Chapter 2

"Uncle! Uncle! Are we going to Mother now?"

Uncle Kyros laughed heartily. "Are you sick and tired of me already, Leon? It's only been a few weeks, boy."

"Doesn't mean I don't miss Mother!" he shot back.

"Okay, boy. Let's head on back to Mother."

They switched course, turning onto the paved-stone road heading south. Originally, they had been headed for Adrianople. They'd just finished a trade route up to Narona, where a small trading post had been set up as a transfer station to supply the troops marching north toward Italia. Adrianople was where Uncle Kyros' base of operations was. He often went down into Constantinople, but Leon had never been to the capital of the Eastern Roman Empire. Instead, they turned down the Axios River, moving toward the village Leon was from: a very Christian town just upriver from Thessalonica.

Leon wanted to see his mother because she wasn't feeling very well, even though that was part of the reason why he'd gone out with his uncle in the first place. It all started when he was very young, perhaps five or six years old. Weird monsters began attacking them. He quickly found that he was able to destroy them, turn them into dust.

But whatever he'd experienced wasn't what his mother experienced. She constantly worried and prayed to the Lord to ask for forgiveness... that they weren't worthy of such punishment and that she would atone for any sins she unknowingly committed.

Recently, when on the trip with Uncle Kyros, Leon discovered that he had some control of lightning.

They'd camped out at night and needed to start a fire. Uncle Kyros was having some trouble, especially because it was raining that night. Starting a fire was almost impossible, even with the fire striker and flint. Uncle Kyros went back into the shelter to grab more flint, as he'd destroyed most of it. As he was doing so, Leon poked at the wood, pretending to hope it would magically light on fire.

Suddenly, his finger felt hot and hummed with energy. A blast of lightning shot out of his fingertip and ignited the wood. Immediately, a fire bloomed and miraculously stayed lit.

Uncle Kyros jumped out at the sudden sound, calling out, "Leon! What happened?"

He only found a small eleven-year-old boy staring in shock at a brilliant red glow.

But his uncle, too, was a devout believer in the faith of Christ.

When Leon told him that lightning shot out of his finger, he just laughed and said, "No, boy. Don't be so silly. The fire is just God's way of telling us that we're blessed tonight."

As a child, he had been told to worship God and revere the Lord. But some part of him refused to accept that. He never really knew why. So he pretended that he believed in it because that's what everyone else was supposed to believe in.

Although it had only been two weeks since that discovery, he suddenly found himself believing that this power of his was real, and that Christianity wasn't real in his world.

He remembered a conversation he'd had with his mother a couple years ago about his father. Since they were village folk they were never subject to the same discrimination they would have faced because Mother had a child out of wedlock. In fact, some believed that perhaps he was the next coming of Christ.

"He was amazing, your father," Mother said dreamily. "Strong, handsome, powerful. He was everything I could have ever wanted. Except... he wasn't a normal man. I could tell that right away. He was like divinity. He treated me like I was Empress Theodora. It was truly the most wondrous time of my life. It is so sad that it lasted no longer than a few days."

"What... what was he like?"

"Oh my..." Mother rested her chin on her hand. "Long black shoulder-length hair... grey-and-black beard trimmed neatly. Brilliant electric-blue eyes with a serious and proud face. In many ways, he's like you, Leon. But you have my nose. I will always remember that."

Leon blushed.

"And he called himself... the King God. Oh, it really almost is as if I'm the next Mary. And you would be the next Christ, Leon. You could be the saviour of the people."

Back then, he wasn't entirely sure if he wanted that. Hell, he wasn't entirely sure what that meant.

A bump in the road snapped him back to the present. For a moment, he lost his bearings and he felt dizzy and sick from the motion of the wagon. He lurched to the side and gagged.

"Woah, Leon!" Uncle Kyros called out, grabbing his shoulder. "Are you alright?"

