The Girl

"I really should have asked those guys for some horses", a voice grumbled through the thick foliage. A quiet swishing sound was audible and a particularly thick piece of bush fell to Perseus' feet. It had been three days since the young hero had left the city of Meliboea, despite its citizens begging him to stay, or at least to accept their hospitality longer than a scant few hours. At that time he had been overwhelmed at their graciousness, as well as the amount of presents they were willing to give the saviour of their city. Gold, fancy cloaks, weapons, even sculptures and a carriage of all things, the meliboeans attempted gifts were nearly uncountable. No one could fault Perseus for panicking, denying most of those gifts and leaving the city and its weird inhabitants as quickly as possible. He had decided to only take the barest of essentials from them; a compass and a map, water, some food and a tent, a small hunting bow, as well as a bedroll and some blankets.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid", he mumbled. "Why do I even have to hurry that much? Not like it's going to make a difference whether I get to Rome in a month or a month and one day from now on"

His spear swung again and another part of the foliage fell out of his way, cut clean in two.

"And you!", the demigod hissed and stared at the weapon in his hands. "What's up with you anyways? Why the heck can you move all on your own? Are you magical?" Perseus paused for a second. "Duh", he said and palmed his forehead, continuing onwards on his journey. "Da- Poseidon gave you to me, of course you're magical!"

His eyes narrowed slightly. "The question is just exactly how magical you are". He shook his head while cutting down another branch in his way. "I guess we will find that out soon enough. Also, I think I should stop talking to you. I mean, you don't even have a name yet!" Perseus paused in hought. "No, wait, that's not the damn problem here! I shouldn't talk to you, period! You're just an inanimate object for Hades' sake!" He sighed. "Seems like all that lonely walking is getting to me. Oh what wouldn't I give for some company. At least then I would have someone other to talk to than you, spear. No, wait, bad Percy! Stop talking with your weapon, you're better than that!"

What Perseus did not know though was that his wish for company would be granted to him. Very soon. In fact, it all began roughly two days later. A meeting that would leave its mark upon his destiny for the rest of his life.

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He had been on the road for almost half a week now, and the lack of talking company was slowly but surely getting to him. And according to the map he had still around a month of travelling to do if he wanted to reach Pylos! It was around midday and the sun was already high in the sky. The heat would soon be unbearable, and thus Perseus decided to break in some of the dried meat that he still had from his supplies from Euboea. He was located at the foot of a mountain called Ossa. He had to surround it for it stood square in his way and by the gods, travelling in this terrain was certainly everything but fun. The earth was dry and dusty, getting into his lungs with the slightest breeze, the air either too hot or too cold and the ground was treacherous. Perseus had already stopped counting how many times he had landed on his butt after stepping on a particularly loose rock. Long story short, he hated every part of his journey and with no company to talk to, his spear had had the dubious pleasure of being the object of his venting. Venting that involved a lot of angry shouts, cursing and swinging the spear through the air. Which weirdly also seemed to help with its sudden bouts of I-do-my-own-thing-and-freak-Perseus-out-Syndrome.

And so it happened that Perseus sat in the shade beneath a small bush next to the winding mountain-road, chewing on some dried meat when a noise reached his keen ears. It was laughter. A clearly male voice, laughing with mirth. It was faint, a fair distance behind him. If he hadn't stopped when he did, he most likely would have missed it entirely. Another voice, also male laughed as well, until it uttered a pained gasp. Perseus grinned. Probably some merchants, or boys from one of the small villages nearby who were having a small scuffle among friends. Oh what he would give to join them, and if only for a minute. But then, he heard it. A scream, high pitched, female most likely, and clearly full of terror. All the mirth vanished as quickly as a bunch of snow in Hepaestus' forge. Perseus wasted no time. He jumped up, grabbed his backpack and spear and sprinted back the way he came. He ran down the road, following the screaming, dove through some bushes and around the corner of a big rock.

What he saw disgusted him. There were four of them, or rather, there were three of them, and one of her.

Two were holding her down, while the third one dangled a dagger in front of her face. Not close enough to cut her, but still enough that her next scream died halfway in her throat.

"Been a while since we had some fun, why don't we indulge ourselves a bit, eh boys?" the one who held her hands down said, a sick grin on his face. The one with the knife didn't answer and instead ripped open her dress, exposing her for all the world to see.

