A/N: This is the next to last chapter. The twenty-fifth will wrap this up. For those that have read this thing throughout, I appreciate it. The next chapter should bring everything together.
Thermopylae, The Hot Gates
The field had turned to Chaos. Greeks and Romans fighting against monsters. Hazel's spell had worked and lifted the mist from the plain. Michael, Reyna, Gwen, and Piper had formed a protective ring around Hazel, Frank, Zoë Nightshade, and Phoebe. A growing pile of gold dust surrounded them. They heard the bellow of Atlas even as Krios did the same near Jason. Thousands of bodies littered the ground. Romans, Greeks, half of the Amazons Hylla had brought. She had fallen. Reyna had watched an empousa open her sister's throat with her talons. She had not had time to mourn, mourning was for after the battle.
Reyna jabbed her gladius through the midsection of an earthborn as Michael smashed a telkhine with his scuta. Gwen was using a pila to buy time for the archers when the javelin thrown by a dracenae struck her in the chest. Unlike her recovery on the fields of Mars in New Rome, Reyna did not see her recovering from this. Piper killed the dracenae and danced back to their circle. The group buying time for Frank, Zoë, and Phoebe had shrunk. Thalia rejoined the group with a leaping thrust that downed the a large cyclops. She looked toward Reyna. Both of them had superficial but nonthreatening wounds. As when they were always together, there was a slight longing in their looks that a near twenty year age gap would not allow them to act on. The monsters kept coming.
Suddenly a booming laugh echoed through the valley. Every soldier and monster turned to look at the scene on the high ground above them. Iapetus, oldest and most powerful of the titans, held his spear in his hand and impaled upon it was the King of Greece. "Behold your King!" his voice ripped through the area. Zoë Nightshade dropped to her knees. Thalia saw tears in her eyes. Across the field Hunter lay unmoving, the arrow still sticking from her neck. Naomi had crawled to their group, a deep gash in her left leg. Phoebe's hand dropped to rest on Zoë's shoulder. Thalia's eyes flicked to Annabeth. She was back the blood daughter of Percy, Thalia was certain that tears were streaming down both their faces.
Percy's hand shot forward. He gripped the spear and began to pull himself forward. Even in the valley below they could hear his grunts of pain as he inched closer to the titan. Percy's right hand curled into a claw and the titan was not moving. Oh no, Thalia thought, he's doing it again. He's doing what he did in Tartarus again.
Annabeth looked at her husband. The earth was vibrating. Percy's hand was still curled into the claw. She knew what he was doing, she surprised herself that at this moment it did not bother her. She watched as he forced the spear further. She watched as the broadest part of the blade was forced out of his back with a burst of blood. The muscles and veins of his left arm were bulging as he forced his body closer to Iapetus.
Zoë fought against her arms. She wanted to assist her father. Annabeth wanted her to, but it was not possible now. Beyond Percy she saw Jason use a gust of wind to fly above Krios and land with his gladius in the crown of the titan's head. Percy's arms were shaking. One was still gripping the spear shaft. One was shivering as he felt Iapetus' blood pulse slowly under his control. He was just a foot from the titan. Kill him, Enyo said, Destroy your enemies. Destroy those that would destroy Greece. Perseus the Destroyer.
"What are you doing?" grunted Iapetus. Percy's hand dropped from the spear.
"What I was named to do?" His left hand rose and Riptide penetrated the base of Iapetus' mouth and he kept stabbing until the point of the blade appeared through the crown of Iapetus' head. Destroy them, destroy them all. Percy stumbled but caught himself on the titan's corpse. The spear still protruded from both his front and back. The flames of Greek fire danced in his eyes. Slowly they turned to the frozen fighters beneath them. No was not looking at him. He heard Zoë and Annabeth rushing to him. Jason landed behind him. "Destroy the titan's army!" he shouted in Greek and fell to the ground. Zoë caught him and he felt her tears land on his face.
"Patér, patér," she was muttering. Annabeth's hands gripped his. She did not have to say anything, he just knew. Jason appeared beaten and Percy could see in his eyes he was close to breaking. He had seen all the things the eidolon had done in his body. His blue eyes were focused on the ground. Percy's moved to the battle below. Greeks and Romans alike were putting Iapetus' army to sword.
"Operum, imperator!" he snapped. Reflexively Jason stood straighter and his eyes moved to Percy. A series of soft pops signaled the arrival of deities.
"Ave rex meus," responded Jason.