Instead of vomiting, Leon just coughed. He coughed until the nausea faded. Looking up at Uncle Kyros, who had slowed the wagon down and was watching him carefully, he began, "The old myths—"

"And here we go again," Uncle Kyros groaned. He scanned him up and down, checking to make sure he was okay. Once he deemed him suitable for travel, he turned back to face the front and started to accelerate. "I told you, boy. Nothing good comes out of knowing those stories. Western Rome fell because they held onto those false beliefs, ignoring the reality and truth of our Lord."

"But you said the myths originally came from here—"

"That's enough, boy!" Uncle Kyros barked angrily. "Enough with those silly stories."

"Who was the King God?" Leon asked.

"I said enough!" Uncle Kyros yanked the reins and pulled the wagon to a shuddering stop. He whirled around, revealing his large purple face. "Zeus, Poseidon, Hades and the rest of those miserable pagan gods don't exist! There is no palace atop Mount Olympus! I answered your questions before because I thought it would be good for bonding, but your insistence is getting to be really annoying, boy. Get it in that dull head of yours! Your mother is delusional! Your father was nothing but a scum whose only desire was to sleep with a pretty woman!"

Leon flinched.

"You know," Uncle Kyros growled. "Until today, I thought you were like my sister. I didn't know your father personally, but I can only imagine the disgusting traits he gave you. Stubborn, prideful, and assertive. Ignorant and arrogant for sure!"

Leon didn't make eye contact with him. He suddenly felt small and scared.

"Is it because you've never seen me as family? I was the one that helped raise you, not your father. Your father abandoned you when you were a child. I did my best to support you and my sister any way I could. I wasn't always there, I know. But does your mother mean nothing? Why don't you listen to her? Why do you doubt reality and indulge in your childish fantasies?"

Leon glanced up at the sky. As Kyros ranted, the air suddenly felt colder. The cloudy sky grew dark, as if a storm was coming. But the weird thing was that it was only above them. It was almost as if the sky was angry at them... and at them only.

Thunder rolled across the sky.

"You haven't once said you like me, boy," Kyros continued, ignoring the loud boom. "You haven't once said 'Thank you' to me for helping you like this. Your mother isn't in a good condition, and I've been nothing but helpful by bringing you along. I've let you explore and see the world. From Narona to Adrianople. People dream of doing such things... travelling and exploring the world. Few can actually live it, boy. Without me, how would you get back home?"

"I don't know," Leon murmured.

"Tell me, boy. Why do you keep asking about those myths? Why are you so interested in those stories?"

Leon looked up at the man. He didn't want to lie. He didn't feel it was right. But he knew what Uncle Kyros would do if he spoke the truth. He clenched his fists and prepared to defend himself.

"Because I don't believe in your god."

Kyros' eyes nearly bulged out of his head. The horses whinnied as he let go of the reins and turned his body. With a powerful strike, his fist connected with Leon's cheek, sending the boy tumbling out of the cart.

Leon cried out in pain as he landed on his elbow.

"You insolent boy!" Kyros roared. He hopped down from the wagon. "I dare you to say that one more time, boy! If you say that once more, I'll know for sure that it was you that drove my sister insane! I'll know for sure that you're a demon from the depths of Hell here to torture my family!"

Leon didn't say anything. He stared up at the man, unsure of whether he'd heard him correctly. Leon was many things. He was a troublemaker. He was prideful and liked to do things his way. He tended to listen to his feelings rather than his thoughts. But there was one thing he would never do. And that was hurt his mother.

Kyros raised his fist once more, but before he could strike, Leon's rage exploded.

"I have my mother's nose!" he yelled, saying the first thing that came to mind. And his vision filled with a blinding light.

When the light died down, he saw Kyros lying on the ground in front of him, unmoving.

The storm that seemed to be gathering above them dissipated as quickly as it had come. The sky lightened, as if suddenly pleased.

After recovering from the shock, Leon pulled himself up onto his knees. Slowly, he crawled toward Kyros' body. His voice caught in his throat as he rolled him over. There was a smoking hole in Kyros' chest where Leon guessed he'd hit his uncle.

