A/N: A bit late, but I'm still otherwise on schedule. Been a bit busy. Fun fact, this is now the longest chapter in the story by a sizable margin, as well as being the first chapter to break 7k words. Shoutout to MasterTrident, who helped me with some great ideas that are in this chapter. I hope you all enjoy!
The sea was peaceful and the water beneath the surface was still and silent. Schools of fish swam their own way, blissfully unaware of any turmoil or tension in the world above their universe. It was a carefree existence, free from the pain and anguish felt by those whose lives and destinies were dictated by fate itself.
A great impact broke the surface of the water, and the life that lived and existed in the sea hastily moved away as the instigator of the disturbance drifted slowly. Some of the more curious fish and wildlife came to examine the new, unusual specimen, but after a few moments, they had lost their curiosity and patience, swimming away to new horizons as the space around the object became devoid of life. Without anything hindrance, the new object fell, slowly, downward to the bottom of the sea, finding a small gap between rocks to become lodged in.
And so Percy Jackson lay between rocks at the bottom of the quiet, clear water of the Aegean Sea, his eyes closed, his hands without tension, and his mind fully unknowing of the apocalypse that was happening just above him.
Percy awoke suddenly, his first instinct to suck in air. Instead, he inhaled a mouthful of water, and he hastily blew it out in bubbles of air before his rational mind kicked in and he remembered that he could breathe underwater. Calming his beating heart down, Percy warily began to re-orient himself, his eyes blinking as he tried to find his bearings. It was one thing to know that he could be underwater with no problem – it was a different thing to find oneself underwater in the middle of nowhere.
He felt an object on his back, and one hand reached around to feel a hilt. Turning his neck as much as he could, he saw the scabbard of a blade with a sword inside, and he quickly remembered. Percy propelled himself upward, which destroyed the rocks that he had been lodged in, and broke the surface of the water, looking around to see the shining sea. He spun around before he found what he was looking for – it just simply wasn't what he expected.
The island of Lemnos was virtually gone. The rocky beach that he and Kassandra had landed upon – something that felt nearly a lifetime ago considering how sore Percy felt – was dried and hardened, forming into a dark rock that covered most of the island. Lemnos' many trees and foliage were long gone, and nothing except for the central volcano, which itself looked smaller and was differently shaped than before, was the same as it had been. Where there had once been a lush, vibrant island full of life, there was nothing more than a blackened rock covered in magmatic rock.
Percy breathed deeply as he took in his situation. He had initially thought that he had been in the water for a few hours after being flung from island by the volcanic eruption, but it was evident that he had been unconscious for much longer. The lava that had been pouring out onto Lemnos wouldn't have cooled that quickly. Neither would his numerous wounds of varying magnitudes have healed in a matter of hours – Percy could feel his entire body free of any injury that he had sustained over all the time he had been in Ancient Greece, though he felt considerable soreness. He had also grown a considerable amount of facial hair. All of it added up to a substantial amount of time spent underwater. What had he missed when he wasn't awake?
Percy kicked his legs a bit to propel himself upward and leaned backward, lying on the surface of the water as he stared at the clear blue sky above him. For a few minutes, he drifted on peace, letting the soothing water wash over him as he did his best to clear his mind of worries and fears. Eventually, he felt himself calm down, and feeling the weight of the sword on his back, the responsibilities he had to shoulder came flooding back.
On his back was the sword that King Perseus wanted. Now he had to get the sword back to Mycenae. With that singular goal, Percy began to swim. He felt the water empower his limbs, and diving under the surface of the sea, he propelled himself forward at incredible speeds.
Percy had lost enough – allies, comrades, and friends alike – during his time in Ancient Greece. He was finishing this now and fulfilling his primordial quest.
He had a time to get back to, friends to protect, and someone he loved whose free will was at stake.
Percy sunk to the bottom of the sea, sitting on the sea floor as he took a quick breather. Even physically enhanced by the water, he could not swim forever, and he could feel a certain tiredness creeping into his bones. He felt stronger than ever before, but without rest and food, he could not sustain himself forever.
