PERI'S POV

At first I don't realize I'm dreaming.

What with the weightless feeling in my gut and the rhythmic rocking back and forth, when my eyes flutter open my immediate thought is that I'm simply aboard the Argo II. However, when my irises adjust to the dim lighting and emptiness of my surroundings, chills run down my spine.

It's very dark.

I'm in a long corridor- seemingly endless, with dirty and chipped checkered tiles on the floor. The walls on either side of me cave upwards to a ceiling so high my head starts spinning as I search for it. Old, torn oil paintings hang helplessly on the stained golden walls, and their eyes seem to watch me where I stand. Candelabras cradle shrinking, trembling candle wicks like dying beetles.

I do not like this place.

I shove my hands into my back pockets to stop them from shaking, but that does nothing for the rattle in my knees.

My feet move on their own, and I force my eyes to focus straight ahead. There is something incredibly eerie about the way the burnt orange light washes over the paintings as I pass them. I try not to look.

There are strange sounds coming from down the path where I am headed, sounds that make my skin break out in goosebumps and my instincts screaming at me to run. But I don't. One foot goes in front of the other, and to be honest, I don't even know why. Why am I still going forward? Why do I continue to venture towards danger?

But I guess the most dangerous thing for me is to not know.

So I forge on and on and it feels like hours are rolling by until a shimmering golden light appears at the end of the corridor, and with each step its slowly growing in size and I think I'm finally at the exit and this horrid dream could be over and I realize that I'm running from desperation because finally. But of course, nothing ever works out how I expect.

Though it doesn't stop the air from rushing out of my lungs with the shock of what I saw.

Before me, was an enormous jail cell that looked like it was stolen from an Old Western movie set, except it was made of the blackest metal I had ever seen. The floor and walls inside the cell were covered in irregularly splattered pools of gold and bronze. The air was hot and stuffy and reeked of stale blood, grime, and the earth. And in the center of the cell, crouched in a small, tight ball was a lone, dark figure, mumbling quiet, intelligible garb too quickly for me to catch.

I swallowed hard, and my voice came out shakier than intended. "You."

The man slowly raised his blonde head up to meet mine, and his bright golden eyes widened. A small sound of surprise left his lips.

My father.

Anastasios moved to stand. "Peri-"

"Shut up," I said quietly.

The god blinked his eyes. "What?"

"I said shut up!" I shouted. "Don't speak to me! Don't even say my name! Just shut up!"

I clenched my fists so tightly I could feel my fingernails digging little crescent shaped grooves into my palms. Anastasios's body shook, and he dropped his gaze to the shiny ebony of the floor. I looked down on his kneeling form coldly, eyes stinging.

"You're nothing but a liar!" I shouted over the tears dancing along my lashes. "You never cared, did you?" I chuckled darkly at myself. "I was so stupid to think otherwise. Acting all 'caring' and fatherly'. Ha! You were never really there for me. You and my good for nothing mom-"

"Silence!" He roared suddenly, rising to his feet and slamming his fists against the jet black bars. "Say what you want about me, but never say a word against your mother!"

"Mother?" I shrieked. "What mother? I don't know any mother. The only person who's ever cared for me was my Gram-"

"Oh, bite your tongue!" He snapped. His hand waved to the black open space around him in the cell, and the golden liquid splattered about rippled suddenly. Almost like a living waterfall, the shimmering gold flowed together into a sparkling pool before rising like a geyser. It solidified before me into one huge mass before molding into a humanoid statue, almost like a wax figurine you would see in museums.

But you wouldn't find this 'wax figurine' in any museum. It had wrinkles and creases upon its face, crinkling with the twinkle in its eyes. The gold took the shape of a small, hunched old woman with a mischievous smile. The figure was so lifelike, so hyper realistic, so familiar that my eyes were watering before I even realized what I was crying for.

My lip quivered. ". . G-Gram. . ?"

