A/N: I am so sorry for the massive delay...I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Next Chapter: The End of the Horizon

Reflection from the Ancient

Part II: The Voyage

"My lord father."

/

Poseidon's eyes moved to Percy carelessly, like a god examining a mortal before him. As Percy rose from his bow, however, he could feel the Sea God's intense and focused gaze beneath his sea-green eyes.

"Greetings, my son," answered Poseidon, which made the demigod even startled.

"You...you believe me?"

Percy stuttered, his eyes not leaving those of his father, not because he willed to, but because he couldn't bring himself to. The eyes were almost burning with interest.

He regretted it as soon as the words escaped from his mouth. What a stupid remark.

"Who would you be, if not a son of mine?" It was more of a confirmation than a question. "You wield the power of the sea, young man. I have watched you fight."

A small piece of amusement was hinted there. Percy swallowed.

"And for I have no memory of siring you, your claim had become quite believable, however disturbing."

So even the Olympians were not aware of the cause of his sudden travel in time. A depressing news, Percy thought absentmindedly, now I'll have to count on something mightier than the ancient gods to go back.

Taking the time to pause, Poseidon began to observe him again, his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Percy didn't like it very much; he had never gotten that look from his father before. His brain kept trying to remind him that this wasn't the Poseidon his Father, that the man he was talking to was a different and distant Sea God, but Percy was not a child of Athena. He was a child of Poseidon. His movements didn't follow the logic but his emotions, like the sea that could swift its calmness to violence very easily. He wasn't able to press down his feelings just because it wasn't the right time and didn't fit the circumstances. He wasn't able to soothe his joy to see his father. Wasn't able to name all the emotions ballooning inside him. He might not be able to hold the tears long enough for this conversation to end.

"You are a powerful demigod." Poseidon said at last. "Perhaps the most powerful one I have ever witnessed. No child of mine, until now, has controlled the water so masterfully and thoroughly as you."

Percy stayed silent. He wondered why Poseidon was discussing his powers. Maybe it was a compliment. Yet there was no warmness that had usually followed it. What Percy could detect instead was...satisfaction. And some pride added. He hoped the latter was bigger than the former.

All of a sudden, he didn't feel like continuing with the conversation.

Poseidon said,

"I have a quest for you."

Percy froze.

Dead silence poured in like the waves.

If those were real waves, and if there weren't any sea gods near, the waves would be swirling and flapping against each other, adopting his moods.

Percy didn't move.

And Poseidon just moved on.

"Zeus's son, Heracles, is on a set of quests. So far he has slayed the Nemean lion and killed the nine-headed hydra. The labour he is now indulged in is to capture the Erymanthian boar. I want you to have the boar killed before he manages to capture it."

Perhaps he had hoped the absurd, to think Poseidon would treat him like he had in the future. But he had also imagined fairly various ways things would turn out if he met his father again. None of them included a quest.

To spoil Heracles's quest? As usual, there was no point of doing that, merely a waste of time, effort, or even a life. It was a game. Game of the Olympians, not on their own, but with the demigods being the actual players.

He was no stranger to being a pawn of the gods. But that didn't mean he had also been manipulated by his father. That didn't mean he was less angry, either.

He had no idea how a person could freeze and boil at the same time, which he managed to do.

"I am no tool." he said quietly. "I will not be engaged in the affairs of the Olympians, father."

Briefly, Poseidon's eyes flashed. He must have sensed his anger.

"You'll have to be more cautious with your words, my son."

Percy looked up at him. It ached to see that his appearance, except for the clothing, was the same as the Poseidon he knew from the future. Had his father been like this in the ancient days? Sterner, colder, more indifferent, like Zeus? How did he change so much?

Could it be all his delusion, then, several minutes ago, when he felt like the sea was comforting and guiding him? Making him feel at home, soothing him, giving him strength?

He wondered. He had to wonder if any of them had been real, even if just a tiny bit.

Of course not, he thought to himself bitterly, of course they weren't.

It was obvious, it was reasonable, it was natural-why would Poseidon feel affection toward a boy he had just met, even if he was his son? As much as it was painful, Percy knew he was hoping for the impossible.

But he wanted to say something. No matter how weird and blurted it might seem. No matter how helpless he felt, and no matter how angry to his father he was.

"I'm...I wanted to meet you, father."

A shame, he felt the tear welled up in his eyes. He didn't make any effort to hold them up longer; he was tired of pretending he was okay.

When the tear flowed freely down his cheek, he decided he didn't care about anything anymore, although his brain never stopped alarming stupid, stupid, stupid. He let himself break into a sob.

To Percy's surprise, Poseidon didn't say anything. Or more likely, he couldn't say anything. The demigod saw him slightly opening his mouth, then closing it again. He repeated it two times.

Percy couldn't really guess what Poseidon would be thinking now, yet one thing he was sure was that his father was astonished indeed.