Through the water, Percy could feel every current and stream in the sea, and he knew that over the course of many hours, he had only made it a quarter the way back to Mycenae through sea. It was a somewhat roundabout route, since he couldn't travel nearly as fast via the more direct land route. He also was wary of the danger on land – the Dorians that had sacked Athens and then Kymi were likely already turning their sights on Mycenae, the strongest power in southern Greece, which meant that their armies would make the land route perilous at best. He had already lost enough time – for all he knew, Dorian armies could be invading Mycenae already.
However, even as he sat in the depths of the sea, Percy could feel the fatigue in his muscles and limbs. He could only go so far and so fast, and the distance before him seemed to stretch into infinity the longer he thought about it. It was a depressing perception and one that darkened his mood.
"Drachma for your thoughts?" a voice sounded from behind him through the water. Percy, being the son of Poseidon that he was, could hear it perfectly, and he turned in curiosity to see who – or what – was speaking to him.
Standing, or rather floating, behind Percy was a nymph. If they weren't at the bottom of the Aegean Sea, Percy would have mistaken her as a beautiful human woman – her flowing long dark hair would've cascaded down her shoulders if it wasn't held up by the water. Instead, it made a fan-like shadow behind her. Her light brown eyes almost twinkled in the relative darkness, while her smile was warm. Her age was hard to tell – she looked as youthful as someone in her twenties, but she also had a regal stature befitting an older woman. She wore a flowing dress and had a leather pack slung around her back. There was something familiar about the nymph, but Percy couldn't quite place what.
"It is not important," Percy hesitantly said. While the nymph looked friendly, Percy was wary of meeting seemingly-friendly strangers at the bottom of the sea in Ancient Greece.
The nymph pouted a bit. "You do seem pretty sad, traveler. Is there something weighing on your mind?"
Internally, Percy debated the merits of continuing a conversation with the nymph. On one hand, he was cautious of any stranger, but on the other, he had little to lose at this point. Everyone that had helped him on his way was now gone, and he was a son of Poseidon in the sea – his power underwater made him one of the strongest fighters below the surface of the sea, so it was unlikely, at best, that a nymph could pose a real threat to him.
"Well," the demigod hesitantly started, unsure of how to phrase the turmoil in his soul, "it is complicated."
The nymph kept her soft smile as she sat down on a nearby rock. "We have time."
Percy sighed, and took a seat on a rock to sit across from the nymph. "I just feel… lost. I am from faraway, but I do not know how to return home. Everyone that has helped me has died while I am still here."
The nymph nodded. "So you feel unsure of yourself and what you need to do? That is a normal part of life."
"I guess," Percy replied, absentmindedly putting his elbows on his knees and his chin on his hands. "But I do not understand why I am still here. Others have died, and now I do not know how to carry on and do what I need to do."
"And what do you need to do?"
"I need to save the people I love and care for," Percy whispered.
The nymph stood up, her smile widening as she did so. "Well, then that is the solution to your problem!"
"Huh?" Percy intoned as the nymph swam over and put her hands on his shoulders.
"You need to save those you care for," the nymph said brightly, her tone rather chipper for the somber mood of the conversation they were having. "That means that you should stand tall and move forward to do what you need to do. Do not let yourself be held back by past failures and inadequacies – the people you care for depend on you, and you should not let them down by being mired in the quagmire of the past."
Percy felt his stomach flutter a bit at the words. It was like a simultaneous lightening and loading. He could feel pressure dissipate from the understanding that her words were wise and true, but he also felt the weight of his responsibilities increase. She was right – Thalia, Chiron, Zoë, Annabeth, Grover, Bianca, his mom, his dad, and more all depended on him. If he continued moping around at the bottom of the sea, he would be leaving them out to dry.
He was a hero; that meant he needed to stand tall even when the weight of the world was upon him.
So Percy stood up a different man. One with a straight back and shoulders, with the pressure of his failures gone. His commitments weighed on him, but those would only serve to push him forward, not down.
