-Chapter Two: A Settling Space-

Gone for a long time, wasn't I? Completed school, joined college, moved across, blah blah, last few months have been wild. Whatever... just read the chapter.

Seems like I mixed up Percy's character in the last chapter haha. As some of you pointed out, I now understand that Percy does not have a hero complex. Loyal to a fault but not a hero complex, got it. Well, I am too lazy to go back to the last chapter and fix it, so I will just keep that in mind in the future. Meanwhile just assume he took the "second chance" to live free of the Fates' dictation, but eventually, trouble finds its way to him, like always.

A bonus something at the end to make up for my absence.

Read, Favorite, Follow, Review, and Share. Well, reviews do help so...

Beta'd and improved by Adrien Zviaguine. Check his own works out on Ao3 under the same name.

~KloseKom

Approx 7.3k words

Percy was out of the mansion even before thunder had responded to the flash of lightning.

Arms outstretched, he stood in the vast garden, eagerly awaiting the summer tempest. Dark, heavy clouds loomed overhead, and soon enough, the `torrential downpour began with an almost surreal eagerness. The contact with water immediately washed away his fatigue, both physical and mental, and a sense of tranquil calm washed over him, soothing his tumultuous nerves. He felt rooted, the water ready to act on his whims, and the storm above seemed to reach out to him, bending to his will. This was his birthright, his divine power, one of the few things left to remind him of the world that was now far gone.

The past few weeks may seem very relaxing to someone observing with a casual eye, but Percy knew better. Or maybe 'worse' would better describe his case. The gravity of the situation, the fact that he was in a whole new existence, that he would never see anyone from his own world, came down crashing a few days later. It hit him hard. After puking his guts out one day, he absolutely lost his appetite. In the week following, Percy would rarely talk or eat. He missed his home, his own world, he had lost so much that it was beyond comprehension, he felt deprived, lost by himself, alone.

He had saved everyone. Grover, Thalia, his mom, Chiron, the Gods, Annabeth, he had saved them all. At what cost? Percy had regretted his decision soon enough. The Moirai had quite literally sold him their idea, he had been brainwashed into believing this was the best choice he could have taken. Indeed, the idea of a life devoid of the intervention of Moirai was enticing enough at that time, enticing and rash. In hindsight, he should have gone to Elysium while he had the chance, atleast he would have been among his people. Because for choices like these, there always was a catch.

This was the catch. Crushing loneliness. Loneliness in a world full of life.

Well, atleast now he understood why teens were not allowed to make important decisions.

So when Robert Montfort, his patron, a jolly man in his late forties with greying hair and a very caring personality, with genuine concern for Percy's wellbeing, suggested that he should atleast try to talk to a Mind Healer, he accepted, putting aside the scepticism that was gnawing at the back of his throat.

It was really just the Mind Healer prodding him with questions at first, with Percy answering vaguely, in single words or with as minimal an effort as possible, preferring to just fiddle with Riptide in its pen form. Not until the fourth session did the dam break. Percy just broke. He told him all he could without obviously revealing his true origins, he told him about his mother, his friends, his mentor. It was the first day the Healer was silent and it was Percy who did the talking. And that was the day his recovery really was underway.

Adrienne was a graceful and stately woman also in her forties, with a heart as vast as the night sky. She had never had children of her own and as such was very unsure of how to respond to Percy's plight, yet she had done her best to be there for him. So when Percy, following the Healer's advice, had sat beside her one evening and initiated a seemingly simple conversation, something related to her days at school, her heart had melted. Maternal instincts stirred within her, and she vowed to do all she could to keep the smile on his face.

In a heartwarming fashion, the Montforts grew on him, as did he on them. It was quite obvious, if someone cared to look closely, that somewhere in all this drama that had unfolded, the way they saw him had changed. While no one would take his mother's place, if the Montforts indeed see him as the child they never had, he would not deny them this joy, nor would he deprive himself of the joy of belonging that was slowly surfacing again in this vast new world.

All this was last week, leading to today, the fifteenth of July, 1991.

