The fight was mainly explosions. The sort of mind-retching hydrogen-bombs-have-nothing-on-them-kind.
In the brief flashes when Crius wasn't just trying to block everything out, he could see somethings that made sense to him. He saw two gladiators fighting, one had horses which glowed and sprouted wings; Pegasi, while the other drove skeletal and shadowy monsters that spewed flames. He saw a golden eagle and a raven clawing at each other while a huge storm raged amongst them.
But for the most part, it was just huge explosions.
"The negotiations aren't going too well," a voice said in Crius' head. This was slightly unnecessary as he could already tell that things were not going well. "Let's drop you somewhere, you're enough of a liability as it is. There was this other hero who I was thinking of..."
Suddenly, the world around Crius blurred out and he was standing somewhere where there was no hint of the fighting. At first he thought he had ended up back on that island of Hercules, or near Camp Jupiter, because his feet started sinking into the sand. As he looked around though, he saw the sea, so it couldn't be Camp. And there were several houses behind him, so that meant that he was somewhere new.
Crius gazed off into the sea. It sparkled, and it seemed oddly peaceful. Crius couldn't see any storm clouds in the horizon, which made him wonder just how Poseidon was taking this whole thing. Crius expected some monsters to suddenly climb out of the seawater and ambush him, but none of that happened, so he guessed that at the very least, the Sea God was going to be turning a blind eye to him.
Crius decided to wander off towards the shops. He searched his pockets and saw that he didn't have any normal money with him. It was just then that he saw it.
The reason that it was so obvious was that it was so big. He could see it even though it took it him half an hour to reach it. The other reason that it looked completely out of place.
It was a gigantic ship, one that had shipwrecked or something. Oddly enough, there was no driftwood around it or anything to show that something else had been hit by a storm. Even freakier was the fact that no one seemed to notice it, all of the other people passed by without giving it a glance. Or, if they saw it, they didn't show any sign of recognition.
The Mist, Crius realized. That was the explanation, at least, the only thing that made sense. There was no way that anyone could see something like that and ignore it.
Crius remembered that Hades had said something about a hero. He was probably talking about some other hero who was made a god and lived in that ship. Then again, it really didn't make sense. Half of the ship had rotted away, the sails were unrecognizable, and mold covered most of it. A god would probably have found a better place to stay.
Not to mention that the last time that Hades had sent Crius to a hero, it had ended up with him being attacked just so he could gain some new intel. Crius looked at the other houses. He probably had some of his things from Camp Jupiter on him, if he could just find someone who was also from the Legion, he could get some help. That whole deal with Ares probably hadn't been solved yet, and if it had, it wasn't like they knew he was involved. Though they probably thought he had something to do with it, the chances were low that it had spread all across the country.
That sounded a whole lot better of a plan than going into the ship. Until Crius saw something glowing from one of the windows.
Crius double backed. No, he hadn't been imagining it, there was something inside the ship. Though he knew it was a stupid idea, he went towards it anyway.
The light vanished suddenly. And after that, a small shape of a boy burst out of the wood.
The light had been coming from the glow, Crius realized as he saw that the boy was a ghost. He was dressed up in one of those really old sailor uniforms, and the moment the boy realized that Crius could see him, he started talking.
"M'names Jones, sir. Cabin Boy of the Orgul."
"Um, what are you doing here?"
"Well, see, I was always rarin' to go seafarin', and so I got onto my first ship, 'cept it capsized and everyone died on the maiden voyage. Including me." The boy said it happily, as if getting assigned to a ship and then dying was everything that a boy could possible hope for.
"What is this?" Crius asked.
"Ghost ship," the boy said. "Y'know, some ships that manage to form after crew wrecks and start moving on on their own. 'Cept there's nobody here, and the ship is on land for some reason, and the only one on it is some old, old..."
The boy frowned. "I don't really remember what they're called, 'cept that the old granny at the orphanage would wash my mouth if I ever said it."
"Um, okay," Crius said. He had sort of understood what the boy was talking about.
Crius took a peek inside the ship. An idiot could tell that it wasn't very safe to go inside, and there were a lot of floorboards that stuck out. Something told Crius that just because it was a ghost ship didn't mean that it couldn't give him a blister.
"If it's a ghost ship," Crius asked. "How can I touch it?"
Jones scratched his head. "Y'know, I a'int too sure of that myself. I think they call it a... misnomer! Yeah, that's right. They're not real ghost ships like ghost, just wanderin' ones."
That also didn't make too much sense, but Crius decided to accept it.
"You said you were an orphan?" Crius asked Jones. Hades had mentioned something about a hero... had he meant Jones? It would have made sense if you considered the fact that the boy was a ghost and he didn't know his parentage. Crius sometimes wondered about it at Camp, how it would be like to die without ever knowing your godly parent.
Most of the other campers had told him that it rarely happened. Something about the Fates meddling made it so that half-bloods always lived long enough to meet monsters and the like. At least, they'd never heard of it happening.
"Yup," Jones said. "The old granny told me they both died in a fire."
Crius considered that. It was possible the mortals had got it wrong and not both of them had perished, but the thing was that he wasn't sure what he was supposed to get out of Jones.
"Do you know anything about the Fates?" Crius decided asking directly. He also kept a wary eye out to see if there was lightning anywhere or if one of them was about to appear.
"Nope," the boy said after a pause. Just then, something-no, someone walked out from a desolate corner inside the ship.
The man looked sort of like the ship itself. There was actual mold growing on his clothes, and he would've made some of those homeless people look rich. Crius couldn't even tell what his face looked like.
