A/N: First and foremost; I could not decide how to break up this chapter, since it all kind of ties together. So you lucky people get a really long chapter. Enjoy it; it won't be a super common thing. Second, I am just overjoyed and overwhelmed by the interest in this story in such a short amount of time. You know, it's the thought that people actually enjoy what I'm writing that makes it all worth it. So, taking a few liberties with the fact that this is an Alternate Universe story, here are two rather important changes I've decided are necessary for the plot I have in mind:
The prophecy now states "a child of the elder gods shall reach eighteen against all odds", as opposed to sixteen like in the canon. This is to allow me more time to add in stuff I like, as well as make a few later developments slightly less... awkward.
I know that Otus and Ephialtes appear as two of the giants in the HoO series, but I'm not going to be including that storyline into this one. At all. So I'm going to be using them in their original Classical Myth forms, as twin sons of Poseidon and Iphimedia. This is important to remember!
I like to add in some classical mythology when the chance arises, so when the books are a little vague I may add in details from my favorite variations of those myths. Alright, that's about it for the author's note, so read the disclaimer and enjoy the story!
DISCLAIMER: Percy Jackson and all related characters belong to Rick Riordan. Aurelius, Ilex, and the Palace of Light belong to me. As do all OOCness.
A/N 2: Sorry, one final thing. The Khopesh is a type of ancient Egyptian sword. It has a short, straight blade before curving into a "C" shape on top of the straight part. Google an image of it if my description is lacking; they are really cool looking swords.
Chapter One: Let the Training Begin!
Percy's POV
I duck to my right as I barely avoid being beheaded by a strike from the golden warrior in front of me. A quick spin to my left makes his thrust pass by my ribs harmlessly. I tighten my grip on the handle of my golden khopesh. I know it's a little odd for a Greek God to give me an Egyptian sword, but my father loved ancient Egypt; something about all the golden sand and heat that was good to nap in, or something. Another chop, but this time my opponent overexerts himself; leaving an opening. I smile and take advantage of it.
I duck under his outstretched arm and spin along it, dodging his grasping hand. I smack the outer curve of my sword against his wrist, hearing bone shatter and flesh tear as his Greek longsword falls to the ground, his hand still wrapped around the handle. Before he can recover I am behind him, the sharp inner edge of the curve of my sword against his throat. I pull the edge swiftly, and he collapses to the ground in a puff of golden dust, leaving behind nothing but the sword and his hand.
"Woohoo! Way to go Percy!" I hear a cheering from behind me, and turn to smile at my sister.
Ilex is sitting in the stands of the Arena, next to our father. Scattered throughout the rest of the stands are a mixture of other golden warriors my father has conjured, and a random assortment of nymphs. For reasons I can not fathom, there always appear to be a large number of nymphs around the palace. Dryads, nymphs of the plants and trees, Nereids, nymphs of the water, Aurai, winged nymphs of the breeze, Auloniad, nymphs of the mountains, all forms of the nymph family frequented our halls. They always seem drawn to my father, wanting to help with everyday tasks as much as they can. He always thanks them for their concern, but politely refuses any help; he is still a gentleman, after all. The oddest part seems to be that the nymphs are resigned to his disinterest, but still respect and adore him. If it was a romantic thing I could understand that; my father is very handsome, with angled, fair features. The word 'elven' comes to mind. But they also seem to exude an air of sadness around him, and none of them flirt with him. I keep forgetting to ask him why they act as they do.
I am drawn from my wandering mind by the sound of my father's applause. He is clapping loudly, a bright smile on his face.
"Well done, Percy! That is a new record, I think. Truly you have a mastery with that blade."
I duck my head in embarrassment at my father's praise, instead staring at my sword. For a moment I can see the Greek letters carved along the straight part of the blade spell out the word Honor.
"It was nothing, father. Your training is to thank more than anything." And really, it is.
For the past three years, ever since I chose to become a hero, my life has been a constant whirlwind of training. Every day I practice in the Arena underneath the palace, learning the skills of the sword, the shield, the spear, and the bow. I am skilled, but not remarkably so, in all of them. We also train my body, lifting weights to increase my strength; running to increase my stamina and endurance; yoga, of all things, to increase my flexibility and agility. As my father says, 'strength and power are useless if you can not reach your opponent'. But my training goes beyond the physical. At night, my father and I spend hours in the library, training my mind. I learned to read and write which, to my eternal shame, I didn't know how to do before while living with Gabe. Once I had that down, my father started all over again in other languages. Ancient Greek I could do, no problem. But Latin, French, Spanish, all these I needed to learn myself. Luckily Aurelius is a kind, patient teacher. He even managed to wipe out my dyslexia, something apparently all demigods have, so I could learn better. Math, History, Science, all of these I absorbed like a sponge. I suppose it would seem kind of odd to an outsider, seeing a ten-year old boy loving to learn. But my father made it so incredible; he was the greatest teacher I could ever want. And when others could teach better, he would admit it. An old satyr, apparently over two thousand years old, would teach me the history my father hadn't been around for. He was nice enough, but always smelled like the tires he chewed. To teach botany, I had a very kind dryad tutor, who could grow the plants we were studying in her hands.
The two most important lessons, however, he always taught himself. The first were the lessons on the Gods. He taught me about every god. And I mean every god. If there is a backed up river in the worst county of any country in the world, I know its god's name, birthday and customs. But he paid extra attention to the Olympians, who I would most likely be more involved with than lesser gods. Though he always made sure to show the lesser gods the proper respect they deserved.
The second set of lessons he found most important were manners, and chivalry. He always kept them close to his heart, so that he never forgot their importance. I don't know why he found them so important, but if he thought they were, so did I. I mastered the art of conversation, respectful etiquette, how to speak to others, and all that jazz.
So here I am, possibly the oddest ten-year old one could find; well trained in the art of combat and most likely the most physically fit child there is, as intelligent as a college student, and with the manners of a Victorian gentleman. Odd combination, but it worked.
My father's voice one again brings me back to the present.
"All the training in the world is useless if the pupil is not skilled enough to learn from it, Percy. But I thank you nonetheless, my son. But that does raise an issue we must address, and soon."
"What's wrong, father? Have I done something wrong in my training?"
He chuckles softly. "No. Quite the opposite, in fact. You have moved past what I am able to teach you. My own skills with the blade are quite negligible, you surpassed them months ago, and I have imparted to you all the wisdom I have accrued over the centuries. I... I could not be any prouder of you, Percy." I can see his golden eyes watering a little, even from back here.
I stare at my shoes for a moment, my face burning red, before I meet his eyes again. "Thanks, dad." I walk towards the pair of them, ready to leave the Arena for the day. I climb over the wall, and am immediately enveloped in a large hug by my father. Hugging Aurelius is like hugging the sun's light on a cozy spring day. It is warm, and comforting, and makes you feel so alive and loved it makes your heart ache from the sheer joy of it.
He sets me down, and tells me to meet him in the entry hall after I am cleaned up. As I walk to my room, Ilex follows behind me.
"You were amazing today! I mean, that last guy, he was all 'Aagh, I'm gonna get you', and you were all 'Ha ha! Now I'm behind you, and I'm going to slit your throat!' and you did, and it was awesome!"
I can only chuckle at her ramblings; my sister is highly excitable.
I reach my room with Ilex still going on about the fights today, and she is still talking once I reach my bathroom. She follows me in, and I turn to face her incredulously.
