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Perseus Thrall-Born – ?, 890 CE
When Percy opened his eyes, it was not to the sight of Valhalla's meadows as he expected. Rather, he found himself in a city of pristine marble temples and elegant gardens. While the view was no less beautiful than anything that could be found in Odin's domain, it was hard not to fear that he'd been duped by some grand cosmic scheme. That he was somehow being denied the afterlife that he had earned like none other.
As the idea began to set in, so too did his panic. If Valhalla was not in his future, then there was no telling if he'd ever see Liv again. No reality in which he would greet Trygve and Acke after they died their own warrior's death. He could think of no reason why he would be delivered such a slight, and yet here he was among the clouds, standing in a city that was as assuredly divine as it was foreign.
"It's an imposing sight, is it not?"
Percy breathed a sigh of relief. It was good to hear a familiar voice.
"Freya, it's good to–"
He stopped when he saw that she had not come alone. His father stood by her side, and while he looked as painfully stoic as ever, Freya's eyes were tinged with guilt and sorrow. Given the distinct lack of mead halls and fallen vikingrs in this strange city, such plain remorse did little to fill him with hope.
"What's going on?" He dared to ask. "This isn't Valhalla."
"It is not." His father agreed. "And you are not dead."
"But I– What about the powder? The explosion?"
"I spirited you away before any damage could be done." Freya told him. "Rest assured, Cynefrith is no more. You've…" She hesitated, like the words were tangled thorns caught in her throat. "You've done your part."
Percy frowned. Something was seriously wrong here.
"I don't understand. Cynefrith was only half the battle. England is still full of demigods. I've killed many, but I'm not finished yet, I–"
"That is why you are here, boy." Aegir interrupted. "I once swore to you that you would be the savior of our pantheon. Today, I fulfill that promise."
Aegir snapped his fingers, and suddenly Percy's wrists were burdened by a rattling set of shining bronze shackles. The chains weighed him down and stole his powers, leaving behind a weakened, hollowed out shell of the warrior he was supposed to be.
"By Odin, have you gone mad?"
Aegir didn't even flinch. He just leveled Percy with those hard-as-stone eyes and uttered a single word.
"Walk."
He led Percy through the streets of the strange city with Freya in tow. She didn't speak, but her silent tears told him everything he needed to know. This city would not be the sight of his glorious reward. Instead, the white-walled temples would bear witness to the last move in a divine game that he was only just now beginning to understand. It seemed that in all his madness, Cynefrith had been right about one thing after all.
"At least tell me why." Percy demanded. "If you're going to do, hell, I don't even know what to call this, I deserve to know why."
Aegir sighed, not as if the question bothered him, but like it bored him.
"I always forget how shortsighted you mortals can be." He muttered, more to himself than to Percy. He took a moment to gather his thoughts and then, "When war first broke out between our people and the Olympians, we believed our victory to be well in hand. Odin, in his wisdom, foresaw that our good fortune would not last. He prophesied that we would need a special demigod to save our kind."
"A son of Aegir born from a mortal woman of pure heart." Percy quoted. "Yes, I remember. Was it never your intention for me to win the war?"
Aegir shook his head.
"Odin knew that after such a long and bloody war, the Olympians would not be satisfied with victory alone. Even in peace they would have gone on, slaughtering every last one of our children until we died along with them. We also knew that you would be headstrong, temperamental, and above all else, a prodigy among prodigies. It was Odin's belief that you would be our weapon of mutually assured destruction. That you would prove so disastrously lethal that the Olympians would have no choice but to make a trade: peace in exchange for your life. Today, that belief has been proven right."
Percy's head spun. He whirled on Freya in an instant, with nothing but betrayal on his mind.
"Did you know?"
"I…" Freya's words were swallowed by a sob.
"Did. You. Know?"
It was slow and subtle, but a single nod confirmed his suspicions. Dread filled his heart, and his mind grew clouded with his shock. His entire adult life, his entire purpose, all of it had been guided by trickery. He had only one question then. He turned to Aegir, wishing all the while that his wrists bore no chains, for if he were free, his hands would be wrapped around the god's neck.
