed, crumpling the rough material. "I need to be able to prepare the people, should the need arise. If he takes out the demigods, then the gods will be severely weakened."
Lupa paced in a tight circle, the thick pad of her paws grinding against the shattered floor.
'Thanatos,' she finally said, reluctant to say the name. 'He was known to men as Thanatos, the lieutenant and champion of Death herself.'
Reyna's eyes narrowed. "You seemed to have known him very well."
Lupa was almost at the exit, the light from the drawn blinds outlining her flattened ears in black.
'Once,' she said softly. 'Or at least, I thought I did. You do not want him for an enemy.'
Then she was gone, and Reyna was left alone with only her thoughts for company.
-X-
The deaths of all Big Three demigods struck the Olympians deeply.
It was too much. Too much bloodshed, too much carnage, too much loss.
The circumstances would be different if they had been killed in battle; at least they would have died defending what they believed in and with a purpose to the last.
But they had not. The facade of peace was just a pretty, pretty lie. The kind the gods were best at. For one had been thrown into Tartarus for reasons unknown, the other two poisoned right under the gods' very noses.
Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades had yet to threaten each other with a World War III, but somehow, that made the other gods even more nervous. The tension between them was so thick that it could be cut with a sword, and all were afraid one would finally snap and obviate the earth under ruin.
It was like trying to deactivate a nuclear bomb that was liable to go off at any second without warning.
After weeks of thought, Athena was the first to come up with a solution. She presented it to the silent council, ignoring the burning eyes of Hestia as she poked at the smoldering coals.
"Father," she stated confidently. "I believe I have come up with a solution to our impasse."
Her words were met by an uncertain silence. From the corner of her eye, she could see Apollo shifting, brow furrowed, muttering things under his breath that she couldn't hear.
Undeterred, she pressed on. "Each god will choose one of their Greek children to become part of the Elites. This works rather in the same way as," Athena gestured towards Artemis, who scowled darkly, "as Artemis' hunters. They cannot die of old age or sickness, but can be brought down in combat. While Chiron is an excellent trainer, he does not know the secrets to our trade as well as one who has our blood running through their veins. This will ensure that our halfblood children will be better prepared for another war, if need be, and that they would not diverge from the gods."
Zeus was the first to break the thick silence, his face the calm before a storm. "All in favor?" he asked quietly, his bravado gone. It seemed that Thalia's death had impacted him more than he would care to admit.
He put his hand up.
Ares joined him, looking smug. He was no doubt thinking of all the killing techniques he could now share with whichever child he chose.
Dionysis also allowed himself to be swayed. The solemn, slightly drunk expression on his face bore tribute to the fact that he was thinking of Castor and hoping that no more of his children died because of him.
Hephaestus grunted in agreement. He stroked out the smoldering fire in his beard, keeping his eyes fixed intently to his task.
Demeter voiced her favor for Athena's idea, her cereal left forgotten. Despite her position as one of the Olympian council, she was rarely taken seriously. She could create obscure, undetectable poisons or create a plague so intense that the mortals would wipe themselves out for what little food remained.
After some deliberation, Hera put her hand up. While she did not fancy the idea of her husband being encouraged to foster any more brats, they were only half-immortal. the goddess could kill them if she wished to; besides, she could pass on the choice to her champions, if she wished to.
"Brother?" Zeus asked, seeing as Poseidon was sitting in his throne with his teeth gritted and eyes cold with anger. "Do you not agree? This-"
"No," the sea god said, clenching his teeth. "The promise of immortality, however slight, is corruptive. And everlasting life is not a blessing as you so foolishly believe. I vote no."
Seizing his chance at the brief lull in conversation following Poseidon's speech, Apollo added in his own two cents. "It wouldn't be wise, you know." He leaned back in his throne, earphones firmly plugged into his ears. "I've seen parts of the future. Not enough, just snatches. But know that whatever you choose," he directed this bit to the goddess of wisdom, who was still perched in the center of the room, "this choice of yours, Athena, will lead to either great things or terrible endings. I say no. However awesome my kids may be, and, I know they're so much awesomer than your kids, letting one of them become immortal would give them further incentive to underestimate the gods. How can we rule the world, if we can't even control our own kids without bribery?"
