What is this story?
Well, it might be a bit late to wonder that now, am I right?
Oh, how wrong you are. We are here in the 13th chapter. We are here a bit before this story separate itself from the official timeline. We are here for… Well, you're her to read, and I'm here to write.
I have other projects (in French), and this story was… A beta test. I am here testing characters that I want to include or not in my other stuff. I am here to see how my characters develop, how I can manage to write them, and everything.
And I'm going to include them now, one after the other, in this story. That means that my double version of Percy Jackson was entirely designed for this story. That means that now is time to make this story what I always wrote on the front-page: It's a spiritual quest. Not only for redemption, but for something more… For stability.
That means Hestia.
That means (on a complete different level) Nyx.
This character is officially included I this story. This chapter is for her, for this character that I wish to develop more, that I wish to make three dimensional: not just "I'm the night" kind of vibe, but more like the kind of vibe I always got when I was reading about the primordials.
That's a fucked-up family.
Olympians are too, of course, but primordials… We are standing here on a different level of fucked-up. And (ironically), I don't see them as force of chaos. I don't think they would see the constructions of the gods and mortals, and say: let's destroy all of it.
Because mankind has always, as far as we can remember, done one thing: Tame the elements.
We can now predict where seism will strike (not when, that's still sad), where we can have a volcano, how the air, how the sea will react…
We are able to hold the sea, and as a few of Rick Riordan's character would say: "the sea doesn't like to be contained".
To me, if there are primordials (which I absolutely don't believe, by the way) out there, we are taming them, slowly.
That's why I don't want Gaea to be evil. Her family is fucked-up, of course, and I think that Kronos is, but… not mother earth.
Oh, and I think too that now is the time that I begin to explain what caused Gaea to stir up earlier, what cause me to be able to write Chronos and Kronos and to still talk about the same character. Because, yes, I know they're not. But I need Kronos to be… different.
I need time to stand united against… well, against Olympus' darkest hope. I still have to justify that title, by the way!
Nyx was currently in her throne room. And in half of the outside world. She was lonely, Erebus having faded long ago. She was thinking about him a lot, lately. This time would have been such fun for him… And for Chronos.
Ironically, Chronos didn't got the same fate as her husband. He was her favorite brother, always here to play when they were children, and… well, only time can get night upon you.
Time and Tartarus. The place where it's always the darkest night, the cruelest time, the weirdest brother… He had been fun too. Before… Before Gaea began to sleep.
And Chaos knows how Nyx loved her sister. How she wished too to see her awoken once again. Just to see if she could finally stop to try to kill everything that isn't peaceful to her…
Because even if Night forgives you every sin, the earth knows how to hold grudges.
But she still had to be forgiven for what her son did. Her favorite son, just… He tasted power.
The brat killed Ouranos. What a big deal! He killed his father (a terrible father, but killing that kind of people is still hard to forgive), and he tasted power. The black sheep gained power, time gained its weapon, and soon began to reap.
Reap, over and over, and over.
Reap everyone it could, reap everything.
And then time met the only thing able to truly defeat him: a paradox. A simple paradox.
Time was two beings. One of ichor and meat, and one of pure power, pure time. Divided was time.
What happened next wasn't something that Nyx had prepared. Nor understood completely. Time reunited.
And the son of earth got the upper hand. And Kronos became time. He stole everything, her brother's power, her brother's name… Everything.
He basically stole time.
And the only thing keeping him from winning against the Olympians? Ananke.
Time and Fate fought. Fate won. And now, Ananke was nowhere to be seen since… her victory.
Nyx couldn't care less about the Olympians. But she wanted time to be her kind brother again, not her mad nephew.
She wanted too to have Gaea back. For one reason: the prophecy of the seven.
Seven half-bloods shall answer the call,
To storm or fire, the world must fall,
An oath to keep with a final breath,
And foes bear arms to the Doors of Death
When your sister is the world, you try to protect her, right? And they could kill two birds with one stone; together they find Ananke, who changes the prophecy, defeat Time again, and everything will be alright!
