A/N: More war, though I think I'll end it next chapter. Most of the pieces have fallen for the rest of the storyline.
Chapter 14-
It was past nightfall when Percy snuck back into camp, waiting for the shift change of Hunters to slip by undetected. Hydrus had been taken over in an instant, and now the six remaining spirits of love were waiting for their hosts. One of them would take Thalia, then the five remaining would go to Hylla, Reyna, Frank, and the Stoll brothers. It was a good plan; Lyra and her spirit had hammered out the details and would tell him next time they met.
He didn't expect Artemis to be standing in the center of his tent, arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently.
"I ordered you to stay in your tent, Percy." she growled, "What are you doing?"
Percy felt the emotionless mask come over his face again as he slipped into the persona of the Hunt's Servant. "I was collecting wildflowers, Lady Artemis."
"And why, pray tell, were you collecting wildflowers?"
"I was ordered to, Lady Artemis."
The goddess nodded, "Very well."
She left and Percy unwound, collapsing on the bed and falling into a deep sleep. Not dreamless, however. Far from it.
-Dream-Dream-Dream-Dream-Dream-Dream-Dream-Dream-Dream-Dream-
Percy opened his eyes to see himself being whipped by Hades himself. This time, though, there was a person next to him that wasn't Artemis.
Himeros was a tall man, physically perfect with a warm, loving smile that he turned on Perseus. His host wouldn't have to deal with these dreams if he could help it.
"Look at me, Perseus." he intoned, charmspeak coloring an already rich voice.
Percy's head turned and beheld the angel among men that was a spirit of love given form.
He held out a hand, and took Percy from the room, far away.
"This is still your dream, Perseus. That makes it mine as well." Himeros said, leading Percy to an empty room -the layout of Hades' fortress hadn't changed in the last few hundred years. A wave of his hand and there was a flawless white bed in the center of the room.
Percy was shuddering, his own screams echoing in her ears as he remembered being whipped.
Himeros effortlessly hoisted him onto the bed, putting earplug in the demigod's ears before summoning a chair for himself, "Sleep, Perseus. Sleep deeply, without the troubles of your past. Let my voice guide you into the formless infinite, the dreamless unconsciousness that you have yearned for. Let it guide you away from the torture of others and the treacherous goddess. Let it make your eyes close and you breathing slow until you see naught but the shapeless layers of a dreamless sleep."
On the bed, Percy was snoring softly, a little drool leaking from the side of his mouth.
Himeros stood, summoning a handkerchief to wipe off the spittle.
"Hmm. You drool when you sleep." He chuckled, "No host is perfect, I suppose."
Then he stepped outside, the door disappearing into the wall -let Artemis try and find him now.
The spirit strode through the dark hallways of Hades' citadel before going back to the whipping chamber. Perseus was still there, screaming as the skin of his back was shredded. Artemis looked on, still horrified as every other night there was a new technique used on her Servant, a new tool or even just a new level of brutality. It was a wonder Percy even survived.
Himeros, for his part, looked on impassively. He absorbed Perseus' words, how he screamed, how he reacted to each lick of the whip. It was his job to understand his host, and no clearer baring of one's soul came than when he or she was pushed past all the limits of their body.
Perseus' arms and legs were broken in a dozen different places, his back more blood than skin. His fingers were shattered, his jaw broken. But he didn't beg for death. Hades lifted his sword -with a key in the hilt- and asked him if he wanted to die, but Percy never gave in. It was a crude sort of defiance -Percy still had something to live for, but he didn't seem to want to escape Hades' blows.
The spirit sneered at Artemis' form, her angry face and horrified expression. She probably didn't notice half of the things he did.
Soon enough, she would be Percy's servant.
-Dream Ends-Dream Ends-Dream Ends-Dream Ends-Dream Ends-
Percy woke up peacefully for the first time in months.
You're awake. Good. Himeros said. I believe we're moving again today.
Thanks for yesterday night.
No problem. No one deserves to be tortured like that, much less relive the memory every other night. Artemis will pay for that.
She'd better. The demigod swung his legs from the bed, feeling golden. Not Imperial Golden, though. He was still a ways off from that.
