AN: Before we go into this, please read the bottom AN, for any questions concerning the matter of Adamant, alright?
Chapter XXVI
It wasn't unusual for a demigod to have dreams that were actually visions. But I wasn't sure that term was fit to describe what I experienced next, neither did it seem like a dream or a vision, much more like a memory, or rather fragments of one.
Wild, disorganized thoughts and images flashed through my mind. Of tyranny and cruelty, as I watched the Elder Cyclopes and Hekhathonkheires being bound and thrown into the pit. Of the hatred and anger I felt at the god who did so, of the desire for vengeance I felt towards him.
Then the scene shifted, a woman, a goddess talking to her children, to me, calling them to action, to topple him and for someone else to take his throne. The burning ambition within me, the lust for power as I gladly accepted her proposal and took the weapon she offered, the very same one resting in my hands both now in my mind and reality, even if it bore the even more ancient form of a sickle.
Again new images filled my vision, an ambush being laid, a trap for the tyrant. Then springing into action, grappling the god, emasculating him and then hacking him apart. It was truly a gruesome scene, one that should have made me feel sick, no matter how much of a tyrant Ouranous was. But there was none of that, only glee and triumph being felt by me as I brought the adamant blade down again and again.
These were Kronos' memories. There was no doubt that, even without having ever seen them, I easily recognized Gaea and Ouranos. These were his thoughts as well, his emotions, the hate, the eagerness, the triumph, all were his, but all paled to the feeling of power that came as I, or rather Kronos, brought down the Scythe for the final strike and Ouranous turned to dust, fading out of the physical world.
Drunk on power had always seemed like a silly expression to me, but that was precisely how I felt and it swept aside all else. The images faded, the other emotions were drowned out, it was exhilarating, I felt as if truly I was the ruler of the cosmos, unopposed, unstoppable, as if I could topple any god.
Then my senses suddenly returned like a punch in the gut as I was pulled back to reality. Pain coursed through my body, together with a feverish, nauseating heat, one I wasn't all too unfamiliar with. Overindulging in Ambrosia or Nectar could bring a similar feeling, raw divine power burning your mortal body to ash.
My vision was spinning, spots dancing in it and my ears were ringing. The metallic taste and smell of blood filled my mouth and nose as I took weak breaths, this wasn't good at all. Only one thing I felt gave me some sliver of hope, the grip of the Scythe, still in my right hand.
Still I heard Bianca scream, realizing that not a moment had passed while I was out. But it wasn't a scream of pain, being much more violent and powerful, more of a shout, a call. And the earth seemed to echo it, a deep single tremor coursing through the ground, followed by the sound of rock splitting apart, sliding and falling from above.
When I looked up I thought for a moment the whole ceiling was coming down as it started to crumble across the Cyclops. Black volcanic rock started raining down, from the size of hailstones to that of small ships, burying the Cyclops accompanied by a deafening orchestra of crashing sounds. The earth shook and trembled under the continuous impacts of this bombardment, dust being whirled up all around the cavern.
For a few terrifying seconds I thought the whole cave was collapsing, but then it finally settled down and everything was quiet. The only thing I could hear was my own breathing and the pumping of blood in my ears. Still I couldn't help but grin at the show of chthonic powers, gods, I knew Bianca was powerful, but this? Could she truly have crushed an elder Cyclops?
One way or another it did wonders to shake me out of my pain-filled stupor.
Desperately I tightened my grip on the Scythe as I pulled it to me, and instantly the heat and pain flared up, for a moment my vision turned white as I grit my teeth, fighting the loss of consciousness. Stumbling on the border of consciousness, I couldn't do anything but try to endure as the unbearable heat of the searing hot metal burned into my hand.
Trying to move my left arm I was surprised I was actually able to, it hurt like Hades, but finally I managed to drag it over to the Scythe and painfully clutched onto the grip. A torturous throbbing suddenly pounded inside my head, and as the heat flared up, I screamed, or much more whimpered honestly.
Again I felt as if I was about to slip into unconsciousness. For a few seconds, there was nothing but pain, my mind utterly dominated by it. Then, suddenly the pain was drowned out for a moment, the heat died down, my mind and senses clearing, a surge of energy similar to when I was in water, but a lot more violent, unnatural even, but in that moment I was desperate enough to accept anything.
