Perseus -
I hadn't seen Annabeth in nearly two weeks. I called her every night like clockwork, but I hadn't seen her since that dreadful day. I just couldn't trust myself. I know it might seem like I'm overreacting, but I'm not. When Matt fucking Sloan said that word something happened to me. I wasn't in control of myself. I may have only punched him once, but I didn't want to stop. I wanted to hurt him. I wanted him to feel pain. But Annabeth reeled me in and I knew I needed help. Who else to help me but my old mentor?
"Lord Perseus," the centaur greeted. I had been standing on the shoreline, my feet in the water.
"Hey Chiron. What are we doing today?"
"You'll see," Chiron said. "Follow me."
We walked down the beach for what seemed like forever. We didn't speak and I had no desire to. Every day Chiron has been helping me learn to control myself. Become in tune with my emotions. He told me that the key to control was understanding. He had helped me complete different tasks. We would have hour long talks about how I felt when I lost control, what would've happened if Annabeth hadn't caught me. We spoke about every person I had lost, good or bad, from Smelly Gabe to Luke to Beckondorf. We would cross swords and he would taunt me. He would say horrible things. Terrible things about the people I love. And normally I was so much stronger of a fighter, but when he was saying those things I began to fade out again. I began to lose myself. But he would help me and I was getting better.
"In here," Chiron said. There was an old barn. It was isolated and far from camp. I had never seen it before, but I knew it's purpose. Chiron wanted to make sure I wouldn't hurt anyone. I wish I could have said confidently that that was unnecessary, but I would hate to lie. I grabbed the handle of the door to open it, but Chiron stopped me.
"What?"
"Remember everything we've been doing. Be in control of yourself. Remember," Chiron warned. "when you go in there you can't forget yourself. Bend don't break, Perseus. Don't break."
I nodded softly and swung the creaky farm doors open and stepped inside. It didn't seem so scary. It didn't seem like it deserved the warning Chiron gave it. The doors swung shut and the lock slid into place with a click. Then, with a flash a purple, I fell.
Crawling to my knees I saw my opponent. Dionysus. He was wielding some sort of crude wooden staff that oddly enough had a pine cone on top. Eh, I thought, seems on brand enough.
"You," I growled.
"Me," Dionysus said smugly. Another flash of purple light was shot at me, but I deflected it with my sword. Another benefit with training one on one with Chiron was that he helped me work on my reflexes and tap into my godly powers.
"What," I asked, "do you think you're doing?"
"Repaying a favor, Perseus. You can imagine my delight, of course, when Chiron told me all I had to do was fight you," Dionysus said. His smirk was really getting to me. "I'd been expecting a hard task. Something menial and very ungodly, but Chiron isn't like that, of course. But he must have decided you needed to shave down your ego a bit."
"You think that'll be so easy, huh?" I asked, sneering at him. It felt like the end of a video game when I was at the boss level. Although he wasn't anywhere near the worst opponent I had faced. So the only exception was that I was confident that I could beat him. Somewhere within me I knew I was underestimating him, but seriously? A pudgy old drunk with too loud shirts and a pinecone stick? I had beaten Ares when I was twelve, barely, but still. Just surviving the God of War in hand-to-hand combat was an accomplishment.
"You seem to forget that once upon a time I was in your position too? A demigod turned god. The difference between us is that I've been doing a whole lot longer," Dionysus said harshly. Grape vines grew around his feet and snaked there way over to me. I slashed and parried threw them, making my way towards the wine god.
"No," I said, "the difference is that I was raised here based on merit. All you did was start a cult for drunks like you."
Annabeth had shown me the myths of Mr D. I was surprised that I had remembered, but so was he. And I used it to my advantage. A quick jab and his chest was soaked in ichor. I no longer felt the rush of accomplishment that I had when I was twelve.
"You fool!" Dionysus bellowed. "Piece of sea scum."
He slammed his staff to the ground and the vines started to come at me quicker. I dodged them for now, but Dionysus wasn't holding back any more. I knew my sword wouldn't be able to cut through them all and also attend to Dionysus.
"You're not the only one with powers," I reminded him. I summoned water from the air and pooled it at his feet. I saw panic flood his eyes as I lifted him, spinning him in the air. The vines stopped growing and I crossed the floor to reach him. I slashed at him again, his golden blood erupting from a wound on his face. He howled in that abandoned barn.
"Perseus," he said, his undeserved smugness stained gold, "you seem to have forgotten the last of my powers. Just as easily as I healed that Rodgreuiz boy's mind, I can also destroy them." Despite being in the middle of my current of water, he sent a final pulse of purple light out and collapsed into the clutches of the water. It was brighter this time, and it looked like purple flames. When it hit me, I felt the ground tremble as I blacked out.
"What happened to him?" someone murmured softly.