"You know," the nymph said, "I can see you thinking it over."
Percy turned his head slightly in confusion.
"Your eyes," she continued. "They truly are the windows to the soul. I can see you shouldering the responsibilities that you have, and that is good. It is a normal process as you grow older. You are young, and this is just another step as you become a man. Do you feel better?"
"Sort of," Percy replied. "Better and worse at the same time."
"Sounds right." The nymph slowly pulled away from Percy. "Nothing is ever clear cut and simple – it is a continual process, and you will have to work hard to make sure you do not fail those that rely on you. Forget about the things you do not need and learn how to endure the pain of things to come. In doing so, you will find what it means to be a hero befitting a true son of Poseidon."
"Thank you," Percy quietly said. The nymph nodded.
"We all have our own journeys, and you should be getting along yours."
Percy chuckled a little as he rubbed the back of his head. "Oh yeah, that was actually my other problem. The place I need to get to is pretty far away and I am a little tired. It will take me some time to get there."
The nymph nodded slowly, her brow furrowed in thought. She suddenly smiled and pulled a small bag out of her leather pack.
"This is just the thing!" the woman excitedly yelled as she held the bag up. He looked at the nymph in confusion.
"What is that?" Percy asked, unsure of what a bag could contain that would help him.
"A bag of winds from Aeolus himself," the nymph responded, seemingly pleased with herself. Percy immediately had a flashback to the thermos of winds that Hermes had given him two years earlier. It had saved him at the time and was overall a rather handy tool.
"How did you get it? I cannot imagine it was easy to come by."
"Ah," the nymph closed her eyes as she waved it off, "it was fairly simple. A dispute between Poseidon and Aeolus that I helped arbitrate. Aeolus was happy enough with the result that he gave me the bag of winds as a gift."
Percy gaped at the woman. "You solved an argument between the god of the oceans and the god of the winds?"
She handwaved it away with a chuckle. "It was not that dramatic, in all honesty." Her smile faded a bit. "I will, however, require something in return."
Percy's good humor faded as well. "What do you mean? What kind of object?"
The nymph nonchalantly shrugged her shoulders. "Oh, anything I think is interesting would do. Your sword, for instance." She nodded toward the weapon strapped to Percy's back.
"This?" Percy said as he touched the blade. "Oh, I cannot do that. This is something I need to bring to someone."
"Well, it was just an example."
Percy thought about it for a moment before he remembered what he had in his pocket. He slowly reached into his pants pocket and withdrew a small damaged brooch. The hairpiece was cracked and broken, its seashell-like exterior giving way to its jagged metal interior. It was a far cry from its more familiar pen form courtesy of the time that Percy found himself in.
"This was my sword," Percy solemnly said, holding out the remains of Riptide.
The nymph stared at the brooch. "Does it have a name?"
"Anaklusmos."
She nodded. "A good name for a sword of the son of Poseidon." She held out the bag of winds. "It is a worthy trade."
Percy raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
The nymph wryly smiled. "Even in its current state, I can feel the power of the sword. It is damaged, but I feel like it has the potential to do more. That feeling alone is enough to make me interested." She shook the bag of winds in her outstretched arm.
With pursed lips, Percy handed over Riptide and took the bag of winds in exchange. The nymph examined the brooch in her hands for a few moments before looking back at Percy.
"I believe you would just need to open the bag," she said, eyeing the bag of winds. "It will take you wherever you need to go."
"Alright," he replied, looking at the bag which was tied off with a small string. "Thank you for everything you have done."
She smiled in return. "It was my pleasure, ah… what was your name?"
"Perseus."
"Ah… like the King?" the nymph asked.
"Yes," Percy replied. It seemed to be the most common comparison made regarding his name in Ancient Greece. "And yours?"
"Oh! I forgot. I am Pleione," the nymph introduced herself. "I was just on my way west to visit my daughters when I bumped into you."
"Daughters?" Percy asked. It was the first time he had seen a nature spirit have children.
"Oh yes," Pleione explained. "I have many daughters. They manage a garden in the far west. You may have heard of them. They guard quite beautiful golden apples."
