Misery's Smile Chapter 13
By Art and Rinne
Beta-ed by December Sapphire
Hello fellas, how are you? It's time to take you on another ride with me, aye? Well, I suggest you bring some bacon and cheese nachos as we delve into the latest chapter of Misery's Smile :-)
'Beware of the Shadow in the Night, for he hunts you. His name is Amauros, and he is of the darkness.'
The warning kept ringing in Perseus' mind, as he continued pushing the exhausted looking demigods. As his nervousness grew, Perseus became more relentless in his training methods, effectively exhausting even Aita, though the son of Hades was very subtle in showing it.
Chiron watched in a deep expression as Perseus dismissed his demigods. This had to stop now.
"Perseus, what in Tartarus is happening? You could have killed those demigods! They are not Primordial younglings!" Chiron reprimanded firmly, as Perseus turned his head.
Perseus' expression was like nothing Chiron had seen before. The old centaur was taken aback as he observed the man's face. Perseus was usually confident, and even arrogant in his prose and posture. This time though, it was completely opposite. Perseus was shaking, and his eyes were filled with uncharacteristic nervousness. A look of regret started to fill his expression, while a bead of sweat started to roll down his forehead.
"Just what is wrong, Perseus?" Chiron asked again, as Perseus shook his head quickly.
"Nothing… Nothing is wrong, old man. I have my purposes for doing this," Perseus gave an icy look, before he quickly left for the Big House.
Chiron shook his head at Perseus' figure. The young Primordial was hiding something, and it was clear he was deeply troubled by it.
Perseus was not afraid – far from that, in fact. Besides, he had known about Amauros hunting him for a long time, even before Lykos told him. The echoes the Shadow left behind in the Night were too powerful to ignore. Not to mention the constant probe trying to penetrate the barrier that Perseus forged.
However, what made Perseus uneasy was the fact that he knew absolutely nothing about his new adversary. All he knew was the Shadow's former name, and he was the son of Erebus. Even though that explained the power behind the echoes of darkness, it did not explain the whispers 'Amauros' brought with him into the world. Furthermore, no matter how Perseus tried, he could never find any records of the Shadow. He even asked the Primordials, but they didn't know the answer.
Another thing that made him uneasy was the fact he was deeply worried about the demigods. Though he was confident in the barrier, the probe was getting stronger. Not to mention that according to what Lykos had said, the darkness from the echoes were starting to indirectly cause strife between the great city-states of Greece, namely Athens and Sparta.
If there was something Perseus did not want, it was divided loyalties within the Camp. After all, the camp did consist of a few Spartans, and even more Athenians. It was one of the reasons why Perseus made their training especially harsh, and forced them to work together as he gave them exceedingly difficult challenges.
Perseus had also noticed another thing, as he polished the midnight black blade of Night. The Shadow was growing in power. The subtle attacks were now starting to dent the barrier, while the echoes grew more powerful. The whispers had grown even more silent, as the Night started to darken. Though Perseus could easily repair the barrier to render Amauros' efforts futile, it didn't stop him from being more uneasy.
He knew something was going to happen, with the imminent war between the Athenians and the alliance that Sparta had formed with other city-states of Greece looming. The burning of Delphi had also added to Perseus' suspicions – he was aware of a spirit of the Fates supposedly being kept in that place. Amauros' growing power seemed to follow all these events.
It was all going too fast, and Perseus was confident it was no coincidence. The Shadow was moving, and the Primordial knew he needed to be ready to protect his demigods.
Apollo's children continued to toil as they treated the wounds of the other demigods, who just recovered from the beat down Perseus gave them. Apparently, there was a fight instigated by a son of Ares and his companions, but Perseus brutally put a stop to it. As punishment for the act of indiscipline, the whole Camp was forced to undergo extreme combat training under Perseus – including Chiron's batch of demigods.
Though, Perseus did allow them to stop – if they fell unconscious. Needless to say, when it stopped, the whole group of demigods were exhausted, with at least half of them unconscious. The Apollo children who managed to survive the training conscious were tasked to heal some of the exhausted demigods.
"The Camp must be united, especially with the inevitable war looming. Athens has given a challenge they cannot take back. And I fear for the demigods if they do leave the barrier to fight. My kin tell me that the monsters have multiplied, and something is calling for them," Chiron muttered, with a dark tone.