"Um, Ilex?" I ask, rubbing the back of my neck in embarrassment.
"Yeah? What is it?"
"Unless you think you're going to be joining me, please get out."
She suddenly seems to notice that she has followed me into the bathroom. She blushes red enough to show even with her dark complexion, and punches me in the arm.
"Ow! What was that for?"
"You could have said something before!" She storms out of my bathroom, muttering something about 'boys' under her breath. I shake my head, and peel off my golden armor. The armor looks just like what any Grecian soldier would have worn in the days of heroes, only made of golden fire, courtesy of my father. I jump into the shower, and it immediately turns on to my favorite water temperature:
Mediterranean.
Even though I have forsaken Poseidon as my father, I still have all those weird powers his children have. I can control water, breathe it, and my wounds are healed whenever I enter it. I can speak to fish, all sea creatures actually, and horses. I also seem to have inherited his powers over storms and earthquakes. I caused one that was 5.4 on the Richter scale after a rude spirit insulted Ilex last year.
The arrogant bastard called her a 'serving girl'.
As such, I love the feel of the water on my skin. It's so invigorating, and refreshing. As it washes over my skin, I can't help but look at some of the many scars Aurelius was unable to heal. If I had known about my healing power beforehand, would they have even occurred? I shake my head from the thoughts of my past and finish with the shower. Knowing my father is waiting, I will myself dry and dress quickly.
A pair of blue jeans, held up by a golden leather belt. A white T-shirt goes over my head, and is covered by a hoodie the color of bronze. On the back is the image of a pair of gold-feathered wings, in honor of my father's. A pair of sneakers and all that's left is my weapons.
I pick up the golden vambrace from my night stand and strap it to my left arm. I traded up to this after my golden ring got caught in a skeleton warrior's ribcage. The arm-guard can, at a thought, encase my mangled hand and entire left forearm in a golden gauntlet, granting me complete control over its movements. It also can let forth a golden shield, mirrored and indestructible.
I stare at my khopesh, Honor, for a moment. The handle is simple, large enough for my hand to wrap around with about an inch of pommel and an inch before the knuckle guard starts. The grip is made of a dark sandalwood, wrapped in bronze wire, creating a diamond effect of brown and gold. The pommel is wide and flat on the bottom, but engraved with my father's crest: the eight-pointed star. The blade itself is rather short, only about two feet long. About a third of it is the straight part attached to the handle, but then it curves out before curving back in, making it look like an elongated letter C on a stick. The entire blade, inside and out, is razor sharp and will never dull nor break. The sword is made of the same golden fire made solid as all my father's gifts. I remember asking my father about its name, and he told me, 'A warrior must be strong, skilled, and lethal to survive. But he must always remember to fight... with Honor'. I smile at the memory, and will the blade to change. Honor dissolves into golden fire before coiling up my arm, turning into a heavy golden chain bracelet around my right wrist.
Ready, I leave my room and search for my father. He is standing in the main hall in front of the doors, massive gates made of solid gold, engraved with a simple message in every language on earth:
Stop, before entering the Palace of Light, and think on your heart.
If you seek conquest and bloodshed, only yours shall be found.
But seek sanctuary and peace, and you shall know my generosity.
Ilex thought it was kind of creepy, but I liked it. It was my father boiled down to a nutshell; he was a kind, caring man, until others forced him to be otherwise. Then he was like hellish death incarnate.
"I'm ready to go, father. Where are we headed?"
Aurelius smiled down at me. He was in his divine form, the full one this time, so he was fifteen feet tall. His wings shone in the sunlight drifting in from the hidden skylights, and his flaming golden armor shifted with every movement of his.
"We are going to find you some new teachers, Percy. As long as you do not let all your knowledge slip from your mind like water, I believe that part of your instruction is over. We now go to find you those who may better instruct you in the arts of war."
I was a little excited by the prospect of being done with all my schooling, I must admit.
"Who will train me?"
"I am thinking a few teachers will be good for you. Perhaps... Achilles, Odysseus, Theseus, Perseus, Orion, Bellerophontes... do any of these sound like worthy teachers to you?"
My jaw hit the floor halfway through the list. Those were some of the greatest, if not the greatest heroes of all time. But there was one tiny problem...
"Um, father, all of them are dead. They have been for millennia."
"I know that. I was present for the deaths of Achilles and Perseus. But their spirits may still be able to help us. We are off to my brother's domain, to speak with the souls of long dead heroes."
"You mean, we are going...?" My father picks me up and holds me quite easily in his giant arms.
"Yes, we are visiting my brother Hades in the Underworld." In a flash of light, we disappear.
At first, I think we made some sort of mistake in our travel. For a minute I am sure we have arrived in an airport in Siberia. The darkness isn't very thick for the Underworld, and the crowds of the recently deceased look more like they're waiting for a bus than their final judgment. A large arch stands tall over all the incoming souls, and proclaims in large letters: WELCOME TO EREBUS.
"Not very inviting." I murmur to myself. But my father hears me, and laughs loudly. We make our way past the lines of souls, and simply step through a pathway marked EZ-Death. We keep moving forward until a loud roar fills my ears. I look up into the eyes of the largest dog I have ever seen:
Cerberus.
He is huge, at least thirty feet tall, dwarfing even my father. The three headed rottweiler growls at us, strands of thick, slobbery drool running from his chops. My father waves his hand, and three steaks the size of car doors appear before the dog.
"I know my brother does not feed you well, my friend, even with all the services you provide. So please, take these with my thanks for your deeds."
I swear Cerberus smiles at my father's speech before digging into the meat. As we continue on our way, I have to ask.
"Can Cerberus understand us?"
"Of course. He once was capable of speech as well, though eons below ground with no one to talk to have withered away his vocal cords. Hades tricked him into his service, promising him the soul of a young girl he befriended who was slain by her father. Cerberus, as a puppy, had sworn to defend the girl, but failed. He has been waiting for her soul for over three thousand years now..."
I look over my father's shoulder at the great hellhound, and a feeling of deep sorrow fills my heart for the poor creature. But before I can think about it any more, we are stopped before a pair of giant doors. The doors are creepy; they depict acts of war and atrocities committed by humans upon humans. They are set into a wall surrounding a large palace, made of black marble and obsidian. It is beautiful, but in a dark and twisted way. A large creature, looking like a cross between a bat and a woman, with a healthy dose of demon kicked in, has swooped down in front of us. Her voice sounds like nails on a chalkboard.
"Who dares approach the palace of Lord Hades? State your names before I throw you into Tartarus!"
My father just tightens his hold on me, before giving the weird woman a glare that could scare off Medusa herself.
"Tell Lord Hades his elder brother wishes to speak with him. And if you touch a hair on my son's head I will turn you into a throw pillow."
The creature can tell my father isn't joking, or incapable of following through on his threat. She takes off over the wall and leaves us before the grisly doors. Soon, the doors open and we enter Hades' hall.
The interior of the palace is beautiful, but in a different way from my father's Palace of Light; the walls, floors, columns and ceiling are all shades of black and gray. The floors have veins of raw metals running through them, and every column has at least one large chunk of raw gemstone set into it. The ceiling is most impressive; it has stars, properly spaced ans sized, that mimic the night sky perfectly. I can also see his wife Persephone's touches here and there in the form of orchids, roses and lilacs in vases set between pillars.