"While my brother has a thick head," Artemis interrupted, ignoring Apollo's indignant exclamation, "he may be right for once. And if I may be honest... the world does not need any more lecherous boys."
"Well, gee thanks, little sis," Apollo muttered, dodging one of Artemis' arrows as she seethed. "I always knew you believed in me."
Zeus turned his eyes to Aphrodite, who was sitting in her throne quietly. Correctly guessing what his look meant, she said only, "Love is powerful. But it is also fickle."
Aphrodite turned her eyes away, resolutely glaring at a microscopic chip in her nails as though wishing it would burst into flames, something that was uncharacteristic for the normally flamboyant goddess.
Hermes exhaled slowly, looking as though he had aged twenty years. His caduceus was propped against the arm of his throne, George and Martha hissing reassuring things as they twined around the golden shaft.
"I've learned my lesson with Luke," he said tiredly. "It may be too late to save him, but at least I can make sure that this type of thing does not happen again. I vote no."
Zeus paused for a moment, counting the number of murmured assents. "Be as that may be, Hermes, Athena's suggestion passes seven to five."
The other gods made their choices quietly, with a few complications. Zeus and Hera chose to postpone their decision until they had someone to recommend. Poseidon refused to choose at all, stating that Richard was no child of his. The statement was met by disbelief.
"How can he not be your kid?" Ares demanded. "Sure, he's a disgusting little snot, but he lives in your cabin!"
"The demigod is Amphitrite's," Poseidon conceded, his lips thinning dangerously. "I only allowed him in and claimed him was because of a favor I owed my... wife."
He spat out the word like it left a bitter taste in his mouth.
"Be as that may be," Zeus boomed. "He is still the Cabin Three counsellor. You have claimed him, your blood or not."
"Fine," Poseidon said, his temper starting to flare. "But if he turns out as despicable as even an eighth of what his mother had been like, you have just given yourself another problem. I refute my claim on him. You can make him half-immortal if you want, but I will have nothing to do with him!"
Artemis nodded in slighted agreement, polishing the tip of her arrow with a loving air, as though imagining how it would feel to puncture Richard's flesh.
"The boy is pretty disgusting, even by male standards. He keeps leering at my Hunters. The only reason he still remains to see the next day is because I thought he was under Uncle Poseidon's protection. Next time, I will turn him into a jackalope and let my Hunters take him down."
"Hey, I'm the only one allowed to leer at your Hunters!" Apollo said, shooting his twin a reproachful look. He fingered his bow, intent on staking his claim on his sister's Hunters.
Zeus intervened before a bickering match could convene between the two siblings. They would be there for days if that were to happen, and Zeus had no wish to be caught in the middle.
"Enough!" he rumbled, slamming his thunderbolt down on the arm of his chair. Ozone crackled and thunder boomed, the smell of a storm calming the other gods. When the noise quieted, he addressed his vehemently scowling brother. "Poseidon. Claim him for now, and when you find a replacement, replace him."
Poseidon's jaw was stubborn. "Fine," he said again. "And if he turns out as I say he will, mark my words, brother, he will be your problem to fix. I have already warned you."
Silence greeted his words, before Ares tactlessly broke it by bellowing that he chose Clarisse.
Hermes nominated both of the Stoll brothers. When the war god looked like he was going to protest, Aphrodite stomped on his foot, grinding the heel of her stiletto into Ares' boot, making a noticeable dent. The god winced and bit his tongue with a loud clack.
When all of the other gods were done, Zeus cleared his throat loudly.
"Let this meeting ad—"
The door burst open, and all the immortals could feel was a streak of displaced wind before a massive grey wolf pounced on the King of the Gods, claws ripping at his armor.