Out in the garden, Percy shook his head fondly, forcing away the bittersweet tears that threatened to spill. He had grown accustomed to these bouts of sadness, a reminder that his humanity was still intact and that he still had the capacity to feel emotions. His mind had wandered down memory lane, and without realizing it, he had woven the water around him into his faithful pegasus. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Gods, Blackjack would be so mad at him for leaving him alone, something about not giving him enough sugar or donuts. As mundane as it was, his humour was peeked by this.

The sound of the rain pattering against the grass muffled Percy's laughter, which was long and free. It was the first time he had laughed since he had arrived. Today had been his last session with his healer, and truly he felt healed in both body and spirit. He felt liberated, and the downpour filled him with a sense of elation and joy, intoxicated by the feel of the water around him.

"Mon Dieu, Percy! Get back in!" He turned around to see Adrienne, yelling at him from under an umbrella, standing on the first-floor balcony. "Do you want so much to be taken ill?"

She had tried her best to act stern, she really did, nevertheless she failed. His genuine happiness turned out to be quite infectious, the small smile that had appeared on her face was proof of that. Percy just grinned in response. Someday, sometime, he would tell her how wrong she was, that nothing else would make him feel more at home than being surrounded by water, but not today, not so suddenly.

Today was supposed to be the day when he went to visit Diagon Alley, a long overdue visit. In a world where a wand was everything, it was a must that he gets his own. Apparently, he had lost his old wand, and truth be told, he had no intention of questioning how the Moirai had made it seem so; how they managed to make up a believable past for him was beyond him. And knowledge given by them had stretched as far as academics and no further, so now it was really up to him to figure things out.

No better place to start than perhaps the most hyped shopping district of magical Britain. There was another district somewhere in Paris, but Diagon Alley was still bigger and almost the same distance from where Chateau Montfort was, so it did not really make sense to go over to Paris.

That afternoon, Percy got to know a lot of things about magical travel. First and foremost, portkey travel was not very user-friendly, especially for a first-time traveller like him. Landing face first on a rough floor in a bustling market street was not the ideal landing he had planned for. The venomous 'skata' he said as he got up and dusted himself proved to be the source of laughter for the nearby shopkeeper, even though he clearly did not know the meaning.

"First time?" The shopkeeper's British accent was strong. Percy just glared, huffed and turned away. Apparently, this hit to his ego had reverted his emotions back to that of a toddler. That was why a chuckling Robert had to reply in his stead.

"Of course. Still quite surprised by his control over his stomach. Dumped my lunch the first time I did." He added with a laugh.

"Well then, good day, sirs." With a tip of his hat, the shopkeeper went back into his shop.

Robert dragged a still grumbling Percy with him as they began their journey through the bustling street towards Ollivander's. Despite his rough landing, Percy was wholly captivated by this new place. The idea of a whole society of magical people hidden beneath the everyday world still astounded him, and to actually witness it with his own eyes was a surreal experience. The hustle and bustle of the busy street, the use of magic as common as breathing, it all served to make Percy take in every little movement around him, his ADHD not making it any easier.

Ollivander's was not the type of shop he had anticipated. Blame it on his upbringing in a bustling city like New York, where showrooms were grandiose with bright neon signs beckoning to passersby, he had expected a multi-story building with a vast selection of wands on display and eager assistants greeting any customer who entered. Imagine his disappointment when his vision was replaced by a humble establishment that more closely resembled a shack than the renowned shop that everyone seemed to know about.

The door creaked open, revealing a dimly lit shop with a desk up front and seemingly endless rows of stacks of boxes containing wands. Percy's mind immediately flashed back to the attic in The Big House, and he shivered involuntarily. A sudden loud clatter from the back of the shop startled him, making him jump and scoot closer to Robert when the white-haired, elderly shopkeeper abruptly scurried into view.

"Ah, Lord Montfort. Eleven inches, heartstring. Quite the loyal wand. But of course, today's not about you, is it?"

He finally looked at Percy, looking him up and down, studying him.

"And who might you be, young man? Definitely not a first year. Transfer student?"

Percy started fidgeting with his pen, as had become a nervous habit in the past few days. He dreaded that he would ask him what became of his old wand because, for that question, he had no answer. He looked up at Ollivander.

"Percy Jackson, sir. Lord Montfort is my patron. And yes, I am indeed looking for a transfer here at Hogwarts."

"American, huh? Interesting. That accent is quite recognisable."