Himeros was correct -they were moving out, and would engage Hades' army by midday.
Not that Percy would be fighting. Who would trust the man who put the whole Ares cabin in the hospital?
Zeus certainly didn't.
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Artemis narrowed her eyes; The skeleton horde looked a little too open. There was barely a semblance of military formation, and the flags of five two undead generals and three Furies.
Then half a dozen roars shook the world as six drakons charged from the forest, six engines of destruction barrelling straight at the surprised -if skeletons were capable of that- army. Bones were snapped beneath massive armored feet, crushed between dagger-like teeth, or melted by the acid that spewed from their mouth.
Harpies and storm spirits swooped down on the skeleton's turned backs, and Olympus went to war.
Monsters and demigods charged, ramming into the undead troops with the confidence of heavily outnumbering their enemy. The troops of the sea -Cyclopses and mermen, mostly- hit the other side of the horde, following in the breach the drakons created.
Then things started going wrong. A bolt of blue light arced out from the center of the horde, vaporizing two of the drakons. Again and again it fired, both into the ranks of monsters and finishing off the last of the drakons.
Artemis narrowed her eyes even further, picking out Poseidon's Trident right underneath Rommel's banner. She scowled, "Hunters! Volley on the eagle! Two . . . one!"
A flight of silver arrows raced over the skeleton horde, forcing Nico to duck angrily. He didn't know why Will volunteered to hold Rommel's banner -it certainly made a big target.
Unknown to them, Rommel wasn't there anymore. Under the cover of darkness, he and the troops under his command snuck away.
Casting her gaze around the battlefield, Athena smiled triumphantly. The troops of Hades were surrounded and cut off from any form of retreat, to be smashed into pieces by the combined force of monsters, demigods, and nature spirits. The pity was she couldn't take part in the fighting.
That's when Rommel arrived -and arrived in force. His thousand skeletons slammed into the weakest link of the chain -the minor gods. Athena had placed them with Camp Half-Blood on one side and Camp Jupiter and the Hunt on the other to shore up the weak force -but she wasn't expecting them to be attacked from behind.
The line fell apart as Rommel's men pierced it in a dozen places, scattering the minor gods like leaves in the wind.
Athena looked murderous with rage; How did a mere son of Hades outwit her?
Artemis led the Hunters to split Rommel's horde apart, but it wasn't enough. There were no more brilliant tactics here, no stunning moves. Now the battle was a slaughter, and Thanatos watched from high above -he stayed neutral in every conflict. After all, Death was universal . . . . . Just like chocolate.
Eventually, the superior numbers of the mixed monster-Olympus force began to tell, the noose tightening around the mob of skeletons. Dust, bones, and blood made footing uneven, but the majority of the Hunt had done this before. Some of the Greek campers couldn't handle it, but no one blamed them. Monsters, demigods, and nature spirits alike screamed and died -the dead didn't scream as their bones were crushed, but crushed they were.
Percy watched it all through the lenses of a pair of binoculars Lyra had lent him, seeing Artemis duck and spin as she defeated skeleton after skeleton, fighting her way through the horde. He watched a Greek slip in the blood and fall, then was ran through by a skeleton's spear. This wasn't a nice, clean battle between demigods and monsters; This wasn't an epic clash of armies, either. This was war, and war is hell.
Lyra was watching as well, though much closer to the battlefield. Her sight was reserved for Resuza, and Resuza alone. If her "daughter" was injured, she was charging in with swords drawn -consequences be damned.
Hydrus crawled up next to the son of Poseidon, "Eros says he'd rather be on the battlefield."
Himeros snorted, He would. He was always the most violent of us. This kind of slaughter is the evil that the gods produce, Perseus. Soon there must be a new person on the throne of Olympus, or the council will tear itself apart.
He looked at the battlefield through Percy's eyes. This is horrible. Lives are wasted for no purpose but a grudge between two gods, yet the gods themselves don't show their faces. War is always like this, the ones who care for others slaughtered by people just like them, while the ones who can coldly barter life like this look down on them, safe behind the lines.