The golden woman gleamed and nodded and my cheeks were wet with tears and yet I still could not believe it. Shaking, I lifted my hand through the bars and put my fingertips against hers. Her palm was icy cold, but her hand clasped around my own with a warmth of another caliber. My mind was abuzz. I had so many questions, so many things to say to her, so many hugs and tears and everything, but for some reason my mouth was having trouble articulating a single sentence.

A shaky breath escaped my lips. "This can't be. . I thought you. . "

Anastasios groaned weakly, and his arm fell back down into the cradle of his other in pain. And just as quickly as she had materialized before me, Gram's solid Imperial Gold form melted into a gooey puddle on the ebony floor. It was like an invisible whirlpool, and right before my eyes the tiny lake of gold went back to its lucid state.

"Bring her back!" I shouted desperately, clawing at the puddle. The shimmering liquid just went right through my fingers. "What happened? Bring her back!"

"Don't you see?" the god lamented. "There was no 'she'. What you saw was an automaton of my own creation. It was only me. Me always pulling the strings, me disguised, me raising you, me caring for you, it was me. Me, me, me!"

The word automaton was ringing in my ears like the alarm clock pulling me from a dream I never wanted to wake up from.

There was nothing I could say back. My reflection stared back at me with hollow, reddened eyes and a slackened jaw.

I couldn't bear to look at myself any longer, and instead my eyes trailed over to the god slumped on the floor. I looked upon him with dry eyes, and it felt like it was for the first time. His face was bloody, bruised, and battered. Chains as black as the cell confining him were clasped tightly at his ankles. The eyes that were once so bright and full of life were nothing more than a dim undertone. His clothes were tattered and blood stained, nothing like the regality he had about him the last time we were face to face. His beautiful golden hair was matted with blood and dirt and had lost its luxurious shine. His once neatly trimmed golden beard was now long and scraggly. The great god Anastasios was no more.

My voice was that of a croak. "What's happened to you?"

To my surprise, the god chuckles, but it is dark and hollow, nothing like the hearty laugh that once reverberated through my mind. "What hasn't? War. . Gaea. . her giants. ." He might've continued, but he broke into a horrendous coughing fit that echoed down the hallways.

I swallowed hard, and my next words came out like a whisper. "Can gods die?"

Anastasios looked away and evaded my question. "Do you still have the ring that I gave you on your birthday?" My fingers immediately wrapped around the golden band on my left hand. I tried to take it off, but it wouldn't budge. "Leave it be," he said. "It is a piece of me."

"A piece of you?" I echoed.

"Yes. As long as you keep it safe, Gaea and her giants cannot kill me."

I pursed my lips, looking across his wounds once more. "But they can still hurt you." I gripped the jet black bars and yanked violently. "Just hold on. I-I'm gonna get you out of here. Just gotta- hurk- put some elbow grease into it and-"

"It's no use," he muttered. "This is my punishment."

"Punishment?"

"My father, Zeus, wanted to keep me hidden away from the other gods," Anastasios said. "Even after I had proved my worth, he never cast me into the light or told the other deities about my existence. He always said 'Mt. Olympus wasn't ready for me yet.'" He gave a wry smile. "But I never listened. I wanted to see the outside world. I wanted to experience things. I was no princess, I was a mighty warrior- so I didn't want to be locked away in a tower like one."

"Did you run away?" I asked.

"I did," he replied. "Back around the time that Jesus fellow was popular. Around that age, the Greek and Roman gods had long since fallen out of the spotlight. It was easy for me to make my escape, to slip away unnoticed. I ran free for centuries with no one to hold me back."

I could sense a listlessness in his voice. "And then what happened?"

"I met your mother."

The air escaped my lungs, and my whole body tingled with alertness.

My mom?

I watched as Anastasios's eyes glazed over like he was reliving a distant memory. "Aye," he murmured. "Her name was Ruby. She was the most driven woman that I have ever met in all my years. She was beautiful, like nothing you've ever seen- and oh, her wit! She could cut you to pieces with only her words. And she had the most alluring light blue eyes. The color of. ." his gaze focused back on me. "The color of periwinkle."