Perseus nodded quietly, as he observed the young children being treated with nectar and ambrosia. His gaze caught the figure of Aita, who appeared exhausted, but totally unaffected by the sheer brutality of the training. Though there were other demigods who also managed to shrug off the effects, the son of Hades had managed to do it with a nonchalance that could almost have been seen as contempt.
"Chiron?" Perseus called.
"Yes?" Chiron raised his eyebrow, as he saw Perseus' focused gaze on Aita.
"It's nothing," Perseus' eyes remained focused on the young Spartan, earning a questioning, yet knowing look from the older trainer.
The day passed by quickly as Perseus watched the demigods recover from their training, while Chiron taught them about the world, and the mundane things within it. At least, that was how Perseus saw it. Chiron seemed to think it was necessary, though.
As Perseus walked around towards the lake at midnight, he could hear only silence – which was something he hadn't heard in a long time. Recently, he would usually hear dark whispers in the breeze, and the constant rustling of leaves. It was one word – peaceful.
However, there was something the young Lord noticed. It was the fact that the night seemed darker than usual, and it was cold. It made him narrow his eyes, as he saw the clouds cover the moon, leaving the land in near pitch-black darkness.
Then, he heard movement. A rustle of leaves and a scratching sound. Perseus suddenly felt worried, and drew his sword. The edge of the black blade seemed to glint as Perseus walked quietly towards the sound, with his black cloak billowing in the wind. His yellow eyes gleamed as he readied to strike – only to find Aita leaning on a tree, sketching with a charcoal stick.
Perseus sheathed his sword, but he kept his deadly glare, "Aita, Son of Hades. You should be resting."
"Master Perseus," Aita regarded politely, before going back to his work.
Perseus almost sighed, but held firm, "Did you not hear me, demigod?"
Aita seemed to ignore the Primordial, as he stared out into the distance. His dark eyes seemed to glaze as he spoke, "The night seems darker than before."
"Indeed it is. Now answer my question, Aita. Do you not have a cabin?" Perseus raised his voice ever so subtly, and Aita finally sighed.
"My father, Hades, is no Olympian. The Cabins are only built in the honor of the Council – not those outside of it," Aita explained.
"It looks like there is going to be a betrayal coming, after all," Perseus remarked sardonically, as he thought about the blatant discrimination the Gods were showing.
Surprisingly enough, the child of Hades let out a small laugh, before he continued to portray the landscape of the lake with that stick of charcoal. Perseus had to admit – the child indeed had talent. But what intrigued Perseus, was the fact that throughout the few weeks, where the ruthless trainer pushed his batch of demigods to their limits, Aita never showed fear or hesitance; he took it all with stride.
"Do you not fear me, Child of Hades? I am one of the lords of the Pit, and am perfectly capable of destroying you with a flick of my finger," Perseus rumbled, as his yellow eyes glowed.
Aita seemed to shake a little, before he quickly regained himself, and answered,. "My father governs the domain of the Underworld and the souls within it... As such, I see death all the time. Why should I fear something that is natural, Lord Perseus?"
Perseus looked at him with a questioning look, as Aita continued.
"Everything dies one day, immortal or not. I think this is a blessing bestowed upon us by the Lady of Destiny, Ananke, quite honestly. To outlast everything, to endure the ages and troubles alone, it would just make life awfully meaningless, wouldn't it, Lord Perseus?" Aita finished, as he laid down the final stroke of his charcoal to finish his artwork.
Aita waited for a reply, but was surprised when he saw Perseus' yellow eyes glaze over. It was clear that Aita's question had struck a nerve within the Primordial, who although was powerful and centuries old, was still a young man with a troubled heart. While the Primordial would easily dodge and ridicule such a statement, he found himself unable to. He regained his composure as he remembered the promises he had yet to fulfill.
Gathering himself, Perseus replied with an even tone, "I am immortal and have many favors I have yet to take. I have no reason to die, or fade."
Aita's dark eyes seemed to glaze over for a moment, as Perseus studied him deeply. The boy had clearly been through much grief, and was searching for a purpose. It was something he saw in many lost souls that had wandered aimlessly into Tartarus. The cold, blank, yet lost expression.
"You have lost someone important, haven't you?" Perseus folded his arms, as he stared at the son of Hades.
"… A long time ago, yes," Aita mumbled, as his voice seemed to crack a little.
"What happened?" Perseus asked with a firm commanding voice – something Aita was probably no stranger to, judging from how he flinched.