Percy scrunched his brow. Daughters. Garden. Golden apples. He thought back to every myth he had learned from Chiron during his stint as Mr. Brunner. He thought back to every myth Annabeth had told him like a story. He thought back to his own life experiences.
"Wait," he slowly said, "are your daughters the Hesperides?"
"Of course! I am quite proud of them, you know, as their mother. They have gone so far."
Percy could barely believe it. The nymph he was staring at – Pleione – was familiar because he had already met her daughters, and more specifically, he had gotten to know one quite well. Now that he knew what he was looking for, the physical resemblance was clear as day. Her smile was the same as Zoë Nightshade's, though the latter didn't smile nearly as often as her mother. Her hair was the same as well – long and dark, flowing down the back. Pleione shared many of the royal features that were seen on her daughter, but her overall countenance was much lighter. It seemed like Zoë didn't get it all just from Atlas. In that moment, he also realized that Zoë was alive in this world.
"Is something wrong, Perseus?" Pleione said, snapping Percy out of his stupor.
"No, no," he quickly said. "It is just that you reminded me of someone else I know. She lives… far away from here."
Pleione nodded. "I expect she is beautiful and witty too," she remarked with light laughter. "At any rate," she continued, her laughter dying down, "you should get going. You seem to be in a hurry, and I do not want to take up anymore of your time."
"Ah, thank you," Percy replied, looking back down at his bag of winds. "I will be off then. And again, thank you for everything."
"It was no problem. Stay safe on your travels, Perseus."
Percy nodded, and with a powerful kick, launched himself to the surface of the sea. He savored the feeling of the cool water parting on his face as he shot upward, and he launched out of the water into the air for a few seconds before coming back down with a splash. Percy couldn't help but smile as he floated on the surface of the sea – it was like the rare time he went to a water park as a kid.
"Alright, let's try this out," he whispered to himself in English, one hand ready to pull the string that kept the bag tied and closed. He was a little unsure of untying the bag too hastily given the powerful winds inside of it and the power of the winds from the last time he used it. He needed to go faster and further than he ever went that time. Steeling himself for the worst, Percy surrounded himself with water just in case, and he opened the bag of winds slightly.
The ensuing roar nearly popped his eardrums. It was like a jet engine in his hands, threatening to pull his arms off of his body. He shot forward like speeding train. Percy could faintly hear the sound of a boom behind him as he blasted water away from his path with the sheer speed he was going at, but already, his head was pounding, and he gave in to the physical pressure he felt as his vision darkened.
Underwater, Pleione mused on the brooch she had received from Perseus in return for the bag of winds. She also heard the distinctive sound of the bag of winds being opened, and even where she stood at the seafloor, the water still rippled to bump her slightly.
She knew all about the son of Poseidon's namesake; it was odd, in her opinion, for one of Poseidon's scions to be named after a son of Zeus, but stranger things had happened in her extended family. Looking back to the brooch, she mused at its form. Perhaps it would become the sword it once was again with some repair. She knew people that could reforge the blade, and with that thought in mind she began to swim west, heading toward the garden of the Hesperides where her daughters resided.
In her hand, the brooch that was Anaklusmos – Riptide in its later life – pulsed slightly. It was an inanimate object, but like everything that had been touched by the powers of the Greek gods, there was an inherent idea inside of it. On the most fundamental level, it instinctively knew what it was supposed to be. In the years, centuries, and millennia ahead, it would be reforged to become a powerful, full blade once more, and it would fight in countless wars, slay innumerable enemies, and it be the weapon of choice of a legion's worth of heroes. And one day, it would go further than any sword would in the history of the world.
Little did Pleione know that the greatest hero to wield it would be both its first and last owner.
Percy felt something lightly poke into him, and as he blearily woke up and rolled over, he registered the feeling of sand in his face and the sight of the sun in the blue sky. He refocused his vision and saw two men hovering over him. Both were dressed in armor and had spears. One of them had their spear upside down, which was probably what had poked into him as he was unconscious.