"The arrow. The one that killed her. I couldn't stop it. Was that me or was that…"
The thought was so vile he couldn't even finish it. Aegir, however, did not share in his revulsion. He hardly even gave the idea a moment's thought before he replied.
"There was worry among us that you would stray from your course. That you would set aside your quest in order to preserve your people. It was decided that you needed further motivation. I did what was required of me. I guided the arrow and in turn, your–"
Whatever was said next, Percy did not listen. His hearing was dominated by the roaring waters of his fury, and though he was bound by divine chains, he launched himself at his 'father'. His fingers scrabbled for purchase, clawing desperately at whatever patches of blue-tinged skin he could get his hands on. It was only seconds before he was pulled from Aegir by an iron grip, but even such a short time was more than enough for his nails to become stained with gold.
"Enough of that now." A new voice interrupted.
The unseen hand hoisting Percy by the nape of his neck turned him around, revealing the identity of the interloper. He was a muscled man – so much so that he rivaled Thor – with raging flames in place of his eyes. His entire being oozed with the aura of war and death, and simply meeting his gaze filled Percy with loathing. This had to be an Olympian, and if Freya's teachings were worth their weight in betrayal, then he was looking at Ares, the god of war.
"The deal is done." Ares said, never taking his eyes off Percy's squirming form. "Return to your king and tell him that so long as the terms are upkept, Olympus and Asgard have no quarrel with one another."
Aegir nodded, Freya wept, and in a flash, they were gone. Percy was alone then. Left with nothing but his hatred, his sorrow, and a god's hand around his neck.
"And now that that business is through," Ares said with a sneer, "your 'trial' awaits."
Perseus Thrall-Born – Olympus, 890 CE
The throne room of Olympus was a truly beautiful sight, but it was hard for Percy to be appreciative of its splendor given the circumstances. The gods were equally remarkable, if not for their power and divine elegance, then for the looks of utter contempt they sent him with each passing breath. For some time they remained quiet, allowing him to soak in their hatred. It seemed that Percy's patience outweighed that of the immortals though, as it was his captors who eventually broke the silence.
"Perseus Thrall-Born." The most dignified looking of the gods – Zeus, presumably – boomed. "You have been brought before the council today for the sole purpose of facing divine punishment. There will be no defense, as your sins are innumerable and unquestionable. Today is not a day of deliberation, but of justice. We Olympians–"
"So this is an execution then?"
Some of the gods gasped, no doubt astounded that a mortal would dare to interrupt their king. Others looked minutely impressed, albeit in much the same way a sailor would be impressed by a shark that took his hand and circled round for seconds. The most volatile reaction, however, came from the king of the gods himself.
"An execution?" Zeus bellowed. "That implies you hold any worth to this council. No, this is nothing more than the putting down of a dog that will not answer to its master. And since there is no precedent for pomp when dealing with scum…"
Zeus drew back his hand, summoning to it a bolt of crackling lightning so powerful that Percy could feel it's touch even before it had been launched. Though his chains weighed heavy, Percy readied himself to avoid the blow. He would go down fighting, if only so he may reach Valhalla and take vengeance upon the gods who had doomed him to this fate. Zeus' fingers twitched, and Percy's nerves flared, and then–
"Wait!"
Zeus' arm halted a moment before the bolt was launched, and all attentions turned to the goddess who had spoken out of turn. Grey eyes greeted them, and Percy realized that the woman halting his execution was none other than the mother of his most sworn enemy.
"Daughter, you of all people would have me stay my hand?"
"I would."
Again, a ring of gasps took the throne room.
"Athena, none of our children have suffered at his hands like Cynefrith did. Surely you do not mean to grant him leniency?" The god with the elvish features asked.
"I would like nothing more than to see him condemned to the void." Athena answered. "But look at his stance."
This time, all eyes turned to Percy. As overloaded as he was emotionally, he nearly crumpled beneath the cumulative intensity of their gazes.
"He stands ready to fight, even now." Athena told the assembly. "Killing him would only grant him the chance for vengeance that he no doubt seeks. If we deny him death, we deny him Valhalla. We deny him his own justice. A much more damning punishment, would you not agree?"
