Eventide
part one: civil
ch. three: planets; venus
Percy wanted to crash so badly. For a commander, he wasn't being treated very kindly. He voiced his opinion to Chaos, who let out a small sigh.
Right. I forget you mortals must sleep. He blinked once. Suddenly, he was standing on the surface of Thrae again, a girl Chaos next to him. He opened his mouth to say something about the awesomeness. Had they just teleported? His mouth dropped completely open. The girl just grinned and snapped her fingers. A house rose out of the ground, planks stacking up, nails whizzing around until a cabin was built from scratch, right next to the shore. When he stepped closer to look, it began to change in front of him. The roof lowered a bit. The walls of the house began to change, turning into wind-battered, painted walls. Windows popped up, long glass ones that stretched around the house. He stepped closer, abandoning Chaos and going around to the front. The door was blue, a light color, and it creaked as he opened it.
Percy gaped. It looked exactly like... He shook his head in disbelief. It couldn't be, though. It was the cabin at Montauk, where his mom had always taken him every single year. It was the same beige couch, the same short coffee table, the fireplace crackling in the corner. He walked in, turning in circles. Percy trailed his fingers on the wall, following the house as it curved into a hallway. There were two bedrooms, but somehow Percy and his mom had always ended up in one, next to each other, talking about his father. His mom would stroke his hair, whisper a soft I love you to him as his eyes closed. He would always whisper it back, and they'd laugh, though there was nothing funny about it.
He pushed open the door, not bothering to click on the lights. He took off the jacket he had been clinging to and hung it on the back of a chair. At the foot of the bed, his pack he'd had lay there, unopened. He didn't remember what he had done to it; Chaos had put it there for him, he guessed. When he went to the bathroom, it was already stocked, so Percy immersed himself into a routine. At the least, there was something comforting about this place. It was his home away from home when he wasn't at Camp. It was where he had grown up, where he'd seen Naiads waving at him, their smiles wide.
Finishing up, Percy walked back out of the bathroom. The windows were open, and the pale curtains drifted in the wind. He smiled sadly and crawled into the giant, four-poster bed, exactly like when he was eight. The bedsheets were soft, comfortable, and they smelled like his mom- the scent of baked cookies and sugar. He closed his eyes, thinking about her.
He didn't dream at all. It was an endless pit of black he kept falling in, but it felt good. There was nothing there, no monsters, no other people. He just kept falling and falling, wind pushing his hair away from his face as he stared upwards. When he woke up, moonlight streamed through the windows. He rubbed his eyes and stumbled to the bathroom, the floor cold underneath his feet. His hair was disheveled, all over the place, but he looked as refreshed as he felt. There were no more dark bags underneath his not-really bloodshot eyes. He stretched out, feeling better than he'd been the night before.
Stalking to the kitchen in his normal outfit, which was a T-shirt and jeans, he proceeded to check the kitchen. It was fully stocked with what they normally brought, so Percy started making the batter for some pancakes. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted blue food coloring and smiled. Traditions remained traditions, even while being worlds away. The smell of burning filled the room, and he yelped, trying to salvage the food. It wasn't that bad, really, and it was edible. He ate them plain, the blueberries inside bursting with flavor. He wondered what he would be doing. There were no other recruits, but would he be training? What else was there to do? Chaos walked in on him in the middle of eating. He stared at her.
"Do you know what privacy means?" he asked through a mouthful of pancake. She smiled back at him, as if pleased that she was intruding.
"Yes," she said, eyeing him. "But do you know what manners are?" He shook his head in a no, smirking.
"Sorry." He shrugged. "I don't do manners, really."
"Apologizing counts as manners." He groaned and smacked his head against the wooden table, but not hard enough to hurt very much.
"You know what, can I ask you why you're here?" he asked, trying to change the subject. She pulled out a chair and sat, looking at him.
"Well," she began. "Perseus, we recruit today. And build stuff. And other things." Excitement rose up in him, and he almost choked.
"Okay, we can't just randomly recruit, right?" Chaos nodded.
"You must take your choice. Who will be loyal, who will stay by your side, who will want to join you and believe in this cause. Also," she added. "You may release souls from the Underworld." The pancakes lay forgotten on the plate. The dead? His head spun. He could save them, give them a second chance like he'd always wanted to. He could see his friends again. Names started popping up in his head.
"Uh," he said. "Silena and Beckendorf would be great. And Michael and Lee. Castor..." He scratched his cheek, pondering the others.
"Zoe. And Bianca." Luke and Ethan. The names surfaced. They were good people, but would they be good choices? He thought about it. Ethan had wanted balance, an eye for an eye, which was good. But he'd fought for Kronos. And Luke... Percy had bad experiences with the guy. Sure, he'd saved the world and all (not Percy!), but Luke had turned on his family, on his friends. He remembered the expression on Mrs. C's face, wistful and happy, and thought about it. They could rebuild. They could build bridges long burned, couldn't they? He nodded.
"Ethan," he added. "And Luke." Chaos nodded.