"Who are you," the other guard whose spear was not upside down gruffly asked.
"Where am I?" Percy hoarsely asked. In his hand, he still clutched the bag of winds, which was miraculously squeezed shut as he fell unconscious.
"Mycenae," the other guard whose spear was upside down replied. His voice was rather lighter and nicer. "We found you on the beach during our patrol."
Percy coughed out some sand and tapped the sword slung on his back. "I was sent on a quest by King Perseus and I have completed it. I need an audience with him immediately. Tell him Perseus has arrived."
The two guards looked at each other before looking back at Percy. It wasn't everyday someone with a sword strapped to their back washed up ashore and asked for an audience with the king.
"Oh?" King Perseus intoned as a courier quickly whispered in his ear. "You may as well send him in." The courier nodded and ran back outside via a side entrance. A few moments passed as the various people in the royal throne room, ranging from retainers to courtesans to nobles and the other ambitious people of Mycenae, fell silent in anticipation for whatever now held the king's attention.
The two stone doors of the main entrance to the throne room shifted, jolting the four guards whose job it was to open them. They stood back as the doors were pushed open from the outside, and soon enough, it was evident that only one person was pushing them. Sunlight bathed the man, making it hard for the throne room's occupants to make out who it was, but after the doors had been half opened, the man stopped and strode through the opening. His hair was a mess and his clothes were dirty and damaged, but he walked with a confident swagger that he had lacked on his first arrival to the center of Mycenaean power.
"King Perseus," Percy boomed, his voice reverberating off the ornate vaults of the throne room. "I have returned with what you requested." In one swift motion, he took the sword from his back and presented it in both hands, kneeling before the throne of King Perseus.
There was a fateful silence as the two Perseuses stared at each other. Finally, King Perseus waved it away.
"That trinket? I could hardly care about it now," the man lazily said, leaning back on his throne.
Percy felt his stomach plummet. "What do you mean?" he quietly asked of the Mycenaean king. He could feel his heartrate rising. "This is what you called for me to take in my quest, and this is what I have taken."
To find where one must go, one must seek the king,
To find what one must do, the future to one must cling.
The lines of the prophecy that Chronos had given Percy so long ago echoed in his mind. He had followed what it called for, and this is where it had brought him.
"Did you really think I set you on a quest that made you go across the land for a sword," King Perseus said with an exasperated tone. "Nobody cares about a single sword, unless it can multiply itself for my army."
"Then why did you put me on the quest. Your people – Alcaeus and Kassandra, two people that were loyal to you to the end – died for it. Why did you send them for something that did not even matter?"
King Perseus shook his head. "Who cares about them? They were nothing more than ants to serve my will. No, what I really wanted was the danger that you would face on your quest. I do not like you. I do not want to see you. You are a pestilence upon my lands, and a thorn in my side. The sooner you are gone, be it my hand, Hephaestus' hand, or the world's troubles, the better."
Percy trembled in anger at the words that King Perseus uttered. He strapped the sword that he had painstakingly gotten with many sacrifices on his back. "How dare you," Percy whispered, his voice low and steady. "How dare you toss aside people who serve you wholeheartedly. You are their leader – they deserve more than you. You are a disgrace to the gods."
"What would you know of disgrace!" King Perseus yelled, standing up for the first time. From his pedestal, he stared down into the fiery eyes of Percy with fire of his own. "What do you know of the failure of the gods!"
The king gestured all around him. "Do you know that there are thousands of Dorians, armed to the teeth, waiting for the slightest flaw in my city's defenses to plunder and loot Mycenae? Did you know how many of my people have already been lost to the barbarians? Where were you when that happened. You should have warned us!"
Percy didn't back down in the slightest. "You gave me a quest, and I completed it to the best of my abilities. I watched cities be burned by the Dorians. I held people who died by them. Do not lecture me on where I was – I was fighting the Dorians. You had me cast aside frivolously because you wanted to make a point about the gods. Perhaps you should look in the mirror, because I do not see anything in you that makes you better than them."