The girl begged and cried and pleaded, all to no avail. The men just laughed even more at that, and the seeming leader was already opening his breeches. The sickening grin on his face didn't falter once, not even when Perseus' spear entered his back and exited through his stomach again, spurting blood everywhere. The other two men, having only just noticed the apoplectic demigod in front of them, sprung up and tried to get their weapons, only for Perseus to tackle one of the two in a mad dash of rage. His head smashed against a stone by the road, cracking open his skull and killing him instantly. Panting heavily, Perseus stared at the body beneath him. He felt good. Angry, enraged and light-headed, but also a primal kind of good. Suddenly a shadow covered him. He turned around. There was the last would-be rapist, his sword ready to hack Perseus in two. Perseus tried to get up and dodge, but he instinctively knew that he'd not be fast enough. Then, a scream and a thumping noise and the bandit fell face forward into the dirt. On his back sat the half naked girl. Looked like she had tackled him from behind. With a scream she raised her hands, hands that were clasping the leader's bloodied dagger tightly and plunged it into the man's back. He shrieked with pain but the girl didn't stop. Again and again she brought the weapon down. Blood covered her hands, her body and the ground around her but Perseus made no move to stop her. In a way he felt disappointed that it wasn't him who had killed the final bandit as well. The girl brought her dagger down one final time before collapsing on her hands and knees. Broken sobs and hiccups wrecked her frame as she tried to recover from the truly horrifying experience that she had been forced to endure. Slowly and careful not to startle her, Perseus crouched down and laid a hand on her shoulder. The other one went to her fist and gently pried the knife out of her bloodied hands. She flinched, but upon realising that he did not mean her any harm leant back, all but collapsing into his chest. She sobbed, a heart wrenching and utterly broken sound and Perseus felt tears run down his cheeks. He didn't dare to imagine what would have happened, had he been a few minutes too late, if he hadn't decided to stop for lunch when he had.

Slowly, over the next few minutes the sobbing became quieter and quieter, until it disappeared completely. She seemed to have fallen asleep, which, considering what she had just been forced through, was probably for the best.

Deciding that she shouldn't wake up anywhere near the bodies of those scum Perseus gently picked her up, while vainly trying to preserve what little modesty she still had. Once they arrived by the place where he had tried to eat before this whole debacle he rolled out his bedroll and gently laid her down on it, careful not to disturb her slumber. The bandit's dagger he laid next to her and finally left for a nearby stream to clean himself and his weapon off all the blood.

She hadn't woken up when he returned and thus Perseus began to gather some wood for a small fire. Call him an oracle, but he had the feeling that he wouldn't be travelling much further today.

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It wasn't until the evening that the light shivers and quiet, sleepy whimpers that occasionally came from Perseus' bedroll stopped, and the body upon them moved again. His eyes snapped immediately to her. He had to admit that he was curious about her, but for privacy's sake he had tried not to stare at her sleeping, and most importantly still half-naked form too much. Perseus had given her a small blanket that he had cut in some holes for head and arms, as well as a string to tie it over her front, but he doubted that this would be a viable solution in the long run.

But, back to the girl. She woke up, and for a moment it seemed like she had forgotten what had happened to her. But then she dashed up, dagger grasped in her hand. In doing so she exposed her nude breasts and stomach to Perseus again, but she did not seem to care. Perseus valiantly concentrated on her hair and fought to keep his eyes above her neck, and after a few seconds she thankfully seemed to realize that he meant her no harm and sat down. She wordlessly took the string and blanket and after trying on the makeshift dress sat down across the fire from him. He handed her a bit of bread and a strip of salted meat and she quietly nodded her thanks.

Now, in the fire's flickering light and beneath countless stars in the sky he could take a closer look at her. She was tall, sitting nearly as tall as him. Long flowing black hair covered her head. Her brown eyes stared at him with, not quite distrust, but a certain amount of weariness, though there seemed to be something softer hidden behind that as well. Her skin, copper-colored and covered with grime and sweat, seemed to give her a unique kind of glow and her small, slightly upturned nose let her seem noble and aristocratic in Perseus' opinion. Long story short, she was insanely beautiful. Way more beautiful than any other woman Perseus had ever seen by far. Which, admittedly was not much, but still

"So…", Perseus began, seemingly breaking her out of her own reverie. "Are you okay?" It was a stupid question. She was tired, hurt, dirty and had nearly been raped, of course she was very much not okay. But despite all that there still seemed to be something regal about her, something larger than life lurking just behind her proud, hostile and frightened eyes.

Said eyes moved to watch the flickering flames and for nearly a minute she didn't answer. "I… I guess", she finally said. Her voice was hoarse and tired, but it was also soft and melodic. Perseus didn't doubt that she would probably be a splendid singer. "I don't know what to feel, to be honest", she continued.