"Rex meus, from you I will take that." He smiled. "My king, I thought I was the enemy."
"Never mine, brother. Just he that destroyed me." The booming voice of Mars was ordering Greeks and Romans to sheath their weapons. Athena and Poseidon knelt next to him. Two more goddesses were close but Artemis and Enyo hung back. Percy reached up and gently touched Zoë's cheek.
"You make me so proud, Zoë, so proud."
"I love you, patér."
"I love you, too."
Hills Overlooking Thermopylae
Jason had wandered away. Jason could feel the poison in his veins. As if through a fog he saw Luke, chief agent of the Titan ordering the eidolon to drink it. He fell to his knees. His ears heard the shouts of gods. His eyes showed him a different scene. Three old women, Percy would call the Moirai, he called them the Parcae. In their hands were two strings. One was blue, one was green.
Two inches separated the strings their widest. Atropos held a pair of scissors, the other two held the strings. The strings were intertwined, separated, and then wrapped around themselves again. Clotho's hands held where they rejoined and only a single thread of indeterminate color left her hand. It wound its way into a golden crown.
"Ananke herself has demanded your choice, hero." Lachesis said.
"I am no hero."
"You are not dead." He understood the implication. There is still time.
"What is that crown?"
"It could be…" started Atropos.
"Many things…" Lachesis continued.
"King…" began Atropos again.
"Or emperor." Clotho finished. A fire was hungrily climbing from the pit between them. It rose, tongues of flame reaching for two strings.
"It is your choice, Son of Jupiter, or fire will claim both." He looked at Lachesis as she spoke.
"Is it for the King of Greece or an Emperor of Rome?"
"That decision…" Clotho said.
"Has yet to be made." Lachesis completed.
"Why is it my choice?"
"That is for Ananke to decide," Atropos' voice was calm, but final.
"The crown has a Roman eagle."
"It could be an eagle of Rome," Lachesis told him.
"Or an eagle of Persia." He looked at Clotho as she spoke.
"There are no eagles of Greece?" he asked.
"Not since Alexander and the Diodachi."
"HE is capable of making the Hellenistic world happen again under the Eagle of Alexander."
"You believe much, Jason Grace."
"One thing I believe above all others. That Percy Jackson is a better man than I can be again." He cast his eyes to the ground. "Cut my string, Lady Morta. I only ask for time to say farewell." She cut the blue string and the single cord running toward the crown became a brilliant green. Jason smiled.
His eyes opened again and he found they had moved him next to Percy. All of their friends, the friends he had betrayed, surrounded them. Thalia spoke first. "What is in your hand?" he looked down and saw a smoldering blue string. It was rapidly burning away.
"My choice," he whispered. He could feel the poison coursing through his body.
"Bastard," said Percy as he forced himself to his knees over Jason. Jason could see the wound in his midsection healing as Poseidon manipulated an orb of sea water. "They let me watch your conversation, but I could do nothing."
"Then you know what I said and I meant it. Bring me a scroll and Roman to record what I say." In a flash Hermes left the body of his son and Mercury knelt next to the dying man.
"I, Imperator Jason Grace, pardon and restore all title and rank to Praetor Reyna Ramirez-Arellano and Legates Frank and Hazel Zhang, Michael Kahale, and Gwen…" he saw Reyna shake her head and closed his eyes. "And I beg their forgiveness. I cancel the slave shipments from Macedon to Rome and formally denounce Octavian of the Augers. The legions are now under the command of Praetor Reyna. They are to leave…" his breathing had become ragged and pained. "They are to leave Greece. The Greek King will build a world the people deserve. He is a better man than their Imperator and it is my honor to have known him." A long and broken breath escaped him and he moved to more.
"That is the man who saved me," Zoë said softly and she embraced her father.
"That is the real, Jason Grace," Percy replied. "Lord Mercury, if you could deliver the message to the soldiers below." The messenger god vanished and Percy looked around him.
Annabeth and Zoë were battered but standing. Naomi was being healed by Apollo while Will looked after wounded mortals and demigods. Nico was using skeleton warriors to drag Prometheus forward. Nico was bleeding from a head wound and Will rushed to him. Zoë Nightshade and Phoebe stood next to Artemis looking down upon the body of Hunter. Thalia was cradling Jason's head while Reyna comforted her. Frank held a physically exhausted Hazel and studied Percy. While the spear wound had miraculously healed, damage from other wounds plagued him as he stood. Percy walked toward the edge of the cliff. He saw Michael holding back approaching Romans with the few remaining Amazons assisting him.