"A soul exchange," she said. "That must happen. You must find nine living souls who want to die, and exchange the souls, as to not disrupt the flow of death." His excitement slowed. He felt suddenly sick, the breakfast churning in his stomach. Nine people. He had to technically kill nine people. What kind hero would he be, if he killed nine to bring back nine?
"Do not worry, child. These people you will find, they have suffered much. It will be an act of kindness if they die. They want to die more than they want to live, Perseus." It made him feel better, but the thought still made him queasy.
"Do I have to, you know, kill them?" he asked quietly. She shook her head in a no and put a hand on his shoulder. He followed her out to the water, a beautiful color. It seemed like it was the only thing that hadn't changed; the sea. The rush of energy made his blood sing. It was calling him, pulling him closer.
"Use your powers," Chaos said, and he faintly heard her over the sound of rushing water and the beating of his heart. "Seas are like portals, almost, because where there is life, there is water. Remember that." He didn't know what to do, but Percy waded in. He could feel the water coming to his command, coming to life underneath him. The waves crashed, louder and louder, getting bigger and bigger. He closed his eyes, feeling the pull, and imagined himself as water. One with the plumbing, he thought jokingly. He imagined himself as part of this vastness, and it was his.
Percy thought about the waters at Montauk. He remembered the smiling Naiads. His mom, laughing as she waded in knee-deep with him, and as he grew older, laughing as they danced. He thought about his dad, the look of pride on Poseidon's face, and about Paul, who would never replace Poseidon, but who could also never be replaced. He imagined the sunset over the water, a glorious light show. He dreamed of his home. The water crashed over him, and he dissolved into droplets of water.
He surged forwards, taking one step, then another, solidifying. The air felt like sea air and city air, clashing and mixing together at the shore. Opening his eyes, he realized he was home. Home, at the real Montauk, the real sea in which Poseidon reigned over. The sand was soft between his toes, sticking to them. He must have lost his shoes in the process, but at least he was in one piece. A pack appeared on his back, courtesy of Chaos. She was there, too, standing on the beach, watching him. It was daytime, filled with people, so naturally, no one noticed the boy walking out of the water, completely dry. Chaos waved him over, and he kept walking until they met. Without speaking, she motioned to the sky, and then dissolved. He looked around. Where had she gone? He didn't know how to contact Annabeth. He tried to think of what she had told him: You have many friends, I believe. It was true. But he had to send it undetected.
Friends. The thought struck him hard. She hadn't said they had to be mortal or god. She'd meant his four-legged friends, or his sea friends. The pegasi, the horses, or the hippocampi or the fish. He doubted she would return to the water. And besides, he missed Blackjack. Could pegasi do inter-dimensional travel or whatever he was doing? The mortals wouldn't see anything, anyway. Still, he imagined a thick mist pouring from his fingers, shrouding him. He focused the power running through his veins, and white slowly came from his palms. The Mist swirled around him, blocking the mortals' view. Percy whistled, a piercing sound. As he waited, he thought about Annabeth's schedule. She would have pegasi riding later today. That was good.
Yo, boss.
Hey, boss. Got any sugar? Or donuts? He groaned. Since when had Guido called him boss? Still, he ran forwards and threw his arms around Blackjack, who nuzzled him. He smelled like apples and hay. He grinned and rubbed Guido's neck, not leaving him out of the loop. The two's thoughts soon filled his mind, and he smiled at the familiar banter. Then, he shook his head and tried to focus.
"Guido, can you get this to Annabeth or Piper?" While he'd been waiting, Percy had scribbled a small note with his pen on the back of an old receipt he had found, reading: What belongs to the sea must return to the sea. I love you. Think of me, please, whenever you go to the water. He hoped she would understand what he meant; after all, they had known each other for years. They were best friends, confidants, lovers. Cheesy as it was, he had loved her before he had even known what love was.
The pegasus snorted. What, did you think I can't? He took the roll of paper in his mouth and took off, back to Camp Half-Blood. Blackjack nuzzled Percy again.
Why'd you call me here, boss? He sighed.
"Will you come with me?" he asked the pegasus. "I don't want to leave you here. Or Mrs. O'Leary." Said dog suddenly bounded into the picture and drooled all over his shirt. He managed a smile. There were shadows on Thrae. She could make it.
Blackjack made no sound, but he got the sense of loyalty. Mrs. O'Leary barked and wagged her tail before running into the nearest shadow. He led Blackjack to the water and closed his eyes, imagining the scenery of Thrae with Blackjack next to him. He imagined them riding through the brittle grass and playing in the black sand. When the water rolled back, they went with it.
Thrae was as mysterious as ever, but now, there was a city. Sleek black skyscrapers scraped the sky. Glass reflected moonlight, shining silver. Roads were paved smoothly, some of the grass neatly trimmed, and houses had been built. His own cabin still sat by the sea, on a tall dune of sand separate from the city. In the heart of it all was the temple of Chaos. It looked like futuristic America mixed with Greek and Roman influences, which didn't look that bad, actually. Thankfully, his cabin had stayed the same. The buildings looked like they were too neat, too organized for him.
