A/N: I know. That didn't really fit well with continuity. But I promise to fix all of that here! R&R!
Percy POV
I'm dead. Seriously this time: I'm freaking dead, lifeless, non-living. Annabeth isn't by my side, so I take it I saved her. All I could see was white. Nothingness. Then it faded, and a sunny, but blurry green valley appeared slowly. It had golden gates and there were people frolicking and living in peace.
Ironically, guarding "heaven's" gate was none other than Charon. He was looking depressed as usual, though, for some reason, his skin was flooded with a bit more color, and his black robes were now white. He still looked just as depressed.
"Sir?" I asked, walking up to the entrance where he sat by the side.
"Perseus. They told me you'd come," Charon replied, very dryly.
"Yes. I had to die apparently."
"Yes. I am aware."
"Is this the entrance?"
"…Yes."
"Who's all in here?"
"Only those who deserve second chances."
"Is what I'm searching for…in there?"
"It depends," Charon said, finally getting up and opening the gate. "That which you seek is not found, it is earned. And only those who can be forgiven may wield what you require."
I didn't have a clue what he meant, but I didn't have time to ponder as I walked into the lush, peaceful plains of Elysium. Everyone looked so happy. Then I saw something I never thought I'd see ever again.
Sitting by a tree, looking happier than she had ever looked before, was a girl with dark hair, copper-like skin, and the darkest shade of brown eyes I had ever seen. Wait. "Shade"?
Zoë Nightshade.
I froze. She looked in my direction and her jaw dropped. With nowhere to run to, I did something incredibly stupid. I stood straight up and covered my eyes with my hands. Dumbass.
The weirder part was that she actually giggled when she saw what I did. Zoë Nightshade does NOT giggle.
"Perseus Jackson. Such an honor."
"Don't hurt me please…"
She laughed. "I will not hurt thee, boy. I did not however manage to know how you could have ended up in Elysium so quickly."
"I'm looking for something. But I can't find it if I can't be forgiven. But do you maybe know who needs to forgive me?"
Her smile dropped and she retained the same dull look that she had all those years back.
"I…cannot help you, Perseus. I am sorry."
With that, she walked away, averting my eyes. Then I saw a large cabin that looked like a flattened Big House off in the distance. Running towards it was my first instinct.
As if a stuck door wasn't bad enough, the cabin was practically falling apart and the floorboards were squeaky and rotten. But in it were three ghost-like beings sitting at a table, playing cards and laughing a little bit too faintly.
The first ghost had long, black hair, and blue eyes. She was wearing a small t-shirt and tight black jeans (not that I was looking), and was sitting rather casually at the table.
The next ghost was utterly large . He had dark skin and a rugged, built body. He looked like he was smudged with grease and burned up, but still was laughing and playing cards with the other two.
The final boy was someone I did not expect to see. He had short, slightly messy but cropped blonde hair and blue eyes, with an unnerving pale scar from his eye to his chin. Then, I recognized all three.
Silena Beauregard, Charles Beckendorf, and Luke Castellan.
They heard me gasp, and turned. They're faces went from confused to happy. Their smiles were the warmest I had ever seen them be in years.
"Perseus Jackson," Luke said warmly. "Now I know the Son of Poseidon ain't here for good."
Silena ran up to me and hugged me fiercely, while Beckendorf and Luke strolled up and shook my hand.
"Oh Gods, I can't believe you guys. You all look fantastic."
"Not so bad yourself," Luke mused to me. "Now what are you really here for?"
My face paled. Even if they had "forgiven me", I'd still feel bad.
"Do you all forgive me?" I asked.
"What do you mean?"
"For everything. For being born, and bringing the prophecy, and leading you all to your deaths?"
Silena hugged me again. "Oh, Percy…none of that is your fault. Of course we forgive you for what you've done, but not for what you didn't do."
Nothing showed up. Wasn't there supposed to be some kind of sword, or bow, or stick? They said they'd forgiven me, right?
Then I remembered Zoë. Maybe by saying she couldn't help me, she knew something I didn't. Besides, general amnesty was given the night she died. We'd fought for each other and she was honored in the stars.
A little birdie told me I might be at this for a little while.
After hours of asking around, I returned to the Cabin. A while later, Charon walked inside the Cabin and sat down. He looked up at me, and when our eyes met, it seemed like the room darkened. Suddenly, Silena, Beckendorf, and Luke disappeared. Charon sighed and gestured me to a chair.
"Boy, you must learn to read between lines," he wheezed. "Hardly anything an immortal says is literal."
I sat wondering what to say next. If I don't need to be forgiven, how can this weapon come to me? Did that make any sense?
Or maybe it did. I was always forgiving the ones who did me wrong. Unless…
"Boy," Charon rasped, "the answer is not as out in the open as you may believe."
"How so?"
"A hero who is truly worthy of such a gift must learn to forgive as well."
"I have forgiven my friends, and my enemies."
"BAH! They have done nothing to you, boy. The only way you can be worthy is to forgive…yourself."
I thought long and hard about that one. Forgive myself for what? I've never held myself accountable for much of anything, unless it had to do with stealing cookies from the pantry even when mom told me not to.
"I'm sorry I stole the cookie. I was hungry but I could have waited."
"What?"
"I thought…nevermind."
"Boy, listen. We all have done terrible things. But we must forgive each other, and ourselves, or everything we ever are in life means nothing. Forgiveness is not saying sorry. Forgiveness is not asking others, such as Zoë and Luke and Beckendorf, to forgive you for things you haven't done to them. Forgiveness is accepting yourself for what you are and what you've done. Forgiveness is moving on. And you have yet to move on."
I thought long and hard. Suddenly, everything made sense. Forgiveness was moving on. And if I couldn't move on, I had to start fresh from here.
"Exactly!" Charon said, obviously reading my thoughts. "Your past doesn't define you. What you choose to do and whether that thing is right is what ensures your future. Who you make yourself to be. Not what others want. What you want to be. So who are you, boy?"
"Percy Jackson. And I have a score to settle with the God of War."
With a smile on his face (what may have been his first in millennia), Charon snapped his fingers.
"Perseus Jackson. If the God of War is who you wish to face, then in that regard you have earned what you seek."
Moments later, a golden light started to glow in my palm. With each passing second, the light grew and grew into a round ball of yellow energy. When it stopped expanding outwards, it began extending vertically and started to take the shape of a massive golden blade. It had to be at least one meter in length, and had a hilt and grip near one foot in length. It illuminated an unnatural shade of gold. Just like ichor.
"What is this?" I asked, my jaw dropping at the majesty of the weapon.
"A weapon no mere man has seen or wielded in over a thousand years. The only weapon a demigod can use that is capable of slaying a God."
"I've never heard any myths about it…"
"That's because it exists in the very fabric of the universe, unseen from immortal eyes. This, my boy…is the Godsword."
"The Blade of the Gods?"
"The most powerful blade ever created. Hidden in secret from even Zeus himself."
"And this is supposed to help me defeat Ares?"
"You can't lose with this by your side. Now I'd move with haste, Son of Poseidon. You have quite an introduction to make."
And something told me I knew exactly how to do just that.
A/N: Yes. I just did that. Bet you're all kind of pissed off that I'd leave you hanging like that. But no worries. The next chapter is more bad-ass beyond words. Read, Review, both, or just go home. But remember, the reviews do sustain me.
– Chris