Aita seemed to debate with himself, before he grimaced and submitted, "My brother was dishonoured in battle, a long time ago. He was branded a coward by the Council. And when a Spartan is branded as a coward, he and his family are shunned forever. My brother couldn't take this humiliation, and so he took his own life."
Perseus knew there was probably more to Aita's past, but decided not to press.
"So, you were lost. Where did you go?" Perseus asked, though this time, he softened his voice.
"I do not know. I just travelled away in the shadows… And with the Fates' grace, it led me to Chiron, somehow. Sons of Hades, like I am are usually shunned. Yet, he took me in without discrimination, and trained me with the others," Aita mumbled, as mist started to cloud over the lake.
Perseus raised an eyebrow, before he left for the Big House. Aita seemed slightly surprised, as he watched the Primordial.
"Where… Where are you going?" For a moment, Perseus could actually hear uncertainty and genuine confusion in Aita's voice, and it caused him to stop in his tracks.
"Perhaps you are just a naïve boy. I am going back. It is obvious that I cannot convince you to return to your cabin. But I would still suggest that you rest, because I will increase the intensity for the training tomorrow," Perseus told, before he took the silence as a signal for him to continue.
"About the Fates… The Fates should have left you to wander in the shadows – they should be afraid of what you just might become under my guidance."
And if Perseus looked back, he would have caught Aita's face full of shock.
Apollo threw aside the beautiful naked woman laying on him, as he chugged down a jug of wine. The priestess awakened with her glazed eyes, as the Sun God's guilt began to grow.
"I'm sorry," Apollo muttered, before he sent the dazed woman back into her temple with a flick of his fingers.
He could only remind himself that it was to forget what had transpired, and that it wasn't his fault that all of this was happening.
Basically, Artemis had cut off her ties with her twin. He was dead to Artemis, ever since he released the arrow that killed Orion. Their relationship since, had gone from bad to worse, and Artemis' hatred of men gradually grew deeper.
The sun god had found it ironic and depressing. In return for protecting Artemis' honour and modesty, he was rewarded with his sister's hatred. He could never forget her face of absolute anger and disappointment when she found out it was Apollo's arrow that took Orion's life. Ever since then, it was only silence, as Artemis never deigned to speak to her brother.
Apollo sighed, as he drank another mouthful of wine. The pain in his chest never really faded, while the emptiness he felt in his mind never seemed to fill. Not to mention the most recent situation which had affected him deeply.
His Oracle was taken, and the attacker had burned down the city of Delphi., bBut the spirit was nowhere to be found. Not to mention a certain cold feeling as he searched the burned remains of the city for the spirit.
On a certain goddess' counsel, Zeus had declared him responsible over his carelessness in protecting the spirit of Delphi, and effectively blinding the Olympians to the Great Prophecy. Needless to say, Apollo was heavily shunned after that incident, and in fact, the only things really holding him together, was his friendship with Perseus and the promise he made to protect Artemis.
Suddenly, three voices spoke in unison, catching Apollo by surprise.
'Do not fear, seer. The spirit is but a messenger. However, Phoebus Apollo, you have the true gift of Prophecy.'
The world seemed to twist, as Apollo continued to listen to the daughters of Ananke.
'The Olympians are foolish, while the Shadow is cunning. The sons of Olympians will stop him. Of that, there is no doubt. However, he blocks our Voice, the Spirit of Delphi, to draw out the Son of Misery to complete his revenge without invoking our will – something we must not allow. Olympus must not be blind, and Fate must run its course. We are indeed underestimated, and will act.'
Apollo seemed to shudder for a moment, before he spoke in a snake-like voice
"The Shadow shall emerge in chains
To pursue a revenge in vain
The dishonoured hero will rise
The dark taint of the Shadow he shall slice
He shall regain his honour
But return to his domain sooner"
The world seemed to darken even further as he came back to his senses, and the Fates started to withdraw from his mind. A sense of dark foreshadowing clouded his thoughts, as Apollo received the last orders that the Fates had issued, which was to relay the prophecy personally to the 'sons of Olympus'.
For now though, he simply didn't care, as he took another mouthful of wine to dull the pain he felt.
(Deep in Tartarus…)
Lykos had reverted to his blue, spectral form as he tried to meditate. However, he found himself struggling to concentrate as the goddesses continued to argue over the situation of the Shadow. Amauros' reemergence had left them immensely worried, over the last few days, to the point of panic.
