So Maybe I'm Showing Off...
A strange, glowing portal opened directly next to the general, appearing in the air like the splash of a pebble in the water, but played in reverse. It interrupted the hooded man as he was speaking, but it wasn't the portal that caused him to pause, it was the figure that burst forth from it.
A large creature jumped out, landing on light paws. It was something the likes of which none of the campers, gods, or spirits had seen before. With the shining body of a wolf, the charcoal wings of a raven, and the argent horn of a unicorn, the creature stood tall and proud, chest pressed forward, and wings flared to the sides. He stood, the size of a dire wolf next to the general, his perked ears level with the man's shoulders.
Suddenly, to the surprise of all but the general, all the Pegasi galloped or soared into the clearing and bowed to the new creature. No one made a noise; even the wildlife from the forest had fallen silent – out of respect or fear, the audience could only guess. It was if they were all waiting for something to happen.
As the hybrid creature had landed, he stopped at the general's side, the latter who patted his neck in greeting, stroking his fur gently. A smile spread across his face, breaking the calm façade that he'd worn since arriving. Finally, he turned back to the crowd, seeing that Athena and all her children had been studying him and his new companion.
"I apologize for the interruption. Allow me to introduce myself. I am-"
Once again, he was unable to finish as Athena said, "You are the heir to the universe, isn't that correct? Wielder of the Voidfyre and companion to the Shadow Lord?"
The general's smile faded for half a second before returning, though this smile seemed condescending rather than one borne of content. "Yes, you would be correct in that assumption, Lady Athena," he said, "As I was saying, however, my name is Abaddon, general of the Eternal army, and this is my companion for the past five thousand years, Haetros. He is, as you call him, the Shadow Lord."
Gasps filled the clearing, giving life to the invisible wave of disbelief that washed over them. Of course, they'd all heard the legend of the Shadow Lord. It was one of the few that they considered myths, but the story was still told around the campfires on nights of jest. It was, after all, just a legend.
Or so they thought, until this moment, when the Shadow Lord himself threw his head back in a loud howl, then punctuated his cry with a low growl.
Immediately upon realizing whom they were looking at, the crowd slowly sank to their knees, each camper bowing their heads, each spirit bent low, and even the gods sunk to the ground, lower than their lord, General Abaddon. As heir to the universe, he had power that Zeus himself could only ever dream of, rivalling the creators themselves.
Abaddon waved for them to stand almost as soon as the first camper knelt, however, and they all sunk down, though only for a second before rising again, with slight hesitation in their movements.
He was silent for a few seconds, as if having a mental debate, wherein he broke his peace by asking, "My Lord Zeus, if I may ask, why are you and the other gods here at the demigod camp? Why are you not on Olympus? I was led to believe that the gods rarely had contact with their children."
Zeus almost seemed to flinch at the mention of his title, but didn't address it, instead opting to answer the question asked of him. "For the past five years, we – the Olympians and I – have visited the demigod camp often to spend time with our children. You see, a few years ago, we had a terrible misunderstanding, which could have easily been fixed if only we'd given our children the time and attention they deserve.
Abaddon was intrigued, though it was hard to tell under his mask. His mouth twitched, the only thing showing his interest. "What happened?" he asked.
"A young hero by the name of Perseus Jackson was wronged in the worst of ways. He was abandoned by his friends and his father, and yet, when he was given the chance to betray us, he did not. Instead, he was slain in a battle against three of our enemies, defeating them, but in the process, being mortally wounded. We could not save him, but we let him be an example for all heroes that come after," Zeus explained.
"We will not allow anyone else to die the same way," Annabeth said with a hint of sorrow in her voice.
"The price of our enlightenment shouldn't have been that boy's life. He did not deserve to die in that way. We should have learned from our mistakes before. Been wiser," Athena said. Her eyes were glistening with tears as she spoke, but her stormy grey orbs also held frustration. Frustration towards her tears, and towards the blindness she had displayed during the unfortunate events five years prior.
Artemis spoke next, his voice soft, but determined to be heard. "He was the only man I ever approved of," she said - almost wistfully. "He never boasted, though he had every right to speak about his many achievements. And even when we'd left him beaten and broken, he did not betray us to our enemies, instead, fighting until his dying breath to defend us. We did not deserve a hero like him, but…I just wish I could have spoken to him before it all happened. I had a lot to say…" her voice trailed off as a light blush dusted her cheeks. She hadn't meant to say the last bit aloud.
