A/N at the end. Enjoy. T.I.

Chapter VIII

Percy never had much interest in reading. Maybe school had something to do with it. Maybe it was his ADHD and dyslexia. In any case, the act of putting letters into words, into sentences, into a coherent idea wasn't a past time Percy would sink his time into.

And yet, there stood a girl, who not even a half-day ago was still an almost complete stranger to him, telling him about his being a demi-god? Was he about to faint again? That seemed to be happening quite frequently lately.

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and calmed himself. Inhaling and exhaling a few deep breaths before he opened his eyes, their strong emerald color reflecting in the shallow light.

"Okay, Reyna. Say I bite," Percy started, his voice calm, but she felt like the even tone was only hanging by a thread, ready to fall and disappear at any moment.

"How can I be the son of a god? And what god? As far as I know there are many gods. Viking gods, Persian gods, Greek gods, pop-singers-with-too-many-fans-for-some-reason gods. You see my point." He began swaying and gesturing with his hands with every mention of a pantheon, which Reyna found rather comical.

"Look Percy, it's getting late, and the sea washed your scent for a while, so you can go home without my escort. Just watch out for any strange movements. Remember: everything wants you dead. You are a trophy and a sign of status for monstra and their masters. You need to stay alive." Reyna explained rapidly.

To Percy, it felt like she was a broken record. Always going off and adding more and more questions to his ever-growing, over-consuming conundrum of his life ever since he turned sixteen.

"I can't just leave without knowing anything. And how will you get home with a sword like that? Anyone sees you and reports to the police and you're done." He countered.

"Oh, don't worry about my sword, I can handle it just fine." Had Percy not experienced several strange and world-bending events in the past couple of days, he might have thought he was in a dream again.

As Reyna finished her sentence she threw the sword in the air, making do flips as if she was a circus performer juggling blades. But then, just as the tip of the sword was about to scratch her skull and leave a no doubt serious wound, it began shrinking.

Smaller and smaller, to almost a miniature level, until it turned into a coin the size of an okay sign that divers use to sign each other. The coin fell with a faint ringing noise inside of her palm, and she pocketed it in her pajama shorts.

In the short amount of time that the coin was barely visible in the low light, Percy caught a glimpse of a face and letters around it, but not enough for him to see what it said and whose face was minted on the coin.

The thing he could feel though, was his mouth slightly agape at what had just occurred in front of his eyes. This was no magic trick or slight-of-hand. This was beyond explaining. Then again. What happened to him tonight was also beyond explaining.

"Don't worry. You'll learn all you need tomorrow, for now." Reyna gave a slight smile and a nod, turned and started walking back from whence she came. Waving goodbye at Percy. As he stared at her silhouette fading into the darkness, he felt the cold breeze chill his damp body. Shivering slightly, Percy decided to head home as quickly as he could. Breaking into a maddening sprint that lasted all but until he entered his door, drenched with sweat, sea water, and sand, breathing heavily with exhaustion. He took a quick shower, fell on his bed, and fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

The lone man standing in what looked like the set of a fantasy movie signaled Percy that he was indeed dreaming. Again. Great.

It wouldn't be so bad, Percy thought, if where he stood seemed like and actual city, and not a crumbling, burning, smoking pile of ruins he saw before him. The city sprawled as far as Percy could see, but the state it was in didn't allow him to place himself in any known area. Then again, as he looked around he realized that even if the city was in perfect shape he probably wouldn't know where he was. So was the nature of his dreams. Always chaotic. Always confusing. Just like his life recently.

The man, Percy now noticed, donned a helmet and armor. But not like the ones he saw in his previous dreams. Though less opulent and impressive, it seemed to be as very bit functional, maybe even more so. The black material was worn, yet well maintained. It was obvious that it had seen use often. The helmet hugged and protected his face, while the armor itself was made of a chest piece, vambraces, and leg arms. Protecting his nether were a bunch of corded leather strips, for allowing freedom of movement and agility in battle, leaving his arms and legs free to move as the man wished. And if anything beside the well-muscled and his spear and round shield he was holding in his hands was any account, he was clearly a skilled warrior.

Percy never saw one of these armors before, but the use and knowledge about the use of every part somehow popped inside of his head, if only for a fleeting couple of second. He felt like he should know the man, but he knew he never saw him before no matter what his instincts told him.

As Percy slowly approached he noticed, as usual, that the man didn't seem like he could see or hear him. As he came closer, he noticed another thing about the mysterious man. Dripping slowly from his face and into the black and scorched ground, were tears.

As the man continued to limp across towards him, passing through his incorporeal form, Percy drew his attention to his plentiful injuries ranging from light bruises to what seemed like a deep gash from a strike that managed to cut through the tough armor and slash at his abdomen. As he walked, the man began to chant something.

The language was like nothing Percy ever heard before, long vowels and misplaced consonants made no sense in his brain, and yet he knew that the man was praying for something, or someone, as he continued his long track behind Percy.