Robert nudged him forward. Looking around at the possible thousands of wands, he stumbled ahead. He was really confused now. If no wand was at show, then how was he to choose? The old man had somehow already read his thoughts.

"It is the wand that chooses the master, my boy, not the other way around. Your personality, and traits, decide which wand picks you. You have no direct say in this matter."

Percy's eyebrows shot up with curiosity. Now, this was interesting. Also part relieved that no questions were asked about any old wands. Thank the Fates.

From somewhere beneath the front desk, Ollivander pulled out a box and carefully opened it. He took out the wand and held it out for Percy to try. It was a rather mundane stick of wood, he concluded; definitely not the sort that he had seen magicians using.

"Nine inches, holly, heartstring. Take it, young man. Take it and give it a wave."

He reached out and gingerly took the wand. Instantly, he felt a sense of wrongness, as if the wand was unbalanced, in the same way a sword would. Robert and Ollivander both looked at him expectantly, so he gave the wand a small, uncertain wave. The ensuing boom was deafening, and glass shattered and rained down everywhere. After a few moments of stunned silence, Ollivander took the wand away. Percy was certain that the booming sound had been heard by everyone in Diagon Alley.

"Quite definitely not for you." He had another wand ready. "Try this."

Percy gave this new wand a wave. This time it was a blinding light flash that made Ollivander snatch the wand right away.

"No rigid wands for you, mister. Try this one, cypress, phoenix feather, eleven inches."

This time the wand straight up rejected Percy. Funnily enough, it even refused to go into his hand, because when he tried, it just zapped both the old wand maker and Percy as a taser would, or really in Percy's case, as Thalia would. The wand maker released a deep breath.

"Now this is tricky. Not rigid, not phoenix feather. Hmm, this may take some time after all…."

And oh, how right he was. After an hour, ten attempts, a shop that was nearly destroyed, and three people who were thoroughly disgruntled, Ollivander still had not been able to find the right wand for Percy. The results had ranged from a gentle gust to a literal cyclone, a fireball, and even one wand that had spontaneously snapped in two. Percy, meanwhile, was growing increasingly impatient, his ADHD acting up. As Ollivander rummaged around in the back, Percy read off the labels on the shelves: Nogtail, Fairy Wings, Erumpent, Thunderbird….

Thunderbird.

For some reason, that name stuck. He did not even know what it was. A wood? A core? After all the wands he had tried, why not try this one too? When Ollivander came back with five more boxes, he just pointed at the thunderbird shelf.

"Can I try one of those wands once?"

Robert looked intrigued, the old man just dropped all the boxes where he was standing, curiously looking at Percy.

"Thunderbird Tail Feather? Of course, we can try. Very feisty, those wands. Only ever sold one, I haven't crafted others in ages and most of those are from ancestors. Though with the others' reactions, I wonder…"

Slowly, far too slowly for Perseus's impatient and very much anticipating mind, the old wandmaker made his way and picked a single box from the mess of clustered boxes thrown half haphazardly around the shelf.

From that single box, he took out perhaps the most unique piece of wood Percy had ever seen in his life. The wood that certainly should, and was on some part, bone white seemed to respire, like watery blue light pulsing along its length. As the wand was handed to him, what was clearly a small current of plasma and electricity swirling in his mind cemented it in his core.

Something, perhaps deeper than even he knew, was echoing the cry for this wand's loneliness, an abyss calling a peering person to jump.

"Fourteen inches, Yew, Thunderbird Tail Feather. One of my rarest creations, not only because I abandoned any hope of using this particular combination ever again… But because this wand specifically should not be able to function and yet… it does. As if it was defying the fate of all others I tried to craft before or after itself."

And something in what Ollivander said struck deeply in Percy's mind even as he barely registered the information that it was unique in more than ingredients. A wand that defied the fates of all others having tried the same. It seemed perhaps a bit too poetic and he wondered if, perhaps, something had been meant for this wand long before he'd even reached here.

Perhaps this wand would never have been given, perhaps it only existed because he was presently here. Perhaps, it was a gift from the three fates, or maybe from someone far above in the hierarchy.

As he took the wand in hand, a breath escaped his mouth at the almost desperate and forceful bonding the two of them made, with newfound confidence, a simple wave.