At the end of the hall are two thrones, seated against the back wall. The smaller throne is unoccupied, and looks like it is made out of woven branches and vines, and is covered in closed flower buds. The throne that is occupied is made out of black marble, and inset with golden symbols of death and destruction, along with a few choice gemstones. The man seated in the throne is none other than Hades, Lord of the Underworld.
He is tall, and extremely gaunt. His skin is albino pale, but his hair is pitch black. He has sharp, angled features some might consider handsome, but others cruel. He has a thin beard, and his eyes... his eyes are black as a moonless midnight, and filled with the gleam of a genius- or the mad. His robes are almost as black as his eyes, but seem to have souls woven into them, giving them a shimmery, liquid appearance. The look on his face is an equal mixture of annoyance and surprise.
"It seems Alecto spoke the truth; you have indeed come to visit me, Aurelius. It has been a very long time... brother." The God of the Dead's voice is smooth and slick, a voice that madmen must hear in their mind before committing unspeakable acts. "Though an interesting turn of events, one must ask of themselves why you, after an absence of over two thousand years, finally decide to pay your eldest sibling a visit out of the blue?"
"Technically, Hestia is older than you, Hades. She just prefers to take the form of an eight-year old; though you are my eldest brother. I have come for two reasons. The first is for introductions; Hades, meet your nephew, Perseus." My father sets me down on the cold floor, and I lower myself into an honorable bow.
"Lord Hades, it is an honor to meet with such a great god as yourself."
Hades snorts at my display. "He has your manners alright, Aurelius. Though as far as I recall, you swore to never sire a child after all that unpleasantness, didn't you?" What 'unpleasantness' does Hades mean? I'll have to ask my father later.
"He is my adoptive son, though he is as close as to my flesh and blood as possible."
"Well, I suppose he seems well mannered enough... What is your second purpose?"
"Perseus needs teachers, and I was hoping to convince you to lend me the souls of a few heroes. It would mean a great deal to me, and even more so to your nephew."
Hades leaps to his feet, anger burning in his onyx eyes. "Of course you need my help. The only time anyone ever comes into my realm is when they need me. And after I'm done, what do I ever get? A quick thanks and a one-way flash back to this abysmal hellhole! I can't leave for very long without the entire place erupting into chaos, and the rest of Olympus uses it to keep me down here. So why, pray tell, should I help you now?"
"Because," my father starts slowly. "this is a good chance to prove how selfless you truly are. I remember a bright eyed young god who would do anything to help those who needed it, and was caring enough to cause a thousand nymphs to cry in loss when you took this throne. Where is that god? Where is my little brother Hades?"
"Buried beneath thousands of years of other people's footprints, because he was the gods' doormat." Hades growled at my father. But his words have struck a chord; I can see it in his eyes.
"Fine. But let me ask the spirits who I have in mind their thoughts on the issue, and give you some time to think on it. Please? For me?"
Hades sinks back into his chair, mulling it over. "Fine. You may ask the ghosts you want if they would be willing to train the brat. But don't expect me to change my mind; I rarely do."
"But you always do what is right in the end. Thank you brother." As my father starts to glow, he adds, almost as an afterthought, "You'll have to watch Percy while I'm gone. Thank you!" With a laugh at Hades' sputtered outrage he disappears.
Hades stares at the spot where my father was just standing, then turns his gaze to me. I meet his gaze, but make sure not to stare. After a few minutes we are both still staring at each other, without talking. My legs are starting to cramp, but I make no motion to sit down. It would be rude. Finally, Hades speaks.
"Aren't you going to demand my aid, and beg me to help you train to become a great hero?"
"No, Lord Hades. This is your domain, and I but a humble guest. I would not dream of making any demands while here."
He seems impressed by my answer. "Why haven't you sat down yet? By now most of my visitors have collapsed to the ground. The air in here drains the endurance of demigods, you know."
That explains why my legs feel like gelatin. "It is in poor taste to sit when your host has not yet given you permission to, or offered a chair to sit in."
Hades shakes his head, but snaps his bony fingers. The shadows under me swirl and form a black stool. "You may as well sit down. Don't want the Golden Boy Scout to find you collapsed on the ground when he gets back."
"Thank you, Lord Hades." I gratefully settle onto the stool, pleasantly surprised to find the top covered in black velvet.
Hades leans back into his throne, steepling his fingers over his lap. "So tell me, boy. What has my brother told you about me? How I am the monstrous God of the Dead, ready to rip the soul from your body? The one who denies mothers from seeing their children's souls? The cause of all death in the world, ready to wage war on my family at any minute?" He sounds bitter, and resigned at the description.
"Not at all, Lord Hades. My father speaks of you with nothing but awe and respect."
This seems to take him by surprise. "Really?"
"Of course. He admires your strength, the way you maintain your humanity even when surrounded by nothing but darkness century after century. He believes that you were given a raw deal, and managed to make the best of a bad situation, turning what could have been a virtual death sentence into one of the most important factors of life. You keep the balance in humanity, making sure they know what awaits them if they cause destruction upon their brothers. He once said that he respects you the most out of all his siblings. And he said that he was beyond proud at how you have lived your life."
Hades looks speechless, and I'm not surprised. From what I can gather, Hades has never been complimented before. "Aurelius... said all that? Truly?"
"Yes, my Lord. He loves you; you're his brother, and he is so proud of you."
"And you, bo- Perseus, what do you think of me?"
"I feel I must agree with my father. You are one of the strongest people, gods or otherwise, I have ever heard of. As the eldest son of Kronos, it was your rightful place to inherit his throne. But you let your brother take the throne to avoid conflict. And when you were tricked into taking the Underworld as your home, robbing you of your place on Olympus, you understood how important this position was to the world. Instead of plotting revenge, you took this job seriously, and have been doing it the best you can since the dawn of time. In every story I have heard of you, you are a fair, wise god, who values honesty and keeps promises, even when they are not to your advantage, because that is what is right. You are truly a god worthy of respect, and I feel lucky to be able to call you, even distantly, family."
If Hades seemed speechless from my description of how my father felt, he looks almost on the verge of tears at my feelings on the matter. He stands up suddenly, and smiles. The smile wipes the gaunt, empty look from his face. He looks kind, and caring. I can suddenly see the resemblance to my father.
"Perseus, would you care for a tour of the Underworld? I do not believe I have ever actually given one before."
"I would like that, Lord Hades." He strides forward, and I stand to join him.
"Please, we are family. You may call me Uncle, if you like."
I smile widely, and take his hand when he offers it to me. It is surprisingly warm, and soft.
"Okay Uncle Hades. Um, you can call me Percy if you want."
Hades smiles down at me. "Alright... Percy. Let us explore the wonders my domain holds."
Aurelius' POV
That went far better than I could even have dreamed. Every hero I asked agreed to help train Percy. The original Perseus seemed eager to meet someone who bore his name once again. Hopefully Hades will have changed his mind by the time I get back; with every hero agreeing to help, I can not wait to start the training. And maybe some time with the boy had changed his views on the matter. That was why I left them alone together, after all.
Flashing back to the throne room, I am surprised that no one is here. There are only the two thrones against the wall, and a black stool facing Hades' throne.
"Hello? Percy? Brother?" I wander through the hall, approaching the entrance once more. My stomach is uneasy. Hades was in a rather sour mood when I left. He couldn't have... done something to Percy? Could he?
As I exit the palace and start to walk through Persephone's Garden, brushing my fingers against the dark burgundy pomegranates, I hear two sounds that freeze the ichor in my veins:
Hades' booming laughter... and Percy screaming.