For a while, Leon sat there on his knees. He knew exactly what happened, but part of him didn't want to accept it.

Kyros didn't move an inch. He was dead.

Leon knew he'd lost control for a moment. Staring at his own hands, he came to the horrible realization that he was a killer. He'd just murdered someone. And that someone was his own uncle.

"Uncle?" he asked meekly into the empty woods. "Uncle, are you there?"

His words were lost in the wilderness.

Surely someone would find them soon. This was a paved road. That meant people still used it. Surely someone would stumble upon them on their journey. Leon just needed someone from Thessalonica to arrive and save him.

The sun was setting when the first travellers arrived on the scene.

Leon looked up as he saw two figures on horseback slow down. The bigger of the two slid down and pulled down her hood. Leon was surprised to see that it was a woman and a young girl alone. Usually women didn't leave cities without men. It was a dangerous world out there. But the older woman approached him with a warm and concerned look.

"Did you..." Leon realized his teeth were chattering. "Did you come from Thessalonica?"

The woman eyed him, worry evident in her furrowed eyebrows. "No. Thebes. Farther south."

"Can you... can you take me to the village just upriver from Thessalonica?" He was cold. He knew it. Sitting in the pavement in the cold autumn day with barely enough clothing to cover himself was not a smart idea. "I have... I have family there..."

The woman nodded. There was a distant look in her eyes, almost as if she didn't want to stay around. But she decided to help simply because there was a young boy on the ground with a dead man next to him. At least, that's what he thought.

"Here." She pulled out a vial from her robes. The liquid inside looked like water. "Drink this. It will help you."

Leon was too tired and confused to think the lady would do any harm to him. He grabbed the vial, opened it, and drank its contents. Even though it looked like water, it didn't taste like it. It was cleaner, richer and thicker. Immediately, he felt warmth return to his body, as if he'd drunk a potion of some sort. Energy flowed in his veins.

"Mother..." the girl warned.

The woman stared at him carefully. She glanced at Kyros. "Did you do this?"

Leon froze. Why did she ask that? Was it possible that she knew? How did she know?

"Don't worry," she said soothingly. "I'm not going to execute you for parricide. I'm not Roman."

"Parricide...?" Leon didn't recognize the word.

"Is this your father?" she asked. "Or your uncle?"

For some reason, he felt it better to tell the woman. He had a feeling she already knew all the answers anyway. He swallowed nervously and muttered, "Uncle."

"Parricide means the killing of one's parents or close relatives," she explained. She turned to the girl. "Check the wagon. If there are any valuables, take them. If there are none, leave them and let other merchants find it."

"Wait, you can't take it!" Leon cried. "Those belong to my—"

"Uncle?" the woman asked. "I highly doubt he would care, considering he has a hole in his chest."

Leon clenched his fists.

"It also looks like you took a hit," she murmured as she examined his face. "Your uncle must have hit you once. Maybe twice. But no more than that. I assume you were off to visit your family in that village when an argument of some kind broke out?"

He didn't say anything. She already knew she was right. Why did she have to ask?

"I'll send you there," she decided at last. "What's your name?"

He hesitated for a moment. "Leon," he replied. "I'm eleven."

The woman nodded. "You look about that age." She turned to the girl, who was rummaging through the wagon. "My daughter, Xanthe, is ten."

Leon looked up at the mysterious woman. She had dark eyes and light skin. It was the perfect contrast to highlight how her gaze pierced through his soul. Her daughter, on the other hand, looked different. She looked like she spent her days out in the sunlight and had odd ocean-coloured eyes. He guessed she looked more like her father, just like himself.

The woman knelt over Kyros' body and grabbed something from him. He realized that it was the simple necklace his uncle wore: a wooden cross hanging from string. She stared at it for a moment before turning to Leon.

"I see..." she muttered. "Is your family Christian?"

He nodded. "Yes, they're Christian."

"Do you believe in it?"