"Himeros doesn't like this." Percy replied, "Why aren't the werewolves here?"
Hydrus snorted, "Lycaon isn't an idiot. He knows not to join either side of this -not Hades, 'cause he's gonna be smashed flat, and not Zeus 'cause the Hunters'll kill us all. So he's hunting down Lupa's wolves and taking her apart. Once they're gone, we'll attack the Hunt."
"And just so you know, if you break Lyra's heart, I'll break your neck." the werewolf was suddenly much more threatening, "She's worth way more than you."
Percy scowled but kept silent.
Don't worry, Perseus. Hydrus just doesn't like that Lyra kissed you before he could size you up. Himeros said helpfully, Take it from the expert -have a thick skin for Hydrus, and go along with whatever Lyra wants.
Okay. Percy thought back. Are you sure you're okay with most of the Hunt being killed?
I told you already, once we merge our goals align. Whatever we do, we both thought up. If you're fine with it, I am as well.
Oh . . . I remembered that.
I'm sure. Himeros replied, amusement coloring his voice. It was so easy to ignore the war going on almost two miles away. Hydrus is poking through your mind, by the way. Well, trying to. I'm feeding him a lot of useless memories of mine.
Thanks.
Hydrus frowned -after the failed attempt last time they met, Lyra had asked him to try again. But all he could find was memories of staring at a cell wall or talking to a previous host.
Percy turned to look at him, "If you want to know something, just ask."
The werewolf scowled, "Fine. Lyra wanted to know why sometimes you seem dull and emotionless and other times you're normal."
"I have two souls. Kind of." Percy shrugged, "It's weird, but something like one soul has the memories of me growing up and you know, being normal for the most part, and the other just has . . . umm . . ."
A little help here, Himeros?
Your other self has the memories of being tortured by Hades.
I was tortured by Hades?!
Yes, you were.
"And the other has memories of being tortured by Hades."
Hydrus nodded slowly, "Mind if I take a peek?"
"Fine."
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Artemis ducked an axe, skewering it's owner through the skull before tearing her knife out. The skeleton fell, but another took it's place.
Then the crowd of fighters to either side surged, separating the two for a minute.
The Hunters were doing well; The newer ones were dragging older, wounded Hunters off the battlefield and helping Huiliang and Celyn give first aid. Some of them, probably a good number of them, would be dead after this battle. She could only hope it would be worth their sacrifice.
Slowly, ever so slowly, she could start to make out Triton on the other side of the field. Aphros was right beside him, swinging his broadsword with amazing strength and knocking enemies aside wherever he went -why he taught humanities, Artemis had no idea.
Chiron, like the Hunters, had set up a triage area with Asclepius and his daughters. Apollo was also present, with Paean making sure he doesn't mess up. Most of the minor gods were there after Rommel's attack, along with a few dozen Greeks and even some Romans, all groaning in pain or silent in death.
None of the Hunters were there -they'd end up skewering Apollo halfway through, even if he wasn't the one treating them. The Hunt, in general, got along with Chiron and Asclepius -some of the older ones knew his daughters well- but they would still rather have Celyn treat them. It wasn't the best system, but it worked and that's all that mattered.
Artemis snarled, "Rommel."
The German smiled, speaking fluent English -even if it was heavily accented, "Lady Artemis. It is pleasing to finally make your acquaintance. I must say, you and your Hunt gave me much trouble in Africa."
"We're good at that." she drew her knives and Rommel sighed, slinging a shield from his back and drawing a short spear.
Artemis charged, but Rommel knocked her arms aside with his shield and drove the butt of his spear into her ribs. The goddess took a step back; He was good, almost as good as a few of her Hunters.
Nowhere near as good as she was.
They fought back and forth, Artemis' flashing knives opening cuts all over his body until he made a disastrous mistake. He stepped a foot too far back, hitting a patch of blood and slipping. Artemis lunged, burying the knives in his throat. Blood, red blood, ran down the blades as the goddess lifted him, yanking a knife out and plunging it through his heart.
With his heart pierced, his jugular cut, and his vocal cords destroyed so he couldn't even scream, Erwin Rommel choked on his last breath. Blood ran out of his mouth, staining Artemis' parka and auburn hair.