The soldiers in the valley looked up at him. The rent armor was apparent. The coming cacophony began slowly. Red cloaked Spartans with a bloodied and proud Clarisse at their head began the rhythmic chant. Spear and sword against shield. Clarisse said it first.
"Vasiliás tou thanátou! Vasiliás tou thanátou! Vasiliás tou thanátou!" Soon thousands of Greek voices joined until a thunderous roar filled the Hot Gates. "Vasiliás tou thanátou! Vasiliás tou thanátou! Vasiliás tou thanátou!" The king of death, he thought. So much death, yet they cheer my appearance. What have I done to deserve such soldiers as these?
Loyalty, a voice said in his head. He turned to see a goddess he had never seen before staring at him. She stood next to Artemis, tiered away from the familial connections of Poseidon and Athena. They knew for as much as they are loyal to their king, you are loyal to them. There is no limit to what 'such soldiers as these' would do for such a king as this. He heard her soft mockery of his statement, but simultaneously he saw his father and Athena nodding in agreement.
"And such loyalty," Artemis said as she approached him. "I intend to reform my hunt, but of five hunters you have cared for, one gave her life for her father, three are refusing to leave him, and the final one will not join me without permission from her patér." Turned and looked upon Naomi as she approached him. She would not meet his eyes.
"It was Hunter's wish to return to milady's service. I feel in her memory I must do so. But I will not go without your blessing, patér."
"If it is your wish, daughter, I will not deny your service to a goddess. But know, you are welcome within the halls of my family forever." She embraced him and he held her tightly. "Go, your mistress waits." He turned to see a collection of Roman officers approaching. Michael led them. Collectively they pressed their fists to their chests in salute. Surprisingly Michael did not speak, but a man to his left. A tribune by the look of his uniform he spoke for them.
"Ave rex Graeci. Relinque mortuos sepelire regiones petere pacem nostram." Percy studied the man.
"What is your name, tribune?" The officer studied Percy before answering.
"Lucius Anicius Gallus."
"Go home, Tribune. Bury your dead and go home."
"Ave rex Graeci." The group saluted and began the return to their soldiers. Percy watched them leave then looked to his Greek soldiers.
"Deíte tous na févgoun. Kai proetoimáste tous nekroús mas gia to taxídi ston ántra tis várkas." [Watch them leave. And prepare our dead for their trip to the boatman.] City commanders began to issues. Orders to their soldiers. He turned to his daughters. "Take me to my daughter." What kind of man sends off his children to the boat man first? Demosthenes, he thought suddenly, Demosthenes sent off his children to the boatman. And he was the best man I knew. He sent his children to the boat man for me as his king. A series of orders yelled out below him caused him to turn. He looked to the Romans. The majority of the Romans were preparing to move off. That contingent Romans pounded their fists against their chestplates then extended their arms in salute to the King of Greece. He raised his hand to acknowledge the honors presented to him and the army began to move back to their original camp.
Percy turned back to the place where his daughter lay. With tears he walked slowly toward her and sunk to his knee. Inside, two different Percy Jacksons waged war upon each other. Percy Jackson the father and husband wanted to break down and weep openly at the death of a girl he had fully accepted as his daughter. She had been the most reluctant to accept him, at the same time she had grown to rely on him the most. King Perseus understood the need of the state. He understood that soldiers unfortunately did not care about the personal losses of their leaders, they merely wanted the leader. Her eyes are open, he thought and he gently put his hand down and closed them. He looked upon his daughter with shockingly white hair and the tears ran freely. Later he did not know how long he had knelt there, but when he realized his surroundings.
Five daughters surrounded him. Even the one leaving him for the hunt surrounded him as he mourned the girl. He requested silver and green cloth so that a shroud could be made. Silver with a green trident and bow to showcase her loyalty to the Son of Poseidon, her father, and the Goddess of the Hunt. Commanders approached him and stopped. Because what King Perseus believed, that soldiers unfortunately did not care about the personal losses of their leaders, that was the opposite of the truth. While in the battle soldiers needed the cold impartiality that could decide the outcome of an engagement, in the aftermath of a battle they wanted to see what their commanders saw now. They wanted to see a man mourning his daughter, a man who had sacrificed his own children to keep them, the Greek people, safe. Perseus was the man who had convinced Athens to name a king and united city states that had never agreed on anything. To the soldiers in the field, the soldiers currently building pyres and sewing shrouds, King Perseus was Greece.