And in that instant, magic simply boomed like the thunder outside the shop. None of the men had realized, too absorbed by the potential and solemn bonding, the heavy clouds of a tempest reaching an alley where there should not have been any.

The booming, thundering sound of lightning striking in London was like divine wrath, diffused under the waves of magic escaping the boy and his wand. It was intoxicating, like drinking for the first time after such a long time spent drying in the middle of the sun.

Small droplets of water formed everywhere as they rose up in a fearful, if enchanting, display of might that left all breathless.

Then, as if nothing had been of the matter, all started again, the thunder grew distant, the water fell back down, and time seemed to unfreeze itself.

"W-Well that is most intriguing, Perseus Jackson. A wood that is said to give the owner power over life and death, an unusual core that is loyal to a level it can't be used by any other than its bonded, and a truly powerful core at that, along with an affinity to storms and water. Mr Jackson, normal is not a word that can ever be associated with you. That would be seven galleons, Lord Montfort."

Getting over his initial shock, Percy was delighted with his new wand, if somewhat surprised. A rare wand different from most others? Now that would set him apart. He grinned, thinking of the various spells his brain had been hardwired with. And of course, there were even more spells he could learn and use. He could perform magic now. His scheming was stopped short when Robert tapped his shoulder.

"Put the wand back in the box, Percy. You can properly use it when we get home. We have one more stop to make."

"One more stop? Where?" He asked as they exited the wandmaker's, his wand back in its box and tucked under his arm.

"Ah yes, this was something that I had meant to share over lunch. House Montfort has been invited by the French Minister of Magic to attend an official ball at his residence. While our focus may primarily be on British politics, it is important to remember that House Montfort is an Ancient and Noble House of France, and as such, it is imperative that we attend this event. As our newest member, your presence is highly anticipated and expected. We will be stopping at Madam Malkin's to ensure that you are properly attired for the occasion."

"And when is this event?"

"Tomorrow."

"Really?! And you are telling me this now?" Percy was taken off-guard. He knew next to nothing about Noble customs, only that old traditions were still prevalent in the magical society, and this too came from the textbook knowledge that had been implanted into his brain. And suddenly, he was to meet the Minister of Magic, not to mention other Lords, Ladies and Heirs.

Gods be damned, he did not even know how to even speak French.

"Deep breaths, Percy. You are panicking." Robert just sighed. Percy curled an eyebrow at that.

"What else am I supposed to do? You casually just mentioned that I am to meet the Minister tomorrow. I don't even know French."

"Relax, young man. You have to just introduce yourself, I will take care of the political stuff. Think of it as a party, there will be kids your age. Was it not what your healer told you to do? To make friends?"

A sudden pang of grief hit Percy. He looked down at the road, an unreadable expression on his face. When he spoke, his voice was low.

"What if I don't want to? I just can't. Not so soon…" The faces of many campers flashed in his mind.

Robert felt the pain in his voice. He put his hand on his head and ruffled his hair affectionately.

"Don't worry, Percy. I won't force you. Take all the time you want. But please just try, you never know how it can help."

Percy nodded, his gaze still fixed on the ground. Suddenly, they came to a halt, and he looked up to see a pet shop. Magical Menagerie. He gave Robert a quizzical glance, unsure why they had stopped there.

"Why don't we get a pet for you? It is very common here in Europe for magical folk to have a familiar."

"Seriously?" He had always wanted a pet, something that had been very unfeasible for him, living in a tight apartment in Manhattan.

The sudden change of demeanour and the look of pure joy on Percy's face, as he regarded him, filled Robert's heart with warmth. He empathized with the boy, he had lost everything back home, he just hoped he could provide Percy with some semblance of what he had lost. Taking a big stride, Robert opened the door to the shop, the bell chiming out in welcome.

"Welcome to Magical Menagerie. How may I help you, Lord...?" The young witch who came to the desk exuberantly greeted the duo, her voice trailing at the end as her eyes fell on the ring on Robert's hand, signifying his position as the Lord of the house.

"Montfort. Lord Montfort. We came here to get Percy here a new pet."

"Of course, Lord Montfort. Look around and tell me what you would like, Percy, if you don't mind me calling you that."