"Quiet child," another voice said, "let him sleep."
"But-"
"There is no discussion. He can only be healed when he wakes. Until then..."
The voice trailed off as I woke up. I stood in inky blackness, a red mist drowning the skies. I stood in nothingness and everythingness. Boundaries ceased to exist. An odd feeling of completing the incompleteness of this place.
"Hello?" I asked the void. It felt sentient, almost. One of the things I have learned to do lately was assess auras and this one was overwhelming. I wasn't sure if it even counted as an aura or a being. It was a void, energy was pulsing in this place.
"Perseus," a lady greeted, "I've been waiting for you. It has been too long."
"Who are you?"
"A friend," she promised. My movements were sluggish and my mind felt slow, yet I stepped closer to this woman. She radiated power. A hungry sort of power, yet her smile disarmed me. It was genuine, but something felt very, very off.
"How do you know my name?"
"I know everyone who steps in my domain, although I admit you are special," the lady said. Two chairs formed from the inky void and she sat. Perhaps before I became a god I would've sat with her. But now? Now I had been tricked too many times. No more.
"And what exactly is your domain?" I asked. I didn't trust her. Something about this place was messing with me. Her eyes were changing colors is a hypnotizing way. They were odd colors too. It would fade from black to violet to gray. A gray so unlike Annabeth's. This lady's eyes were steely and sharp and a light color that bordered on white.
"That is something you will figure out in your own time. I, often times, appear exactly where you'd expect it to. Hiding in plain sight, I like to say, is the best spot to hide," she told me.
"Are you a goddess?" I asked. "A Titanness? A monster?"
"A monster?! You insult me," she said with mirth. "I am a Goddess, yes."
"And Dionysus sent me here?"
"It is hard to tell, but as far as I can tell he only nudged you in the right direction," she said. "Everyone gets here eventually. Seldom do they realize it and ever less frequently do they meet me, but you Perseus, you are special."
"You know, I'm tired of people telling me that without actually knowing why. Maybe I'm not special at all, or maybe I am, but I don't want to be," I said.
"I can tell you, but you'll have to let me show you."
"Do it," I said. "Show me."
What I really meant was 'Prove it to me. Prove why I'm always singled out like this.' I had so many questions for the universe. So many that boil down to 'Why me?'. Questions that will never be answered. Maybe this lady could tell me. I'm not even sure if this is real.
"Oh it is very real, Perseus. Grab my hand," she said. Touch didn't seem to register in my head, but I grabbed her hand all the same. My mind had been pulsing with clarity as we sat there, but touching her made it increasingly so. "Watch it from everyone else's eyes. Watch life from the perspective of the bystanders."
The first image was from years ago. I was twelve. I was short and runty and overall unimpressive. Yet I gripped Riptide with such expertise. I swung through the Fury in that dreadful museum with such power, with such determination. That relentlessness made up for my inexperience. I watched myself through Chiron's eyes. I saw fear flicker on the demon's face.
The image shifted to Grover's perspective. I was fighting the Minotaur with my bare hands. My mom had been shredded into golden dust and I stood there in my red rain slicker. My eyes had darkened as Grover fell to the ground. I had taunted the Minotaur, pretending to have more confidence than I truly did. With hidden agility, I straddled the monster's neck. I looked powerful and in control as the beast tried to throw me off of him. Pulling the horn off with a strength I shouldn't have possessed, I rolled to the ground gracefully. With the thunder booming and the lightning illuminating me, I raised my prize. The jagged horn the size of a knife. When the bull foolishly charged me, I pierced it's chest with it's own horn. Watching disdainfully as it fell apart into that sand-like dust. Only then did I let the pain and grief show on my face. Even then, I grunted and carried Grover across the border and onto the porch steps. I saw Annabeth look at me like a hero.
'He's the one. He must be.' If only she had known.
Then it showed me the beach at Santa Monica Pier through Annabeth's eyes. I felt her fear as I taunted the God of War. Was she scared of me or for me? I baited Ares and teased and pushed him. And soon enough we were crossing swords and I was holding my own. I noticed that when I fought my green eyes darkened, like a stormy day at sea and the corners of my mouth turned upwards. I looked unsettling, even at age 12. When Ares threw a wall of fire at the mortals I watched my scowl deepen, until it switched to a grin as I knocked him with a six foot wave of water. I was relentless then, blow after blow. Landing my blade in his heel. Hearing him scream.
It shifted to different campers watching me practice sword fighting. I heard their whispers, 'Best sword-fighter in centuries'. No one wanted to train with me next. No one wanted the bruises and slashes I inflicted. I hadn't meant to hurt anyone. It was all instinct.
Then it showed me fighting the hydra. Then Polypherus. It showed Tyson begging me not to stab his older brother, my older brother. Pleading for mercy. And me reluctantly diverting my sword. I should've killed that cyclops when I had the chance.