Leon looked at her strangely. "You called Christianity 'it'. You didn't ask if I believed in the Lord."

"And you're not speaking normal Greek."

"What do you mean? Of course I'm—"

He stopped himself. What he just said didn't sound right. It almost sounded as if his pronunciation and grammar had changed.

"So you are one..." the woman mused. She touched Kyros' wound. "And this burn... It is definitely not thermal."

Leon clenched his fists again. How could this woman figure that all out? Who was she? What did she mean by him being 'one'? Were there more people like him? Were there more people who lived in the world where Christianity was false?

She said something again, this time in Latin. He didn't quite understand it. Latin was the language of the Western Empire. He hadn't heard anyone speak Latin in a long time.

"Definitely a Greek demigod, then," she muttered.

"Demi-what?"

"Xanthe!" the woman barked. "Have you not finished searching?"

They looked up to see that the girl had been staring at them. The girl had been staring at him, but when her mother shouted, she looked shocked, as if she couldn't believe that her mother had the capability of shouting loudly. Her eyes flickered back to Leon and, for a moment, he thought he smelled the ocean, though the feeling quickly passed.

The woman sighed. "Xanthe—"

"There's nothing," she replied. "Just trading goods."

"Very well then." The woman stood up. "We should go."

"Wait!" Leon finally found the strength to stand up. He stared at the woman. His curiosity tingled. "You know about that world. My... my uncle didn't tell me enough. Can you tell me more? Who... who is the King God?"

The woman studied him for a moment. She looked exasperated, as if she wanted no part of his request. But instead, she answered truthfully. "Zeus. He is the King of the Gods. The most powerful god on Olympus."

"And... he controls—"

"The sky and all that comes with it."

It all made sense. He understood why his mother had mistaken his father for her god. His father was the ruler of Olympus. He was the most powerful god of them all. The monsters that had attacked him, the ones that he'd destroyed, were attacking him because he was the son of the most important god.

"It is dangerous to stay here much longer," the woman warned. She looked up at the trees. "The beasts are on their way. I'll bring you to a safe haven, Leon. A place where demigods are protected from such creatures."

"No!" he blurted out. "I want to go back home. I need to see my mother."

She turned back to him with eyes full of curiosity and concern. "Are you sure? It is dangerous for a demigod to be alone. From what I can gather, your village doesn't take too kindly to other faiths." Her eyes flickered to Kyros' body. "You would need to protect yourself against monsters."

"I've been doing that for years," Leon argued. "I've been killing them with my mother's bronze dagger."

She could have easily made a counterpoint and urged him to go to safety. Of course, staying safe sounded like a good idea. But he didn't want to abandon his mother. Not after what he did to Kyros. If he left like this, his mother would surely go insane.

The woman didn't want any trouble.

"Very well. I'll bring you to your village."

She gestured to the horse.

She climbed on first, her daughter second, and him last. He swallowed nervously as he wrapped his arms around Xanthe to grab her mother's sides. He was surprised at how fit they both felt. The woman had very little fat around her waist; he felt like he was grasping onto a block of stone. As well, the girl, Xanthe, had a sturdy back. As he leaned closer so he wouldn't fall off, he could feel her back pushing against him, as if repelling him.

As they rode down the path, he smelled the ocean again.

"Are we going to the camp afterward, Mother?" Xanthe asked.

"Yes, dear."

"Why do I have to go?"

"It's for your own safety."

"But what about Florian?"

"He won't be back for a while. Don't worry."

Leon felt bad for intruding on their conversation. He figured it was a personal matter, and even though he likely wouldn't ever see them again, it didn't feel right to listen in on their little talk.

"I still can't really believe this," Xanthe muttered.

"It is hard at first," her mother agreed. The woman kept the horse at a steady gallop. "Even more difficult when you are a mortal thrust into the midst of a war."

There was silence for a while as the conversation died off.

Leon watched the trees thin out as they neared the hills. Near the river there were fewer trees. He wasn't sure why, but it didn't make it easier to travel along the terrain. The river was in the center of two rocky hills, meaning the only way to ride away from the river was a climb the rocky hillside. The road passed along the top of the hill, giving them a good view of the river below.