Akhlys especially, grew even more frantic as Nyx returned to update them about the situation in the earth above. The whispers were growing silent, and the Night was getting darker, which meant Amauros was growing free of his chains, and growing stronger. Lord Tartarus had told him once that the Shadow was a force to be reckoned with, even at full strength, which concerned him a little.
Though he had confidence in Perseus to stop this threat somehow, he never could ignore the sense of doubt that seeded in his heart.
However, Lykos could not help but wonder – Why now? Why would the Shadow strike now, of all times, when Perseus was arguably entering his prime and extremely powerful? There had to be a deeper reason, and while Lykos did not want to show it, he was concerned. There was something else in play here – and it made the wolf uneasy. The tension in the room did nothing to allay his doubts. He slowly left his meditation as he overheard the conversation between the goddesses.
The room seemed to be darker than usual, as Akhlys unwittingly flared her power.
"What of Erebus! What if Amauros awakens him?!" Akhlys shouted, as the room darkened even further at the mention of the name.
"He is not so foolish as to awaken my husband, Akhlys. Also, we would have known immediately if Erebus had awoken. His sheer power and presence are too colossal to ignore. Also, that is not part of the Fates decree," Nyx reasoned, though she could not shake the uneasiness out of her voice.
"I do not like this," Akhlys paced across the room, and as she continued bluntly, "The Olympians do not stand a chance against the Shadow, especially after being weakened from to consecutive great battles. The Daughters of Ananke are mistaken – heavily mistaken if they think Amauros cares about their will."
"Mistaken or not, it was Ananke and Lord Chaos who directly gave them their gift of weaving the threads of Fate, and it is no small power that can be simply 'mistaken'," Nyx noted, before she continued.
"However, you are right;, there is much we do not know. I sense something, or someone might be directly helping the Shadow. Besides, there was no way he could have escaped that prison alone."
Lykos couldn't help but agree. There were some spots where he felt two signatures of power – different, yet similar, almost as if –
"Son. The Shadow has a son. It is most likely so," Lykos added his input.
"Nyctos…" Nyx trailed off, as Akhlys raised an eyebrow, and her yellow eyes started blazing.
The Misery Goddess was livid – Nyx was supposed to finish off the boy.
"Did you not finish him off?!" Akhlys asked darkly.
"He was only a child, I-"Nyx started to stammer, before she was cut off.
"It was the order of Lord Chaos himself! And you have defied him! Did you not forget your duty as a First-Born, as a Primordial?!" Akhlys questioned ruthlessly.
Nyx grew paler, as she spoke, "I… I…"
"You put my son in grave danger because of needless and foolish remorse. Did you not remember when that child laid waste to an army of immortals?!" Akhlys' yellow eyes blazed, and the room started to shake.
Before it could get worse, Lykos drew his sword and quickly got between the goddesses.
"Arguing over what happened millennia ago will not help Perseus' cause, Lady Akhlys," Lykos firmly said, as Akhlys started to calm down.
Though, her glare still did not leave.
"I will go to Gaia's realm, and provide my services to Perseus, on my own accord. If what you say is true, and Nyctos is alive, Perseus' danger might possibly be twofold," Lykos said, before he turned his head towards Nyx, who looked to have a tinge of regret on her face.
"With all due respect, My Lady… As you have told me millennia ago – feelings have no place in our duty," Lykos chastised, before he continued in an even, yet soothing voice, "Rest assured, Lady Akhlys, Lady Nyx, I will do everything in my power to aid Perseus."
With a wave of his hand, and a small rustling sound, Lykos left for the world above, leaving a silently incensed Akhlys, and a heavily worried Nyx.
Though, Akhlys couldn't help but curl a lip, "Not bad, Lykos... Not on our orders, indeed."
(At Camp...)
A sigh could be heard, as Perseus toiled through the paperwork that had yet to be finished and sent over to Chiron. It was something the old centaur had never told him about when he pushed some of the duties over to Perseus. Normally, the old Primordial would be displeased and easily take it up with Chiron, but he would only be met with an effortless retort.
"You promised to do it," Chiron would say, and Perseus would be rendered quiet.
Perseus continued to grumble as he finished the report of each demigod he was managing. At least until the air seemed to change, and close in. Suddenly, a huge force rocked the barrier, and it echoed across the camp. Summoning his power, Perseus quickly reinforced the dented barrier, as he quickly looked for the source of the strike.