I run towards the sounds, forming Glorious in my grasp as I go. I am going to murder my brother, tear his essence to shreds, scatter them into every septic tank in the world, then grind them into dust to fill an hourglass that will never sit still ever again.
I round the bulk of the palace to see Hades, laughing up to a Fury, who has something dark attached to it. Hades calls up to the Fury, "Not so high! I can't see you!" Just as I am about to cleave my brother's head from his neck, the Fury dips low enough so that I can plainly see... she is giving Percy a piggy-back ride.
"Not so high, Megaera. I want to make sure Percy stays safe!"
I am not ashamed to admit it- I am completely lost here. I return my sword to its chain form around my wrist.
"Hades? What, uh, what is going on?"
Hades spins around, and smiles at me, which only confuses me more. Hades hasn't smiled since his last children were born, almost a century ago. "I was giving Percy a tour, and had the wonderful idea to give him an aerial view of my realm."
"Percy? You called him 'the boy' not a half hour ago."
Hades scoffs. "He asked me to call him Percy. If that makes him happier, then that is what I will call him."
This alone tells me Percy must have really hit it off with my brother. He is kind of weird when it comes to his name. He only lets people close to him call him Percy, since it was what his mother called him. In fact, only Ilex and I can call him that without him correcting us. And now, it appears he has offered Hades the same closeness, and considers him his family. I am overjoyed. The Fury lands, and Percy jumps off her back.
"Thank you for the ride, Ms. Megaera." The Fury smirks and bows before flapping her leathery wings and taking off. Percy runs forward and hugs Hades' legs. "That was really fun, Uncle Hades! I could see all over the Underworld, from the Isles of the Blessed all the way to Tartarus!"
I chuckle. "Uncle Hades?"
My brother ignores me as he crouches down to hug Percy. "I'm glad you had fun, Percy. You know, I think you might be the first demigod I've ever remotely liked. And that you are my nephew is a true blessing. I have a gift for you, if you'll accept it." Hades holds out his hands and a circlet of black metal forms between them. The metal absorbs the light in the area, and is giving off a black fog, obscuring any details on the object. "This coronet is very special. It is the symbol of office of one of the few Titles I have any right to offer. So far, no hero has ever impressed upon me enough to warrant this gift. But in this one day, I can tell that you have great things ahead of you, my boy. So I offer to you the title of King of Ghosts and Spirits, the highest honor that I can give. Will you accept?"
I am beyond shocked. Never have I seen Hades even mention this gift to any mortal, even his own children. He must truly care about Percy. Even I am not entirely sure as to what the title entails.
"I would be honored to accept such a wonderful gift. But... I haven't done anything to deserve it. Isn't there someone more deserving?"
Hades chuckles. "So humble... I have seen every hero that has ever lived pass beyond my gates, Percy. I know what makes them great. And you have that greatness within, tenfold. You may not have done anything to deserve this gift yet, but I know you will."
Percy stares at his shoes for a moment, before raising his head, smiling. "Alright then, Uncle. I would be honored." Hades rises, and places the coronet onto Percy's head, where it shrinks to fit just above his ears. The metal gives off one last plume of dark smoke, before the fog turns to a small flickering black flame, completely obscuring the metal entirely. "The crown burns with your life force, and the title is accepted. All hail Perseus, King of Ghosts and Spirits! Always shall the shadows aid you, and never need you fear the shades of the dead; they will follow your orders without reservation."
Percy smiles and hugs my brother once again.
"Congratulations, Percy. Never have I seen my brother impart such an honor on any mortal before. And I have even more good news; every hero I asked has agreed to train you! Now, if only my brother Hades would change his mind...?"
Percy stares up at Hades with puppy-dog eyes. Hades sighs, but smiles and ruffles my son's hair.
"I agree to your request. Percy must be trained, by the greatest teachers there are. On one condition:" I hold my breath in anticipation. Hades looks sternly at me, then grins. "Percy must come and visit me at least once a month. I want to get to know my nephew."
"That seems more than fair, wouldn't you agree Percy?"
"Yay! I get to visit every month. I can't wait to come back, Uncle!"
"Well, you could always have a little 'accident' and stay forever..."
"HADES!" I roar, shocked that he would even suggest such a thing.
"I kid, I kid. You have no sense of humor, brother. Make sure to visit soon, alright?"
I gather Percy up into my arms, and have to restrain a hiss as I touch his new crown; it is freezing. "Of course. Farewell, brother! You are in my debt."
"Goodbye, Uncle Hades! I'll visit soon, I promise!"
Hades waves goodbye as I start to glow, ready to teleport, allowing my aura to reach the heroes I intend to take with me. "Goodbye, Percy."
In a golden flash of light, I return Percy and myself home, ready to start his training anew.
Percy's POV
"Faster, Perseus! You must move faster!"
"I'm trying, Master Achilles!"
I duck under a lightning fast spear thrust, and dance on the balls of my feet, avoiding every blow that come my way. Achilles is merciless; he knows where I'm going to be before I do, it seems, and is ready with his spear. The style of fighting my father taught me, the swirling, twisting motions, almost like dancing, are good for this type of battle. I simply avoid the spear thrusts in a twirl of my feet, slapping them with my own spear to divert their path when I know I can't avoid them. Unfortunately, Achilles is also fighting in a very motion-oriented style. He leaps and jumps, never in the same place, always moving. I can't help but wonder how anyone managed to get him in the heel when he never stops moving. A lucky opening, and I press my advantage before he closes it. I dash into his space, where his longer spear is too unwieldy to be useful, and slam the flat of my shorter spear's head into his spear. It falls to the ground with a clatter, and I spin to my right, avoiding the dagger I know he drew and attempted to stab into my back, before coming to a rest, panting, with the edge of my spear poking right into his neck.
"Do you yield, Master?"
Achilles grins and drops his dagger. "I yield, Lord Perseus. You have finally beaten me."
"I am no Lord, my friend. We are equals here, in the field of battle."
"Or, in this case, the field of 'your father's fancy Arena for mock battle'. But I get your point. And I thank you."
I step back from the ancient warrior, and bow. He mirrors my action, his transparent body glowing faintly in the bright lighting. "What a marvelous week, isn't it Perseus? You finally defeat me, yesterday you made a battle plan that worked better than Theseus', and managed to wrestle Bellerophontes into submission. You are very close to taking your place as the greatest of all heroes."
"I thank you, Master Achilles. But I believe the last two years of incredibly strict training might have had something to do with it." But I still grin at the compliment. I have bested several of the most powerful, most famous of all heroes! I am one step closer to obtaining my goals.
"Well, that goes without saying, obviously." The dead warrior says with a smirk. "Now, don't you have somewhere to be? I believe you are late for sword practice with your namesake."
"Oh, gods! I have to go, thank you Achilles!" I drop my spear and run out of the Arena as quickly as I can, leaving a laughing Achilles in my wake. I stumble on my crippled leg on the way. In battle, I never misstep, but when I run otherwise I always trip at least once. In record time I manage to make my way to the swordsman's quarters. Perseus doesn't like training in the Arena; he prefers to fight in the smaller training grounds attached to his room. I find him there, sword fighting with a golden warrior, completely decimating the conjuration. The original Perseus is tall, and has a very long reach, making him a natural swordsman. He is not very muscular, which surprised me, but being incredibly fast makes up for it. With a final flourish, Perseus decapitates the summoned warrior, who collapses into dust at his feet. The legendary son of Zeus turns to look at me.