I pushed myself up along the shaft of the Scythe, straightening myself and taking a deep breath as I looked around. One of the massive rocks was hurled aside, and I groaned, partially from pain, but mostly from annoyance. For a moment I had hoped she had given him the same treatment Thorn had received, crushing him. Clearly however, this was not the case, meaning we still had a massive problem on our hands.
"Theseus!" I heard Bianca's surprised voice, and I searched for its origin.
Bianca was running, or much more stumbling towards me, she looked pale and shaky, which was no surprise. I had plenty of experience with earthquakes and they were incredibly taxing. Not to mention that Bianca was younger than me and far less experienced with them, this was truly a massive one, making it all the more impressive she was still standing, yet alone running.
I took a hasty step forward, and instantly grew shaky again. As apparent, my body wasn't over the stress yet, but I didn't have time to wait on it as I pushed myself on. I broke into a desperate sprint towards Bianca, yet there were still a good three hundred feet or so in-between us.
Suddenly, a booming roar once more shook the cave, and I froze in my tracks, as I turned to look at the rocky grave under which Brontes had been buried. I doubted it would be more than seconds before he freed himself, we had to get out of here, no matter how.
"Thee!" Bianca called again, shaking me out of my stunned state and I moved on towards her.
Only a few paces were left now, as I hastened myself further, sharp painful breaths started shaking my chest as I closed in on her. Finally I skid to a halt, stumbling forwards, Bianca catching me and steadying me.
"Thanks," I croaked out and she nodded.
"You are alive," She said with relief as well as surprise and I smirked, despite how bad I felt.
"I am not sure I would go that far," I said, coughing as I straightened. "but I am definitely not dead."
"Alive, or even undead, I am getting you two out of here," Bianca said and worry came over me.
"Eleanor," I realized with anguish. "Is she-"
"Unconscious, but she's still breathing. I gave her what I had in nectar, she should pull through," Bianca said, and I gave a sigh of relief before she continued. "But we need to get out of here."
"Agreed, th-" I started, before Bianca suddenly pulled me behind a nearby massive anvil, pressing herself against the bronze surface with terror.
I was confused for a moment, then, a massive crashing sound as a gargantuan chunk of black rock tore through the ground where we had just stood. A truly ancient curse in the old tongue escaped my mouth, bad enough to be untranslatable into English and yet it felt utterly justified as I looked at what was happening.
Brontes had hurled one of the massive rocks that had crashed down on him at us. He looked battered and worn, but the sheer force of that throw showed that he was very much still able to crush all of us.
I glanced around the anvil to the left, and searched for Eleanor, spotting her crumpled form, but she was far too far away for us to reach.
One move out of cover and we'd be crushed. I frowned, we were totally pinned down, effectively facing a living, breathing, intelligent artillery gun.
Another crashing sound shook us as something shattered against the anvil, vibrating the whole ground around us. Hate and anger filled again me as I looked at the Cyclops, coming back from before he had smashed me against that anvil.
"Why are you drawing this out?" Brontes roared, tauntingly, his voice booming above us. "It's only you two left, there is no point in further futile heroics, you'll die all the same."
"You know," Bianca said, somehow smiling despite the situation. "I hate opponents making reasonable points."
"I do as well," I said and managed another smirk in return as a desperate plan formed in my mind. "but he is wrong, heroics are exactly what is going to get you out of here."
"What do you mean by you?" Bianca asked and I looked up at the ceiling. "You aren't planning some stupid self-sacrifice, are you?"
"Oh, I am planning something alright," I said, my eyes focusing on the part where Bianca had torn out the rocks.
Even down here I felt how little rock there still was between this cavern and the Ocean there, a few feet at the thinnest point, and there were already dozens of cracks and crannies in it. I felt the water flowing through them, a few drops making their way into the cave.
It wasn't much, but water always found a way and if there was none, it made one. And once it starts properly flowing, few things could stop it, water eventually broke anything once it moved.
"It just is no sacrifice," I said and grinned. "let's just say it's a rearguard action, shall we?"