Percy gave the shop a once over, surrounded by the cacophony of the various different animals. His gaze landed on a snowy owl near the window sill, its unnerving stare giving him a chill up the spine. He took only a few moments to decide, or rather, decide against.

"What ones can fly? And umm, no owls please." Owls always made him uncomfortable. Annabeth did tell him that maybe it was because he was a son of Poseidon and owls were Athena's animals. As if on cue, a couple of them hooted loudly.

"Flying pets but not owls… Well, we also have sparrows, parrots, etc. Anything you are looking for in particular?"

He pondered over that. Maybe something that would remind him of home, something from his own continent?

"Do you have something… American?" He asked meekly, unsure of his own question. He was quite surprised when she laughed.

"Ah, should have recognised from the accent. Transfer student?" She asked with a good-natured smile. Her infectious smile also made it to Percy's face, who nodded at her with a smile of his own.

"Well, aren't you a lucky bloke? We have exactly one, and she too came yesterday only. Right this way."

She guided them towards the back of the shop, near a big cage that stood alone on a stool. From within the confines of the cage, he saw a majestic bald eagle, with her intense gaze piercing right through him. The iconic white and brown plumage was a sight to behold. It squawked at him, tilting its head inquisitively, intelligence glinting in her eyes. It was the best he could have asked for.

Percy casually glanced at the price tag, and his eyes widened in shock. He may not have been familiar with the magical currency, but even he knew that forty galleons were an exorbitant amount for a pet. Robert sighed at his downcast gaze, after all, it had been his suggestion to get him a pet, and it was not as if they had financial problems of any sort, that he could not afford said eagle.

"How much?"

"I can cut the price to thirty-five but no further, Lord Montfort."

"But that is a lot of money! I can buy something less expensive." Percy protested. Robert simply patted him on the back, smiling at his consideration, and handed the girl a pouch of galleons.

Five minutes later they were back on their way to Madam Malkins, this time with a heavy cage that had a beautiful eagle in it. As they approached the clothing store, the crowd thickened. This was a store that Percy realized was more of what he had expected to find in a shopping district, unlike Ollivader's. It was two storeys high and was as big as it was busy. Clothes shopping had always been one of the things that he had hated doing, and looking at the throng of people in it, he knew he was in for a very arduous experience. He groaned and just accepted what was to come.

By the time they returned to Chateau Montfort, Percy was utterly exhausted. Even the battle with the Nemean Lion had not left him this drained. Shopping had been a strange experience, and the worst part was that he still had no idea what to expect the following day; he had yet to learn the formal greeting customs, any formal customs. The clock struck seven in the evening, and he collapsed onto the ornate sofa, recklessly dropping the cage in his hand, resulting in an indigent squawk from within, his head pounding at the thought of the upcoming crash course on noble traditions.

"Mippy!" Percy called. The diminutive creature appeared with a pop.

"Yes, young Master?"

"Can you please take my wand and my pet to my room? And put a water bowl in the cage. Thank you."

Mippy beamed at Percy's gratitude and disappeared with them. He closed his eyes and let out a deep breath, sitting back in a comfortable position, remembering the first time he had seen a house elf, who, in this case, was an unfortunate Mippy.

He had almost even drawn his sword, Riptide, on her. She had wept for half an hour courtesy of the fear he struck into her with his intense, unknowing glare. It was only after Adrienne explained to him who Mippy really was that Percy finally relented. Since then, he always made sure to thank her whenever she did his bidding, hoping she would forgive him. Apparently, it worked very well, as she not only forgave him but also beamed with pride whenever he asked her to do anything.

As soon as he had rested for about ten minutes, Adrienne had come into the room with two cups of tea, seating herself opposite to him.

"Now, Percy, how much do you know about the pureblood traditions…"

Two hours later, Percy just trudged into his room with heavy steps, too spent to even seek anything else other than his bed. He crawled up on his bed, staring at the ceiling, groaning, head throbbing with all that he had to learn today. He truly wished it was actually as easy to learn as the Fates had made it seem, with a whack on the head with a stick. He lazily turned to his side, his mother's beautiful face staring right back at him from the framed picture on his side stand, and right beside it, was the box with his new wand.