"Lupa!" Artemis shouted, jumping up from her throne, arrows in hand. "Calm yourself!"
'You knew!' the wolf howled, her fangs jutting out from her snarling lips. 'He is back and you pretend nothing has happened!'
"Thesis!" Hera barked, her form exploding into light, subsiding into that of Juno.
Lupa was caught unawares by the name and froze, her intelligent eyes widening in surprise. Artemis, changing into Diana, commanded as soothingly as she could, trying to work her wild magic on the angered wolf goddess.
"Who is back, Lupa?" she asked softly. "We do not know anything."
Lupa's anger rushed out, leaving her tired and worn, her entire body drooping with exhaustion.
'Zeus knows,' she hissed, but there was no venom left in her voice. 'I warned him, eons ago, not to defy those more powerful than he can even begin to imagine, but he would not listen to my advice. Now, all of Olympus will pay the price.'
Apollo sat up a little straighter. He didn't noticed that his earphones had slipped out of their place and were hanging loosely from his neck.
"Who is it, Lupa?" he said urgently. The goddess shook her head.
'One of the Old Ones.'
It was Athena who understood and it was she who sucked in a harsh breath, breaking the stony silence. "A Primordial?" she demanded. "Father, how could you be so stupid!"
"Wait, wait, hold up a sec," Ares grumbled. "What are you runts blathering about? A Primordial? What the Hades is that?"
Athena's grey eyes were stormy and calculating, as though her brain was running on overdrive. "When Chaos created the world, he formed it with different elements. But even he was not powerful enough to completely control them, since they were sentient and had a mind of their own. They broke off pieces of themselves, augmenting their power and taking on a human form. They were known as the Primordials."
Ares shrugged, reclining in his chair and propping his booted feet up. "So?" he drawled. "They're just elements that look human. They can't possibly exceed our own power. We could take them on, no problem."
"Fool!" Athena hissed, glancing around like she fully expected something to smite Ares into a puddle of godly goo. "They can draw power directly from their domain, something we are not refined enough to do. Any one of them, even the weaker ones, would be able to equally match or best at least two of us at the same time."
The council was silent.
'It is true,' Lupa's ears twitched. 'But you have forgotten that not only do they have enough raw power to level out the entire Earth, their reflexes and intelligence is much higher than ours. I have no doubt we would not stand a chance, should they try and end us.'
"Huh," Ares snorted, rolling his eyes at his fellow gods' antics. "I bet I could take on one of them and win. Dunno 'bout the rest of you weaklings, though."
Athena opened her mouth again, no doubt to beat Ares to the ground with her razor sharp tongue and even deadlier wit, but she was distracted when Hestia gave a most uncharacteristic cry.
Immediately, all conversations ceased.
Hestia was a gentle goddess, filled with compassion and warmth. Despite the Olympians' many rivalries and disagreements, they all had a soft spot in their hearts for her. She represented the good that was buried in their hearts. To hear her utter such a strangled sound made the others leap to their feet, ready to defend her from whatever had hurt her so.
The goddess of the Hearth had collapsed to her knees, her hands scrabbling helplessly at the Iris Message starting to form in the center of the hearth, undisrupted by the dying flames.
What the gods had taken to be a corpse slowly opened its eyes. Dark black, half dead eyes stared blankly into the message. A trickle of ichor stained the entire left side of his face golden, which shone black in the light.
A helm and a Stygian Ice sword was gripped in one slackened hand.
"T—Ta-artarus... Gaea—"
Whatever the god had been trying to tell them was cut off when a pale hand gripped him by the hair, hauling him up and forcing his neck to remain painfully exposed. Hades growled weakly, trying to defend himself from the unseen attacker, but his wrists and ankles were restrained by an invisible force.
Slender fingers wrapped around the god's chin, forcing his face upward to catch the light.