"You want me to get Eleanor out of here, don't you?" She asked, realization in her eyes. "While you stay behind and-"
"Hopefully reunite this fool with his father and brothers." I finished for her and she shook her head.
"Absolutely not," Bianca said, firmly. "I can get all three of us out of here. I am not losing yo-"
Another rock crashed against the anvil, pushing it forward slightly, and I shook my head as I looked at her. Even if we somehow managed to get all of us together, Bianca didn't look like she was in any state to shadow travel three people, let alone get us anywhere safe, at least not without dying herself.
"I do have a plan, but it certainly does not involve dying, at least not me dying," I insisted, pleadingly, taking a deep breath. "please, just get her and yourself out of here, I am going to go out there, and cover your retreat."
Bianca muttered something under her breath, which didn't sound all too pleased. Her dark eyes seemed to be as dark as the pitch black shadows we stood in as she looked at me, filled with disapproval, and shook her head.
"If you die in this, I am dragging your shade out of Elysium, just so I can do it myself for doing this, understood?" She said and poked my chest, to which I only smiled.
"I am expecting it," I said and inhaled once more. "Now go, through the shadows, stay in cover, I'll go out there and entertain our big friend, but before that..."
Looking at the scythe in my hand, I thought back to my dream in Morpheus' cave. It had been an illusion, but in it I had wielded the Scythe in the shape of a sword, and in my memory in the form of a sickle. Could I perhaps...
With a triumphant grin I watched it changed shape and form in the blink of an eye. The weight and balance shifted, taking a much more suitable form, that of a sword.
Though its gray steely glinting appearance still made me shiver, there was a reassuring familiarity to its shape. It was longer than my old sword, clearly a two-handed weapon, but it was no less well-balanced, feeling just as perfect, yet far lighter, as I looked down at the blade, my grin broadened.
"Well then," I said and turned to Bianca one last time. "time to see if this blade can really cut down immortals never to rise again."
This time I left no time for protests as I moved out of cover. Seeing the gleeful expression of the Cyclops, which looked quite terrifying with his Ichor dripping eye and wounded body, I wasn't sure that this really was a good idea.
But there was no time left for thinking as another rock came flying towards me with lethal speed and precision, and I threw myself to the side. Rationally I should have been dead, then and there. But I felt the weightless, formless feeling return to me and grinned, but something was different this time, it was no mere instinct.
I completely felt, understood, as it happened, my body de-solidifying, the rock coursing through me, me moving forward, nothing but a cloud of mist, moving like the wind itself, yet still me, before re-solidifying a few dozen yards closer to the Cyclops.
A deep insight like, inherent understanding snapped into me, I was utterly in control of it, but yet it became as thoughtless as swimming or walking within the blink of an eye.
The thrilling song-like feeling of power in me heightened as I advanced further. Another tank-sized volcanic rock came towards me, yet I simply sped up, bursting towards the Cyclops without slowing.
Harmlessly the rock buried itself into the earth behind me and I grinned, as I continued my movement, closing in on the Cyclops.
I spared a glance to the left, but couldn't spot Bianca, which I found somewhat reassuring.
But quickly had to refocus my attention as the Cyclops came lumbering towards me, clearly he had realized that his rock-throwing was not the way to go in this fight anymore. Instead he opted for his bare hands, which I found worrying, I would have preferred facing his hammer.
With a hammer I would merely have to get into his reach and he would be near defenseless to my attacks. But his hands were far faster, and far more agile as well. Mist-form and Scythe or not, if he actually caught me with those, or landed a proper hit, I wasn't sure I'd rise again.
Still, I had to keep him busy until I was sure Bianca and Eleanor were safe, which meant I couldn't leave him time to think or notice them.
Relentlessly I pushed forward, once more letting my wrath and instincts take over. But this was no mad frenzy like before, I wanted little more than to hack him apart like his father had been, but it was a far more cold hate this time, a desire for retribution and to destroy him.
I didn't slow as I sped past him, dragging the blade along his leg, Ichor spraying onto my shoulder plate, before fading again and reappearing sixty feet behind him.