There was a rumble of muttered thoughts as the gods mulled Athena's idea over. It was clear some found it insane, and Percy could only hope the skeptics would win out. He very much doubted they would let him walk free, and he doubted even more that he would like the alternative to death that the goddess of wisdom proposed.
"We cannot simply let him go." Zeus said. "He is unbeholden to his own gods now, and that makes him even more dangerous. To release him would be to cast death on our own children."
"Then let him never walk free." Athena replied. "Let us bless him with partial immortality. He will live forever, but never will he gain the strength to burst free of his bonds. Then, we may condemn him to a prison of our own design and deny him his vengeance until the void takes us all."
Horror filled Percy's mind as he was struck by the gravity of Athena's words. The thought paralyzed him, and it wasn't until the twelfth hand was raised that he realized her words were soon to become his reality.
"It is decided then." Zeus decreed. "Perseus Thrall-Born, for your crimes against Olympus, you are hereby sentenced to imprisonment until the end of time. May that day never come."
Despair filled Percy's mind, and then all he felt was the cold.
Trygve Halvardsson – North Sea, 890 CE
"And you're certain your king will take us?"
Acke thought for scarcely a second before nodding.
"King Jökull is a great many things, but vindictive is not one of them. When we arrive on his shores, he will see only the army that was promised to him. He will not trouble himself over the details."
"I hope you speak truly." Trygve said. "The bond between Bjornar and Fannar is the only good to come of this war. I will gladly fight under your banners as you have under mine if it means our people are free and united."
Acke, ever the dour-faced sidekick, actually managed a smile.
"Then you will find nothing but relief in our homeland."
Trygve grunted his assent, and then Acke departed for the prow of the ship. Trygve was alone then, staring backwards across the open ocean. Somewhere, beyond that expanse of midnight blue, he had left behind a kingdom, a crown, and above all else, a brother.
His eyes turned skyward as thoughts of his brother filled his mind. There were a million things he wished he could say to Percy in that moment. Thousands of lectures sprang to mind. Tens of thousands of stories left unshared. Half a million reasons he would feel better with his brother by his side. Trygve heaved a sigh, and with sorrow plaguing his heart, he spoke to the stars that Percy now called home.
"We will meet again one day, brother." He whispered. "That, I promise."
Alex Jackson – Olympus, 2017 CE
All fell silent when Perseus Thrall-Born limped into the throne room. Though his wounds were severe, no damage done could change the way he was looked at by the assembled campers. For the demigods, he had done something beyond deserving of respect. He had taken on an impossible task in defense of a people that he owed less than nothing to, and he had done it nearly at the expense of his own life. Few but Alex knew it was a price Percy was more than willing to pay, and yet none were more impressed by the ancient demigod than he was.
The gods did not share in their childrens' approval. To them, Percy had done little but reaffirm their worst fears. While strong demigods were no stranger to Olympus in the modern day, none could stand with Percy. Alex himself had slain titans and toppled giants, but for a mortal to defeat a deity in their divine form – when their power was near absolute – was a feat entirely unheard of.
Alex knew, however, that the gods' fear stemmed from the heinous side effect of Percy's victory. Somehow, he had split Enyo's essence, and through sheer strength of will, forced her into the void. It wasn't the man the gods feared, but what he represented. The complete and utter destruction of the infinite at the hands of the decidedly finite. He had shown them that they were mortal, and Alex feared what such a demonstration would mean for Percy.
"Perseus Thrall-Born." Zeus boomed, silencing the mutterings of the assembled masses. "Over a thousand years ago, you were brought to this council to face punishment for your crimes against Olympus. We sentenced you to eternal punishment, and much to the frustration of this council, it seems that eternity has come to pass."
Zeus ran a hand over his chin, seemingly deep in thought for a moment, before speaking once more.
"While many of us would like nothing more than to see you returned to your prison, we have no choice but to reconcile with the fact that your efforts have no doubt saved our progeny and, in turn, our rule. Because of this, we've decided to offer you an alternative to the punishment we levied so long ago. A compromise that will do justice both to those you have slain and those you have saved. We believe it will be to your liking."
Percy swallowed whatever concerns were plaguing him, and then he spoke with a voice so raspy it was hardly recognizable.