The Olympians hissed in a collective breath at the sight of Hades looking so... defeated. While many may loathe to admit it, there was a reason why he was known as one of the Big Three.
"Oh, darling—" the shadowed figure murmured, tracing a taloned finger deceptively gently against his cheek, smoothing away the dust and ichor. "I told you to submit and no harm would come to you..."
Hades said nothing, his mouth gritted in a stoic expression.
"It's of no use," the man beside the woman said, lazily flicking a massive broadsword around one finger. "The gods are stubborn. Headstrong. You would do better trying to persuade a mountain to move than one of them."
"Perhaps you are right," the woman finally said, releasing the death god, allowing him to collapse at her feet, breathing shallow, hitching breaths. "I—"
She caught the tell-tale shimmers of the Iris Message. The man hissed out a curse.
"So..." she muttered. "It seems like I've underestimated little Hades. Hello, Olympians. It's been a while."
"Who are you?" Athena demanded, her eyes flaring. "How dare you attack one of ours?"
The woman scoffed in disdain. "One of yours?" she repeated. "He has never been one of yours. Why else would you keep him away from Olympus and abandon him to rot in the Underworld?"
"We have not—" Zeus began angrily.
"Ah, yes, his domain is here," she continued, as though Zeus had never spoken. "But Hephaestus strays from the forge. Poseidon leaves the ocean. Apollo is not constantly herding the sun. No, Hades is the only god trapped by his own, and you have no right to insinuate any different."
"You are treading on thin ground," Zeus warned, his infamous temper starting to rear its head. The woman only laughed, an ugly, murky sound, like the gurgling of quicksand before it pulls you under.
"It is impossible for me to walk on thin ground." She moved into the light, flinging her hood back with careless abandon. Zeus' eyes widened as she bared her fang-like teeth in a smile. "After all, I am the earth itself."
"You!" Poseidon snarled, his attention finally diverted to Gaea. "You're supposed to be asleep in Tartarus!"
The man stepped forward, allowing the sea god his first proper look at him. Thin and gaunt, his ragged, unkempt hair brushed the edges of his chin. Once upon a time, there was no doubt he was very handsome, but insanity had ravaged his face and left his eyes resembling that of a madman's.
"Now why would I do that?"
Lupa drew back, her ears flattening to her skull. 'Tartarus, you fool!' she howled.
Surprised, the man faltered, his luminescent eyes resting on the wolf. Abruptly, he began to laugh, revealing gleaming white teeth—a snake's venomous smile. The sound was maniac.
"Thesis!" he bellowed. "I see Chaos has not relented in his punishment, nor has Order rectified it. Fool that you are, hiding away among the gods like a coward."
Lupa growled low in her throat, her eyes angry and cold. 'I am no coward, traitor.'
The man —Tartarus— smirked maliciously at the visibly trembling goddess, turning back to Gaea with a petulant look on his ragged face.
"We ought to go, darling," he said, sibilant. "Throw the god into my Pit. The others will not be able to find them there."
"Very well, Tartarus," Gaea murmured. Turning back to the silenced gods, she smiled viciously. "And for you, my dear grandchildren... you will soon be where you belong. Get ready to die."
The message was torn into mist with a shriek of air.
"There will be no escape."
Pandemonium exploded. It could only be described as such.
Zeus raised his Master Bolt, letting a streak of molten lightning erupt from the end, shaking the foundation of Olympus where it stood.
"Silence!" he thundered. The other gods continued to bicker over his attempts to silence them.
Poseidon scowled, slamming the butt of his trident on the ground two times. Shockwaves spread out from the impact point, knocking the thrones back a few inches. Gallons of seawater materialized from the ceiling, thoroughly drenching everything beneath it. Aphrodite shrieked when her makeup ran and plucked a crab from where it was attempting to crawl underneath her dress.
Athena turned back to Ares, who had a keen, bloodthirsty grin on his face in anticipation of war, despite being soaked to the bone.