Perseus nodded. "I see". He didn't. But then again, he had never been a great conversationalist to begin with. For a while they just sat there, staring at everything but seeing nothing really.

Well I don't know, but I think that after the kind of shit she had to go through she shouldn't be left alone with her thoughts, Perseus thought to himself. And so he said:

"So… My name's Perseus. May I ask what's yours?"

If she was surprised by the sudden question then she didn't show it. "I'm Zoë", she quietly replied.

"Pretty name", Perseus answered, before his eyes widened. Foot insert mouth, he had not wanted to say that aloud!

A quiet chuckle ripped him out of his thoughts. Evidently the girl, Zoë, had seen his reaction and correctly guessed what had shot through his head. And instead of being offended she thought it amusing. That was good, that had to mean something good!

"And, what were you doing alone on the road?", he asked. That seemed to be a dangerous topic. Zoë's hands clenched into fists and her eyes seemed to drill themselves into the flames. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to of course", Perseus tried to salvage the situation, but Zoë shook her head.

"It's okay", she said. "I... did something stupid and my family kicked me out of our home for it" Fresh tears filled her eyes. It must have been a very sore topic for her.

Perseus scoffed quietly. "They weren't your real family then", he said.

Zoë wiped an arm over her eyes. "What do you mean?", she asked.

"Family is family, no matter what", the demigod answered. "If they were your real family, they would have stuck to you, not cast you out into the wilderness to die" The or worse he needn't say.

"You speaking from experience?", she asked.

Perseus nodded and sighed. "My father abandoned me and my mom when I was a child. Left her to die and probably searched himself a new, younger, woman"

"Well, he wasn't your real father then", Zoë said. Perseus smiled lightly and raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"Oh? Pray tell why?", he asked.

"Family is family, no matter what" Zoë smirked. Perseus laughed. "I like that", she added quietly.

Perseus just smiled silently upon hearing that. "Glad I could lift your spirits up a bit" He sat up straighter and looked Zoë in the eyes. "I'm sorry, I don't want to pry, but do you have any other people you could go to? Friends, extended family or something like that?"

Zoëshook her head. "My extended family despises me nearly as much as my actual family does"

"Oh", Perseus answered. "I'm sorry to hear that. Must be some dysfunctional family", he muttered.

"Like you wouldn't believe", Zoë replied, having heard him evidently.

For a while they sat there again in silence until Zoë broke it. "Why are you here? All alone on the road?"

"Ah, that's a long and complicated story", Perseus answered. "But the short version is that I'm currently on my way to Pylos and from there on to Rome"

"Rome", Zoë breathed. "I'd love to see Rome one day"

"Well, if you want, you can accompany me?", Perseus offered.

Zoë's eyes widened.

"That is, only if you want to, of course", Perseus backpedalled quickly. "I don't want to force you into anything you don't want and-"

"I'd love to go with you to Rome", Zoë interrupted him. "That is, only if you really want me to come…"

A brilliant smile appeared on Perseus' face. "I would love to travel with you! You wont believe how maddening it is to travel alone for days or even weeks on end! You're truly gods-send!"

With these words Perseus started to consult his map, not noticing at all the strange, conflicted and guilty expression that flittered over Zoë's face upon hearing that.

Perseus turned around and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Do you still have anything back… back there?", he asked and pointed vaguely in the direction of where he had found her hours earlier.

Zoë shook her head. "No, I don't. Only the clothes on my back. Or what's left of them" She brushed her hand through her long, dark hair, like she was searching for something in there. "And I miss my hair-, no, nevermind that anymore '', she murmured and let her hand fall back to her side.

Perseus gave her a short look but didn't further comment on it. Seemed to be something personal so he didn't want to pry.

They both spent the rest of the evening planning out their route for the next few days. Something that was a lot harder than Perseus had originally assumed it to be. Weirdly enough Zoë did not know anything about the area they both were in. Upon his asking where she actually hailed from she just answered with a curt "way more to the west" and then refused to elaborate anymore than that. Perseus could respect that, he really did, but that didn't mean that it wasn't a bit concerning. In the end they both agreed that they would head for the nearby city of Larissa. Mostly to stock up on supplies and to get Zoë some decent clothes that were better fit for travelling than the torn rags she wore currently. Perseus still had quite a bit of valuables from Elaeus and Meliboea that he could sell or trade for those essentials. And who knew, maybe they'd get lucky and even find a horse or a donkey to buy? Having one of those would make their journey substantially easier, not to mention faster.