"Aaaaaaargh" The Cyclops bellowed in pain, louder than ever before as he whirled to me, mad anger spelled on his face.
"What's the matter?" I mocked him, eager to draw his attention. "I thought the Scythe still needed a final cooling? I thought a dedicated craftsman like you would've wanted it to be finished?"
"You insolent, mortal wretch," Brontes roared. "I'll break you apart and tear that blade from your unworthy hands."
"I don't know about unworthy," I said as I moved back, before continuing my taunts. "The way I see it, Kronos is still as dead as you'll be soon, and I am his grandson, as he likes to remind me, I'll just see it as an overdue inheritance, shall I?
Brontes roared and if there ever was any doubt he was a thunder deity, it was wiped away now. A massive continuous shockwave burst through the cave, and despite my new found strength, I couldn't do anything but sink down, pressing a hand down calling on my powers to anchor myself to the ground. Still I was driven back, stumbling, falling to my back.
The whole cave quaked, it was stronger than any tremor before, more powerful than what Bianca had called down upon him. Magma sprayed from the canals, anvils were thrown over, furnaces crumbled. I felt cracks forming all around, widening ever further as the Cyclops charged towards me, his hammer once more in his hands.
Disoriented I started a desperate attempt at retreating, once more I felt myself fade into mist, but only made it fifteen feet or so, before I stumbled into a tangible form again, my mind felt barely able to walk, yet alone move like that.
My ears rung, deafened by the massive, thundering boom, and I was unable to form any cohesive thought. I heard the Cyclops approaching behind, and froze in terror as I turned towards him.
A single step of his and he had already covered a third of the distance, a few more seconds, and I would be done for.
But then something else caught my attention, with my other senses in disarray, one thing shone through, the every second heightening flow of water above, dripping down the ceiling.
For a split-second, I remembered what I had quoted, and Moltke was right, no plan survives first contact with the enemy. But another quote of planning came to me, a good plan, violently executed now is better than a perfect one next week, Patton had said. I wasn't sure my plan was good, but sure hoped to compensate with a very violent execution.
As he came towards me I didn't turn and run, instead I swiftly lifted the Scythe in a familiar motion. Gripping the hilt with both hands, ignoring the pain in my left arm, I drove it downwards with a brutal roar of my own. The adamant cut through stone without hindrance, sinking deep as I unleashed all I had.
Once more the cave trembled, magma pouring faster and faster from the walls, the ground breaking, splitting apart as earth shifted and cracked.
Massive rifts swallowed anvils and everything else that fell into them and all chaos broke loose. But I was not done yet, even as the Cyclops stopped in his charge for a moment, shaken himself. Reaching out my mind grasped onto the Ocean above us and I pulled it all towards me, the burning heat returned into my body, I was trembling, but didn't stop, only doubling my efforts.
The cracks above burst as more and more water was forced through them, and then finally the first part of the ceiling shattered above. And once that happened there was no stopping what I had started, the sea broke into cavern. So much force and weight came bearing down, the rest of the rock above was torn apart like paper.
Flooding everything, the sea picked up rocks the size of small houses and crushed and bend massive celestial bronze tools like hollow tin cans. The whole might of the thousands of tons of ocean now pouring in was not stoppable for anyone short of my father or Oceanus.
As glorious and terrifying at once the chaos around me was, I knew it was just as dangerous for me as for him.
Using the sea to propel me, I shot away as a piece of sea floor, the size of a small island came down where I had stood. For a few seconds I did nothing but wildly dodge and move away as rocks rained and hailed down, weaving past them as dust was whirled up, and I felt the water turn murky.
Despite the imminent danger, I only felt the power and thrill in me heighten as the sea embraced me, my vision brightened, sharpened. I felt what wounds my body still had closing as my strength multiplied, all the shaking and trembling washed away. I grinned like a madman as everything below me was turned to rubble.
I was raised in these depths and had longed to be in them once more. Oceanus might have seized control over them and was fighting my father, but right now, the only one in charge in this part of the sea right now was me, this was my domain and I would show that to this wretched Cyclops.