Finding it, Perseus quickly caught the retreating probe of shadow, before he was suddenly warped into some kind of subconscious. It was dark, and with the familiar metallic, stale smell, almost like stagnant, ancient air mixed with blood. It was the smell of the Deep Tartarus – where the most powerful immortals were imprisoned. They were immortals who were locked away personally by the First-Born on the orders of Lord Chaos himself. It was here that Perseus had recognized that he had found the Shadow himself.
As Perseus walked deeper, he could see the runes of sealing within the dark place, but they appeared to be fading away. The place became darker as Perseus walked deeper, and the smell started to disappear. Soon enough, it was pitch-black, and completely silent.
Suddenly, the ground disappeared, as Perseus slowly lost all feeling, though he knew he was fully conscious. It was like a silent, empty dream. Yet, it felt like a dark nightmare, as Perseus firmly reined in his sanity, and quickly spoke to himself to convince himself of his consciousness. The son of Akhlys could have sworn he heard a silent chuckle through the darkness.
Using what Tartarus had taught him, Perseus steadied his breathing to gather himself, focusing his power deep within him. Then, he let it out in one quick movement. His sight seemed to clear, and the darkness faded slightly. Perseus could smell the air, and he felt himself standing straight on the ground, with his hands firmly folded.
All of a sudden, a Shadow moved across the plain of darkness. A haunting voice seemed to sing soft tune, almost as if soothing someone awoken from a nightmare. While a silent breeze blew, a strange pressure suddenly manifested. The dark tune stopped and a deep humming sounded, but only this time, it was louder.
"The Shadow," Perseus finally spoke, as a chuckle sounded in the dark.
It was finally completely silent, as the moving shadows slowly joined, revealing a shape of a cloaked man. Perseus had to rein in a look of horror, as he observed the man's face – or rather – a lack of a face. It was simply a cloudy shade of black.
"Perseus, we finally meet. It appears that Lord Tartarus has taught you well," Amauros' soft voice sounded as if it was coming from everywhere.
Perseus stayed silent. Still, his yellow eyes glowed, as if to regard the son of Darkness.
"You, who are the son of Misery, who is one of the truly great First-Borns, and one of the bastions of Darkness… Indeed, I find myself disappointed," Amauros' voice mocked, but Perseus paid no heed to it.
"There is no mistaking that you are indeed powerful – it is no small feat to resist the Nightmare in such a way – but you are weak. Your blind loyalty to the ones you deem precious to you is indeed humorous. For a Primordial Lord, you act like a mortal… "The Shadow sounded amused.
Perseus raised an eyebrow, "What exactly do you want, Amauros?"
Suddenly, the surroundings seemed to grow darker and colder, as the Shadow's voice started to feel like drops of lead.
"Vengeance," Amauros rumbled, as a shade of darkness engulfed him.
"And?" Perseus asked, before he was suddenly flung away by a powerful blast of darkness.
"Such arrogance! You're just like your parent. Do not think of yourself so significantly. You are but a pawn — a strong start, if you will — to a game I will be playing with the First-Born who condemned me to punishment for millennia," Amauros paused for a moment, before he continued, "They have been in rule long enough. And I will start with you. The decree of the Fates means nothing to me."
Perseus stood up, and let out a controlled blast of power to force Amauros' hold away from him.
"You can try," Perseus challenged evenly, as Amauros let out a laugh.
"Tartarus has indeed trained you well, young one. However, how will you contend with me? I had Akhlys at my mercy, while all you did was to mope for a traitorous, and weak immortal," Amauros taunted, as Perseus narrowed his yellow eyes.
The son of Akhlys gritted his teeth in anger, before he quickly controlled his expression.
"Yet, you were defeated and imprisoned by the same goddess," Perseus retorted bluntly, earning a small growl from the Shadow, before he continued, "And I will do the same, should you lay a finger to anyone."
The Shadow seemed to stall for a moment, before his amused deep voice sounded, "A blind pawn like you should not speak such big words. You know not the true meaning of emptiness… No matter. We will meet again, young son of Misery."
Suddenly, the world warped, and Perseus found himself in a standing position, by the lake with Chiron looking at him concernedly.
"Is everything alright? You were like this for hours, and no one could rouse you," Chiron told, earning a small sigh from Perseus.