Also, Perseus noted to himself, he really needed to get himself a second bedroll. He had given his to Zoë, despite her protests that she didn't mind sleeping on the floor. He did not mind either but that didn't mean that it was comfortable to sleep on the rocky, hard earth. Though, it could also be worse, he mused. He could still be alone on his journey. Guess I just have to wait and see what the future brings me. A quiet snore from his tent made him turn his head. Or rather, what it will bring us, he amended with a wry smile. And with these thoughts he lay down his head and drifted off into slumber.

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As soon as Perseus opens his eyes he knows that he is dreaming. A fact that startles him. After all, he hadn't had dreams in years. Well, of course he dreams, just like any other normal person does. But, excluding his meeting with his father several days ago, it had been years since he had been in a true Dream, a dream that only those of divine blood can ever have.

He looks around. He seems to be in some kind of cave. Stalactites and stalagmites adorn the ceiling and the floor and the air smells old and stale. He feels no air currents, nor any water flowing anywhere around him. For all he knows this place could be trapped within miles and miles of solid stone.

"Hello?", he calls out into the darkness. No one answers him. Not even his echo. He calls out again, but again nothing comes forth. Slowly he takes a step forward. He feels gravel crunching beneath his foot, but he hears nothing. He claps his hands but they also make no sound. He knows that he clapped them, he feels them perfectly, but no matter what he does, the only sound he can produce is that of his own voice.

It is unnatural, and it scares him. He knows that this is a dream, but that isn't all there is to it. He does not know why, or how but this dream, no, this place as well, is of great importance. Or rather, it will be. Sometime in the future.

He reaches a wall. There is something carved into it but it is dark and foggy and he cannot truly see what it says.

Then, heat. An explosion of light on his right, and a searing, terrible, burning heat on his left. He stumbles, falls on the floor and crawls the last few steps back.

His heart is pounding in his chest, but nothing else happens.

In front of him two fire bowls have appeared. One made out of silver on the right and one made out of gold on the left.

The right one burns bright, nearly explodes in a grand and awe inspiring flame. Several meters it shoots into the air before it dies, only to appear again a few seconds later. Like it has to be lit again time and time again.

The left one is just a collection of gleaming cinders, not burning at all but releasing an intense and unnatural heat. In between both of them he can now see the writing on the wall. Or, the first few lines at least.

His gaze falls upon the letters and his eyes begin to burn. His head pounds, his heart races and the words sear and burn and brand themselves into his memory, never to be forgotten.

One little hero, running all alone.

Dwelling in the darkness of an empty home.

The Lonely Life

He's travelling to where the roads all end,

Dreading to learn who is foe and friend.

Ceaseless in her pursuit

Two little heroes, they see the new world's throne.

She rages at the world, his fate is set in stone.

The Watching Well

At the edge of the world he will have to decide.

Between his happiness or the eternal divide.

Ever awaiting her return

One broken hero, crying all alone.

Scouring all the world, for the cure that brings her home.

He knows this is not all. He knows there is more. There are lines that make no sense, words, titles that mean nothing to him and seem to be thrown in haphazardly. It gives him the feeling that someone who had no idea of rhyming, of poetry and prophecies in general just randomly started to throw things and words at this wall. For it is a prophecy, he has no doubt about that. But there still is something more to this than just random babbling on a wall. He just cannot see it. He isn't even sure whether he wants to see it at all. His eyes are pulled back to the terrible, foreboding writing at the wall. He cannot help but stare at it, even as everything goes dark and Perseus jolted awake, cold sweat clung all over him and his heart pounded in his chest.

"Fucking Hades", he murmured, staring at the countless stars above him. "A prophecy? For me? But how? And why? And why now of all times?" The stars didn't answer him sadly. No one did. He was alone with his thoughts, uncertain of the future that would await him.

DUN DUN DUUUUUN

So very ominous, I just hope that Prophecy won't cause Percy and Zoë any problems down the road :3

This chapter came suprisingly easy to me, even though writing Zoë and Percy when they're in the awkward "getting to know each other"-phase of their relationship is kind of a pain.

Also, regarding LoverOfArtemis's review: I've actually never played ACO, but I had hoped that the gimmicks of Percy's spear would be something that you don't see every day in every fantasy story, so hearing that it's in AC is annoying, but also kinda cool I guess.

Also, the prophecy was a pain to write and to rhyme. Props to Big Rick for doing so many of them and still managing to let them sound as badass as they are.