The scene switched from then until now. Every battle, every fight I had ever been in it showed me. It showed my face and expressions in battle and they scared me. It showed when I blew up an entire mountain by accident, erupting a dormant volcano, displacing millions of people, loosening the chains of a monster that even the gods feared. It showed my manical laughter when I fought Hyperion in the eye of a hurricane. It showed my blood stained face as I faced Kronos again and again. When I shouted for the battle to stop when Annabeth got hurt. How everyone stopped to listen, even the Titan of Time. When I blew up that bridge. When I tried to fight that drakon even though it was impossible to win. When I brought down half their army on the battlefield by sheer will power. The way people automatically looked to me to be their leader. When Chiron stepped aside for me. My body glowing gold as I was granted immortality. When all of Olympus knelt before me. The fear and pity Annabeth felt as I punched Matt Sloan. Fear of me and pity for him.
The lady removed her finger from my forehead and I gasped. I felt awful. I felt sick. I didn't know what to make of myself. In those images it was hard to tell if I was the bad or good guy. I looked like a hardened criminal or a weapon to be feared and I was only 16. I didn't want people to fear me. Respect, sure, but not fear. Never fear.
"Do you see now, Perseus?" she asked me. Her eyes blazed a fiery red now.
"Yeah," I coughed. "I get it."
My head felt woozy. It was unsettling seeing myself from other people's perspectives. I felt their emotions. Thought their thoughts. I lived their fear, their fear of me. Who had I become? My Mom didn't raise me to be a killer. She sure did raise me to be a god.
"No one could do all that, sacrifice that much, and come out unscarred," she told me. "That is why you are here. To heal."
"Is that who you are? A healer?"
"Not quite," she laughed. "You're a funny one, Perseus. I haven't laughed in centuries. No one wants to laugh with a goddess like me."
"As much as I'm having a blast, it would be hilarious if you let me in on what's going on here."
"I told you. You are here to heal. Heal your mind," she said.
"Is it healed yet?"
"Not quite."
"What happened after it is healed?"
"Then you must leave me," she said. She seemed almost sad. Disappointed, perhaps.
"And did Dionysus make me sick or something when he hit me with that last blow?" I asked her. Her eyes had dulled back to that almost white color.
"In a way," the lady told me. "Imagine it this way: you have an object very dear to you. Now this object has a crack in it. The object is still functional and the crack cannot be fixed, but the crack will get bigger. So instead of waiting for the object to be utterly useless, you simply break the whole object. Why? So you can get a new one. A stronger one. Now that object is your mind and the crack is your rage."
I opened my mouth to say something, to ask her to explain, but she slammed her palm to my forehead and everything went black again.
"Perseus, milord," a voice said, "How are you feeling?"
My eyes fluttered open and closed. Blue eyes stared down at me. Familiar blue eyes. Kind eyes. Eyes that help not harm. I tried to place a name to the face. Images swarmed my mind. Blond hair. Motorcycle. New York City. He saved her.
"Will," I said. "I'm fine." I pushed myself into a sitting position. My head was pounding where the lady hit it. I realized I was still laying on the floor of the abandoned barn. The floor had a huge crack down the middle, similar to the one Nico had created at camp a few years ago. Withering grape vines littered the floor and the room was soaked in water.
"Sir, I must insist that you are certainly not fine," Will Solace said. Ignoring him, I stood up. My head was swimming in pain. I foolishly thought godhood would be an escape from the pain, but apparently not. The room had Chiron, Will, and Dionysus standing in it. Dionysus laid in the crack, sprawled out on the other side of the room.
"How long was I out?" I asked.
"Just a minute or so," Chiron told me. I narrowed my gaze. Perhaps time in that lady's realm worked differently, but it had certainly felt a lot longer than a minute or so.
"Perseus," Chiron called out, as I started walking to the door. "You must lay back down. You are not well. Dionysus is the god of madness and that pulse of light that he hit you with would make you mad. I'm not sure how you're walking right now... perhaps it is different for gods."
"It isn't," Dionysus croaked, "It should've knocked him into insanity. He should not be awake right now."
"Was that the goal?" I asked. "Taking me out?"
"No sir," Chiron said. "We were trying-"
"Don't call me sir or Perseus or milord, just Percy. Please." I wasn't mad at them and that was the good part. Before this I would've felt the anger beginning to bubble up. But I guess the healing worked. I just was simply asking.
"We were trying to help you. Heal you."
"I know, but someone else got there first, you see," I told them. "Someone who healed me for no reason other then they thought I needed help."
"Who?"
"She wouldn't tell me her name, but she said she was a goddess and not a healer," I said. Dionysus' eyes darkened and he flashed out of the room, presumably back to camp.
"Was it something I said?"