"So you're a son of Zeus?" Xanthe asked suddenly. She hadn't turned her head, so at first, he wondered if she was talking to him. But he quickly realized that he was the only boy. It was obviously meant for him.

He nodded, not that she could see. "Yeah... I guess."

"I'm a daughter of Neptune... or Poseidon." The girl turned her head slightly, facing straight forward at her mother's back. "Which one is it again, Mother?"

"Poseidon," she responded.

"Who's Neptune?" Leon asked.

"Poseidon's Roman form," the girl answered. "Don't worry. I don't know what that means either."

"Aren't we Roman?" he frowned.

"Yes and no," Xanthe said. "We're Roman in that we live here in the Eastern Roman Empire. But as demigods we're actually Greek... the original form of the gods. We actually live in what used to be Greek territory."

"I don't know much about history," he said, with a chuckle.

"Neither do I," she laughed. "I'm just repeating what Mother told me."

"So there are two forms of the gods? Greek and Roman? We're children of the Greek gods... because we were born in Achaea?"

"Is that right, Mother?"

"No, not quite," her mother replied. The surroundings were beginning to feel more and more familiar. "Like I said, Xanthe. There are two forms of the gods: Greek and Roman. When they are in Greek form, they make babies like you two. When they are in Roman form, they make babies not like you two."

"What's the difference?" Leon asked. He was getting confused with all of this Greek and Roman stuff.

"There's a certain aura that only those who have seen both can detect," she explained. "It's very difficult to distinguish, but it is possible. Roman demigods tend to be few and far between. The majority of them are legacies, like your brother, Xanthe. By the way, Leon, the term 'legacy' refers to a descendant of a demigod rather than demigods themselves. The Romans under the old legions are far more strict and righteous. Greek demigods are more chaotic. They're left to their own devices, typically. Typically Roman demigods and legacies are claimed at birth. If they are Roman, they know they are Roman. Unless the parents purposely hide that fact. Xanthe... your brother, for instance, didn't know because I hid it from him. At least, until I let him roam free and let his curiosity got the better of him. His father swore that he would come back to take him to the legion. When he didn't return, I chose not to reveal the fact to Florian. Greek demigods, on the other hand, are not given such liberties. They must find out for themselves... whether the family knows and decides to tell them or not. I could not tell you of such a fate. It is why I have protected you for so long."

"Brother...?" Leon asked.

"Half-brother," Xanthe answered. "But why did it sound like he didn't know he was a descendant of Mars?"

"His father never came back," her mother replied sadly. "Instead, two of the legion's representatives came. I was angry. I killed them both. Florian was but a toddler when I left him in the care of an old friend and fled to the sorceress' island. I left the dreadful place and came back when he was seven. We reconciled, but I told him that he couldn't search for his father... search for the legion. I forbade him, and he likely resented me for that. Him joining the army was his way of betraying me, but I could not stop him. After all, I had to take care of you, Xanthe."

"You fell for another man," Leon said.

"Poseidon and I didn't love each other," she said. Her voice hardened. "I knew it was him... we were both in foul moods and... Xanthe was just the result of pent up anger and frustration. But Poseidon was kind enough to offer aid... He gave me all the information and resources I needed to help protect Xanthe. In return, I cherished our child and promised to raise her as a true child of the Sea God." She laughed humourlessly. "I've failed at that."

He could feel Xanthe's shoulders droop. She must have been disappointed. He felt guilty listening to their story and not telling his own. He raised his head and said, "I've lived my life as a liar."

Xanthe craned her neck to watch him out of the corner of her eye.

"My village is a Christian one, but for some reason, I never really believed in it. I've always had this strange ability to see things the other villagers couldn't, including my mother. I'm not sure why, but I just thought I was just cursed. Now, learning all of this, everything makes so much sense. But I've always felt like something was missing."

