A/N: I own nothing but plot. Enjoy!
Mt. Olympus, home of the gods.
The white marbled acropolis sat below the main peak of the mountain range. With steps leading up the side of the peak, the main palace was lit up by glowing fires in bronze braziers and reflected the surrounding starlight in the sky. Dozens of smaller pavilions and gazebos dotted the mountain areas below before all fading into a circle of clouds below. The clouds and Mist served as a barrier between the humans and the gods. Should any human look up at the peak, all they saw were wisps of clouds and the tips of the peaks poking through the white.
Meanwhile, in the white marble walls of the acropolis, minor gods, satyrs, and nymphs danced about as the Muses played their lyres and sang. The smell of freshly brewed nectar and baked ambrosia permeated the clean streets.
None of the majestic beauty of the palace of the gods fazed Percy. He was a relatively young god, but over the years the majestic sight had dulled in his senses.
He stood at the door to the main hall of the Olympian Gods, half-listening to their annual War Council meeting.
"The prisoners are still bound in their chains," Hephaestus informed the council with his gruff voice. He had been tasked to ensure that the prisons he made were still in functioning order.
"I could have told you that, my errant brother," Ares complained. "I would have sniffed out any Titan that dare to have even a thought of escape."
Athena tapped her fingers on her throne impatiently. "But the truth remains that they are still thrashing about, stirring their minions to harass the mortals. Their consciousness permeates the humans' dreams and turns them towards darkness."
"Weaklings." Ares snorted. "Both in mind and body."
"Yes, you would know quite much about being weak in the mind," muttered Athena under her breath.
Percy's thoughts flew elsewhere as the gods argued among themselves. Year after year, everything was the same.
As his father's lieutenant, Percy accompanied Poseidon on his official duties to Mt. Olympus. Otherwise, Percy wanted nothing to do with the gods. He didn't even spend much time in the sea, preferring to wander the lands, despite being a minor sea god.
He never wanted to be a god in the first place.
"Our policy is to remain away from humans." Zeus boomed. "And we shall keep to it. If any mortal succumbs to the Titans' allure, then it is all the best of our interest to eliminate such sinning mortals. That includes our own children."
"But Father!" Athena protested.
A vein on Hera's temple twitched. It was no secret that Zeus often broke the sanctimony of their marriage and had fathered many spawn on the earth.
The gods took up their arguing again. Percy's mind wandered away again.
Soon, the Olympian gods adjourned their annual winter meeting. Zeus called for the Muses, and a symphony of lyres, harps, and pan flutes rang out. Other gods flooded into the hall and began dancing as the winter banquet began.
Percy's sight landed on a god sitting before the twelve thrones. The god exuded darkness with his midnight black chiton and linen cloak woven out of nightmares. Here and there, a tortured soul would try to escape, but the magical bounds of fabric would hold it in place.
As if feeling Percy's gaze, Hades turned his head. Percy nodded politely to his uncle but made no further move to greet him. Percy had stopped that approach nearly two decades ago.
The only way a god could enter another's realm was through invitation, and Hades would not invite any of his relatives aside from his wife and Demeter into the Underworld. Were Percy still a demigod, he could have ventured into the Underworld freely, even if it led to his death. At least death was welcome.
But alas, that choice had been taken from him. No matter how much Percy pleaded and would have thrown away his pride to fawn, Hades would not let Percy into the realm of ghosts. Hades hated the spawn of his brothers and even denied Percy any news on the status of a single soul.
Percy exited the palace, feeling the cheerful music harsh on his ears. The cool night air cleared some of the fogginess in his mind.
Up in the sky twinkled the constellations of Andromeda and Perseus, the son of Zeus whom Percy's mother had named Percy after in hopes that he would have a happy ending. Perhaps Percy's mother would consider her son becoming a god would be a happy ending. But Percy had not felt much joy for nearly a century.
He envied his cousin Perseus and Andromeda, running together in the sky in everlasting union. At least that Perseus could die.
If Percy could die, then he could at least join her in the Underworld.
Have the preparations been prepared properly? The voice boomed through.
Yes. A second voice answered, a hint of hesitation just barely concealed.
The dull filtered light could not permeate through the murkiness.
Then it is time. Send her.
"A sacrifice must be made in return for the weapon to be imbued with the power to kill a god."
"A sacrifice?" She looked up at the female voice that came through the glittering light. "What kind of sacrifice must we make?"
"One that is pure of heart and without the taint of evil and selfishness." The voice was as soothing as the waves caressing the beach at night.
Though in the dream, her gaze was focused on the light, from the corner of her eyes, she could see the evening sky peek from between the pillars of the temple. Where was she? What temple was this?