"You're late, Perseus."
I bow quickly, reigning in my heavy breathing from the run over here. "I apologize, Master Perseus. I was training with Master Achilles, and lost track of time." I break into a grin. "But I finally managed to beat him, though."
The ancient hero lets out a loud belly laugh. "Congratulations, young hero. You seem to be besting all of us at our own game. But you have yet to beat me. So come; let the battle begin." He raises a shining silver sword. I will my khopesh to form in my hand, and slide my feet into the relaxed pose of a master swordsman.
Without a word, Perseus strikes. His style is composed mainly of slashes and stabs, where mine is a mix of swings and chops. They counterpoint each other nicely. Neither of us has a shield; Perseus fought many battles without one, and claims only a warrior who can't avoid attacks needs one. I dodge the first strike, but it was a feint, and he turns the momentum into a spin and brings his sword down hard into my ribs, bruising them through my armor. Disoriented, I manage a lucky block, catching his sword in the curve of my own. I knock his sword away and manage a chop to his shoulder, which he easily steps out from, leaving a long scratch along his arm. Unbalanced from the attack, I cannot block the flat of his blade slapping my head, leaving my ears ringing. I don't go down, instead taking the chance to spin away, bringing my sword perfectly horizontal and slashing at his chest. He is too close to dodge, and takes the full slash across his chest, knocking him backwards. He stumbles, and I press the attack in a flurry of slashes and heavy chops. If he wasn't so gods-damned fast, I would have landed three times as many blows. As it is, this is the best I've ever done against the hero. Finally, I knock his sword away and hold the outer edge of Honor to his ghostly neck.
"Do you yield, Master Perseus?" I can't believe it; I have bested the greatest swordsman in Greek history.
The hero smiles up at me. "I yield. Truly, you are a master of the blade, young Perseus. I am honored that you carry my name." I offer the fallen warrior my hand, and pull him to his feet.
"Tell me, how are you so fast? I couldn't even come close to hitting you half the time."
"Ha! That was hardly fast. When I wore the sandals of Hermes, I could move much faster than that. A shame I no longer have them; they would have been a fitting gift for you, a prize for besting me."
"What happened to them? Did Lord Hermes take them back?"
Perseus shakes his head. "I left them in the grove where I slew the Medusa. Athena bore me back home, where I saw upon the way fair Andromeda being harassed by the Kraken, and I slew the beast with the gorgon's foul head. The sandals are probably still there, come to think of it. The grove is hidden to those who are not told where it is."
My mind starts to whirl as thoughts form, and I have an idea. "Master Perseus, could I find the grove if you told me where it is? I wish to recover the sandals."
"Yes, if I told you where to find the accursed grove, you could enter freely. But I must warn you Perseus; whenever a legendary monster, such as Medusa, is slain for the first time, they leave behind a scent that draws in other beasts. The grove is no doubt swarmed by lesser monsters. But I can tell you are determined. Come, I shall draw you a map..."
With the map and Perseus' blessing, I seek out my father to explain my plan. I find him reading in the library. I can't help but notice an odd change in my father over the past few years. If I didn't know any better, I would say he's... aging. His skin is a shade paler than when I first met him, and I swear his hairline has receded a tiny bit. He also doesn't wear his armor as much anymore, preferring long, soft robes of woven gold. But his eyes glimmer with the same life, and his smile is as bright as ever.
"Ah, Percy. How has your training gone today?"
"Excellent, father. I managed to force both Achilles and Perseus to yield in battle."
"This is wonderful news, my son! You are becoming a mighty hero indeed."
I smile at his praise, and feel a blossom of pride bloom in my chest. "I actually came to ask you something. I want to go on a quest."
"What? Whatever has brought on this desire?" My father looks more intrigued than concerned, though.
"Master Perseus told me the sandals of Hermes he was given on his first quest were left in Medusa's Grove. I wish to retrieve them, and return them to Lord Hermes."
"And why do you wish to do that?"
"Because it would be good practice for future quests, and I am sure Lord Hermes would appreciate them being returned after so long. Please, dad?"
I know the last part got him. "Alright. Do you know where to go?"
"Perseus gave me a map. The grove is located on a small island off the coast of Sicily. I just need to get there, and I can find the grove."
Aurelius nods slowly. "I will send you to the island, if that is your wish. But if you are not back in three days time I will tear the Mediterranean Sea apart to find you."
"Love you too, dad. Alright, let's go!" My father waves his hand, and I disappear in a flash of golden light.
Medusa's Island is a lot smaller than I was expecting. Hoisting the backpack my father gave me, because I was too excited to remember one, I climb a small hill and can see every beach on the island at once. I breathe in the salty air, and smile. Apart from my visits to Uncle Hades, I haven't left my father's palace since he took me in.
According to Perseus, the entrance to the grove is hidden behind a curtain of ivy, hanging from a split rock formation. I wander the island for half an hour, wondering if the grove has been destroyed in the intervening years, when I spy a tall, craggy spire of rock that looks completely out of place. A curtain of leafy green ivy hangs down one side. I smile and approach, only to stop dead at a growling sound. I turn around, and see a pack of three dozen hellhounds has swarmed behind me. They look just like the monster Aurelius saved me from, all those years ago.
But they seem so much smaller, now. I can see their stances, and know which ones will attack first, and which will dash to the sides. I can see where their muscles bunch and move, and know the limitations of their bodies. I can see the hunger in their eyes, and know which ones will try to run, and which will stay and fight. I will Honor to form, and ready myself. The first wave leaps at me, and I spin and strike them into dust before they get close to me. The ones that dashed to the sides try and flank me, but a well timed whirlwind spin and they leave pretty golden trails on the ground. The hungriest ones just lunge at me, but I chop through them with ease, dodging their simple bites and thrusts. Soon, all that are left are me and four others. I spared these, because I know they will flee. I feint an attack, and all of them turn tail and run away.
Smiling, I walk through the ivy and into Medusa's Grove. I don't know whether the grove is underground, or the rock extends further back, or it's just magic, or some combination of the three; but the grove is not what I expected. A large, roughly circular cavern of stone. Vines of flowering green hang from the ceiling, giving the place a surprisingly bright atmosphere. A few ruined columns, covered in purple flowered vines, surround a small pool. The crumbled shell of an ancient Greek house sits against the back wall. I approach the pool, and see a long, low couch beside it. According to myth, Perseus snuck up on Medusa while she was gazing at her horrid reflection, and took her head before she knew he was there. Moving forward, I see something settled on the couch. A pair of ancient sandals sit on the couch, covered in a fine layer of dust. On each side of the heels of the sandals are long, elegant, white wings. At my approach they flutter softly, as if sensing my presence. I take off my socks and shoes and tuck them in my back pack, seeing a square of ambrosia and a flask of nectar nestled in among a sweater and a few throwing knives. I pick up the winged sandals; the leather is surprisingly soft and supple for being so old. I slip them on, and they fit perfectly. I can feel the powerful magic within the sandals, and an almost tangible longing to move. Almost instinctively, I tense my muscles, willing the power in the footwear to surge forward. In a heartbeat, I have shot out of the cave and past the boundaries of the island. I hear a dull thud, and vaguely register I must have broken the sound barrier.
It's then that I realize that I'm flying.