He sat up, suddenly re-energized at the prospect of trying out his new wand. He knew it was illegal for anyone under seventeen to perform magic outside school, but he also had just learned that being a part of a Noble House did come with certain advantages. The authorities would rarely ever monitor the activities going on in a Noble Mansion and in a big house with many magical things and people and creatures who were legally allowed to do magic, he doubted anybody would notice if he tried a few spells. With that, he opened the box and took out his wand.

Unlike back in the shop, the wand did not react as vividly as it had. He still felt a tingling sensation up his arm but that was it. He just observed it for a long time, taking in the texture and feel of it in his hand. Tentatively, he gave it a wave, hoping to get a reaction out of it. The wand did not disappoint, several blue sparks flying out of the wand's end.

He closed his eyes and thought for a moment, cycling through the knowledge of spells he had been recently hardwired with. A spell popped into his head. Percy grinned.

He rushed to his balcony, moved his wand in a counter-clockwise pattern and shouted.

"Aguamenti"

The wand hummed a brilliant blue as an ungodly amount of water gushed from its tip, hurtling towards the garden in a powerful projectile. Percy anticipated the consequences and quickly cut off the magical energy he was channelling into his wand, simultaneously extending his other arm and pulling with all his might. In a remarkable display, the water stopped mere inches from the ground, preventing the almost inevitable almighty splash. He carefully transported the water beyond the property's boundaries and released it there.

He had done it; he had performed magic. He let out a triumphant laugh, not caring that he might appear to be a madman. As the euphoria faded, Percy, in a very un-Percy fashion, took some time to reflect on why the spell reacted the way it did, surprising himself. Was dyslexia really hampering his thought process that much? Did that mean he could absorb textbook knowledge more easily? Oh was that a shooting star–

He vehemently shook his head. Dyslexia may not be a problem anymore but ADHD still was. Nevertheless, he came to the conclusion that he had effortlessly overloaded the spell with too much magic, but the thing was he felt no strain within himself. That was when the Fates' words echoed in his mind. This was what they had meant when they told him he was different from the average wizard - he had an extraordinary capacity for magic. The first time he had picked up his wand, he had felt it connecting to his divine powers. Did that mean–

A sense of awe settled on him. His magical core; it was the same as his divine core. Call it intuition, but he was very certain that his inherent powers were far more powerful than any magic that had ever existed. He could maintain his demigod powers for an extended period of time before becoming exhausted, a benefit of being a child of an elder god. Consequently, it would take a considerable amount of time for magic alone to tire him out. And in a world where magic was everything, having a huge magic reserve was a massive advantage.

But that did leave him with a small problem. Control. Those who had less magic were naturally capable of controlling the potency of the magic put in each spell. But for Percy, it was very easy to overpower his spells without even realising it since his reserves were so big. Initially, it did seem quite powerful to spam spells relentlessly but a precise spell with accurate timing was far more useful than just overpowering the spells.

Percy, after a moment, decided to try something different. Trying to cast a new spell, he put as little magic into it as would be possible.

"Confringo"

This time around, the results varied greatly. Instead of the vibrant shine, the wand just glowed lightly before it shot somewhat still powerful orange sparks, the distinguishing colour for the given spell. Like a child holding a big candy, Percy beheld the wand, a huge grin on his face. He was hopeful that his intuition was correct. He had to try it just one more time to be sure. He cast another Confringo, aiming for a level of intensity between his previous two attempts.

A moderate shade of blue emanated from the whitish wand followed by a strong jet of fiery orange that shot off into the night sky.

Another big revelation. He was rooted to the spot, critically observing his wand. It seemed like his wand could project the intensity of the cast spell as a cerulean glow proportional to the applied intensity. It was probably just a gimmick, but it was still amazing that his wand could do something no one else's could.

His sleep long forgotten, he spent quite some time casting the various spells that he knew over and over with varying intensity. Initially, it was enjoyable to experiment with the limits of his magical abilities, but it soon became exasperating as he struggled to achieve the desired level of power, often resulting in an overabundance of energy. He got some peculiar results too, dangerously so; he did almost start a fire when he overloaded the warming charm. Or when his Protego made nearly took a physical manifestation with how potent it was.

That was when he slipped up, casting the light spell without putting much thought into it.

"Lumos"

He cut off the spell within a second, but it felt like the sun itself had descended onto Gaia herself. He immediately dropped his wand, clutching at his eyes, mentally kicking himself for losing focus on the power behind the spell so soon.