King Perseus snorted. "Then you know nothing of them. Were it not for Poseidon, Andromeda would still be alive! It was all your father's fault that she is dead, and I will never, ever forgive that."
Percy froze. His father had killed the Andromeda of Greek myth? He couldn't imagine the kind man who liked to wear Hawaiian shirts and flip flops ending a woman's life.
"I do not believe you," Percy replied, unsure of his answer.
"I do not need you to," King Perseus spat. He turned to face his throne before whipping around again. "Get out of my city."
Percy stood there, locked in another staring match with the King of Mycenae. "I need a boat."
King Perseus waved dismissively. "Done. Now get out of my sight and never come back."
With a heavy heart, Percy strode out of the throne room, leaving behind his quest with King Perseus and carrying new, uncomfortable questions.
Percy maneuvered the boat expertly on the blue sea. He had been given a decent craft by the Mycenaean Navy, and now he was back on the Aegean Sea. At first, he had been a bit lost on what to do – he had only asked for the boat so he could get wherever he wanted to go quicker. He hadn't quite thought ahead to where he would go with the boat.
Then he remembered the words of the prophecy that he had been given. He had followed it to the best of his ability, and this is where it led him. There was only one thing left to do – find Chronos to find answers. The primordial of time was the only one that could help Percy return to the time he needed to go to, so that was where he needed to go.
Percy remembered the way back to Serifos. Now that Scylla and Charybdis were gone, the sea was calm and it was smooth sailing back to the island that Percy started his journey on. He passed many of the smaller islands and rock formations that he remembered Alexis steering his own craft past when Percy was rescued by the fishermen. Between what Percy remembered of the map that Alexis had initially given him when he left the small island and Percy's own innate navigational ability, finding the way back to Serifos was not hard at all.
The demigod smiled as the island of Serifos came into sight. His smile dropped when he noticed the smoke rising from the island. Willing the water to push him along as fast it could, Percy sped toward the island, fearing the worst.
As he turned around the perimeter of the island to find the dock that he left from, Percy's stomach plummeted. Fires raged throughout the small town on the island of Serifos. As he came within docking distance with the island, he could see bodies scattered throughout the stone paths of the town, and Percy's soul raged in anger at the sights he saw. He noticed a larger ship of a cruder design than any vessel made on Serifos was also docked, and he immediately came to a terrible conclusion.
"Pirates," Percy spat under his breath. He jumped off of his boat and sped down the bloodstained path. The fact that their ship was still here meant the pirates themselves were also still on the island.
He turned the first corner on the path and saw two men standing on the road. Both had swords on their belts and each carried some loot taken – jewelry and metals among other goods. With a roar, Percy brandished the sword on his back and swung, slicing down the chest of the closest pirate. The man fell to the ground with a grunt. His companion jumped backward in shock and dropped his ill-gotten gains. Pulling out his own sword, the man strode forward and locked blades with Percy. Normally, given the man's relative size advantage over Percy – he stood half a head taller and looked much bulkier – the man should have won the trade, but Percy was bolstered by his demigod powers and his own rage, and he overpowered the older man before impaling him through the chest.
Percy Jackson would show no mercy to the scum that would kill innocents and pillage lives. Not after everything he had seen. He would normally give people a chance to surrender, but these were people who had made their choice to destroy others long ago and would feel little remorse for the suffering they caused. They would not hesitate to kill him along with everyone else on the island, and Percy was not about to roll over and let them harm the people who had shown him kindness when he needed it.
"Help!" a scream came from inside a nearby house before it was cut off. Sparing no thought, Percy crashed through the wall of the house, not even bothering to use the door. Inside the abode, three pirates stared at the demigod. One of them was beside the door, ready to attack whoever entered. The other two hovered over a bloodstained woman, her throat freshly slit. Her clothes were torn, and her skin was red from attack.
Percy saw red in his vision.
The pirate nearest to the door rushed at Percy, being the quickest to recover from the shock of someone crashing through the wall. He was the first to die. Percy slashed once with all of his strength and cut the man cleanly into two, his torso from the waist up falling backward disconnected from his legs.