"I will tell you the details later… For now, I have a few things to –" Perseus answered, before he was suddenly cut off by something bumbling into his back.
Perseus wanted to shout to punish the demigods, only to notice familiar blond hair, and the quiver of golden arrows. The stink of alcohol was clear in the air, as Perseus gathered himself to observe his friend. He looked absolutely terrible, with a strange white stain on his hunting pouch, mussed up hair, and the bags under his eyes. To say nothing of the dried tear tracks on his face, and the obvious pain hidden under the visage of drunkenness.
Apollo looked absolutely frantic, as his eyes madly moved around. It took a while for Perseus to steady him.
"The... The F-Fates have decreed," Apollo coughed out. Perseus motioned him to continue.
Apollo recited the prophecy that the Fates had given him.
"…. He shall return to his domain sooner…"
Soon after, Apollo recited that line, Perseus suddenly stood and tugged at Apollo's shirt.
"You lie!" Perseus raised his voice in anger, as his shoulders started to shake.
"The Fates have decreed," Apollo repeated himself, as Perseus loosened his hold.
Perseus clenched his fists tightly, as he mulled over the prophecy. He took a look at the cabins, and could only sigh in frustration. He was supposed to protect the demigods, not send them to their deaths!
"You must send a son of Olympus, Perseus. Lady Ananke's power of Destiny has been invoked, and there is no avoiding it now. While you, a Primordial, is only subject to the will of Lord Chaos and Lady Ananke, the Fates have a hold over anything lesser, including demigods," Apollo reasoned with a slurred voice.
There was a pause, as Perseus struggled to make a decision. Chiron stepped forward to speak, only to be stopped by the Primordial.
"… Very well. But know this, Apollo. I will interfere directly – if need be. There is one demigod that I have in mind – a son of Hades, and Sparta. I will… I-"
"We will relay to him the decision of the Fates," Chiron said in a calming voice, earning a thankful nod from the immortal.
The Primordial was extremely uneasy about the situation. While he knew that the Fates were directly blessed by Ananke, with the power to weave the thread of Fate on the Realm of Gaia, the Shadow himself said he did not care for the Fates' decrees. However, what Chiron said seemed to calm down the frantic Apollo. Chiron then left, though Perseus could see the barely hidden discontent on his face – it was clear that the old trainer had dreaded and hated this.
Perseus quickly took a look at Apollo, before he sighed, "You cannot keep doing this to yourself, Apollo."
"I'm the Lord of Medicine," Apollo winked, before he flashed away.
Perseus brought a hand to his forehead, as he glared at the moon, which shone in the distance. The moon seemed to intensify, as if to glare back, but Perseus would have none of that. Focusing his power, the immortal projected his thoughts.
'Are you proud now, Phoebe Artemis? Your Twin brother grieves needlessly for you,' Perseus growled mentally, before he quickly cut off the connection.
The moon dimmed slightly. Perseus looked up at the sunrise, as he thought about the prophecy that Apollo relayed to him. There was a moment of silence as Perseus weighed his options. He truly did not want to lose anyone else. Furthermore, Amauros looked like he was near full strength. The prophecy was aimed at one – and Perseus hated it.
He clenched his fist as he made an oath not to allow the prophecy to pass.
(A dark cave in Greece...)
"Father, will this work..?" Nyctos asked.
"Of course, my son. The Fates only spoke of the destination, but it is their Voice, the Seers, or Oracle, who speak of the journey," Amauros said calmly, before he continued, "The Seers, like Phoebus Apollo, can only see fragments. But it is the Oracle, the spirit of Delphi blessed by the Fates themselves, who have the true insight. What use is a destination, when there is no path?"
Nyctos slowly nodded, as he watched his father stand.
"Come, my son. The trap has been sprung, and it is time," Amauros' soft voice dripped in dark excitement, as he finally stood up from his throne.
Done.. So, it took some time for this chapter, heh. Sorry, I had some personal RL problems I had to take care of, and it's resolved now. I understand that poor Rinne has been taking some heat for my lateness, so I apologize for that! So back to the story. The Shadow has made his appearance, and things are moving along more quickly now. We are going in full-throttle now, into this story, and approaching even closer to good ol' PJO! If you have any questions about the story, do PM me or Rinne :)
Hope you all enjoyed.
Mad Season Reunion 2015 - River of Deceit
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