She learned the prophecy while a foolish quest was trying to get to Alaska. So, she watched every powerful bearer of both storm and fire. She's night, right? She could see them when they were the weakest, feel their powers, try to unravel the prophecy…
And one day she found the bearer of storm. A young male demigod. A son of Poseidon. Another oath on her daughter thrown to… you get the idea.
It took her two years to wake Gaea while ensuring she would go under the radars, don't let her stir, don't let her move to much.
Tell Gaea about the plan, give her all the data accumulated.
Percy Jackson would be dead before becoming a threat.
The palace of Nyx was in Tartarus. She felt the wave of… less hatred? Hey, in Tartarus, that's a HUGE deal!
So when both her brother and her sister arrived, she wasn't surprised.
When she saw that Gaea had somehow managed to capture an Olympian, she was very interested.
Wait. Why wasn't the goddess in chains? Please tell Nyx that the giggling being in her sister's arm wasn't… dead? Why wasn't he at least afraid? Oh no. The world is falling!
"Dear sister", began Nyx, with a very calm tone from her point of view, "if you want to kill the demigod, I would appreciate if you didn't plan to do it in my palace."
"Calm down sis'", said Gaia, "I don't plan to kill him. I think he likes me."
On the surface, the part of the world where the sun didn't shine (not that part) saw some lights.
"You don't plan to kill him?"
"We plan to raise him.", said Tartarus.
"You already have one family!"
"Yes", said Hestia calmly. "But honestly, Nyx, this family of Gaia is about as messed up as mine."
"Then why don't you goddess leave and repair it?"
"Because the roots of discords are in mother earth. If I end her problems, slowly this should propagate to the entire branch of the family."
"That won't work."
"Maybe. But what's wrong about hoping… What's wrong about helping my grandma to raise my adoptive uncle?"
"He's your nephew.", pointed out Nyx.
"That's not the most messed up thing in immortal families that had ever happened."
That made all the immortals chuckle.
"So, what is Olympus waiting for me?" asked Nyx as if it was a joke.
"Yeah, by the way… I'm totally doing that behind their back. Just, so you know, I'll help you as long as you're a loving family."
That's how Perseus Jackson, children of the prophecy of the seven, became the heir of both Gaia and Tartarus.
That's how he began to dig his way into his new family.
Let' take back to an 8 years old Percy, will you?
5 years later
Percy Jackson was good with a sword.
That had to be expected.
He was a clever child, able to quickly make plans up, as if the only reason why Poseidon's children weren't clever was because they were told it was impossible. After learning how to use shadows, he quickly developed a real affection for them. And most amazingly, he had this power to create the emotion he wanted in any immortal he met. They understood that after he began to be chased by some araes began to chase him in all Tartarus.
And then he somehow submitted them under his command.
When Aunty Nyx, as he said, asked him how he did it, he simply said that Tartarus was the pit of pain and every creature, alive or not feared pain. Show them what's agony, and you'll be the most feared being in this world.
Nyx since then remembered his birthday every year, imagining each time a different present.
Today was a sparring session.
The sword was a single handed one.
On the contrary of what you could believe, single handed swords aren't much for offense, they often let the place for a shield, and don't make so much precise blow. They need large movement, a lot of strength, and a good ability to use a shield. This doesn't mean you can't do some precise trick. It just makes it harder. In fact, for precision, the best is to use a very light sword, two-handed.
And Percy's sword was heavy. This isn't necessarily a problem. This is a different strategy. Your goal with this is to stun your enemy. In fact, against good armors (generally the heavy ones), a heavy sword is the best solution. In those cases, the enemy isn't just jumping around, he is reducing his movements to their minimum, each should be efficient. This mean less preparation and ability to dodge. This means that slow blows hit.
When Tartarus in his shadow-form entered the circle, the issue of this fight had already been decided.