"I have to commend you for your craftsmanship." I called, not able to resist the taunting, my voice carried by the swirling waters as I watched him push away a massive rock to his side. "But once again I must assure you, this is no real loss, my dearest grandfather would have gotten rid of you soon enough anyways, what's a few years to an immortal anyways?"
Brontes shot up from the depths, turning up dust and rocks and I smirked at his clear anger. He might be a deity and Cyclops at that, he was immune to the pressures of the sea and could breath here without problems, but he was not of the sea, I was.
He was fast despite the water around, I had to give him that, but here, he was even less of a match for my overwhelming speed.
I truly became one with the sea, feeling myself dissipate into it. It felt different than on dry land, slower, more focused, water still had true substance, I had no bones to break and no body to hit, but water was heavy, slow, compared to the mist.
It didn't matter however, the Cyclops stood no chance, battered and worn down already, as I burst out of solid shape to his side, cutting a deep gash along his elbow, before once more fading.
Another strike to the thigh followed, his enormous stature only hindrance in the sea, where I could move without constraint.
He fought savagely, no longer with a sense of invulnerability and total superiority, twisting and turning, trying to grab me, hit me, kick me away. A few times he came close, and the sheer force behind them, sent me back, but he was not fast enough. With every injury he sustained, he grew more angry and desperate in his attempts to fight me off.
But I didn't relent, like a shark with literal blood in the water, I shot forth once more, moving in for the kill this time. Again I let myself fade into the water, moving to his side, the Cyclops moved to face where he expected me to appear, clearly able to, if not see, sense my movements somewhat still.
Yet I did not reappear where he expected it, instead simply remaining formless. I felt my body yearning to return to its proper form, straining itself, as I was stretched further and further. I hadn't been sure if I could even do this, and now I was wondering if I could die like this, unable to pull myself back together and simply becoming one with the sea.
Though as an opportunity presented itself, I was ripped from my thoughts, Brontes turned, looking around for me. Then,without hesitation I struck, he turned back as he sensed my reforming, but he was too slow. I already stabbed downwards, towards his neck.
The adamant cut through windpipe and veins alike, and Brontes gave a pain-filled, pathetic croaking sound as I twisted my sword out, tearing back, cutting into his spine in the same motion. Ichor spewed and I moved away as his hand futilely came up to clutch the wound.
Again I moved in, for a moment considered going for the eye, but decided that was too much in Oddysian fashion, instead I brought the blade down from above, burying it in his forehead, splitting it open as he gave an anguished, choking wail of pain.
No wisdom goddess sprung out, as I pulled the Scythe back and felt the giant crumple down. Unrelenting I drove the Scythe deeper into him once more, only stopping when I felt him starting turning to fine, golden dust around me as the sea swallowed what remained of him.
Suddenly the intense heat overcame me once more and I buckled forward, as if to vomit. I was breathing heavily, and at once the driving feeling of power faded, turning to a mere faint humming in the back of my mind.
Even the sea around felt suffocating to me in that moment, the one place that gave me security and strength. I knew that was impossible, but the panicked pounding of my heart, overwrote everything else in my mind. The only thing I heard was blood pumping as I pushed upward, anywhere, just away, I thought.
But even as I burst higher, making my way out of the depths at record time, the panic didn't die down, not even the sight of sunlight as I reached the upper levels did anything to calm me. Hyperventilating I shot to the surface, breathing in, trying to calm my body.
Desperately I looked around, blinded by the light, there was nothing here, no threat insight, yet I still didn't calm, my heart was racing and the only thing I heard still was the blood pumping in my ears. Then suddenly I heard something else, a voice calling to me.
"Are you alright?" A soothing female voice asked, and I looked around, as she continued chuckling. "Behind you, young prince."
I turned and instantly worry overcame me at the female figure before me. For a moment, I considered, was she perhaps an Oceanid?
If yes, I couldn't trust her, she might rat me out to her father without a second thought. But something calmed me down, she looked quite similar to them, bluish skin, black hair, clearly a sea nymph, just as beautiful as them, but I had seen few other people for the first years of my life, I'd recognize an Oceanid in an instant.
Something about her and especially the way she addressed me made me certain she was not one, young prince, only one of my father's servants would address me like this. Instantly I calmed, though my heart was still racing.
