7/28/20

Sorry about the wait folks, I was away from my computer for a while. I've been doing a little woodworking as well, trying to make a table I can put my computer on because my current setup is kinda shitty.

Wordcount: 1085

An Old Friend

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Percy POV:

His eyes fluttered open as he groaned, sitting up. He was laying against a wall, facing the entrance, which was a dozen or so feet in front of him. All he could see was the exit to the cave, the rest of it shrouded in darkness. As he stood, he uncapped Riptide, the light of the sword dimly lighting the cave, revealing writing covering the walls. Approaching one of the walls, one of the scribblings stood out to him. It was carved deep into the wall, in large bold letters of a language he had only seen once before, on Mt. Othrys, carved into the lid of the Titan Kings Sarcophagus. The carving on the wall read the exact same as it had that day, Kronos, Lord of Time.

A cold breeze blew into the cave, and Percy tried to step back, but his legs wouldn't cooperate. A shiver ran up his spine, and feeling came over him, similar to when the Eidolon possessed him, but different, older. Dropping Riptide, his right hand raised, fingers splayed out. Vengeance appeared in his left hand, the sword glinting dangerously in the light. With a quick slash, the sword cut across his palm leaving a shallow wound seeping blood. His right hand raised, and he planted it right onto the carving.

The stone began to grow warm beneath his hand. The letters began to glow crimson, and the cave began to shake. Whispers swirled around him, too faint to understand. His left eye began to burn, and warmth began to crawl up his arm. The pain grew and grew until it became unbearable. The whispers became louder until they were almost deafening. His mouth opened in a wordless scream, his left eye burning.

All of a sudden, the pain stopped. The whispers died down and the stone turned cold again. Regaining control of his body, he yanked his hand back, glancing at his palm. It was fine. The cut had disappeared. He was breathing heavily, adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

A sudden headache sent Percy falling back. He moaned, clutching his head. Images coursed through his head. A palace made of black stone. Statues of figures Percy had never seen. A throne of gold. Power coursed through his veins, like a shot of pure energy had been injected into him.

On shaky legs, Percy stood. Leaning against the wall, he spoke a sentence in a language older than the gods, "What just happened?" It was the same language the writing on the walls was. The tongue of the old times. What Gaea had spoken to her first children.

He didn't appear to notice, however. The cave groaned and dust rained from the ceiling. He darted out of the cave, the light nearly blinding him as he exited. The cave collapsed behind him with a dull boom.

Percy stood, brushing dust off his newly acquired black t-shirt and pants. Black was more Nicos style than his, but it didn't really matter much right now. He had some doors to find.

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Still Percy POV:

Crouching atop a mountaintop, Percy Jackson sat. At the base of the mountain, an army of monsters gathered. The group grew more tightly packed together as they got further away from the base of the mountain, before a large circle of empty space surrounding a Door. He was too far away to make out any details of the door, but he instantly knew what it was. He had found the Doors of Death.

The ground behind him began to vibrate, and a rock that was sitting next to him began to slide down the mountain. That was not good. He shot up, sword already in hand. He spun around sword swinging, ready to take out whatever snuck up on him.

He almost didn't stop his sword in time. Standing an inch away from his sword, was a kitten. It was mostly black, with splotches of brown dotted around. One of its eyes was green, the other blue. It seemed unimpressed with his attack, as it waltzed up to his leg, headbutting his combat boots. It began purring, and the ground shook. Huh. He wondered why in the hades there was a cat in Tartarus.

As he was looking at it, it turned into a skeleton-cat. Oh. He had seen this cat before. At the Smithsonian. While trying to raise the Sparti, they had accidentally made these cats. Atlas had told the mercenaries to dispose of then. Apparently he had killed them.

Don't get Percy wrong, while he was definitely a dog person, that didn't mean he hated cats too. Annabeth loved cats, and she had rubbed off on him. He picked the cat up and looked it over. It was a little scrappy, and its fur was matted in places, but it seemed healthy.

Looks like he had a new companion.

He set the cat down and looked back down the cliff.

"How are we going to get out of this one, buddy?" he murmured. The cat responded by headbutting his ankle, purring. He continued to watch the horde, trying to think how in the Hades he would get to the doors when a glimpse of silver just a little further down the slope. Upon closer inspection, it was a human-sized figure, dressed in all silver. Now, Tartarus was very drab, not much variance in color, so silver was a welcome sight, and as far as he knew, not many, if any monsters were silver, which brought up the question What was he looking at?

He crept silently down the slope, approaching the figure from behind. As he got closer, he could make out more features. The silver parka. The dark black hair. The dread grew in his stomach as he got closer and closer to the figure. His newfound cat friend seemed to pick up on his feelings, hissing at the figure and ducking behind Percy.

Soon enough, he was stood directly behind the figure. It was clearly a girl, decked out in the tattered uniform of a Hunter of Artemis. He put his hand on her shoulder and pulled her around.

He met the onyx eyes of Zoë Nightshade.