"I will hear your offer."
Zeus, despite whatever loathing he might harbor for the son of Aegir, actually managed a small smile at that.
"Very well then. Perseus Thrall-Born, for your efforts in defense of our children, we have decided that you may be allowed to serve your sentence in service to Olympus, training our children and defending them from threats until your dying day. We ask this of you, and should you deny this generous offer, demand that you return to Alaska and abandon the holdings of Olympus forever."
The gathered demigods awaited an answer with bated breath. Perseus Thrall-Born was a great many things, callous and terrifying chief among them, but it could never be said that he wasn't the most capable demigod to have ever walked the earth. To have him at camp, teaching future generations and standing in the way of the most dangerous threats, would be the greatest boon to demigod kind since Luke Castellan had given his life to thwart Kronos. All they could do now was hope he would accept.
"You make a compelling offer." Percy said. He paused, thinking on the compromise Zeus had presented. Then, with a faint smile, he spoke. "I only ask that someone else break the news to Chiron."
The cheers that followed were so loud, Alex was certain they would be heard in the deepest reaches of Tartarus. He hoped they would serve as a warning to all those that would stand against the children of Olympus. Perseus Thrall-Born lived, and so long as he did, the enemies of demigods everywhere would not.
Perseus Thrall-Born – Camp Half-Blood, 2017 CE
Percy watched with a smile as the campers returned to their cabins. It had been a strange first week at camp – he doubted Chiron would ever speak to him with an ounce of cordiality – but he had made it through. Hell, if he didn't know any better, he would say that some of the demigods actually enjoyed his course. Well, at least as much as one could enjoy five grueling hours of drilling and sparring.
When the last camper crested the horizon and disappeared from sight, Percy finally allowed his smile to falter. Today had been good, true, but it had also been hard. Even after all these years, the anniversary of Anna's death still weighed heavily on him and reminded him of all the family he had lost.
While the campers headed to their bonfire, Percy longed for the beach. By the time he reached it, dusk had turned to nightfall, but he didn't mind so much. He found the ocean as beautiful in the dead of night as he did when it sparkled beneath the blinding light of the sun. That, and the stars allowed him a chance to speak with his brother, who was no doubt waiting for Percy among them.
"I know I have done little to your liking since Liv's death." Percy murmured. "But I hope that as you look down now, it is with pride at what I've accomplished, and what I've yet to do. I ask only that you tell the many that are waiting for me how much I love them, and that I will join them when the time is right…"
The stars did not speak. They simply twinkled through his sorrow, waiting for him to find the words he needed to say.
"Until then, I will do my best to live as I know you would want me to. To teach these demigods not just how to fight, but how to avoid making the mistakes I have made."
Percy swallowed the lump in his throat, and though he heard no whispers and saw no apparitions, he knew Trygve was listening.
"We will meet again one day, brother." He whispered. "That I promise."
AN
And finished. Boy was this story fun for me. I was more engaged throughout the entirety of this piece than I have been with anything I've written previously, and I think that has shown through what I've produced (Though definitely not in the speed at which I've produced it). Writing this story was extremely difficult at times (particularly in balancing the pacing so that both stories ended at the exact same time) but I think that the work that was required of me resulted in a much more polished, cohesive product.
I feel that Percy's journey in the ancient times (a story of a man losing himself and his loved ones to betrayal and vengeance) and his modern journey (learning to forgive himself for his failings and find purpose in living once again) went well hand in hand. Looking back, the connection between the beginnings of both stories and their ends, along with the parallels between timelines along the way, are the parts which I'm most proud of.
Anyways, all that aside, I truly hope that I've created a story that you can enjoy multiple times over. As always, my goal is not only to enjoy writing as a process, but to entertain people who have been so incredibly supportive of me since I first joined the FF community. I sincerely hope that this story has been a successful exercise in that regard.
Thank you to all those who have been along with me for this story, and I hope to see you again soon with more to offer. You guys are awesome, and I wish you all the best. I'm not sure when I will upload next, but I do know that I am not out of stories to tell. Not by a long shot. We will meet again. I promise you that. Until next time,
Peace