My heart grew heavy, and I wondered if it would fall right out of my body then. I wanted to freeze time. I wanted to absorb everything my father was telling me, but at the same time reject it all- especially the emotions I felt as I realized he had spoke in the past tense.

"Anastasios," I said evenly, "is my mom dead?"

"Yes and no." He spoke with no emotion. "The Ruby I once knew, the Ruby who birthed you, the Ruby I fell in love with, she is dead. But the woman who looks just like Ruby is alive. That is why I am bound here before you. Because I refused to let her die."

There was silence, and my brows furrowed in confusion. I could tell that Anastasios was weighing how he should respond.

He scratched at the ebony floor tiles. "You are my first born child, but not the first conceived. In the past, each time a mortal woman carried a child of mine, she and the baby were killed by the power held within the fetus. When your mother became pregnant, I promised myself that I wouldn't allow the same thing to happen."

Anastasios's scratching on the tile became more insistent. "I also promised Gaea." His voice shook a little. "I made a deal with Gaea. My life in exchange for that of yours and your mother's. The Earth Mother herself swore on the River Styx to never harm her, but your mother has no memory of either of us."

A pain grew on my temple, and I frowned hard at the ground with clenched fists. "Then why. . ? Then how come. . ? But Gram said-"

"Don't you get it?" Anastasios snapped, frustration and hurt laced in his voice. "There was no Gram! There was no old woman who raised you. It was me! For fifteen years I raised you. In secret, in disguise, in hiding. I was always there. Even when you didn't realize it was me, I was always there. I never wanted you to feel neglected and unloved as I did."

Teardrops fell upon the ebony floor tiles, and there was no disguising it now, not with the cracks in my voice and the hiccups and the pain. "Then why now? Why now after all these years are you telling me all of this? Why now is Gaea imprisoning you? Why now?!"

"Gaea promised me fifteen years, and then she would kill me as atonement. However. ."

"The ring," I whispered, twisting the shining band around my finger. "So this is all my fault then."

Anastasios's chains clinked as he moved quickly to grasp the cell bars and face me. "No. No, this is not your fault. It is I who made these decisions. I forbid you from harming yourself over things you cannot control. This is my doing. And this is my punishment."

I clenched my fists tightly as tears hit the floor like bombs. I wanted to scream. I wanted to hit something. My whole body ached with a rage aimed at no one and everyone at the same time. It just wasn't fair.

A ripple appeared in the small pool of tears forming on the ground around me, and I realized there was a thundering coming from above. The floor trembled like a small army was storming down the hallway in my dream. The corners of my vision blurred and began to fade away. I was waking.

Anastasios's head snapped up. He gripped the black bars and winced. "There isn't much time."

"Time for what?" I demanded.

He reached for my arm and pressed something cold and hard into my palm, enclosing my fingers around it so I couldn't make out what it was. "Hide it," Anastasios said urgently. "Keep it safe. Keep it protected. Keep it close."

The crashing footsteps became louder, closer.

I slipped the item into my jeans pocket, glinting metal peeking out at me. "What's this? What's it for? What's happening?"

"You ask too many questions," Anastasios said, rubbing his hands together. A faint golden glow flickered to life in his palms.

"That's because you answer none of them." I shot back, wiping my wet cheeks.

The temperature in the room seemed to drop twenty degrees, and the footsteps sounded closer than ever. I didn't want to face what would come around that corner.

Anastasios chuckled quietly, surprising me in a moment like this. "You are just like your mother. Strong, tenacious, and mouthy to boot. Never lose that." The golden light in his hand intensified, and he held it out to me. "Grab my hand, quickly, and you'll wake up. Your friends need you. The world needs you."

I thought about everything that he said to me, everything that he told me, all that I needed to remember. I had shed many tears in this place. I had experienced many emotions.

swallowed hard and forced a determined look on my face. "I'm going to find my mom, Dad, and I'm going to save her." His golden eyes flickered to life then, if even for a brief second, and air escaped his lungs. I let one more tear slip past my lashes, but this was one of bravery.

"I'm going to save us all."

I grabbed his hand firmly, and there was a burst of blinding, golden light. And then there was nothing but darkness.