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I received a lot of questions about the status sheet in the previous chap, so I decided to add and change some parts to explain. Check it out AFTER you read this chapter!
HERE WE GO!
Departure of the Prince
"Don't you think this is a little...extravagant, mother?"
"Nonsense! It befits you as the son of Lord Hades, the King of Wealth and Death."
A few hours had passed since my mother's sudden announcement about my official debut on Olympus, and I found myself already worn out by the sheer amount of clothes and accessories she made me try out.
Approximately three hours. Three hours of continuous scrutiny. One which resulted in...this. I looked down at myself, and couldn't help but admit that my mother knew what she was doing.
A black toga with silver geometrical patterns that were actually miniature incantations woven into lines of silk, gold bracelets of a snake swallowing its own tail with diamonds as eyes, a silver necklace with a ruby spider lily. A red spider lily with the flames of Tartarus sealed in its core, a priceless jewelry of a flower that stands for independence, passion, and death. A fitting symbol for Persephone's son.
Despite her being technically blind, my mother seemed to have no problem whatsoever in 'seeing' what was best for me. What's more, the clothing and accessories were tailored and enchanted by Hecate herself, the goddess of magic, so it would 'grow' according to my body. A lifetime order-made outfit, just for me.
I patted my body. I could feel the layer of lean muscle on my little chest, the result of my daily 'playing' with Dusa and the three Furies. From time to time, I would also hook up with the handsome red-headed man with emerald eyes, one whom I had met at the fields of Elysium, the afterworld paradise for brave heroes.
I had met him on one of my 'explorations' through my father's domain when I was still three. Divine kids grow up really fast, you see. Of course, the Furies accompanied me in case something happened.
We first found him sitting on a huge rock all by himself, his black cloak billowing in the breeze like a raven's wing. The Furies started to bustle in excitement once they saw his face, and urged me to talk with the man, which I was already going to do. Curious about his identity, I had walked up to him and asked his name, saying that I wanted to be his friend.
He was a queer man who insisted that he was a fool, and didn't deserve paradise, neither the right to flaunt his name in pride. He also froze when he saw Dusa for the first time. He called himself 'Persea', though I doubted it was his real name. I called him Percy by mistake, and the name stuck since then.
Anyways, he was the one who agreed to teach me martial arts, on the condition that I honestly answer his question about what I wanted to do with my powers.
"I want to help construct a better future where there is peace and prosperity, no matter how slim the chances are."
It had been my one true wish from the first time I set eyes on the millions upon millions of tortured souls ferried into my father's kingdom every single day. The heart-breaking wails would torment me when I sleep and occupy my thoughts when I was awake. I wasn't sure why, but I just knew that I needed to save them. And what better way of salvation was there than creating a better world?
Percy had gaped for a whole minute, and then he had burst out laughing. When I asked what was so funny, he just ruffled my head with a wide grin and twinkling eyes.
"Always remember and cherish that wish, my prince. Always. Promise me that, and I will grant you everything I've learned in my life."
I agreed without a second thought. I mean, hey, this man was obviously some big-shot hero to get admitted into the fields of Elysium, and the sheer amount of divinity that he hid in his soul was enough to stun me.
How did I sense that? Did I ever mention that my right crimson eye could see souls? While not as flashy as my left one, it sure comes in handy when I want to know someone better. Percy carried no ulterior motive nor ill will, so I decided to trust him. What I didn't know, was that he was a slave driver.
The creepy way he grinned from ear to ear when he heard of my blessing from auntie Styx herself...it still gives me nightmares.
Day after day, he would teach me the arts of Pankration, chariot riding, spear throwing, archery, hunting, sword fighting...and how to masterfully wield a giant scythe. An honest-to-god scythe. Yes, the kind of thing you would imagine the Grim Reaper would be holding. Don't get me started on the absurdity of the choice of weapons.
'How is that even practical?', I had raged. 'Who fights with a scythe in ancient Greece in the first place!?'
Well, Percy did, apparently. And he was god-damn lethal with it.
Strangely, my mother approved my personal trainer without batting an eye (no, not a joke, it's not funny!), even though he was a two-faced prince charming with a sadistic streak a mile wide. Percy would gently nudge me with the pommel of his scythe and whisper with a warm smile that he'll, quote; 'shove it up somewhere very private' if I don't quit playing dead. The irony of the son of Hades playing dead in the underworld wasn't lost on me.
...Okay, maybe Percy was purely born that way. Hmm...maybe that's why Dusa avoids him...but the way her soul shivered in his presence was...hmm. Where is Percy anyway? I haven't seen him for the past few days.
Meh, knowing him, he's probably up to something new...for me. Oh boy, do I feel the love right now...hahaha...shit.
"Korecres? Are you all right? There's nothing to be afraid of. I'll be there to support you."