I would expect that flying with wings attached to my feet would feel like my feet were being yanked upwards, but that's not it at all. It feels more like I'm standing on a large mattress, the wind gently lifting me up, keeping me aloft. I think about moving forward, and I drift a few feet. I think about going higher, and shoot up at least a dozen. I couldn't help the grin stretching across my face if I wanted to. I lean forward and shoot across the open sea, letting out a long stream of woops and cheers. Soon, though, I remember why I wanted the sandals in the first place. My face falls a little at the thought of giving up the footwear, but I know it's the right thing to do.
"Um... can you -guys? I'll call you guys... Can you guys get my thoughts?" I think to the sandals, feeling very foolish. I feel less foolish when I get a very strong feeling of YES! from them, along with gratitude that I freed them from the cave after so long.
"Okay, good. Well, I rescued you guys because I wanted to bring you back to Hermes. And, um, I'm not sure how to find him...Can you help with that?"
Instantly I feel a tug pulling me up and forward, and I just let the sandals drag me to Lord Hermes. We went faster and faster, the landscape blurring beneath me. I vaguely register a large city -New York?- before swooping straight up, past the tallest reaches of the Empire State Building, up into the clouds. And then I saw it, in all its shining glory:
Mount Olympus.
The sandals pull me forward so fast I shoot past minor gods and spirits walking the streets. My tailwind lifts up the skirts of a passing goddess, and I blush crimson. Soon enough, the sandals stop me dead in front of a large palace. The building looks like a post office/hospital/hostel/pawn shop all rolled into one. Fitting, I suppose, for the God of Messages, Doctors, Travelers and Thieves. I approach the front door and knock, hesitantly.
"I'm not taking any new orders! I'm backed up enough as it is!" I hear a reedy voice call out.
I knock again, louder this time. "I thought I told you-" The door burst open, and Hermes stands before me, looking pissed. "No new orders!"
The God of Travel has short, curly black hair sprinkled with gray at the temples. He is rather short, barely taller than me, but very athletically built. His eyes are sparkly blue, and his face brings a mischievous sprite to mind. But he looks anything but spritely right now, with his face beet red and a scowl twisting his features into a grimace.
"I'm not here to place any orders, Lord Hermes." I say respectfully, making sure to bow low. I can tell he's on a short fuse right now.
His scowl softens by a fraction, but only just. "Fine. Sorry if I snapped at you. Things have been piling up lately... you take a two-hour lunch break and it all goes to Hades!" He sighs. "What do you want?"
"I'm here to return your sandals, Lord Hermes." He looks down at my feet, and notices the winged footwear.
"I haven't loaned out any of my sandals recently. Not for two hundred years, since Athena's kid Napoleon needed to get off that island. Where'd you get them? Some knock off shop run by a son of mine?"
"No, sir. These are your original sandals. The ones you gifted to Perseus to slay the gorgon Medusa."
Hermes looks shocked. "But the idiot lost them over two-thousand years ago! How'd you find them?"
"Perseus mentioned where they were, and I thought you might like them back."
Hermes rubs his chin for a moment before stepping aside and gesturing into the palace. "You better come in and tell me everything." I step past the god and enter the palace, which looks like an overstocked storeroom at the moment. Piles of crates, boxes and envelopes, all bearing the seal of "Hermes Express", litter the halls in piles reaching the ceiling. The god pushes a pile of crates off of a pair of sofas. One of them growls.
Hermes sits and I do likewise. "So, tell me your story, son."
And so I do. I explain how I'm a son of Aurelius (adopted), how I've been training for the past five years to become a hero, how Hades was kind enough to lend the souls of heroes to help train me (he was shocked at that one), and how after besting Perseus in battle Perseus mentioned how he lost the sandals and that I wanted to recover them. Hermes sits there, stunned, before leaning back. His shoulder brushes a box, and the whole pile comes crashing down. He lets out a string of Greek curses before waving his hand and resettling the mountain of packages. He sighs, before clasping his hands to his head and staring at the floor.
"This... is a mess. Well, before I get sidetracked with the massive amount of deliveries I have to make, let me welcome you to the family, cousin. I'd offer you some sort of reward for returning my sandals, but I'm swamped lately. I guess... do you want to keep them? I mean, I know they're two millennia out of date, but they're the originals."
"Um, I'm honored Lord Hermes, but I didn't want a reward. I just thought you might like them back. Though, if I might make a request?"
"Fine, fine, what is it?" He looks bored.
"Um... no offense, but... do you need any help? I mean, this looks like a lot for even a god to handle by themselves."
"Did... did you just offer to... help me?" I can't tell if he looks furious or relieved. "No one ever helps me! There have been heroes who refuse quests that involve helping me. Heracles almost failed because we were toying with the idea of making his last labor taking over for me for a day! Are you serious?"
"Of course, Lord Hermes. If I can ever offer someone help, I will. That's what heroes do, right?"
"Yes, but almost all have forgotten that fact. Alright. You can help me, and get some practice with those sandals, because you're going to need them. Prepare yourself, Perseus Jr. You probably are going to regret this."
How bad could it really be?
I was resting in my room after being thoroughly chewed out by my father. That's what I get for disappearing for four days... Though his anger softened a little when I told him I was helping out Lord Hermes. Or Hermes, as he insisted I call him. "We're family, cuz. Just because my father needs everyone to bow and scrape to him doesn't mean I do." I had asked him to call me Percy, and he seemed to appreciate the difference between me and "the idiot who lost the greatest pair of shoes ever made". The shoes that were now resting comfortably on my feet.
I was bone tired. I hadn't slept since agreeing to help Hermes. He had introduced me to the joys of Olympian Coffee, and the rest is a blur of jittery memories. I remember delivering a crate of manticore spikes to Hecate... and getting a large bag of drachmas to deliver 'really, really quickly' to some cyclops in San Francisco... and a shipment of dresses ordered by Lady Aphrodite. Who, I had discovered, has never heard of putting on a robe to answer the door. Seeing the Goddess of Love and Beauty answering the door in a negligee made of spider silk and dew drops would stay in my brain forever, no matter how embarrassing it had been.
But I was glad I had helped. Hermes seemed so grateful, and had given me the sandals, along with his blessing. I could now pickpocket almost anything from anyone, and would always have a path available to me wherever I traveled. Both of which would come in handy someday. But for now, I just wanted to sleep for a week. Though I couldn't wait to try out my new incredible speed and agility, benefits of the sandals, during my battles with the other warriors. I drift into sleep with thoughts of battles floating through my mind.
"Perseus, my son, we need to talk."
Uh oh, I thought to myself. Whenever my father uses my full name I know he wants to talk about something serious.
"You have surpassed my wildest dreams in regards to your training. There is nothing left for the heroes of old to teach you, and they have all returned to Elysium. Your skills with the sword, spear, dagger, hand-to-hand, tactical planning and battle strategy are unmatched by any I have seen. But,"
Here's the problem...
"You need more training with the bow and arrow. You definitely do not have the... natural gift for it that you seem to possess with your other arms. Perhaps if Orion had trained you longer..."
"Hey, I do not regret what I did to that creep. He deserved it, and you know it." We were standing in the Arena, talking about my training. My thirteenth birthday was last week, and on that day I had surpassed all the heroes, both with and without the added gifts of my magical sandals.
Now, we were talking about archery. Orion had been there to teach me archery in the beginning, but after hearing him brag about his... exploits, I had banished him to the Fields of Punishment. There are definitely perks to being the Ghost King!