"Still think you can take on a Primordial?" she asked acidly, watching his grin falter. "Gaea and Tartarus aren't even the most powerful ones, and it would be doubtful all of us combined could take them down."
'No,' Lupa agreed. 'You would not be able to succeed. The only one who can successfully take down a Primordial is another Primordial. Of course, it would also be preferable if you were able to persuade Thanatos, seeing as Gaea has most likely opened the doors of Tartarus and as the lieutenant of Death, he would be the next best thing.'
"Then why don't we do that?" Hermes asked, combing seaweed out of his salt-and-pepper hair. Lupa only shook her head in disgust.
'Zeus has gained his ire. While Thanatos is not an immortal known to hold grudges, he is one who takes promises very seriously. Who do you think came up with the plan to make Kronos regurgitate his children? If it was only mustard and wine in that mixture, nothing would have happened. There were poisons mixed in with the drink, ones lost to time and to our knowledge. In return, Zeus promised not to have full power as King of the Gods; decisions must be run through by the Council and all of those affected by the change first. Any children of the gods would be claimed, instead of allowing them to be led into a fate of loneliness and regret and hatred.'
"That was all?" Athena said incredulously. "Most times, requesting the help of a Primordial requires some very drastic sacrifices. The soul of an immortal, for one."
Lupa gave a slight shrug. 'Per—ah, Thanatos-' no one noticed her slip of tongue, 'is not a vindictive Primordial, unlike Pontus or Tartarus. He prefers to stay in the shadows and maintain the precarious balance of the world, occasionally helping those he deems to be worthy.'
"And how would you know all of this?" Demeter asked, absently changing the floral print of her dress to delphiniums (bravery), lavender (distrust), and back again.
Hesitating, Lupa glanced at Juno, who nodded encouragingly.
"It is best to get everything out now," the Queen said.
Lupa grimaced, but stared Demeter in the eye defiantly, daring her to make any accusations.
'I am Thesis, Primordial of Redemption. Once upon a time, I lived among the most powerful deities of the world and was feared among the nations. But a heavy mistake cost me, and Chaos cast me from the dimension, where I landed on earth. I am trapped in this form until one of them relinquishes the illusion's hold on me.'
"You are... one of them?" Diana uttered in pure disbelief. "Then by theory, you should be older than even Zeus, and even stronger."
Ignoring the King of the God's spluttered protests, Lupa only shook her head. 'Perhaps I was, once upon a time, but most of my strength has been locked away, and I doubt much of it actually remains. No, it is not to I who you should be asking for advice. It is to the others, the ones that I have long left behind.'
"How would we be able to contact them?" Hermes asked curiously, his knowledge of roads and travel sparking his interest.
Lupa gave them a wolfish grin. 'I was thrown off,' she reminded them dryly. 'But I think it would work in the same way as Hermes' mail service and Iris' messages. If they were to collaborate with Athena on the matter, I believe they would be able to come up with a temporary solution before time runs out.'
A quick glance around showed that said gods were willing and infinitely intrigued by the possibility of inter-dimensional travel.
"Very well," Athena conceded. "But one last thing; what did you do to be punished so harshly?"
Lupa —Thesis— was silent for a long time.
'Chaos had a... a son, one he had with the mage Lamia. She was of unsurpassed beauty, and with her voice, she was able to charm anyone to do anything with no possibility to throw off her enchantment. It was called Lamia's Curse, for she passed it on to her eldest son.'
Aphrodite cocked her head. "That sounds like my charmspeak."
'Yes,' Lupa agreed. 'If your charmspeak could boil blood and rupture organs, then yes, it would be exactly like your charmspeak.'
Aphrodite turned green at the thought.
'I was assigned to watch over his son, for Chaos could not be known to have an illegitimate heir, especially not one with a Mage, who were considered non human, the equivalent of monsters to us. Despite my best attempts, I was forced into submission while a group of masked deities killed the boy's mother as he was forced to watch."
