A stunned silence descended upon the pair, but was soon broken by Percy lunging at the taller man. Before Damien even had time to blink, he was shoved harshly against the wall with a knife placed against his throat.
Percy asked lowly, "What do you mean, disowned?" He pushed the knife closer to Damien's neck, almost breaking skin and drawing blood, but not. Percy was confused at what the older thief said about him being disowned. He thought that was a bit too drastic. Percy hadn't used his powers since the day when he was abandoned and continued to not use it by his own free will. He thought of it being an act of rebellion against his father for abandoning him, not using his powers to spite Poseidon. Before he met Damien, he didn't even think that even if he wanted to use his powers, he couldn't. Percy was determined to get answers out of Damien.
Percy stared at Damien, his eyes blazing, though even with a knife under his neck, Damien could see the confusion in the young disowned demigod's eyes. If Percy was still a demigod, his sea-green eyes-supposed Damien-would probably be blackened with rage, and with his father, Poseidon-thought Damien-being his father, his eyes would probably reflect the sea, just like his father. Damien knew this because when he was younger, his instructor took him along with other children to Olympus to see the, O' So Mighty, gods of Olympus. Right know, Percy's eyes, the used to be bright green, the specks of green in his eyes decorating his pupils, were darkened so much that it nearly blended in with the color of the rest of his eyes.
Percy growled, a threat evident hidden underneath his voice when Damien didn't respond, "Tell. Me," or else I will dig the knife into your body even more.
Damien responded quite calmly dispute the situation he was currently in, "First-" Damien abruptly cut himself off and before Percy knew it, he was on the ground with his own knife against his throat.
Damien stared down at the boy underneath him, holding the knife at him, pointed at his neck, just as Percy had done to him. Damien expected that even though Percy was a mature kid, he would be begging for mercy, to save his life. Along with the whole 'I-will-never-touch-you again-in-my-life-please-let-me-live', completed with a scared expression. But he was not. He was just staring at him wide-eyed and asked the question that Damien least expected to come out of his mouth, "How did you do that?" awe evident in the boy's voice no matter how hard he tried to hold back the emotion.
Damien replied, still a bit shocked of the boy's actions, "Not telling." Damien actually just flung his hand up. effectively knocking the knife out of Percy's hand, causing the knife to fall to the ground. After that, he pushed Percy to the ground before swooping up the knife in his hand and holding it to Percy's neck. In one fluid motion.
Percy frowned, a bit sad that he wouldn't find out how the other thief did that, "Fine," he relented, "but still tell me about the whole disowned thing."
Damien was surprised, you would think he would be bothered that a knife was held underneath his neck, but he wasn't bothered in the slightest, but agreed, "Sure, sure."
Percy bargained, "Okay, so how about you let me up and give my knife back, and I will not attack you anymore. Okay?"
Damien gave no vocal answer as he just stood up, removing the knife from Percy's neck and holding out the hand not holding the knife to Percy. Percy grabbed the hand and pulled himself up. Damien silently handed over the knife, "Thanks," said Percy, grabbing the knife and sheathing it back into his sheath.
Damien started, "So, about the who disowning thing, it is very simple. To say at least. The godly parent just proclaims the demigod they are about to disown, disowned. Very simple."
Percy cocked his head, "How do you know that?"
Damien looked reluctant to answer.
Percy kind of begged but not exactly, "Please?" Percy looked like he tried very hard not to ask or beg Damien, but the temptation of actually know something defeated his pride.
Damien sighed, "Fine. I am also a disowned demigod." He bowed mockingly, "I am Damien, ex-demigod of the great god, Hermes."
Percy mused, "Hmm... That makes sense." Seeing Damien's confused look, he explained, "It explains why you are so good at stealing and pick-pocketing. Though, I could tell that you stole something from me," Percy said that last part in a somewhat gleeful tone. And/or a somewhat bragging tone.
Damien just grumbled something incomprehensible.
Percy continued, returning the favor in which Damien had told him who his parent was, "I'm Percy, just discovered ex-demigod of Poseidon, the god of the sea." Percy held his hand out and Damien clasped his hand in Percy's, "Hello, recently-discovered disowned demigod."
Percy smiled slightly, a ghost of a smile appearing on his face before disappearing, "Hello to you too."
A small silence settled among the two before being broken again, the ex-son of Poseidon said to the ex-son of Hermes, "Well, it was nice meeting you and clearing that matter up, but I have to leave."
He spun around on his heel and strode towards the mouth of the alley, leaving behind the ex-son of Hermes.
Damien stared at the ex-son of Poseidon's retreating form calling out suddenly, "Hey! Do you have anywhere to go?"