My mother stroked my cheek, probably mistaking my grimace for nervousness. To be honest, I was already prepared for dooms, curses, and other Greek stuff so I'm...well...deathly calm, so to speak.
I caught a familiar silhouette from the corner of my eye. The white armor that glinted from the depths of his tattered black cloak was unmistakable, as well as the bright green eyes that shone from within his hood. Persephone inclined her head in acknowledgment.
"Ah...Champion of Zeus, what brings you here?"
"My deepest apologies for this rude interruption, but I have a gift for his majesty. A treasure befitting of his debut among the gods of Olympus."
"My, my...! A personal gift, you say! My son is indeed most blessed!"
"Your generous praise flatters me, for I am not worthy of your respect, Lady Persephone. Now, if I may...?"
"Of course. Do not take too long, though. My son mustn't be...unfashionably late, after all."
"As you command. ...Korecres, come here. I have something I want you to own."
My mentor's piercing eyes gazed into mine. I gulped and stepped hesitantly forward. Percy chuckled. He lifted the large bundle of black silk he had been carrying all this time and handed it to me.
I swallowed. Slowly, carefully, I unwrapped the bundle in my arms. I gasped in awe at the sight it held within.
"It's...it's beautiful...!", I whispered. Percy nodded, a faraway look in his green eyes.
"This is the scythe I wielded in life and the treasure gifted to me after death. A scythe you shall now hold."
It wasn't the steel ones we used for training, the kind of blunt scythes with no sharp edges. Oh no, it was far more than that. What rested on top of the black silk was far more spectacular.
A silvery black scythe the length of an average man, with a blade longer than an outstretched arm and a razor-sharp edge of bone white, wrapped up in Stygian chains to prevent it from cutting something it shouldn't. With an involuntary shudder, I instinctively realized that if the scythe were to 'awaken', it would easily slice through the Styx-forged iron like a hot blade against butter.
A scythe that is capable of cutting through anything in the universe...the sharpest weapon on earth...why does it sound so familiar?
"When the time comes for you to be deemed worthy by the blade will you learn of its name, thus becoming its true master. I believe that this will be wielded properly in your hands for the right cause, and I sincerely hope, for the right reasons."
I felt something warm rise up in my chest. I bowed deeply so my expression was hidden from his view.
"I...I will do my very best!"
"Thank you. That would be enough for me."
Percy patted my head. His hand was filled with callouses. A warrior's hand. He snapped his fingers.
"Yes, I almost forgot! Throw the scythe as far as you can. Go on, trust me."
I lifted the scythe with both hands. The giant weapon was surprisingly light for its size. I twisted my hip, planting my feet firmly into the earth. With a grunt, I let the force free. The piece of metal flew through the air like an oversized icepick some kid decided to decorate in goth fashion. It stabbed into the ground several hundred meters away with a deep, resounding, clang.
"Good. Now, try to concentrate on the scythe. Imagine that there is a chain connecting you and the weapon."
I closed my eyes. As bizarre as it may sound, I did feel a line tugging at my soul, like a leash. I nodded.
"Splendid. Then, tug at the chain with all your might. Don't think. Feel it."
With my eyes still closed, I followed my mentor's advice.
Come on, boy. Come on, come back to daddy.
The scythe didn't budge. I had a vague feeling that it was shaking its non-existing head. I sweat-dropped.
Please. I know you still haven't deemed me worthy, but please give me a chance.
This time, a tingling feeling shot from the base of my skull to the ends of my spine. As if in a static shock, my fingers jerked. The scythe immediately detached itself from the ground and flew back into my hand at frightening speeds. I swear that it was faster than a bullet.
Percy clapped his hands in approval.
"Great job! Lastly, try to will it into morphing into something portable. Anything is fine."
I scratched my chin. An idea popped into my mind. Yes, that would do.
With an image in mind, I willed the scythe to do my bidding. With a soft hum, it transformed into what seemed to be once a silver ring, now blackened through the eternal passage of time. I slipped it onto my right middle finger, enjoying the warm sensation of the ring as it adjusted itself. Snug and fit.
I lifted my head, gratitude bubbling up in my chest.
"Thank you, Per...cy...?"
My mentor was gone. I shook my head with a smile. I felt an invisible hand on my shoulder before it too disappeared. I raised a fist into the air and grinned at my deeply moved mother.
"To Olympus!"
The dynamic between Percy and Dusa is not exactly TYPE-MOON accurate (at least Fate/prototype wise) in this story, but I like this better so...yeah.
PS. The scythe is not qualified as a Noble Phantasm for the time being, for Korecres isn't worthy yet. And yes, Medusa was slain. There is at least a two-generation difference between Perseu-, I mean, Percy and the Argonauts.
Next time, The Banquet of Olympus! Keep the reviews flowing, and let me hear your opinions and thoughts!
X-kalibuuuur, over and out.