Hera frowned. Despite never having met the child before, she could not help but feel pity for him. Such ravaging did not go without scars.
'He killed them all, except for one, who escaped before he could comprehend what he had just done. The boy disappeared the day after, most likely dead or condemned into a fate worse than death. A few months later, the remaining survivor was killed, but not by the boy. Nothing has been heard from him since.'
"I like this kid!" Ares bellowed, ignoring Aphrodite's scowl and sharp jab to his ribs.
'In his anger and grief, Chaos threw me from the world. I am unsure of what happened next.'
"That's quite a story—"
"No haikus!" Artemis interrupted, bashing Apollo on the head with her bow. The sun god scowled.
"I wasn't going to!" he protested. "I just wanted to ask how old he was when all of this happened. You know, because knowing all of the super powerful Primordials, he might have still been in diapers."
Lupa's nose twitched in amusement. 'He was very young, but old enough to be a mercenary. Chaos never found it necessary to tell me his exact age. It does not matter now.'
Athena got to her feet. "While it has been most enjoyable to talk aimlessly, we must hurry if we are to find a means of travel before Gaea attacks. Father, it would be wise to inform the camps about the dangers, so that they are able to prepare themselves."
Zeus gave a short jerk of his head, relieved that the conversation had turned towards less precarious subjects. "Hermes will inform Chiron about all we have discussed, while Lupa shall bring the news back to her own camp. Is this agreeable? Yes? Fine. This meeting is adjourned."
-X-
"What do you think this is about?"
Reyna glanced over at Jason, the sunlight streaming in from the window painting his hair a beautiful golden color. Tearing her eyes away, she stared stoically at a point in the distance without really seeing it, gathering her composure.
"I'm not sure," she said, omitting the fact that it may very well have something to do with Thanatos. Meeting his eyes, she debated telling him —they were both praetors, and it would do well for him to know the same information— but she was saved from having to make the decision when Lupa stalked in, her tail curling around her legs, looking decidedly more composed than the last time Reyna had seen her.
'Praetors,' she growled. They stood up, bowing respectfully to the Mother of Rome, who inclined her head in return.
Jason glanced at Reyna, and when he noticed that she wasn't going to say anything, he opened his mouth. "Lupa, what is going on? Is the camp in trouble?"
Lupa did not answer the question.
'You may wish to sit down,' her nose twitched out. The two Romans looked nervously at each other before complying, sweeping their purple capes out so they would not sit on it.
'There is no way to soften the news, so I shall reiterate it bluntly. Terra has awaken from her slumber, and has enlisted the help of Tartarus."
"As in the Pit?"
'Correct. Tartarus is a Primordial, as is Terra, so it is highly unlikely that the gods will be be able to conquer them without help. Mercury, Arcus, and Minerva are working on a possibility of finding a mode of travel that will allow them to possibly enlist some allies. Soon, the gods will be issuing a quest to explore the new dimension and to persuade any Old Ones you come across for aid.'
Jason leaned back in his throne, suitably flabbergasted. Reyna remained perched on the edge of her seat, hands clasped tightly in her lap.
"And what will our task be?"
Lupa's ear flicked. 'You will lead part of the quest, while Jason will stay behind to maintain order in the Camp.'
"Is that wise?" Jason asked. "Splitting us up like that, I mean. Especially in a time like this, wouldn't it be better if we both stayed or both went?"
'Under normal circumstances, that would be correct. However, while Terra poses a very real threat, one of you should be enough to satisfy the needs of the camp. Reyna, you shall be taking a group of demigods with you when the time comes. I would suggest using this time to evaluate the skill sets of those in the camp and be prepared.'
Reyna stood and bowed, Jason quickly doing the same.
"I will, Lupa. Is there anything else?"
'No. You are dismissed.'
They left.
As Reyna walked into the sunlight outside, trailing behind Jason, she couldn't help but wonder why a cold thrill went down her spine, as though she'd just signed her death sentence.