"What are you doing on my ship?" the man asked. He said it very slowly and oddly, as if he wasn't used to speaking. Jones decided to crouch behind Crius, which was even weirder since he was a ghost and should have been safe.
The man walked two steps and then fell over. It was then that Crius could smell him, the kind of smell that you'd get if you hadn't showered in a thousand years.
Crius was about to walk away and not look back when the man mumbled something. Crius didn't catch all of it, but the words 'Fates' was definitely there.
Crius then knew that he had to hang around.
"Poke him with a stick!" Jones said. Crius had to admit that that sounded like a good idea, just not a very nice one.
Crius turned the man over and helped him get up. His hands would have to be disinfected. And his shirt. And he'd probably have to soak for several hours.
The man looked like he had just woken up.
"Help me drag him towards the sea," Crius told Jones before he remembered that Jones was a ghost.
Crius took it upon himself to drag the half-conscious guy towards the ocean and slap water in his face. The guy spluttered and after the third wave, he finally got up. He dropped again and dragged himself towards the boat, and then stood up.
Jones watched the whole thing from afar. After five minutes the man finally got his bearings.
"Now, who are you?" the guy asked Crius. He seemed to have finally gotten out of his daydream. His voice had a whole lot more authority than Crius would have expected, and from how he stood Crius could tell that he had probably had great posture once. As a matter of fact, he had a gleam in his eyes that said that he had seen better times than... well, this.
"Crius Sympan," Crius said. The guy seemed to react to the name, kind of like Hercules but he didn't add in anything.
"Jason," the man replied.
Suddenly stuff started making sense. "Jason- you mean the Jason? Of the Argonauts?"
Crius remembered another story he had heard about at camp. About Jason and the Golden Fleece and their travels on their ship. But the thing that had really stuck out of him was the ending.
At the end, Jason had broken his oath to Medea and lost Hera's favor. He had spent all of the rest of his time lying around the wreck of the Argo dreaming of his past glory. Then, he got old and a piece of the rotten ship fell on him.
He died instantly. Not the best of endings.
But that had to be thousands of years ago. That Jason was supposed to be dead.
Or was he really? Maybe this Jason was sort of like Hercules, a remnant from the past who moved from place to place just like the rest of Western civilization.
The awkward silence was finally broken when something started glowing over Jones' head. Crius turned around to see a sort of hologram on top of him. He had never seen anyone being claimed before, but he guessed that this was how it was done.
Not that he could figure out what the picture was supposed to be.
"A horn of plenty," Jason said. "You're a child of Fortuna, boy."
Crius had heard a lot about Fortuna at Camp Jupiter. But it was weird when he thought about it. Jones was an orphan and had died on his first voyage. Not exactly the benefits you expect to get if your mother's Lady Luck herself.
"Fortuna controls luck," Jason said, as if he understood what Crius was saying. "Not Fate."
"You mean they're different?" Crius asked.
"Yup," Jones chimed in.
"Fate is big things. The choices you make. Not that you really get a choice in the end," Jason said vehemently. "The Fates always mark out your entire life for you, pretty much all of it, and leave some things for you two decide, not that there's really any decision. Fortune is different, with small things, and generally with people without important destinies like the most important heroes. The Fates might have decided to get rid of your friend over there. They generally don't like Fortuna and what she symbolizes too much."
"So, you're the real Jason?" Crius asked again. He was still having trouble wrapping his mind around it. This guy looked like he had never seen five dollars in his life.
"Yes boy!" Jason shouted. "Now why are you here? What do you want? If you want the Fleece, I have no idea where it is."
"No, I wanted to ask you more about the Fates!" Crius said.
"What about them?" Jason asked. "They're crazy old sadistic people and the root of all misery. Anything else?"
"Yes," Crius said. "I've still had absolutely zero info on, on-" Crius realized that he was going to have to explain everything to this guy.
Just then, a limo pulled up near the street out of nowhere. Now, really, it seemed to come out of nowhere.
For one, it looked out of place because this was a pretty small town from the looks of it, and the person who came out looked even more out of place.
Crius guessed she must have been kind of beautiful, but it was hard to get a good luck at here with all that she was wearing. She was wearing a fur coat (several of the fauns back at Camp would have had a heart attack) and huge emerald earrings. She had more expensive rings on then she had fingers and she didn't seem to mind that here cape was dragging against the sand.
She walked up to Crius. "Hello there. Crius Sympan, I believe?"
"Lady Fortuna," Jason said and sort of bowed. Crius guessed it was either because he didn't like her, or just couldn't in his condition. Maybe both.
Fortuna nodded but didn't put his eyes away from Crius, except to glance at Jones once.
"I need to have a little talk."
"Okay." Crius should have been feeling slightly scared, but something about her made him feel bold. He felt his usual fears and indecision evaporate, and was feeling way too sure of himself. Like the next lottery was just going to be his.
"This is rather long, but to get to the point, I require your help. The point is simply that for my own reasons, I want to help you. I will return the original Argos back to its glory, and along with Jason and my son you will go and seek help. There is a hermit who lives in the Rockies, the ship is set to sail. Any questions?"
Crius felt like saying 'No ma'am' almost immediately before he realized that Fortuna was mixing up his emotions, kind of like with Mars. Crius pinched himself and found that that seemed to clear his thoughts. Which was a good thing, because Fortuna's deal wasn't something he just wanted to walk into.
"We'll take it," Jason said behind him. Fortuna nodded like that was all she needed and went back to her limousine. With a flick of her fingers the ship jumped up, and landed new just like it had been built.
Whether Crius like it or not, he had a quest to take.