As Abaddon turned to look at her, his heart turned over in his chest, butterflies coming to life within. He felt a sudden swarm of bees begin to buzz in his belly, almost causing him to shiver, but he refrained. Confusion flooded his brain. What was happening? He had no idea what was going on with him, but he couldn't help but let his gaze linger on the moon goddess for a few seconds longer than was appropriate. Her luscious auburn hair was as curled as it had always been, and her silver eyes sparkled less than he remembered, and yet, she grew more beautiful the longer he stared.
Then their words sank in, and Abaddon almost startled from shock. They cared about him? Missed him? Remembered him? Why? They had abandoned him for another hero, but now that he'd returned, albeit unknown to them, he learned that they'd changed nearly all their habits for the better in his honour. He had never known. How could he? He'd been looking forward to hating this mission. He'd been expecting it to be hard to come back and defend the people who had scorned him, but how could he do so if they had done all this for him, even after his death?
Before he'd died, there had only been a few who hadn't abandoned him. Namely, Apollo, the god of truth, Hades and Hestia, the gods whom he'd given thrones on Olympus, and Artemis, who viewed him as the only decent man to walk the earth.
"Where is Poseidon, then? Does he not have children of his own to visit?"
"I'm afraid not, Lord Abaddon," Zeus replied, true concern easily heard in his voice, "After Percy, Poseidon did not have any more demigod children. He has not had any contact with mortals at all for five years now. He is far too absorbed in grieving his son's death to this day."
"I see," Abaddon said. He was truly horrified. What if his father faded? If he no longer had the will to live, then what would that mean for the god of the seas, and in turn, all the world's oceans? Turning to look past the camp, he saw that the water was, indeed, dead-looking. "I'm sorry to hear that." His eyes remained on the beachfront as he spoke to Zeus. "If there is anything, we can do to help the situation, please let us know."
"I think nothing short of bringing his son back will raise Poseidon out of his depression, or he will fade soon, and meet his end in the void," the youngest of the Big Three answered solemnly. His eyes, too, focused on the ocean, its greyish colour almost like watered-down ink. Even the sand of the beach had turned from sloping white hills to gritty black granules.
"Percy was always the best at comforting people. If… he was still alive, that is," Annabeth muttered. A single tear slipped down her face, creating a track along her cheek and under her chin.
Abaddon's gaze turned sad as he stared at her. The pain in his heart resurfaced if only just a little as he did so. She had broken his heart, and even just looking at her was painful. She had thrown him away from a new hero as soon as h had arrived at the camp, but as Abaddon continued to watch her, he saw the heartbreak in her eyes, too. She was just as sad as he was. What was that? She had been the one to leave him. Why would she be the one with a reason to shed tears?
Haetros was the one who snapped Abaddon out of his reveries with a lick to the hand. Smiling softly, Abaddon patted the wolf creature's head once more. Turning to look at his companion, Abaddon saw the meaningful look that Haetros was giving him.
"I know," he replied softly.
Just then, Chiron shuffled forward on his hooves. "Prince Abaddon, if I may inquire, sir…" he trailed off, his voice hesitant. Abaddon cut him off anyway.
"Master Chiron, I do not require such formalities, though everyone seems to think them a necessity. Please, just call me Abaddon. Now, what was your question?"
"Oh, yes," Chiron said as if he suddenly remembered. "Where would you and your army sleep? I fear that we do not have enough rooms for you all at the Big House."
Abaddon grinned at the old centaur. "Master Chiron, with your permission, my troops and I shall be sleeping in our cabin during our stay. And after we leave, you will not need to worry about it," he replied. Then, the immortal signalled to his team and together, they walked toward the cabins.
As soon as they were gone, Chiron's eyebrows raised. "Cabin?" he wondered aloud, before cantering off after the cloak-enwrapped group, which was quite far ahead due to their quick, marching, pace.
Knowing that the gods, campers, and centaur were following them, Abaddon and his team thought they'd give their audience a show. The general knew that they were all curious about the cabin that he had been speaking of, as they'd obviously never heard of such thing.
He stopped right at the edge of the woods near the cabins, close enough for it to be a part of the group, but far enough away that it was secluded. Also, from the edge of the tree, they'd be able to watch for enemies from a strong vantage point.
Turning to the captains, Abaddon asked, "What do you think? Should I put it here?"
Hester and Seraphina were obviously pleased by the placement, as it was also kind of close to cabin eight – the one that represented their former mistress. The others, unfortunately, were less than thrilled. Well, the boys weren't thrilled. Adara and Caminus didn't seem to care, as they were too busy making out. Meanwhile, Proteus, Jace, Belen, Constantine, and Vinum were shuffling nervously from foot to foot, obviously not wanting to be so close to the silver building.
"Well, sucks for them," he said to Haetros and the Cryptile. All he heard were telepathic chuckles.