Turning around, he continued to watch the mysterious warrior, taking heaving step by heaving step to continue his advance, all the while chanting the same phrase over and over. Percy felt as if he should know what the man was saying. It had some resonance with him that couldn't be explained with words alone.

On and on the man chanted, walking through the ruins of the city, preaching his phrase over and over. And then another voice echoed in the distance. Percy didn't know why, but he knew that the echo wasn't made from nearby. Not from the city, not from the country this warrior came from, it was a voice from far away. And he knew that voice. Felt something familiar about it. It was the same voice that told him to run and hide when the weird creature attacked him on the beach.

This time though, the voice held strength. Such overwhelming presence that it made Percy, even in his ghostly form, feel to the depth of his heart. The warrior seemed to have the same reaction as Percy, as if he wasn't anticipating any answer. The echo as if returning his strength, made the warrior stand up taller, head slightly higher, gait less pronounced. It was as if the voice itself was fixing whatever ailed him, and he began to walk faster. Percy followed.

Next thing that Percy knew, he was at the shore of great sea. The man gave a final chant, repeated to him by the echo, and then ceased. The warrior now set aside his spear and shield and looked around, as did Percy.

Around him he could see tens, maybe even hundreds of ships. Some destroyed, and some still in sailing condition. standing sporadically on the beach were what seemed like more warriors akin to the one Percy saw first. Equipped with weapons and armor as well.

The mysterious warrior, now seeming to have healed from his injuries, turned around and faced the men, speaking again in the language Percy had no way to understand. Emotions ran through their eyes: fear, sadness, anger, desperation, but most of all, however small, was hope as well. Hope that Percy knew the warrior inspired with his words. As his final words were greeted by approving shouts of the men and the raising of spears towards the sky, the warrior began boarding a large vessel that seemed large enough to carry a company into the sea, his man following him, and set sail towards the horizon, and towards new shores.

As Percy remained on the shore and gazed at the boat leave, he knew he too was inspired by the man's words. Not even knowing their meaning, they awoke a hunger within him to be the best he could, for himself and for his future self. To become something truly special. A myth even. The feeling filled him as the ship disappeared on the horizon.

Percy couldn't remember the last time that his dreams had been pleasant, if you could call his latest dreams that. But as he awoke the next morning, staring at the tattooed trident on his arm, Percy knew that it all had to mean something. If not for his current situation, then to his future. And if Reyna said yesterday was true and real, then he had no choice but to take it seriously. Not only for himself, but for Reyna, and all those like them that're experiencing trouble and danger. Grasping his head into a fist, Percy nodded to himself.

Even with all the pep talk and somewhat encouraging dream, Percy still couldn't focus on math. Numbers just weren't his thing. As he sat in class he stifled a sigh into his arm, hoping that his torture would soon end.

As if on que, the door opened and in came Mark, who whispered a few words into his math teacher's ear, who looked back at Mark skeptical, yet waved his hand in a dismissive approval. Mark looked to Percy, waved with his head towards the exit, and left the classroom, as if motioning him to join. Never the one to leave such a rare opportunity, Percy quickly packed his things and left the classroom, heading towards mark who was waiting in the hallway.

"Ah, Percy. I'm glad you could join me." Mark said with a knowing half-smirk on his face, his spectacles moving upwards if only a little.

"I'm glad as well, always happy to not be in math," He paused, staring at his teacher. "about last time, I'm sorry I ran out suddenly, I don't know what came over me. Oh and by the way that tattoo you might have seen in that occurrence, totally not real, nor even a bit." He laughed nervously as he averted his look.

"Right. Of course." Mark replied.

"So, what do you need with me, your loyal Latin student?" He tried to lighted the mood.

Mark stared at him for a couple of seconds, as if testing him.

"What I need from you, dear pupil, is to meet me and Reyna at the gym. Every day after school, not negotiable. I've already cleared things with Ms. Nancy."

Okay. Forget Latin, this was definitely the weirdest thing Percy ever heard someone utter out loud.

"Why would you need me and Reyna at the gym after school every day? Are we putting on a play in Latin as a final project I had no idea about now that we're two students?" He tried to conceal his surely hastened breathing at his teacher's mention of Reyna. Best not connect the two of them for now. Who knew what Mark might think.

"Because after the whole debacle that went on yesterday I realized I was too slow in my undertaking, and however weak they are right now I know that the gods are not happy with the situation."

Wait. What?

"You are to be trained properly in the ways of combat, arts, philosophy, the ones who came before, and of course, as I saw you had a knack for it, Greek. I will make you my greatest disciple yet." Percy could barely breath. No way. This was all wrong.

"Time for you to start shaping up properly, discipule."

This couldn't be happening.

Hey guys and girls, it an on-time Taurus here, wishing you all a happy update.

We reached over one hundred story followers and I'm honestly shocked.
The reviews and support of my story always make me smile and push on to write at the level I know I can, so thank you.
See you on the next one,

T.I.