One of the pirates yelled in horror at the sight of his comrade being cut in half, while the other pulled out his sword. Metal clanged on metal as he locked blades with Percy, but to the demigod's surprise, this pirate twisted his blade and forced Percy to drop his own. The pirate cruelly smiled at the surprise disarming, but Percy simply closed the distance and threw a heavy punch into the man's chest. He felt bones crack under his fist, but he gave the pirate no reprieve, throwing punch after punch into the man's chest. Forcing the pirate against the door of the house, he continued his assault, not caring that the man's ribcage had long turned into dust and his torso into a mess of flesh. He ignored the blood seeping out of every facial orifice of the pirate. After a final brutal fist, Percy let the long-dead man slump to the floor and turned his sights to the last remaining pirate, who remained beside the dead woman.
Percy took note of the man's loose pants, the sweat in his hair, and the abused state of the dead woman.
"Mercy, mercy please," the last pirate pleaded, dropping to his knees. Percy ignored him as he reached for his fallen sword. "I beg you, please!" Calmly striding over to the man, Percy stood over him like an executioner.
"Mercy," Percy whispered. "What mercy did you show her?" he asked of the pirate, pointing at the dead woman.
The pirate said nothing, his breath catching as he quietly sobbed.
"But I will show you some mercy. A quick death is mercy enough." Before the pirate could respond, Percy thrust his sword forward, piercing the man's heart. He kept the sword in the man as the pirate spluttered for a few moments and withdrew it once the man went limp. Letting the pirate fall to the floor, Percy grabbed a nearby blanket from a bed and threw it over the dead woman. Wiping his sword on one of the dead pirates' shirt, he exited the house via the entrance he created.
"Is there anyone else?" Percy yelled into the air. Silence filled the air. Percy didn't know where to go from here, so he wandered down the streets. Every now and then, there would be a pirate that would try and attack him, but Percy had no issues dispatching them all.
There was a trail of bodies on the ground, both civilian and pirate, that grew larger on the path in a certain direction. Percy followed the path to come to a town square of sorts. There was a makeshift barricade there and piles of bodies. Many of the pirates had died in the square, but there were also many deaths for the people of Serifos.
"Wh-who goes there?" a voice coughed out behind one of the barricades. Percy quickly ran over to check who was still alive. He turned the corner to see Alexis sitting against the barricade, one hand over his bleeding abdomen and his other arm cut off. A trail of blood leaked out of his mouth.
"Alexis!" Percy yelled, kneeling down. He cradled the dying man as he searched for a bandage of some sort, but Alexis put a hand on Percy's shoulder to stop him.
"No point," the older man grunted, the pain of his wound getting to him. "Cannot stop it anymore."
"I am sorry," Percy said despondently. "I could not come back in time to save you all."
"S- save?" Alexis spluttered. "No, that is not your job. You are human like the rest of us. Do not put unrealistic expectations on yourself. Even a hero can fail. You have done the best you could." With that, Alexis leaned against Percy's shoulder and sighed, spittle and flecks of blood coming out as he did so.
"Remember us," Alexis suddenly said, looking at Percy. "Remember us, Perseus, when you do great things in the future. I know you will go far – do not let this keep you back." The man closed his eyes. "I am glad I knew you, Perseus."
With that, the man fell silent and slumped over in Percy's arms.
Percy stared at his dead friend, unable to form a thought. All he knew was that he was in emotional pain.
"AH!" Percy screamed into the sky. He gave into the most primordial response to pain – what other response was there?
"I know the feeling of loss, Percy," a calm, wise voice came from behind him. "And I know that you have experienced it all too often in recent times."
Percy whipped around to see Chronos standing behind him. His robes were clean and free of the blood and grime that coated every other surface of Serifos and its people. Putting Alexis' body gently on the ground, Percy stood up and faced the primordial.
"Why?" Percy whispered, his voice hoarse.
"Because it was necessary," Chronos solemnly said. "Loss is inevitable – even us immortals have to experience it. Loss gives perspective and understanding."