"I mean, a guy like that, who not only hurts women but then brags about it, like he's fucking proud of it! Hades should have torn him to shreds the second he got to the Underworld!"
"Perseus, language!"
"...Sorry, father. But you heard how he was talking about Lady Artemis." That got me off the hook. Artemis was my father's favorite niece, and whenever anyone tried to hurt her...
Aurelius sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. "I'm not saying he didn't deserve it. After hearing how he was speaking, around you of all people, I wanted to dissolve his very essence. I am merely lamenting the loss of the greatest mortal archer the world has ever known as your teacher. I have been thinking on this, and have come to a decision."
"That archery is not a very valuable skill anyway?" I try hopefully.
My father just laughs even more. "I wouldn't let him hear you say that; he's the god of it, after all."
"You don't mean...?"
Before my father can answer, the doorway leading into the arena opens in a burst of light. Unlike my father's light, which is warm and comforting, this light is hot and hurts my eyes. The glare fades to reveal a teenage boy, around seventeen. He is handsome, with sandy blond hair and an easygoing smile. Sunglasses cover his eyes. He is wearing a short sleeved orange t-shirt that reads, "Yes, I Am This Good Looking", a pair of khaki shorts and Greek sandals. A quiver of arrows is slung carelessly over his shoulder, and a golden bow is held loosely in his left hand. He is bobbing his head in time to the music on an iPod plugged into his ears. He walks towards my father and turns off his music.
"Hey, Uncle Aurelius! Long time no see, huh buddy? I hear you've got a deal for me?"
"Yes. Though I think introductions might be in order, first. Percy, meet your cousin Apollo, God of the Sun. And, more importantly for now, one of the twin Gods of Archery."
"Hey, pleasure to meet you, kid." I shake the Sun God's hand. It is perfectly manicured, yet surprisingly strong for such an easy going form.
"It is an honor to meet you, Lord Apollo."
"I'm sure it is. So, what was it you were saying about getting me some time off, Aurelius?"
"I have a proposition for you. I will take over as the driver of the Sun for a few weeks."
"Yes!" Apollo fist pumped the air."
"BUT..."
"Oh, man... always a catch..."
"But... during that time, I want you to train Perseus here as an archer. What do you say?"
Apollo crosses his arms, lost in thought, finally looking up at my father. "I have a haiku to explain my answer. Ahem." He clears his throat.
Days off are awesome.
Even when I have to teach.
I will train the kid.
My father sighs. "I thought you were over that whole haiku thing..."
"Nope. They're awesome, just like me." I already didn't really like this guy. He seems nice enough, I guess, but he's so arrogant. But he is the second greatest archer in existence...
"Alright then. Percy, during the duration of your training I will be driving the Sun Chariot. So I won't be here. I have left plenty of conjurations to care for the palace, and Ilex is in charge until I get back."
"What!? Come on, I don't need my sister to look out for me, I'm thirteen years old!" I argued. Some of my manners seem to be canceled out by teenage rebellion. Go figure.
"I heard that!" Comes a feminine voice from behind me. I let out a soft curse under my breath. Ilex marches into the Arena looking smug. She stops in front of me, and crosses her arms across her chest. "And yes, you do need me to look after you. Who knows what trouble you could get into without dad around? Remember when you convinced Hades to let Cerberus into the courtyard...?"
"I just wanted to play with him." I grumble. I had to clean up the drool for days...
My father sighs and turns to Apollo, who is trying hard not to laugh. "Is the chariot outside?"
"Yeah, here's the keys." Apollo pulls out a set of keys attached to a mini sun key-chain and tosses them to my father. After giving Ilex and me hugs, my father flashes out of the room.
Apollo claps his hands together before waving them. A set of archery targets appear farther down the Arena, and he hands me his bow and the quiver of arrows.
"Alright, let's see how you do, kid." He sits in a beach chair he conjures up, and poofs one up for Ilex after she coughs at him.
I take careful aim, pull the arrow back, and let it fly. It grazes the top edge of the target before sinking into the back wall. Apollo sighs mightily. "Well, it went in the right direction, so that's a start."
After a two weeks of Apollo's training, my aim hasn't gotten much better. I can usually hit the target, at least. So there's that.
"Alright, let's take five." The Sun God decides after I strike the next-to-outer ring on the target. He conjures up two folding chairs and a table between them. A pitcher of lemonade sits on the table with two glasses. I collapse into the chair and- carefully -toss down the golden bow.
"So tell me, have you ever had an archery teacher? Ever?" Apollo asks, taking a sip of his lemonade.
"Briefly. For about three days I was instructed by the archer Orion."
Apollo's smile vanishes instantly. "I see. And pray tell, what happened to him?"
"I banished him to the Fields of Punishment for eternity." I reply nonchalantly, sipping my own lemonade. A little too sour.
"Really? Okay, two questions: How? and, Why?"
"Well, I don't wear this just because it looks cool, you know." I say, tapping the flaming black crown on my head. "I'm the King of Ghosts and Spirits. Which means if I happen to think a soul has gotten the wrong outcome... I could possibly persuade Lord Hades to remedy the situation."
"Why would Hades give you the highest honor in his domain?"
"Because he loves me. And I love him, he's my favorite uncle. Granted, he's the only uncle I've ever met, but I still like him. No one ever gives him the credit he truly deserves; they're all too busy casting him as the boogeyman."
"...Alright. I'll buy that. But why would you throw away the greatest mortal archer to ever live as a teacher?"
"Because you didn't hear the things he was saying. He actually bragged about raping the princess Merope, before he took up with the Hunters of Artemis. He almost did the same to one of your sisters hunters, and went on and on about how he was this close to 'getting that tease of a Moon Goddess' maidenhood'. He tried to give me pointers on how to pretend to listen to a woman's feelings to seduce them. After three days I couldn't take it anymore and ordered the other heroes to beat him senseless, before commanding him to sign up for a tour of the entire Fields of Punishment."
Throughout the course of my story my voice gets louder and louder until I'm practically shouting by the end. And Apollo looks furious but also... proud?
"Good for you, Perseus. I was never happier than when my little sister finally came to her senses and killed that bastard. I can't tell you how upset I was when he got Elysium. It took a while, but it seems like he finally got the afterlife he deserved. Though, that still doesn't answer why you would do that. You've never even met Artemis, and to be honest, she wouldn't lift a finger to save you if you were in trouble. She hates men with a passion that's a little scary."
I look at the bow I threw to the floor a few minutes ago. "My father likes her. She's his favorite niece, and if he cares about her I care about her. And I just can't stand men like that. That's the kind of man my step-father was. The kind to take advantage of others just to hurt them and make themselves feel more important. I hated the way he acted, so I took matters into my own hands."
I feel something on my shoulder. Apollo is patting me on the back. "Thank you. I'm glad that some people still have a little decency left, like you. Makes me proud."
I stare at Apollo. "Aren't you the god who consistently frequents nightclubs to flirt with drunk women and has one of the largest group of demigod children besides that pig Ares?"
He tugs at his shirt collar. "Um, well, technically yes... But I never force anyone into anything. And I would never hurt any of the women I'm with. And I always check up on my kids, unlike my half-brother. Ares has had so many die off before they got to camp he's singlehandedly raising the demigod mortality rate."
"Fine. But you have to admit you're still a womanizer. Now, can we get back to training? I'd like to see some improvement at least."
