Dance of Death
*Third Person Point of View*
Neither Annabeth and her son, nor any of the campers, had much of a reprieve after the deaths of the two most recent guardians, Nereus and Kallius, because it seemed that the moment the life left both of their eyes, three more enemies appeared.
The remaining three guardians, aside from the peculiar absence of their leader, Perseus, brought panic to the campers, though also relief as they witnessed their parents, the gods, step up to face their once-companions. Those dead from the carnage rose swiftly in their numbers, littering the floor in brutal slaughter. It was all Annabeth could do as a mother to block her son's view of the deceased and dying; her hand pressing his head into her chest as she caressed his grimy hair. She hadn't seen so many dead since the Titan War.
But she couldn't afford to look back. The siege kept coming and there wasn't a second where the remaining guardians weren't cutting down the campers in cold blood. The gods were fighting their way through, knocking the enemies down only for them to just get back up and keep attacking, keep killing. The first two may have seemed easy enough, but the rest apparently hadn't gotten the memo. They weren't going to fall any time soon, it seemed.
They fought - and fought hard, pushing back against their charges, whose reinforced willpower to finally put an end to their most-trusted companions for the sake of their children helped the campers to stand and rush back into battle as well.
'If only they hadn't grown complacent in their training,' Annabeth thought as she ran to get her son to safety. The security of having the guardians around to fight off any threat posed to them led most to laze about the camp, unconcerned with things like honing their swordsmanship skills. 'How could we have been so stupid?'
Now, with the guardians on the opposing side, the campers could not defend themselves against the onslaught of monsters pouring in through the broken border. Discord reigned.
The only relief came from watching the gods taking up arms for them. Annabeth ducked under an arrow, fired from the roof of the Apollo cabin. A few archers perched there and in other high placed around camp. Arrow after arrow whizzed through the air, turning the tide in their favour. The arrows were distractions, of course; aside from taking down the monsters, they misled the three remaining guardians.
However, it wasn't going to be that easy. These guardians, in direct conflict with their previous, dead, compatriots, were organized and seemed to know exactly where to move to avoid the incoming attacks. Indeed, they proved just how worthy they were in their positions of protecting the gods and their interests. They easily avoided the catapult fire, leading their opponents into traps with jabs and feints.
The air was charged with fear, hanging heavy over the campers' heads as the guardians slowly advanced, pushing back their Olympian enemies.
Hermes' guardian, Galene, flicked her wrist to the side with a malicious smirk tugging at her lips. Her dagger glinted with the blood already spilled on its blade, and with a swift swing of her arm, it was buried to the hilt in a camper's chest. She skipped over, pulled it free, and deflected an arrow without missing a beat, all the while keeping the sick grin on her face. There was blood in her teeth, and Hermes shivered.
He shuddered at the power of his inner turmoil, rolling like a monsoon in his chest. He felt himself struggling in an emotional tug of war, but there was no hesitation as she approached a second camper. He couldn't let her kill anyone else, because even if it was all a charade to gain their trust, the Galene that he knew and loved would not want to kill anyone. This fraud would not slander his memories of her - he wouldn't allow it.
He switched the grip of his own dagger in his hand and rushed forward. Suddenly appearing in front of her, no one saw his dagger move, but it was suddenly in her chest. She choked, gasped, and fell, blood already coating her lips as she continued to gag, struggling to breathe. He had tears in his eyes as he caught her, lowering her to the ground.
"H...mes…" A wave of darkness washed through the back of her eyes. It moved from top to bottom, then exited her mouth in the form of a black cloud, which dissipated soon after meeting sunlight.
"...What?" the god of speed breathed. His wide eyes searched hers, even as the light faded from them. She was just smiling up at him, tears and blood dripping down her face.
"Thank you…"
As she took her final breath, it all became clear. The battlefield around him almost materialized back into existence around him as he let go of her body.
"They really were brainwashed…" He looked up just in time to block an attack from a pouncing hellhound. He swung it aside with just a fist as the weight of the sky was lifted off his shoulders. Atlas had his sympathies. A knot tighter than any mess ever before formed a stone within his heart as he left her cold form in the bloody grass.
Subconsciously, he registered that his family was fighting the remaining two guardians. It was easy for him; she hadn't been expecting him to fight back; she'd been counting on his hesitation when there was none. The others wouldn't make that same mistake. He watched them in mourning, because even if he now knew for certain that they weren't in control of their own actions, he could see no other way to keep them from killing his and the other gods' children. There was nothing behind their eyes - he could see that now. They were nothing but the mindless slaves their puppet master had made them into.
The only way for this fight to end, for them to save their children, was for the guardians to die, and the gods would have to do it.
Artemis was a mess of flashing lights and tangled feet. She was trying to get away, to teleport with enough distance between them to use her bow, but her efforts were for naught. She wouldn't beat him in hand-to-hand combat and he knew it, so he wouldn't let her escape. It was her knives against his sword, and he was clearly at an advantage with the reach his weapon gave him.
They'd done this dance hundreds of times before, and yet this time, it felt real. It was real, because this time, Perseus really was trying to kill her.
His left hand clutched hers like they were in a waltz, never letting her move more than a few feet as he teleported with her throughout the dense forest. The insane grin didn't leave his face, even as hers slipped into one of frustration concentration; it was like he wasn't even trying, but then again, he probably wasn't. In all her millennia of godhood, she'd never seen one as skilled with a sword as Perseus, and he'd only gotten better during his training with the Great One.
"Your feeble plans are useless. You already know that you cannot win, so why keep this up? The others are fighting as we do," he told her. "You are not at that pathetic camp to protect its weaklings."
She only snarled in response. Words would not form on her tongue because deep down, she knew that he was right. How could she fight an immortal being older than the universe itself? How could she bring herself to challenge the person she'd festered such strong feelings for? She couldn't kill him anyway; that would be playing right into the Great One's hands, but how could she get away to warn the other gods? How would they contain the guardians?
They exchanged a few more blows. Perseus' movements were flawless, reminding Artemis of how they used to spar together to train, but he was also ruthless. He'd never strike with such cheap blows against her - always honourable. He'd once said that to fight without honour was to fall to the level of those he hated, and now, their enemy was forcing him to do just that. He flung her own hair back around her, kicked dirt up into her face, physically pulled her closer by the hand - every trick she'd ever heard of to get her off balance.
Suddenly, he smirked. "I have just felt Galene's spirit fade to nothingness...by Hermes' own hand, no less. I didn't believe that he could bring himself to do it."
Artemis' face paled and she growled lowly before attacking him with new vigor, though she could not bring herself to go for killing blows. Perseus laughed at her weakness. It was obvious that he was just toying with her, and they both knew it. As the leader of the guardians, he was the most powerful and skilled of them, and he had the advantage, as she was emotionally distracted and reserved from the fight, whereas he had no qualms and no distractions. Artemis' movements switched to autopilot as she became lost in her own head, wondering how it could have come to this, and if things would ever be the same.
She threw her head to the side, cursing herself for ever summoning him in the first place. "Why didn't we just believe Percy when we had the chance to save him? I will be the one responsible for the downfall of the gods..."
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