Percy stopped in his tracks mumbling, "No," so quiet that Damien almost missed it. Damien was about to say something when Percy turned around, whipping out his sharp knife, toying with it, "Of course I don't. I'll just continue on whatever I was doing. But I have to vent out my anger at Poseidon somewhere." A slightly sadistic expression crept onto his face.
Damien frowned, this wasn't the kid that was in front of him a couple minutes ago. Damien laughed, "What are you going to do? Maim gods in an attempt to hurt Poseidon? Well, tough luck kid. That ain't going to happen."
The younger boy looked up at Damien, "Why not?" and turned to leave before Damien brought up another fact, "How are you supposed to do that without training. There are demigods have a camp in which they go to, to train with weapons, you would never stand a chance against them, much less gods."
"Then I won't target gods. Plus, if those demigods are as good as him, then I wouldn't have any problems."
Damien looked confused, "What do you mean, him?"
"Of course my ex-brother, Theseus Jackson."
That name sparked with recognition in Damien's brain, but he couldn't quite remember where he heard that name from. Damien almost got it, it was at the tip of his tongue. He murmured, "Hmm... Theseus... Jackson... Jackson... The... Prophecy child? Right?"
"Correct."
Damien blurted out, "Other demigods are much better than him."
"Mh? How do you know?"
Damien didn't know. He stayed silent as he searched his mind for an answer for the younger disowned demigod.
"No answer," said Percy without any emotion, though slightly amused. "I will be leaving now."
Damien desperately used his last card, "The other demigods might think you are working for Kronos."
Percy's arm moved like a blur and his knife sailed past Damien's face, nearly leaving a cut, "Don't you ever say that." Percy had heard enough of the name. Constantly thrown about in the house. "Theseus will defeat Kronos." "Bad Kronos." "-Kronos-" "-Kronos-" "-Kronos-"
The older thief could clearly see that those words hit home. "You don't want to be Kronos do you? So don't kill people. You don't want people to hate you, do you?"
"I don't want people to hate me, I want people to fear me. What is better than making an infamous reputation among the mortals, effectively making myself known among the mythological world."
Percy effectively stunned Damien into silence, striding forward to retrieve his knife that was embedded in the wall before seemingly disappearing. Damien shook his head, "Percy? Percy?" He looked around, knowing he would probably never see that kid ever again.
He was right.
Deep inside a small neighborhood, a thump echoed through the air. Inside the house in which the thump originated from, a small child sat huddled in a small corner of the house. Though the child looked really young, like about seven, eight years old. The child was actually nine, ten years old. The child's body was severely malnourished and the child sported a bruise on her cheek. Another thump sounded before a drunk man slurred, "Open the door!" Instead of opening the door, the girl seemingly shrunk against the corner even more.
An angered boy stared at the house, hidden in an alley, watching the event occur, just waiting for the right time to strike. His body tightly coiled, holding back an onslaught of raw emotion, ready to let go at the right time, just like a snake.
The drunk man stumbled away from the door and started waddling towards the couch in front of the television. The table sitting next to the couch, sat a delicious plate of food. The wonderful aroma drifting to the drunk man's nose, penetrating the alcohol-induced haze. The man quickly scarfed down the food before settling on the couch, only to fall asleep immediately. Only to never wake up.
In a small, but pretty well known school in San Francisco, a cluster a students made their way towards the school. Happily chatting along the whole way. Among the whole way, no one noticed a lone boy walking quietly among the crowd with a goal in mind and a small girl making her way to the school, but shying away at every hint of a touch.
The school day breezed by and a loud, shrill bell rang. The girl took slow deliberate steps with impending doom on her mind. She was so sucked into her own world that she jumped in fright when a quiet male voice said from behind her, "Hello." One could mistake the boy for shy, but if you looked closer, you could see the hidden confidence within him.
She stuttered, "H-Hel-llo."
He had a small smile on his face before it disappeared, "Don't worry. I will not hurt you, but I do know how you father treats you."
She spat out her thoughts before she had time to think about her words, "That... That... Monster is not my father."
"I understand."
"No... No, you don't."
"Yes. I do. I had parents that neglected me."
She stared at the boy and a glimmer of tears shown on her eyes, the tears threatening to spill over onto her cheek, "I bet you didn't have a family member that hit you?!" She made the question sound more like a accusation.
The boy looked at her with sympathy prodding at him and some sympathy poked through, "I'm sorry. That is why I am offering you to take you away."
The girl looked at him with guarded eyes, ready to run away at any moment, "Who are you?"