The Sea God, probably, wouldn't have any experiences giving a demigod-not to say his child-a quest and seeing him cry.

The normal reaction would be: Thank you, father, for giving me an opportunity to prove myself as a worthy son.

Poseidon was speechless.

He really didn't know what to do.

Percy found it strange yet interesting(while crying, yes), because he had never seen Poseidon like that. His father would talk to him, warn him of dangers, and apologize sometimes, but he always knew what to say or do, whatever it was.

After a long period of silence, he did speak. It was when Percy's tears almost stopped.

"Good luck with your quest...Perseus."

He dissipated into a salty mist.

"Sir!"

The young soldier brightened when he saw the demigod making out his way to the shore.

"Sir, everyone is looking for you!"

Percy walked out from the saltwater. Without caring for the sand, he strode toward the boy.

"I need a boat."

"A boat, sir?"

Percy turned around to take a glimpse of the dark, night sea.

"Yes. A boat. Better if it's a good one."

The boy frowned. Even though he was young, he talked fast and clearly, like a matured soldier.

"Are you leaving?"

"Yes, I am."

"Is it...the will of the gods?"

This one guessed well. Percy saw the boy's narrowed eyes, heading toward the sea, probably to the white temple. He nodded. Maybe not the will of the gods, but still.

"My father wishes me to do him a favor."

It wasn't that he wanted to go on the quest. He hated it. And yet as he thought about it, on his way swimming to the beach, it was better than being engaged in another battle. He would have to kill people again. He loathed it.

A quest from the Sea God would serve as a useful excuse.

The young soldier didn't ask more. He nodded once, and turned to face Percy again.

"I've seen some boats not so far from here. As for the other people, I think I might be able to inform them of this, after."

Percy made a thin smile. "Thank you." he patted the boy on the shoulder.

Although in the dark, he saw the young man blush. He shook his head, the curly brown hair whiffling.

"It's my honor, sir," he mumbled shyly.

The boy led him to the opposite side of the shore, where an array of the wooden boats were situated. A few guards were watching them over. The boats were acquired from the enemy they fought against today, the boy explained, which made Percy uncomfortable. He would be sailing on a boat deprived of the people he had killed.

The guards readily let him take the boat when they recognized him. Actually, they were excited to meet him, maybe even more than the boy. It felt strange seeing them idolizing the demigods, for he knew that the lives of demigods were less likable than those of normal people. Maybe that was because the ancient people had different ideas on ideal lives.

While the guards helped him push the boat to the water, the boy was nowhere to be seen. Percy had wondered if he went back to the victory celebration, but after a few minutes, he returned with some supplies. There were clothes, food, and bottles of water inside the woven sacks. Percy appreciated the boy greatly. The young soldier blushed again.

When the wind blew from the right direction, and the boat was ready to sail off, he asked him his name.

"It's Castalious, sir." the boy answered.

Percy boarded and seated himself on the boat, then checked the rows just in case he needed them. After hoisting the white sail with natural proficiency, he turned to see the boy again.

"It was good to meet you, Castalious."

As the boat advanced faster and faster toward the sea, Castalious shouted back.

"May the gods be with you, my lord."

Oh, I cannot doubt it more, he thought, but waved his hand in the salty winds. He kept waving until he could no longer see the shore, strangely melancholy. Was the ancient surroundings affecting him in some ways? He half glared, half smiled at countless stars in the sky.

The glare was for the gods.

The smile was for the stars.

Percy had thought the voyage would go well. Thanks to Castalious, he had water, clothes, and food. (he had no problem catching fish but didn't enjoy it. It would not be likable if he had to eat a fish which could talk to him.) He could navigate well and even could control the flow of the currents. It had seemed impossible for the voyage to screw up.

The first day, it could not have been better. He watched the sunrise, and due to its beautifullness, he even considered giving Apollo an offering, for a brief second. Then he concluded the Sun God was just showing off his awesomeness to a demigod on quest, and it was pretty plausible. He knew how Apollo had been before he met Meg McCaffrey and went over a bunch of trials.

When the sun rose high, he ate some bread with water. The sea was twinkling in dazzling white, its tranquil surface reflecting much of the sunshine. It was a little hot, but the clouds were blocking the sun rays quite effectively. The boat was sailing well without much of his interference to the waves. He spent most of his time lying on the wooden surface, and it felt fantastic. Even when he was sulking on the quest his father gave him, it was the sea where he felt the most comfortable.

The second day was the complete opposite. It was a disaster. Since dawn it started raining. The subtle, soft winds transformed into a storm. By the time he was supposed to have breakfast, Percy was struggling to keep the boat from flipping, pouring all his might and power at it.

"Come on!" he shouted, facing down the fierce waves that kept slapping his face, "This was your wants, not mine!"