"Sure thing kid. Actually... you know what? I like you. I'm gonna give you my blessing." Apollo's hand starts to glow brilliantly, and he reaches out to touch my forehead. Instantly I feel the knowledge of how to perfectly handle and care for a bow, how to fletch and care for arrows, how to craft both, and most importantly how to use them. I get to my feet and pick up the bow and quiver. Quickly and without hesitation I put an arrow to the string and let it fly. Before it has gone a foot I have another notched. In rapid succession I launch two dozen arrows until the quiver is empty. The first arrow strikes dead center of the target. The second arrow splits the first arrow. Each arrow in order splits the one preceding it, like in a cartoon. Finally all two dozen arrows have sunk into the same place in the target.
I turn to a grinning Apollo. "We couldn't have done that two weeks ago?! Seriously?"
"Well, my blessing is special. I couldn't just give it to some random stranger, now could I? Also... I kind of wanted to milk my free time."
I sigh. "Fine. Thank you, Lord Apollo, for your blessing."
"Hey, just Apollo, kid. Anyone who'd sentence a dead hero to eternal torment for my baby sister's honor is a good guy in my book. And you definitely seem like a good guy." He pulls me into a man hug.
I smile. "Call me Percy."
Ever since my father came back from his turn driving the Sun a few months ago, he's taken a much larger interest in the outside world. We explore the world around us, and it's nice for a change of scenery. Don't get me wrong, the views of northern Greenland from the windows of the Palace of Light are awe inspiring. But my father finds parts of the world that are filled with the sort of raw, natural beauty that hasn't existed since Pan walked the world.
Today we are walking through the hills of northern Greece. Something is different today, though. There is none of the carefree chatting we usually do, and instead of wandering as we will, my father seems to have a destination in mind. Eventually we stop in front of a green valley, a short distance away from Mt. Olympus. I can see it on the horizon.
"Perseus. Do you know what will happen in three days time?"
"In three days... the Winter Solstice. The Council of the Gods will meet."
"Correct. I will be expected there... and I want you to accompany me."
I'm shocked. No god ever brings their demigod children to the Council meetings. It's unheard of. "I'm honored... but why?"
"You will become very important someday soon, my son. Olympus will learn of your existence sooner or later. And this way, we may do it on my terms. But just in case something goes wrong... we're here for a little insurance." My father snaps his fingers, and I can feel the powerful veil of the Mist part before us. What was just a moment ago a small green valley is now a deep valley situated between two giant rocky mountains. We enter the shaded valley, and I can still feel the thick layers of Mist unrolling around us.
"Pop Quiz, Percy; tell me what you know about the Aloadae."
"Okay. The Aloadae were the two giants Otus and Ephialtes. Twin sons of Iphimedia, wife of Aloeus, by means of... Poseidon." I can hardly say his name for all my anger. "They were incredible hunters, and grew quickly. By the end of their days they stood at nine fathoms tall. They decided to storm Olympus to claim Ladies Hera and Artemis as their wives. Ares tried to defend the mountain, but the two were too strong. They bested him in combat with no difficulty. They sealed him within a bronze vase for a week and a day. They were so strong they could move mountains with their bare hands. They stacked smaller mountains until they made a staircase that reached the peak of Olympus. On the eve of their ascent Lady Artemis learned of their only weakness; they could only be slain by each other. She took the form of a beautiful doe and bounded into their camp. Being skilled and arrogant hunters the pair couldn't resist the challenge, and threw their spears at the creature. But Lady Artemis disappeared at that moment and the spears flew into their chests, killing them both."
"Very good Percy." My father stops walking in front of a giant rockslide. "And their essence was so powerful it never reformed from Tartarus. There was never enough energy for them to gather enough to return to earth. But the power of their blessing remains within their bones."
I'm about to ask what any of this has to do with a valley, when the final layers of the Mist peel away, and the rockslide is no longer a rockslide.
A giant skeleton, at least fifty feet tall, lies against the side of the mountain. What appeared to be a tree branch growing off the side of the mountain is now revealed to be a spear, sticking through the monstrous creature's ribcage. Stunned, I spin around and see another skeleton of the same size against the opposite mountain, only this one's spear is lodged in its throat. Both of them are covered in growth and vines, the bones bleached white by centuries of sun and wind.
"Perseus, I am going to transfer the Blessing of the Aloadae to you. Sit in the middle of the two ancients." I can only nod as I make my way to a raised stone halfway between the two skeletons. I dully register that this must have been where Artemis took the form of a doe as I sit down.
My father raises his hands and starts to murmur in a language older than Greek. A stream of golden fire pours forth from both of his hands and fills both skeletons. With a deep creaking the bony behemoths start to shake and rise. The chest-wound giant pulls its right arm from beneath the earth and points at me, the tip of its bony finger not a foot from me. The throat-stabbed skeleton's right arm is detached, but it still floats in the air as if it were still connected, and mirrors the action.
My father's chanting reaches a crescendo, and falls silent. I sit in the utter silence, the two corpses of the fallen giants on either side of me, their dead hands not a foot away. Then with an earsplitting boom the two start to dissolve into golden fire, swirling through the air to coil around me. As the fire fills my skin I want to scream, but I can bring forth no noise. It feels like sandpaper is being rubbed over my skin, exfoliating with battery acid. All the fire fills my body, and still the skeletons dissolve, and even more fire fills me.
It might have taken a minute, or an hour, until the last trace of fire is absorbed. When it is over I collapse forward, breathing heavily. My skin feels... weird. Like I just took a really hot shower and the steam is still sticking to my skin. Not unpleasant, just odd. My father is at my side in an instant, holding me up.
"I'm so proud of you, Percy. I can think of no one else strong enough to receive the blessing without burning away." I look to the side, and see the large indent in the mountainside where one of the skeletons once sat.
"So... so what does the blessing... what does it do?" My mind is still kind of blurry. I see my father conjure up a golden longsword and bring it down hard on my head. Before I can react, it connects.
And shatters into a thousand pieces.
I can feel it perfectly, I can feel the razor sharp edge, and can feel every shard as it shatters. But they don't hurt, or break my skin. If anything, they tickle.
"With the Blessing of the Aloadae, no one can hurt you. Except you. And natural accidents, technically. But against monsters, heroes, gods... you are untouchable. The blessing also grants you the giants' strength. Come."
My father lifts me to my feet. I'm already feeling better. He guides me over to a boulder at least ten feet tall. It must weigh five tons.
"Lift it."
I stare at him like he's lost his mind, but move to lift the stone. As I crouch and dig my fingers into the bottom of the stone, I feel them actually dig into the bottom of the stone. I slowly stand, and almost fall over in shock as the boulder rises with me. It weighs, to me at least, as much as a gallon of milk. I get cocky, and take one hand away, holding the giant rock over my hand on the palm of my right hand.
"Now you are ready, my son. Now you are ready to become the greatest hero who has ever lived.
Standing here, the strength of the giants in my blood, the powers and blessings of my family coursing within my body, I feel inclined to agree.
A/N: Okay. Longest chapter I've ever written, for anything. This all kind of fits into the category of Percy's training, so I couldn't break it up. I wanted to really show the fact that all the gods and goddesses are technically Percy's family, so I added in the scenes where he earns their love and respect. Plus I like Hades; he never gets the love he deserves. Don't get used to chapters this long, either; it physically hurt to write one so big. Next chapter has the young hero meeting the Council of Olympus! How will Poseidon react? Well, if you review you'll find out much faster.
*Hintity hint hint*
