AN: You will probably notice with this update that all the chapters, bar the prelude and interlude, have been put into the third person.
A lot of titles are running through my head, and I can't decide which one is the best fit. If you care about what the actual title is, will you leave a review stating your preference? Anonymous reviews are enabled.
Percy had reached the outer courtyard of the palace before someone decided to stop him. The merman put a hand on the demigod's shoulder, and his voice rang out with regret, "I'm sorry, sir, but the lord told us not to ket you leave."
Percy was still angry about what Triton had said when he uttered "I'm sorry too. Because I'm not staying here," before spinning around and punching the merman strait in the jaw, knocking him out.
The other guards, who had been waiting to see what would happen, rushed towards them as Percy carefully lowered the unconscious merman to the ocean floor beneath them.
Two guards thrusted their spears at him – one aimed at the leg, the other the shoulder – both of which broke under the stress placed on him due to the Achilles Curse.
Percy's hand went to his pocket to grab the pen that just so happened to be his sword, only to find it empty. He never went to retrieve it, and would have to rely on his other skills to win this battle.
His water powers were used to their full advantage. A powerful stream of water from his thrashing arm sent the closest to mermen, the ones who sent their spears at him, flying. One knocked the other down as he landed. A whirlpool then formed around him, sending the mermen to a safe distance.
Within the heart of the whirlpool, Percy hurtled upwards through the water, picking up speed as the current pushes him harder than ever before towards Manhattan. He figured that with so many mortals crowded on there, the semi recent battle, and all the demigods on Olympus mixed in, all the confusing smells might buy him some time if he laid low.
It only took him a few minutes to reach the surface at the accumulative speed he was going at compared to the fifteen minutes it had taken to get to the little war meeting, and the ten minutes it had taken him while hurrying to back Poseidon's Palace.
He shot out of the Hudson River near Albany Street, and scrambled off the shore and up to the pavement, then started running. He had left against his father's orders, and assaulted several palace guards in the process, meaning he was in big trouble. I should get out of Manhattan, he's likely look there first for me, he thought.
That was the problem though. If he exited across either rivers, he would run the high risk of his father seeing him. If he exited through the sky, Zeus would see him and blast him back down to earth.
He then, completely to his surprise, ran literally into Nico. They both came crashing down, Nico going with a small yelp of surprise. By this time, he had gotten to Pumphouse Park. Suddenly, it hit him, Nico! Nico could probably shadow travel him out of New York.
"Nico, I need you to get me out of New York," Percy said while helping the younger boy up, "Fast."
"What?" he murmured, dazed and confused by the suddenness.
"Quick," Percy said, pulling him towards the shadow of a tall building.
Both boys leaked into nothing.
oO0Oo
"Where are we?" Percy asked when they had reappeared. The location that they had arrived in was a small dirt trial leading into a harbor, and the sky was overcast and the air was foggy; a storm was brewing, or perhaps just ending here.
"I don't know," Nico said, almost as confused as Percy. "I was thinking about Albany, New York, but we ending up here."
Percy looked out over the water. He could see some mortals out on the harbor, sailing about half a dozen boats slightly smaller than the ones used in the Olympics. One was heeled over badly and capsized, her crew falling into the water.
Percy takes a step forward, ready to hop in and help the mortals put their boat right when a voice ordered "No, wait and watch what they do, child." The voice sounded ancient, powerful, and hypnotizing. It sounded like many people had called out to him as one being.
By this time, one of the crew, a teenager with a bright orange hat, had managed to make his way around the side of the boat and was climbing onto the centerboard. A motorboat had also made it's way to the boat, and seemed to be observing.
The teenager then started pulling on the centerboard. The boat shook for a few moments and slowly turned upright to reveal another teenage being scooped up into it. The person in the boat put it in irons and then turned around to help her companion into it.
"Who are you?" Nico asked as he turned around after the display to see elderly woman with knitting needles and yarn around them.
"I am Clotho, the spinner of threads," the first one said.
"I am Lachesis, the measurer of threads," the second one said.
"And I am Atropos, the cutter of threads. You may know my sisters and me as the fates," the final one said.
"Why did you come to visit us?" Percy asked absentmindedly.
"We have come to give you part of your destiny," Clotho said, which was met with an "Oh." Nico mentally smacked himself.
"You must defeat Zeus, Perseus. This will perhaps be one of the greatest things you will do," Lachesis said.
"There is something I want to warn you about, Percy. To do so, I must first explain," Atropos said. "There are two kinds of mist. The first kind is the kind that settles on gods, hiding their godly form and determining the shape that will replace it, or if it will disappear completely to all but those of their choosing. Each god can manipulate it at will and it cannot be seen though by mortals. The second kind is what hides your celestial bronze sword as something else, such as a lacrosse stick or baseball bat, and change monsters into men, to mortals. Around the time the first heroic age ended, Zeus decided that the second kind of mist would be out into use, to 'protect' the mortal world. Like recently, this was done against the better decision of the Olympian counsel. Zeus' tyrannical reign. I trust you know what you are allowed to do?"
Percy nodded to the goddess. He was a little overwhelmed.
"I have a prophecy to help you," Lachesis spoke up.
"Seven half-bloods shall answer the call," she sang. "To storm or fire, the world must fall. An oath to keep with a final breath, and foes bear arms to the Doors of Death."
"You shall be off, gather your army," Clotho said, waving them off.
"Hope be with you," the trio of ancient goddesses murmured as one once the demigods had shadowed traveled off.
AN: You can probably tell, I don't live in NYC. Heck, I don't even live in the state of New York. I'm BSing these names through Google Maps.
The sailboat models featured are 420's, and "irons" is the point of sail where the boat is facing more than 45 degrees into the wind, resulting in the boat not getting any propulsion.