The sea didn't respond. Nor did its god. Percy sighed, exasperated.

"So it isn't my fault if I'm unable to finish the quest, right? Father?"

The wave struck a blow to his face.

"Is that a disagreement?"

Seeing there still wasn't an answer, Percy decided he didn't care whether Poseidon agreed or not. He would just let the waves carry his boat. If the Sea God wanted a demigod to do his quest, he would do something about it. If he was too annoyed to help his son, well, he wouldn't be able to mock Zeus by ruining Heracles's quest. Either way Percy was completely fine.

He grinned. It felt childish, nevertheless very good.

With a rope, he tied himself and the sacks to the boat, firmly. That way he would still have his supplies with him, even when the boat went upside down hundreds of times.

Before letting go of his concentration on controlling the sea, he made a mental note.

Food, Water, Clothes. Himself. All tied to a sturdy boat. He could breathe underwater. And a small knife plus Anaklusmos were inside his safe-sealed pocket, just in case. Perfect.

With a breath, he let go of his focus.

The boat capsized.

Percy was underwater.

Poseidon was staring.

At which exactly, that he didn't know. It could be his golden statue outside the sea palace, or his glorious trident, or the edge of his toes. He had a meeting with his vessels a few hours later, so now would be the perfect time to consider which outfit would best suit him. Yes, that was what he was continuously thinking about. Himation or clamide, that is the question. Only one thing to consider.

Except that there was more to think.

It was frustrating to find himself occasionally lost in thoughts on Perseus.

It was...surprising to find himself staring at the demigod through the thin air.

Everything had seemed manageable until he gave the boy a quest. His son from the future was more powerful than all the demigods he knew, possibly even more than some of the gods. Without a doubt, Perseus was more than capable of accomplishing the quest.

Then the boy spat out that he didn't want it, professed that he had wanted to meet his father, and cried.

Cried.

Poseidon was, for now, deferring his conclusion on what it had meant.

Not only because it made him uncomfortable, but because-

- "Seriously? I cannot even eat anything!"

If he willed, the Sea God could hear a voice. Which he had heard a day ago. It had been anxious then. Now it was groaning, followed by grimacing, and back to grumbling.

Poseidon had to admit Perseus had some point. After all, it was more than difficult to eat something while tied to a half-sinking boat, the body drowning and resurfacing in a repetitive cycle. Even if one had the ability to breathe underwater, it was a totally different matter to eat (half)underwater.

Through his godly eyes he saw, the demigod and his boat floating(?) helplessly on the violent sea. Whenever a massive wave swallowed them, Perseus tried his best to protect the bread on his hand. At first he just held them tight, only resulting in eco-friendly seasoning of salt added on the food. After that, he just managed to gulp the rest of the bread before the wave struck. As some hours went by, Perseus was getting better and better at choosing the right time to eat, between the intervals of the waves.

"Great, now you're making me starve," said Perseus, gazing down at the water full of fish. He glared at the creatures as if they would send his words to their king. It was of no use, evidently, since Poseidon was watching him anyway.

Not exactly starving, strictly speaking. During his observation of the demigod, the Sea God had seen him swallowing eleven bites of bread in total. It was quite admirable of Perseus to stick to his own way of...disagreeing.

Or perhaps defying, to be more direct.

And Poseidon was not outraged. Somehow.

He had pondered on it; when mortals disobeyed him, his anger usually struck them. While it faded as fast as it arose, he had never felt fine when he ought to be furious. It was the same when Perseus tried to decline his quest a day ago. Yet this time, with Perseus's little rebellion on the Mediterranean Sea, it was the one and only exception. What he felt was more of a dumbfounded-ness than wrath.

It was a pure mystery.

"Hello? Father? Did I mention that I'm about to starve to death?"

A tired and tiring voice of his future son was enough to make the Sea God sigh.

He couldn't really let him die, could he?

When Percy opened his eyes, he was on shore.

Still tied to his boat, the nearly-empty stomach growling, covered in sand so white that it almost resembled the snow. Shortly lifting his body to confirm if the food was all right, for he lost the bitten bread on his hand while sleeping in the vicious sea.

The son of Poseidon untied himself, stumbled toward the sack of bread, and for the first time in two days, enjoyed a peaceful, gratifying meal. Truly, hunger was the best 'food'.

The seagulls chirped, the morning's sun bathed him, and Percy did not wish for nothing but to simply lie down and bestow himself some rest. For a future person who had time traveled to Ancient Greece, he hadn't had enough chances to be a tourist. Unless one does not consider living like an ancient person a valuable experience.

No need to say more: he didn't consider it to be one.

Percy sighed.

He briefly glanced at the landscapes around him, from the tiniest trees to the highest mountains. Again he turned to face the sea.

He wondered if Poseidon was actually keeping track of him.

Because if the Sea God hadn't, he might be on an unknown island right now.