Pain.
That was all he could feel.
That was what had empowered him.
And yet… he was comforted by it.
The man walked in complete silence.He was aware that he was alone on his journey. And yet he felt nothing. Nothing but sadness, like someone had sliced him open and took all the happiness out of him, all his 19 years of happiness and joy.
And yet.
In a way,
Someone had.
Someone who he trusted more than ever. Someone who had stuck by him in every step of the way. Someone who he'd trusted with his only fault, his only weakness, his only doubt. Someone who he had fallen into the depths of the pit for. Who he had loved and cared for, and planned on marrying. But no. All the joy and mirth and pureness in his soul had left him, and created a dark, empty, void in the once joyful man. It had all been taken away, by Her.
He dared not even think her name. That name, which once always sparked glee into the man, now carried a dark weight behind it, a evil which he not dared enchant, but still filled him with pain and sorrow.
And as the man thought all this, he took one last look at the place he called home, the camp that had once held a dear place to his heart, he now resented, the sight of it only making him angrier. His blood boiled, as all that pain and sorrow and sadness melted and reformed into something much darker and sinister.
Hatred.
Hatred for those that abandoned him. For those he felt deserved all the punishments in the deepest, most malicious and cruel depths of the primordial of the pit himself.The people that had utterly destroyed everything he once held dear.
The gods. He resented them. He cursed them. He did everything he could, and yet he still felt coldness and hostility towards them. That of which consumed the man, and put him in this shell of his former self. No longer was this the once happy and bouncing young lad that with just his presence lightened the atmosphere of the room by a tenfold. No more was that man that, with just a sentence of fiery passion rallied troops to his command. No, here was a man who had endured far too much malice towards those he felt guilty. Guilty of the worst punishments to the human race. The gods. No, this was a man that thought of nothing of himself, a humble yet resentful individual, who, without even realizing it, was more powerful than most of the people he held accountable.
So now as the man looked upon the wretched fields and cabins, he felt a deep gash in his heart, one that could not be ever repaired but of the one thing the man vowed not to let consume him any longe. A feeling he now held hostage in his heart, never too be seen again.
Love.
The man's name was Percy Jackson, and he turned and walked on to the journey that awaited him, a journey of friendship and betrayal, but one that would be, in the end, the reason he lived.
And so, as the man walked off into the woods, his head hanging low and his heart full of pain, he promised on all 5 rivers of the underworld one thing.
He would never fight for the gods ever again.