The fluttering and squawk from the corner of his room very easily distracted Percy. He had completely forgotten about his eagle, lost in the happiness of using his own wand, drunk on the feeling of doing magic. Still disoriented and blinking, he went to the cage and removed the cloth covering it. His eagle did seem quite unhappy, glaring holes into him.

"I am sorry. That must have woken you up." He spoke to the bird, not really sure if she understood him or not. She did puff out her wings, trying to convey 'you better be sorry', or atleast that was what he assumed she was saying.

"Do you have a name?" She croaked and did a pretty good imitation of a shrug, either that or he was really, really tired. He opened the cage, his eagle hopping out and perched on his outstretched arm.

"Of course, you don't. Can I call you Lola?" She pecked his hand, quite hard.

"Okay, not Lola. I am really not good at naming. Bella?" Hearing her trill, and not getting pecked on his hand, he assumed she liked the name.

"Guess we Americans have to stick together now, Bella." Percy chuckled lightly. He stroked her back, the eagle fluffing out its plumage and giving a content crow. Only after putting her back in her cage and watching her fall back asleep did he realise how tired and spent he himself was.

When he was finally in his pyjamas and under the covers, the clock showed a quarter to two in the morning. That was seriously late. Maybe his exhaustion had finally caught up but he really fell asleep the moment he rested his head on the pillow.

A few hundred miles from where Percy was resting in the comfort of Chateau Montfort, in a suburban house in a town that was slumbering away, under the lustreless light of a single lantern was spread the vast blueprints of an impressively big house. Around that sat a few individuals who were quite absorbed in their own observations of what lay in front of them. Across them, on the far wall was a bulletin board, newspaper cutouts pinned to various places. The red paint did catch one's sudden attention if given a once-over, haphazardly surrounding a handful of pictures.

"Tomorrow then. Make no mistake. Fast in, fast out". He said standing up, regarding his other companions, who were busy making sure nothing was left behind.

This really went on to show Percy's luck in these matters, or the lack thereof if frankly said. Even without the Fates dictating his life, trouble just had a way of finding him.

"No survivors"

The lantern was banished, a total eclipse of shadows engulfing the room. Soft pops echoed, and loneliness met darkness.

–Pause–

BONUS (Thalia's Perspective)

Thalia was transfixed, unable to tear her gaze away. Five minutes? Ten minutes? Time seemed to stand still as she remained rooted to the spot, her mind unable to comprehend the chaos that had unfolded in a matter of moments. The monsters were drawing nearer, and she knew that if she didn't act soon, it could prove fatal. She was aware of the danger that lurked ever closer, yet her body refused to move.

Atlas had been captured, and Thalia could still hear his bellowing curses echoing in the background. Artemis had almost instantly rushed towards her fallen huntress, and what surprised Thalia was that Annabeth didn't even give Percy a glance, instead hurrying towards the traitor. And Percy, teetering near the cliff drop, his mirthless smile seemed off, and everything about it was wrong.

Indeed her assumption turned out correct. As roaring thunder responded to her troubled state of emotions, she screamed out Percy's name, as he half stumbled, half-toppled over the edge. She saw him drop to the ocean and shoot off towards the cruise.

Wild speculations ran rampant in her mind. Had he betrayed the gods? She quickly dismissed that thought. This was her Percy, loyal to a fault. Why would he have betrayed them after aiding them in subduing Atlas? No, in the months she had come to know him, it had to be something foolishly impulsive to save them while putting himself in danger. Fear began to creep in as she watched the colossal vessel start to turn and sail towards the mountain.

She kept on staring until Annabeth's voice brought her raging mind back into the mortal realm.

"Thals, where is Percy?" Annabeth's voice was laced with concern but Thalia could not stop the scornful reply that tumbled out of her mouth.

"Maybe you would know if you had not run head first for that traitor, wouldn't you?" Thalia snarled. Annabeth just froze, fresh tears running down her cheeks.

Good, Thalia thought, she should realize her mistake.