The boy stepped forward and at the same time, the girl took one step backward, "My name is not important, but that place I am offering to take you to is safe for young girls and women like you. The leader is really nice to girls, but hate men. Men are not allowed in that group of girls." The boy blanched at the thought of what would happen to boys if they somehow encountered the group of dangerous girls. The boy really didn't want to add another girl to this group of girls, but in some ways the boy owed it to the group to help their numbers grow.
She narrowed her eyes, "Will I be safe?"
The boy almost sighed at how hard it is to convince recently abused children, boys too, "Yes, you will."
The girl contemplated her options. She could either go back to her drunkard of a father or she could go with the mysterious boy to this mysterious group of girls.
She finalized her decision after a while of uncertainly, "Sure... I'll go with you. But hurt me in one way or the other and I'm leaving." She was uncertain because this was the first time that she had trusted a boy, outside and inside of her family.
"Agreed."
Without another glance, the boy walked away fully expecting the girl to follow him. The girl ran to follow him, "Wait up." The boy gave no response. He just continued walking.
The girl asked curious, "What is your name?"
"Classified."
The girl frowned, "I'll tell you my name."
The boy made no response other than a nod.
The girl introduced herself, "I am Melanie."
The boy stayed silent as the pair approached the forest.
Melanie poked at the boy, "Now it is your turn to tell me your name."
"No," was the cold response to her jab.
Melanie stayed silent after that answer, walking beside the still unnamed boy through the forest.
Through the think greenery of the forest, the glow of orange and yellow lit up an area in the distance. The boy stopped and pointed at the glow, "That is where you have to go."
"Also," he requested, "please keep any hint of someone guiding you here."
The girl padded toward the light and away from the boy and tried in one last attempt, "Can I please know your name?"
"No." Then, the boy ran into the forest away from Melanie's sight.
Melanie stepped forward and pushed aside a long leaf to step out into a clearing with girls dressed in silver huddled around the fire.
She waved meekly at the crowd, "Hi. I'm Melanie."
Another girl with silver eyes seemingly appeared in front of her, "Are you seeking to join the Hunt?"
Melanie wrung her hands, "The Hunt?"
The silver-eyed girl said in a regal tone, "Yes. The Hunters of Artemis."
Melanie looked around, fear creeping in on her, "I don't know! My father abused me and someone told me that I could be safe here!"
The girl's eyes softened, "Yes. You could be safe here. Do you want to join our family?" she gestured to the group of girls, "You could learn to protect yourself from the monsters of the world."
Melanie replied confidently, squaring her shoulders, "Yes. I will join the Hunters of Artemis."
The girl smiled, "Welcome to our family, sister."
The boy sat on a high tree branch, high enough to not be seen by the Hunters, but low enough to watch the site. Despite his opposition to the gods and goddesses, he slightly smiled at the scene that played out in front of him. That girl deserved a new family. He didn't want anybody to suffer the way he did or suffer even more than he did. He truly believed that the girl could find family in the Hunt.
Though a question plagued him. Why did he add another member to the Hunt's ranks? He constantly consoled himself that it was because he owed it to the hunt. But why did he owe it to the Hunt?
*Flashback*
A boy ran through the forest before shouts burst through the air. The shouts captured the boy's attention and the boy started to run towards the commotion. The sight that greeted the boy was horrendous. Disfigured... monsters fought against teenage girls who was armed with bows, arrows, and knives. Though, there was no swords. The boy stared at the battle despite the fact that the situation unfolding in front of him could potentially kill him. His eyes followed the girls' every movement as they battled the monsters with an unorthodox grace like a dancer performing on stage.
The boy vowed to himself that he would learn to be just like the group of girls in front of him. Though he did not dare to ask the girls.
For the next couple weeks, the boy followed the group of girls wherever they went, learning the girls' styles and skill. He pushed himself to the limits watching the girls train with the deadly weapons, but always stopped before he collapsed so he could still follow the group if they decided to go somewhere. Over the next months and the following months, his training started to show. But he was not satisfied. He watched as the girls nocked arrows on their silver bows before letting go. Watching with fascination as the arrow glided through the air and thumped against the target. Dead center. So, he performed his first heist. He stole a silver bow and silver arrows in a quiver. Least to say, the heist was successful. It was surprising even to him. He practiced with the bow and knife every single day. And practiced. And practiced. And practiced even more. Practiced until he is satisfied, but he won't be satisfied for a long time.
*End Flashback*
The boy traced the smooth bow with his finger as he was pulled out of his memories. He nocked an arrow and pointed it at a nearby tree, aiming carefully, before letting the arrow go. The arrow flew through the air and impacted the tree right where he wanted the arrow to go.
He sighed in contentment, training has paid off. Now, he needs a job that has good pay and has something that has to do with the skill of his weapons, bow and knife.
Percy was not in complete satisfaction of his skill.
But it was enough.