Percy was going to lose. No maiming, no kill. Just yielding under powerful blows. The fact is that Tartarus wouldn't use his real strength. No powers.
The real question was how long could Percy last?
If Percy could last long enough, then it was good enough for him to flee a fight against a much more powerful opponent.
Percy steadied his blade, prepared his shield.
Tartarus jumped.
Roll, get out.
Jump out of the blow's range. Block the second one. Go a bit back.
Then jump forward, sword forward, under the guard.
Attack blocked.
Position incorrect. Enemy has detected this. Back up. Recompose the defense. No opening.
Attack incoming. Dodge on the right. Move backward, turn around. Attack blocked.
Move forward. Attack blocked.
Attack blocked.
Attack blocked.
Attack dodged.
Attack incoming. Rolling. Blocked.
It's time to be hell.
Attack.
Attack.
Attack.
Attack.
Attack.
Attack.
Attack.
Percy was relentlessly blocking the attacks from his father. They were coming faster and faster, and the blade was coming always nearest to his neck.
He rolled backward. Bad idea with a shield.
He was on the floor, with basically no momentum. So, he did what he was taught to do: he improvised.
His muscles readied as he pushed with all his strength on the floor, pulling him up in an instant… Only to find his father's sword under his throat.
He made a step backward.
The blade made a step forward.
He jumped backward while making an attack.
Grave mistake. The blade didn't move. He had just met an unmoving obstacle. And he wasn't an unstoppable force.
His sword only proposed him slightly on the side, making him lose whatever control he had over his trajectory. He lost his balance. He fell on the ground. He had lost.
When he yielded, his father showed him how much time he survived: 5 seconds.
Shadows were moving in the arena, showing Percy when and where his father could have easily killed him, where and when he was in checkmate and only escaped because nobody wanted to hurt one another.
He began to train harder, to push rocks and shadows (which, once solidified, are surprisingly heavy).
When he passed nine years old, his musculature was one of a warrior. And he began to do less and less mistakes. While he had always been great at improvising, he began to develop strategies more complexes, making swipes in the air to position his enemy where he wanted.
Then they began to train with his powers. If Percy ever challenged an Olympian (and that was entirely possible to his parents since he was always challenging every immortal he didn't like), he had to be on toe to toe with them. In fact, as Gaia often said; "the devil is in the details".
That made Tartarus chuckle for a reason.
But that made Percy look at his powers under a different angle.
He could never hope to defeat an Olympian in a full battle. In fact, if he ever became as powerful as one, Nyx said his body would burn from the ichor in his cells. And Nyx wasn't joking with this kind of things.
So he had to don't use more power than an Olympian, but to use them better. First, at night. With the protection of his aunt. Second, on his battlefield. Third, with precision.
He began to train on using weapons and shapes from the shadows, to make them move even when he was not around (In fact he had a pet rock that really moved, even when its master wasn't nearby).
He was now known in the entire Arae population as the uncursable one. Not a real word, and to some of them, not a real person. I mean, come on! A son of Tartarus that chased after pain bringers! It was as if he and Gaia had a peaceful son! Oh wait…
Damasen was free of his curse. Yep, like that. Now he behaved like a normal peaceful monster, reaching the surface somehow (even himself didn't know how he really did), and he enjoyed life as a simple human, changing cities a lot in a state named Finland or Suomi, that's weird.
He then became a simple man, with simple preoccupations. Of course, snakes began to fear him a bit, but he was happy.
And passed the polar circle.
This chapter was… something else. When I write it, we're the 23th December and it's the first one I make out of the first rush (because yes the 12 first chapters were written at the same time).
To me, the last chapter was just released, and I was still keeping my weekly chapter in the hope to give you two on the day of Christmas (hop I did, because it's in the future to me). I really wanted to thank you all for your encouraging messages. I try to answer them all, but I really can't with the guests.
Oh and I miscalculated my "merry Christmas and happy new year", didn't I?
Wow, I imagine we'll be in the end of January when I'll publish this… Hope you're not too lost!