Artemis threw the body down, her knives coming out with a wet shlick. Across the battlefield, Triton faced off with Hermann Balck, the best German general no one had ever heard of.
Balck wielded two short spears while Triton used a trident and net -like Artemis and Rommel, they weren't evenly matched in the slightest.
The German charged, trying to overwhelm the son of Poseidon with a barrage of short thrusts, but Triton gave way and swung his net. It landed perfectly, trapping Balck's right arm.
Triton lunged, his trident sinking into his opponent's body. Much like Artemis, he lifted the German into the air before drawing a dagger and plunging it into Balck's throat. He would take no chances. Blood ran down the Sea Prince's arms, a stark contrast to the sea-green armor that he wore.
The Furies flew away as well, one at a time, and without them the skeleton horde lost it's formation. No longer did they fix breaches in their lines, no longer did they counter-attack against their enemy. They still fought, but with the single-minded purpose of killing.
It wasn't much longer before they were completely destroyed, their bones ground into meal and their equipment scattered across the field.
In the center, Artemis turned to her Hunters, "Good job. Thalia . . . Pheobe, lead them back to camp. I'll be at a council."
Then she flashed away, leaving Pheobe to rally the Hunt and lead them away. When they got to the triage, Celyn was treating Thalia for a huge cut across her stomach while Huiliang was bandaging Baccina where a lucky arrow caught her right arm.
Pheobe was spotless save for the blood and dust of monsters and demigods, along with two others. The rest either had light injuries or were groaning in pain on Celyn's stretchers.
"Is there anyone we can't move?"
Celyn slowly shook her head, almost unconscious from using far too much of her father's powers.
"Naomi, you're on funeral detail. Take as many as you need to carry them all." Pheobe ordered, "Everyone else pair up and take a stretcher."
The assembled Hunters nodded, the adrenaline of battle leaving their systems. It was time to give one, final effort and take their wounded and dead sisters to camp. There would be a lot of graves to dig.
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When Artemis entered the command tent, Hecate had just left. The problem was, her new map still didn't show the armies in LA.
Athena pointed to the map, "As you can see, the banner that was trying to reached these five has retreated into the Underworld."
"Or it's being hidden from the map as well." Ares growled.
"We haven't retrieved the Trident from this battlefield, either. It was likely shadow-traveled into the Underworld again. From Ares' report, the number of minor gods still able to fight is now three after Rommel's attack."
"Rommel?" Aphrodite asked, filing her nails.
Everyone ignored her, "We have confirmed kills of every enemy commander present today, save for Nico di Angelo and the Furies."
"He has a habit of surviving." Artemis commented, "First in the Labyrinth, then in Tartaurus, then Rome, and now here."
"Your point is?"
"My point is he can shadow-travel in the middle of the day, has the Trident, and has a level of power equal or even surpassing Jason Grace, my Lieutenant, or even Perseus Jackson." the Goddess of the Hunt replied, "We must make him a priority."
"He is a minor threat compared to Hades." Athena turned her gaze to Zeus, "Speaking of which, today cannot be considered a victory. For every life, there are generations of the dead, and Hades most likely has millions of skeletons just waiting in the Underworld. This cost him nothing."
"What do you propose?" Zeus asked.
"If we could assembled a team of the best demigods and legacies, and have them sacrifice the Ophiotaurus-"
The King cut her off, "No! I will not allow a demigod to have to power to kill gods!"
Athena gritted her teeth, "We'd have to fight our way to New York, somehow stop Hades from using Orpheus' Passage as a bottleneck, take on his armies in their homeland, and lay siege to his impregnable fortress."
"Nothing's ever impregnable." Artemis stepped in, siding with Zeus in speech. In truth, she had defied him more often than not, but retained the "favorite daughter" title purely because she supported Zeus whenever there was a council.
Athena glared at her, "There is no way we can win this! Zero chance. Sacrificing the Ophiotaurus is our only choice!"
"Then get us another choice." Zeus growled.
Finally, the goddess submitted, "I'll start drawing up plans. In the meantime, I would suggest we take tomorrow to rest and bury our dead."