"I- I don't want to feel it anymore," Percy angrily said. "I hate this feeling!"
"The feeling of powerlessness," Chronos nodded. "An inescapable feeling. It's horrible to feel that you could've done something more. If it helps you any, take heart in knowing that everyone who died had already died. The only difference is the human element – now you know about it on a personal level. In the grand scheme of things, their losses will not even register."
Percy stared at the protogenoi as he clenched his fists. "Screw the 'grand scheme of things'. I knew about them, and that's all that matters to me. I knew them, I lost them, and now I mourn them."
Chronos smiled. "And that, my friend, is the correct answer." He reached out into thin air and materialized a staff in his hand. It was a twisted piece of wood, seemingly natural yet ornamental at the same time. "It's heartening to know that these losses have only brought out the best of you instead of destroying you."
"What is that?" Percy asked, his voice a low growl still.
"My staff," Chronos proclaimed. "A source of my power. Give me the sword." Percy handed his sword – gotten from the vaults of Hephaestus' forge – to the primordial, and the powerful being held both tools out. A glowing light emitted from each object, forcing Percy to look away, and Chronos pressed the two together. When the white light finally faded and Percy could look back, the staff was gone and only the sword remained.
It was, however, not exactly the same sword that Percy had handed over. Its hilt was entwined with curved wood, and an inscription in a language to ancient for even Percy to read was along the blade.
"Your final gift," Chronos whispered, before he fell to one knee as he extended the sword out. "A significant amount of power has been poured into it – use it well."
Percy accepted the sword. "I… I will cherish it."
"No!" Chronos yelled suddenly, shocking Percy. "No, do not cherish it. It is not an ornament. It is a tool to enact destiny, to complete Fate. There is no point in treating it as a prized object. Use it when you must and discard it when you have to. It should not be held above lives – it should be used to save them.
Percy nodded. The moment his hand had closed around the sword's grip, he knew what he had to do and how to use it. It was an understanding beyond any Percy had known before. Knowledge from the weapon flooded into Percy's mind, and when he blinked again, Chronos was gone. Percy was alone, surrounded by death and the fire of a burning village.
Percy closed his own eyes. He thought back to everything that had happened during his time in Ancient Greece.
Meeting Alexis. Arriving at Serifos. Leaving. Fighting Scylla and Charybdis. Arriving in Mycenae. Meeting King Perseus, Alcaeus and Kassandra. Their travels. Athens. Galene. Theseus. Kymi. The boat captain. Alcaeus' death. Lemnos. The forge. Losing Riptide. Kassandra's death. Meeting Pleione. His argument with King Perseus. Coming back to Serifos. Killing pirates. Seeing Alexis one last time.
A circular path. He was now where he started.
Percy recited the prophecy given to him by Chronos in his mind.
Without friend and without foe, the hero is far from home.
He initially had no one, and he was far from his time.
For quite some time, this new land the hero must roam.
He had many journeys and travels.
To find where one must go, one must seek the king,
He had to find the Mycenean King Perseus to receive a quest.
To find what one must do, the future to one must cling.
He never lost sight of his goal – to return to his time and loved ones.
A great sacrifice must be made, as all worthy things require,
Many had been lost for him to get where he was now.
For to gain the needed power, one must go through fire.
Cities had been burned. Chronos had given him his new weapon in a burning village.
Your true enemy still waits, stirring as you go,
His enemy was in the future and not yet awake.
But not now – later, for time is not your woe.
And now was 'later'. And Percy knew what to do with time.
With one last great yell, Percy stabbed the sword into the ground. A column of white light emitted from the crack in the Earth, running through the length of the glowing sword and into the sky. Lighting split the sky. Thunder boomed. The waves roared.
In the middle of a burning island, in the center of the fire, Percy Jackson stood tall and strong, defiantly looking upward into the future – or rather, his present. And as soon as it started, it ended. The lightning stopped. The thunder echoed no more. The waves calmed.
And Percy Jackson was gone.