Boss? Person alert. He turned. Chaos strode towards them, emotionless. She appraised him coolly, nodding at the pegasus. A small stable appeared next to where he now lived, and Blackjack wandered off as Mrs. O'Leary popped up. She wagged her tail and sniffed Chaos, who put a hand on her snout.
"You found your friends." He nodded. Chaos had been right. He did have many friends willing to help him. "And now you must find nine souls." His stomach twisted.
"How?" Chaos waved her hand, and Mist appeared, a screen, like that of an Iris-Message. He saw nine mortals, he guessed, unconscious as heart monitors beeped. The hospital. These would have been brain patients, perhaps, people who could not wake up.
Already dead, she thought to him. They will feel nothing. He nodded, staring at blank faces that lacked emotion. He didn't know if he could do this. Before he could change his mind or protest against it, they dissolved into golden streaks of light. The bodies disappeared. He watched in horror as the scenery regenerated, as if no one had been there. The beds were empty, the sheets straightening out. The screen dissolved slowly, and Percy turned away, queasy. He'd just let nine innocent people die. Just like that.
I'm sorry. She touched his arm, something that was meant to be comforting, but it made him feel sick. It was that pit of choking air again, like at Camp Half-Blood, and Chaos watched him barrel away. He jumped into the water and let it wash over him, as if healing an old wound that had just been torn open. He screamed, frustrated, bubbles bursting to life as water rushed into his mouth. Percy simply yelled as loudly as he could, his voice echoing strangely in the water. The water responded, agitated, moving around him faster.
It took him a while, but he finally calmed himself down. The weird moonlight glinted strangely on his hands, turning them into pale shadows. He took out Anaklusmos and uncapped it. The glow mingled with the soft light, and he stared at it for a minute before dropping it. The smallest clouds of dust shot up as it hit the ground below.
Frowning, Percy thought about the hospital patients. It wasn't his fault, though, was it? Or perhaps, Chaos had been warning him. Telling him to make wise choices, to know what was right. Maybe she had been trying to get across to him, showing that there was a precarious balance to everything. In bringing back his friends, he would have to condemn souls. There was a fragility to himself, he realized. It was like hope, wings as beautiful and weak as a butterfly. Mortality. There was something precious in mortality, being able to die and to live, to breath in cold air and to laugh, to be able to love and to hold hands. Being a mortal was different. Being able to die.
He would never again be as young as he was at the moment. He would never lovelier. Because being mortal meant any moment could be his last moment. Everything was beautiful even as they were doomed. Every piece of his life more wonderful. And once he died, he would never be there again. He realized that then, staring at the bottom of the ocean. Maybe he had let the mortals die, but it had not been in vain. His friends were now living. And he was wasting time, pitying himself, while he could have been saving lives, too. So that others could live life.
Percy burst out of the water, sword in hand. The silence and peace of the murky water had cleared his head. Chaos had been waiting for him patiently, it seemed, by the way she looked at him. When he got closer, she grabbed his wrist. He flinched. Her hand was as cold as ice.
"Uh, what d'you want?" he asked. She just flashed him a smile and cocked her head.
You should bring your friends here if you're going to have them join the army, child, she scolded. Groaning, Percy facepalmed. So now he had to do all the work? Glaring at her, he stepped back towards the water and focused on his home. He then dissolved with the next wave.
Okay, so he didn't actually know where exactly he was going. It was sort of like shadow travelling, where there was an in between before you reached your destination. Suddenly, a crazy thought popped up. He didn't quite know if it was possible, but Chaos had said water... Besides, the Underworld was where he needed to go. Percy focused yet again, reaching for the power stored in the back of his mind. The world spun in dizzying circles, blue racing around him, and then with a loud plop-ing sound, he landed face-down on the beach of Elysium.
There was a shriek. He moaned, trying to get up, and flipped over, looking into the face of none other than Silena Beauregard, her face a deep shade of tomato red.
"Holy Hera!" she cried. "What the- Percy, how did you- I didn't know you were going to- Percy Jackson!" He helped himself up, snickering at his former friend's face. Looking around, he spotted her boyfriend, Beckendorf, who just grinned back at him. So the two had been getting pretty steamy on the beach, maybe?
"Hi," he said, for lack of a better word. She was still breathing hard, as far as ghosts went, anyway. Beckendorf walked up and put an arm around Silena. He was laughing, and seeing the teen laugh made him laugh harder.
"What are you doing here?" Silena finally cried. He offered her a wolfish grin. Her expression changed to that of shock. He had changed.
"Long story," he said. "Thing is, you're getting a second chance." He offered this with a wave of his hand and a smaller, softer smile. Silena and Beckendorf exchanged a look. He knew that look. He had been the one who had exchanged it once, with Annabeth, annoying the heck out of everybody as they communicated silently.
"Wanna come?" he asked, even as the water turned ink-black and crashed down on them.