"Granted. Council dismissed."
Aphrodite immediately pulled Ares into a deep kiss, and they flashed away -no doubt keen to celebrate the "victory" that Ares took no part in. Hephaestus scowled at the empty air -even at war, she could still find ways to cheat on him- before flashing away as well. Athena disappeared to start coordinating the march to New York while Hermes ran off to collect casualty lists -there would be a lot of them.
Only one of them thought of the people who died as more than numbers on a list. Only one would truly mourn her fallen. Only one would truly bury her dead.
Artemis flashed away, dreading the task that was ahead of her.
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The goddess always tried to distance herself, always tried to stay coldly logical when she heard the list of the dead. It never worked in all of her immortal life.
"Tamara, Terry, Tyse, Ulyana, Uma, Vanessa, Valerie, Violet, Yadria, Yasha, Zahara, Zaida." Pheobe recited, the last of a long, long list. Sixty-one Hunters in all. Not far off from a third of the Hunt.
"Get them . . . Get them ready. And call Athena . . . we'll need her." Artemis closed her eyes, tears leaking from them despite her best efforts, "You will pay, Hades. Even if I have to cut you apart myself."
"You'll have to get in line, my lady." Pheobe growled before leaving.
The Hunter's graveyard shifted places as the focus of Western Civilization changed, just like Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter. It's location, even it's existence, was one of the best-kept secrets in the world. Artemis had used many favors in the past to make the gods swear oaths on the Styx never to talk about it, or write anything down.
It was worth it, though. This was Artemis' sacred ground, which no male could tread on. Thus, it was Athena who help Artemis flash all the Hunters, bodies of Hunters, and other materials they needed to hold a proper funeral.
Three or four Hunters dug a grave together. Though it would've been more efficient, they never dug graves before hand -an unspoken agreement that if you didn't prepare for the inevitable, you could pretend it would never happen. There were no prothesis or ekphora -parades like that were just wasted effort and didn't, in fact, help the soul journey to the Underworld.
One by one the bodies were lowered into the freshly dug graves, and above them some of their closest friends said short eulogies. They didn't have any time to prepare speeches -Artemis was a firm believer in that anything meaningful was said straight from the heart. You shouldn't need thirty minutes to describe your closest friend.
Bowls of chaoi were placed at the foot of each grave -along with a lock of hair from the eulogy-sayers,- then the entire Hunt muttered a short prayer to the one who died. Following that enagismata were put at the top of the grave, then they placed a drachma or denarius in the dead Hunter's pocket; After the first few Hunters died, they found it wasn't dignified to literally cough up a coin for Charon.
This was all done for a purpose, of course. The chaoi and enagismata strengthened the spirit and guided it to DOA Recording Studios, while the lock of hair gave the Hunter something to remember the living world with. The prayer helped the spirit when they were getting judged -and no Hunter failed to get into Elysium yet. The coin, of course, was to pay Charon to poll them across the Underworld.
When they got back to camp, afternoon had came and past a long time ago, and it was approaching midnight. But the Hunt's day wasn't over yet.
They held a feast -which the dead Hunters supposedly hosted in gratitude of the ritual. In reality, it was to distract the living Hunters from the loss, and Artemis did her best to do just that. But all the strange, wonderful, exotic, or homely dishes she summoned couldn't do more that take their minds off of the loss for a few minutes.
It wasn't very feast-y, all things considered.
They didn't know Hades had sentenced all enemy combatants to Punishment.
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The next morning, Athena rubbed her eyes wearily. In front of her were the lists of the dead, retrieved by Hermes the night before.
Most of the minor gods were out of commission for the next week at least, but they would live. Out of the nearly fifteen-thousand troops they had this morning, they had lost some three point five thousand.
Three point four five eight, her mind corrected idly. Twenty-three point oh five three percent.
They got off easily this time -next time, Athena would be betting they would have a much larger force to deal with.
She looked up to see the rest of her workplace. Her sons and daughters -eleven of them, now- were all working with her.