The surroundings blurred until she was standing in darkness. But she was sure she was not alone.
"Please, I do not want to do this." Her voice begged.
"You have no choice. You are of my brethren, my own flesh and blood." Even in a dream, she could feel some sort of ancient power blasting through her. If she had a corporal body, then she would have disintegrated a long time ago from the forceful power than ran through her.
The dream shifted once more, and she was running as fast as she could in the dark forest. One of her sandals had already been ripped off of her feet, and her bare foot was now bloodied from stepping on sharp rocks and twigs.
"Run faster! We must not lose our way!"
There was a companion beside her, tugging at her hands to lead her through the forest. Something lunged at her and she screamed as she felt claws pierce deep into her shoulder. She fell to the ground as warm fluid leaked through her back. But her other hand gripped an object and smashed it into the monster. The monster's luminous green eyes glowed in hatred as she struck it. Then its sharp jaws snapped down at her throat.
Annabeth woke up with a start, clutching her throat.
"Get up, Annabeth. The sun is about to rise." The grating voice spoke again. "Are you up now?"
"Yes, madam."
Annabeth pushed herself up from her bed. Retreating footsteps told her the head matron of the servants had walked away.
The dawn had yet to rise. She rubbed her shoulder where the monster in the dream had clawed her. The phantom pain had long vanished once the dream turned into reality, but she couldn't help but feel that the dream was so life-like.
But the dawn was waiting, and she had somehow overslept, perhaps due to the nightmare. Usually, Annabeth liked rising early to sneak to the library and read for a while before starting the day's chores. She pushed herself up and got ready for the day.
The rest of the archon's household, save for the archon and his family, were already buzzing about. Annabeth grabbed a hunk of freshly baked bread from a basket in the kitchen and slipped out before anyone could see her steal the food. Had she not, she would have suffered to eat stale bread or last year's dried fruits with the rest of the servants. The drought affecting the town did not apply to the archon household, who still ate lavishly.
She had been found as a baby in the ruins of a temple by the archon, the leader of this seaside town called Pegai. Feeling pity for the abandoned baby, the archon took her back to Pegai and then gifted her to one of his childless servants to raise. For the first twelve years of her life, Annabeth was raised by a tutor to the archon's children. When the tutor passed away, Annabeth ended up a servant in the archon household.
Annabeth supposed it could be worse, living in this small village by the sea. She could have starved as a defenseless baby or succumbed to some wild creature. Here, she could at least save up her meager wages and perhaps one day leave this village soon. Most other women her age were already married with one or two children by now but at age twenty, she had not been wed off by the archon. Perhaps, it was because she was an orphan and had no dowry to offer any future suitors.
That was fine by her. She intended to leave here before someone took notice of her.
"Annabeth!"
Annabeth hurriedly shoved the bread piece into the folds of her robe and turned to the matron. "Yes, madam?"
"An orphan like you taking food from the family that fed and kept you alive all these years." The matron shook her head and clicked her throat. Despite the matron's words, the matron tossed Annabeth a large juicy fig and a straw basket. "Well, you might as well take this with you. The lady wants to eat some mussels. Go down and pull some off the rocks. Get the biggest ones now!"
"Yes, madam. Thanks for the fig!"
"Oh, shoo, you!"
Annabeth ducked her head and tried not to attract too much attention from the other villagers as she walked through the village. She had been harassed by the archon's son before. To this day, the archon's son, Leitus, refused to say who had given him a black eye three years ago, for his pride would not let him.
However, this meant that Annabeth had been subjected to more harassment. For the sake of the archon taking her in, she did not strive to give Leitus another black eye to match the first, but she did improve in her abilities to avoid anyone she did not want to particularly meet.
As Annabeth walked towards the sea, she couldn't help but feel a piercing gaze on her. She looked back at the village but saw no one looking at her, just the villagers going about the start of a normal day. Despite the warm summer morning, a shiver ran up her spine.
Perhaps it was just the realistic nightmare that had shaken her up. Still, her nerves would not settle down. Something about the day seemed...off. Annabeth looked once more before sprinting towards the sea.
Watching her figure become smaller and smaller, a figure stepped out from behind a tree, fingering a sheathed dagger at his hip.
A/N:
archon = chief magistrate, or a leader of a village
If you've read the original, scrub it from your memory as this rewritten version is quite different. Hopefully, this version will be better since my writing style has changed (hopefully for the better) throughout the years. I apologize for the hiatus, I am but a mere mortal after all. Let's see how far I get before I return to classes.
As always, enjoy!