"We're setting up camp here!" he announced, seeing as none of the boys argued with his decision when he'd asked. Smirking, Abaddon raised his hand, ready to summon a building using his powers of creation. His powers – while they weren't on the level of Order or Chaos, could summon small things, such as objects, animals, or reasonably-sized buildings.
"What are you going to do?"
Abaddon turned to see who had spoken, only to be met with a crowd of campers and gods. He tensed as he realized that Annabeth had ben the one to speak. She was just as beautiful as ever, he couldn't deny that, but he no longer saw her with the unrealistic glow he once had. She was dead to him, and no matter how hard she tried to get back in his favour, a little part of her always would be dead to him.
"Everyone, stand back," he said, instead of answering her question.
Closing his eyes, he began to chant in the ancient language of the void. The words were soft and almost melded together, despite his stressed enunciation. As he spoke, the air began to shimmer, and a warp in the fabric of the universe appeared, before righting itself. In the place of the warp, a tall, dark-wooded cabin stood, with two floors and all the fixtures of a regular wood cabin.
The faces of the campers were written over with awe and admiration as they stared at the cabin that had just appeared – literally out of thin air! Abaddon smirked; he had made quite the impression. Silently, he applauded himself for deciding to speak in the language of the void rather than just snap his fingers to make the building for himself and the others.
"H-how did you do that?" Annabeth inquired, her tone giving away how interested she was.
"Did you forget who I am? As heir, I have powers of creation as well, though not nearly as strong as the creators. The largest I've ever made something was a coliseum, but I've never tried anything outlandish like… an entire planet or something."
Suddenly, a small boy – maybe six or so years old – ran up to him. The boy tugged on his sleeve, looking up at him with wide, inquisitive brown eyes. "Is it true you use Voidfyre?" he asked. His black hair was in his eyes a little, but he did nothing to swipe the fringe out of the way.
Abaddon first adjusted the baseball cap on the boy's head so that it was straight backwards, and then knelt next to him and said, "Yes, I am. Would you like to see?"
The boy nodded eagerly. His face was a picture of awe.
"Be careful, don't get to close,' Abaddon warned. Once the boy nodded again – this time in understanding – Abaddon lifted his hand and made a few flames appear on his fingertips.
"Wow…" the boy said. Once the flames were extinguished, he gave a giggle and then ran over to Hades, who smiled down at him, giving the boy a pat on the shoulder.
Then, Haetros seemed to have felt left out, because he howled again, softer this time, and lit his horn on fire. The crowd let out an expectedly long, "Oooooooo!"
"As I said earlier, this is Haetros. He is the lord of all creatures, as demonstrated earlier, but he is also my trusted companion, faithful ally, and my best friend," Abaddon introduced, smiling down at his companion.
Haetros puffed out his chest a little in pride, making himself look a little more impressive before the purple flames died down.
"If you ask me, he'd just a show-off," Tile hissed in the general's ear, obviously affronted by his words. "Why can't you show us off? I really want to stretch my – sorry, your wings again."
"You know that I can't let you do that, Tile. Remember what happened last time? I'd prefer that you only grace our enemies with your face, right before their deaths so that it may haunt them in the void," he told him.
"Hey! I'm pretty! My mug is better-looking than yours, anyway! You don't even have nice scales!" Tile complained.
"Tile, if I may, I believe that Abaddon means to keep our identity a secret in fear that Destruction of another of our enemies was to figure it out. If they did, we would be at a loss for a distinct advantage," Crypt said, his voice more soothing toward the monster than Abaddon's. Of course, Crypt had a lot more practice at how to talk to the monster than him.
The general sent him a silent flash of gratitude as Tile grumbled, falling silent.
"You're not talking about me, are you?" Haetros suddenly said, intruding on our conversation.
"No, no! Of course, not! Why would we ever do that?" Tile said quickly, sounding guiltier than ever, even though we hadn't been talking about Haetros at all.
The two of them began to argue, and Abaddon left Crypt to make sure they wouldn't try to mentally rip each other apart. His attention returned to the real world just in time to see everyone staring at him.
"Sorry about that," he said, "I must've gotten lost in my thoughts. Anyway, I believe that I will turn in for the night. My soldiers and I will see you in the morning for breakfast. Remember that if you should need us, simply knock on our door."
Then, he – closely followed by the captains – entered the newly created building. He passed the small corner kitchen and living areas, and jogged up the stairs, entering the room on the left, which had a small sign on the door which read, "Boys". On the other side of the all, there was one that said, "Girls", and at the end of the hall, there was a bathroom.
Abaddon entered the room and collapsed into one of the six beds in there. Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to be swallowed by the darkness, drifting to sleep within seconds.