They each had layouts of Hades' fortress-palace, but so far none of them had a good idea of how to actually breach the fortress. Stones from a catapult would just bounce off the palace's Stygian Iron plating, and Greek Fire would hardly do squat.
The foundation was solid rock -the whole Underworld was, really- so there was no way to sapper; Siege ladders would be hell since most monsters didn't have the appendages necessary to scale them, and siege towers would be near impossible to construct and take down there. Any battering ram would just crack against the Stygian Iron gates, unable to do any damage whatsoever. In all of her immortal life, Athena had never met anyone who even mentioned the possibility of a secret entrance to his palace -it just didn't exist.
Hades was paranoid his whole life, and it was coming up in his favor now. His palace was designed to withstand a siege, and he only increased it's ability to do so over the centuries. His troops didn't need food, couldn't catch any disease, and could defend twenty-four/seven. His walls were bristling with weapons, and his walls were crowded with troops. His secret entrance was so well-hidden that few even knew it existed, and fewer still were alive to tell the tale.
It was the problem Athena and her children had been banging their heads against from the start of the entire campaign, and it looked more unsolvable with each passing day.
Their best chance, they all agreed, was to somehow force Hades to get directly involved, then use Zeus' bolt to tear a hole in the palace. It wouldn't be easy -a god's symbol of power was weakened in another's territory, but with both the Trident and Helm of Darkness, Hades could easily walk out the front door, skewer Zeus, and retreat before the rest of the Olympians could do anything at all.
Malcolm had suggested tearing up as much of the Underworld as possible to weaken Hades, but most of Hades' domain was already a wasteland. Still, it went on the shelf for future reference.
Athena sighed, ending her train of thought for a while, "Let's take a break and get some sleep. It won't do us any good if we start nodding off and lose our thoughts."
Her children nodded, leaving in a group back to their cabin's tent. It was luck and statistical probability that none of them died in the battle -most of the casualties came from the monsters and Sea Denizens, supplemented by the harpies that were shot out of the air.
The campers found their kin burning shrouds of the dead. Connor and Travis. Jake Mason. Lou Ellen. Clovis -though that wasn't really a surprise. Nyssa and Harley from Hephaestus. Drew, Lacy and Mitchell all died together. A good fifth of the Greeks in all.
In Connor and Travis' absence, Clarisse and Chris Rodriguez stepped up to be the leaders of Camp Half-Blood -maybe they'd live to the end of the war. Jason would much rather lead the Greeks on the battlefield then in name.
But Grover was the one everyone cared about. The Lord of the Wild who saved Camp Half-Blood, who defended upper Manhattan -and finally decided to grow his beard out. Now he was a laurel, just like he always dreamed of, and Coach Hedge took up the post of acting lord of the Wild -though he insisted the post be renamed "Lord of Nature".
As for the Romans, Bobby and Larry both died in the chaos among others. Kahale again had to save the eagle -the Twelfth Legion didn't have a very good track record of holding onto it. At least this time there weren't nearly so many casualties. It was a small comfort, but Reyna took what she could get. Frank had almost turned silent since Hazel's death and Arion's subsequent departure -the Praetor couldn't count on him for much.
Still, she couldn't help but wonder what happened to Perseus Jackson. Rumors ranged anywhere from him killing himself to becoming a part of the Hunt -the she didn't believe either of those. It was strange that Percy wasn't here, fighting on the front lines. A few Greeks were responsible for the "joining the Hunt" rumor, and said they saw him fight in New York right next to the Hunters, but that was too ridiculous to believe. Other Greeks said that they remember how Percy shut down after Annabeth's death, and thought he finally commited suicide, but that was ridiculous as well. The Percy she knew wouldn't abandon his friend like that.
Her personal theory was that Pluto had him killed or recruited him. That sort of deviousness seemed right up his alley -perhaps he promised the son of Neptune that Annabeth would be "elevated" to the Isle of the Blest if he did this.
Whatever happened to him, it was bad.
Regardless, the Romans had won.
And that meant a party.
A/N: I get all of my little knowledge on ancient funerals for the source of all knowledge -Wikipedia. So if I get something wrong, sorry.
Please review and give me feedback. I'll need it.