"Who are you?" I asked and she smiled.
"Eidothea," She answered and realization dawned on me.
"You are the one who helped Menelaus get back home, Proteus' daughter." I stated, feeling relieved, and she nodded.
"Yes, makes you my uncle technically speaking," The nymph answered, sounding amused at that. "but it matters little who I am, much more who send me, your father wants to speak to you."
"How did you find me so fast?" I asked and she rolled her eyes.
"Something like this draws attention," She told me, pointing down. "I am sure if your father hadn't calmed the waves you'd have wiped out half of Barbados and the lesser Antilles with the tsunami that would have followed."
"Oh," I said, unable to really say anything to that, you can't exactly justify causing massive natural disasters, so I tried to distract myself. "So, you said my father wanted to speak to me?"
"Yes," She said and held out a hand, before frowning at the Scythe, I still held and commenting. "There is no need for that, is there?"
"So?" I asked, confused. "I can hardly let it go?"
"Can't you?" She asked, smirking, the same smirk me and Percy had. "It's yours, unless someone takes it from you, it will return to you if you wish. As your father would say, what belongs to the sea, returns to the sea."
I still was doubtful, perhaps I was about to make the most foolish mistake ever, but still I let go of the Scythe. And watched it disappear into the waves, again I imagined my sword reappearing. A few heartbeats passed, before it reformed in a swirl of mist.
A painful remembrance went through me as I thought about my old weapon. I adored that weapon, it was as much a part of me as an arm. But not just that, it was a symbol, the sword dozens of Athenian King's up to Theseus' himself bore, an irreplaceable piece of history.
The scholar in me wept, but it might be better this way, it had always served as a painful reminder, a gift from Oceanus, a god I by now... despised? I wasn't sure, my feelings towards him were far from clear.
Perhaps there was something even more poetic to it, I grinned as I thought of my namesake again. He had slain Periphetes, that bandit son of Hephasteus, with the club he made himself, took it and made it his weapon. I really was more similar to that bastard than I liked to admit, going to the Underworld, beating up some bandits, and now this?
"Ahem," Eidothea cleared her throat. "young prince, if you don't mind? Just take my hand and close your eyes, I'll bring you to your father's palace."
I nodded and reached out to her, closing my eyes as I felt her flash us. Before I even opened them, I noticed something wrong. Had I before felt the Atlantic around, above and below me, I instantly noticed this wasn't it. The waters were familiar, too familiar.
The cold waters of the northern pacific depths flowed around me and I realized where we were. The panic returned to me, as I realized what this was. The place I had called home for most of my life, where I had been raised, trained and taught.
Oceanus' palace, and I was standing right in his throne room, said god sitting a mere few dozen feet away on his shimmering throne carved of mother of pearl.
By hand of a traitor the thief is caught, I thought back to the prophecy. I never was a traitor, but certainly a thief now. Anger flashed through me as I realized the betrayal. Calling the blade to my hand I whirled around and as it appeared I lashed out, but the nymph had already disappeared again.
Desperate, I turned around again, looking at Oceanus who rose from his throne.
"Peace, my child," He spoke, his voice calm and ancient as he raised his hand and I felt the water hold me in place. "there is no need for that, for now, I merely want to speak to you."
AN:
On the matter of Adamant, perhaps an elaboration would be good, or maybe you just want to listen to my ramblings, either way, here we go.
What I am calling Adamant (or adamantine) is, despite its pop-cultural spread neither referring to any modern superhero comics, nor to mythical metals from D&D, Pathfinder and what not.
Instead it is very much based on the mythological stuff from which, Hera's throne that Hephasteus made as a trap, Perseus' harpe (his curved sword), Hermes sword and originally even Kronos' Scythe is made from.
What is Adamant you might ask? Well, that is not quite clear, but it is one of the mythical metals like Celestial Bronze, Stygian Iron and Imperial/Enchanted Gold, just a lot less prominent.
The only real PJO "Canon" source we have is PJ's greek gods, but oh well, I like Adamantine.
As always, thanks for reading, I'd be quite grateful for any sort of feedback, a favorite, a follow and most above all a review!