"Are you sure you want to continue on to your village?" Xanthe's mother asked once again. "It sounds like you don't belong there."

"Yes, I need to see my mother," he insisted. "I can't leave her like this."

The woman sighed.

They stopped at the outskirts of the village. Leon slipped off the horse.

"Stay safe," Xanthe said with a wave.

He smiled at the girl. She was cute. "You too. Good luck."

She nodded.

When he turned back to face his home, he heard the sound of the horse whinnying and Xanthe exclaiming "The horse said a bad word!"

Could children of Poseidon talk to horses? He shook his head to help him focus. That was something to be researched later. Right now, he had to get to his mother. He needed to atone for the grave sin he'd committed.

"Leon!" one of the elder workers cried out. "Is that you? What are you doing there?" He winced and grabbed his back in pain.

Leon ran over to him. "Elder! Are you all right?"

"Just a little pain," the elder grimaced. He looked toward the town center... toward Leon's house. "Your mother... she said you'd be back today. She said that you would return home today, that she saw it in a dream. How did she...?"

A dream? Were the gods sending her visions of what happened? Did she already know about Kyros?

"Where's Mother?" Leon asked.

"At home," he replied.

He didn't wait for another word. Taking off as fast as he could, he sprinted back home. Stunned and shocked faces stared at him as a raced past, pointing and muttering about how his mother had been right. As he arrived at the door to their home, he heard his mother's voice cry out: "He's here!"

Leon opened the door.

Sitting on the floor, staring at the door with a cloth pressed to her forehead, was his mother. She looked like she'd just recovered from some sort of sickness. Her bright smile lit up the room.

"My boy!" she cried out. "Did you and Kyros return?"

At the mention of his uncle's name, his face fell. What dream did she have that predicted that he would return him with Kyros? What kind of twisted message did she see?

"Oh... oh, no." His mother stood up and embraced him in a tight hug. "Don't tell me you were raided by bandits. Did Uncle Kyros... did he die?"

He didn't answer.

"Oh, no." He could feel her eyes forming tears. "My poor brother. After everything he did, he sacrificed his life to save you. Oh, Lord. You have truly blessed us today. You have let my son live. You have made my brother a saviour. Thank the Lord."

Ah... That's right, he thought. She's Christian. Perhaps she was better off ignorant. Maybe it was good she saw that twisted message. Then she would never know the truth. She would never have to learn the darkest of all possibilities.

She would never have to know that her son was a murderer.

I'm a little surprised that people have come back from the old days to read this. Sure, I'm still here after all these years and willing to upload, but it really feels like people have moved on since the heyday of PJO Fanfiction, especially since the whole series is over and the original readers are all adults now (the first PJO book came out in 2005! and HOO in 2010!). This one story I started in 2016, Breaking Point, had like 200 followers within four chapters release over the span of like two or three weeks. It really was insane. Anyway, I'm glad to see there's still a few of you left from way back when. I don't update nearly as much as I used to, and I even had a hard time getting this chapter ready.

At times, when I re-read what I've written to edit, I find it difficult to detach myself from some of the characters I've created. I hope I establish them well enough that you all develop your own opinions on these characters and hopefully I develop them enough in this story that they matter to you by the end of it.

So far, I've revealed Xanthe and Leon. A daughter of Poseidon and a son of Zeus. I'll give you a hint. There's one more Greek character to introduce. I bet you know what's coming.

In any case, as a warning beforehand, as large chunks of this plot was written about a year and a half ago, and I've tried and failed to make other stories in between, there will be some mashing up of ideas and characters and themes over that time span. Sometimes, there will be characters or ideas that are thrown in there that might not make sense. I'm here to tell you that... that's the point. Because that idea, plot point or character has a whole backstory in my mind that isn't necessary to the plot of this story.

Anyway, enough rambling! Thanks for reading. I'm not really back for any attention. I just hate looking at the folder of like 20 trashed story-ideas over the past three years and hope this suits your tastes.

All the best,
Sharky