Whatever more Thalia was about to say, she kept to herself as Artemis's chariot descended from the clouds onto the mountaintop. Thalia could sense the impending arrival of the monstrous army, and she sprang into action before Artemis even had a chance to shout at her to get on board. She grabbed a stunned Annabeth by the sleeve and dragged her to the chariot, practically throwing her onboard. Artemis wasted no time; she knew that they would be no match for the enemy in a full-scale battle, so she quickly took to the skies to avoid engaging.

"Lady Artemis, what about Percy?" Thalia just couldn't keep it to herself anymore, the concern and fear were almost overwhelming. Down below, Princess Andromeda was rocking back and forth, about to collide with the cliff face.

"It's too late–"

Artemis was silenced by the roar of water surging in colossal amounts. Thalia felt her throat tighten as she beheld the gargantuan wave rising from behind the cruise ship, dwarfing the immense vessel, keen on smashing it into the next era.

She tried to scream, but no sound escaped her lips. Her stomach churned with nausea, yet her body refused to respond. She was rooted to the spot, powerless to do anything but watch as the colossal wave, seemingly divine in nature, obliterated the ship. Percy might have been able to survive the wave itself, but the thunderous explosion that followed was too powerful for even a demigod to withstand.

She heard Annabeth's scream, Zoe's weak whimper, and Artemis's sigh of disappointment, but everything began to fade in and out. Thalia started hyperventilating, her hysteria intensifying with each breath. She could vaguely feel Artemis trying to soothe her, but the black spots dancing in her vision and the smell of burnt wood and iron permeating her senses were too overwhelming. After a few agonizing moments, her body finally gave in, succumbing to unconsciousness.

It was in the throne room that Thalia woke up in, being shaken by Annabeth, her grey eyes puffy and rimmed with red, and seeing Zoe missing, her heart sank further. The Gods were in some kind of heated discussion. Grover trotted over with a big smile, giving her and Annabeth a big hug before noticing something amiss.

"Guys, where's Percy?" He bleated, still not reading the situation.

Annabeth just burst into tears while she just shook her head.

"Don't joke with me Thals, it has already been a long night" Grover asked, directly looking at her, his big cheery smile now gone. She herself had not come to terms with the fact, what was she going to tell poor Grover? What would she say to Sally?

Instead, it was the God of the Seas himself who answered.

"He is gone, Satyr" Poseidon's voice seemed subdued, very unlike him. Grover just sat down right there on the marble floor. Whatever little ember of hope still burned was brutally snuffed out.

Thalia finally looked up at Poseidon when he answered in her stead. Even though it was the first time she had seen him, it felt like a familiar sight. Of course, she had seen him before - Percy was an exact, younger replica of the God standing before her. She knew that this wasn't how he usually appeared; his eyes were forlorn, his hair dishevelled, and he seemed distraught.

The throne room had gone completely silent, except for Annabeth's sobbing and the hearth's dulled crackling.

Apollo shattered the silence, his face bereft of any hint of the usual smile, instead replaced by a solemn expression that was mirrored by all the Olympians, save Dionysus, who remained fast asleep even in this dire situation.

"Why don't I feel the Great Prophecy?" He asked, panic evident in his voice.

"What exactly do you mean Apollo?" Zeus asked, confused.

"Precisely as I said. It is just… gone. My domain feels devoid. It feels like the prophecy was never there."

"That is because there is no Great Prophecy anymore." Poseidon answered once again, staring down at the floor, gripping his trident so hard that his knuckles had turned white.

"Kronos is dead. Gone. Scattered into nothingness."

Pandemonium broke in the throne room. Pure chaos erupted within the walls. Shouts, screams, and accusations were being thrown around. It became unbearable before a lightning and thunderclap from Zeus's Master Bolt quietened the room. Thalia felt her head about to explode.

"Explain, brother."

"Perseus Jackson climbed on board the cruiseliner that was operating as the Titan army's headquarters and himself destroyed Kronos's sarcophagus." He looked up, his swirling eyes reflecting sorrow but full to the brim with pride.

"He sacrificed his own life so we could live. He completed the prophecy even before it started. He won against the Fates themselves. He was Olympus's greatest hero, not even Herakles."

Poseidon slammed his weapon down on the floor, his trident humming with raw power as he surveyed each Olympian with an intense stare, daring anyone to challenge his claim. Even Zeus, who seemed ready to challenge him, relented in the face of his brother's unwavering gaze.

"Indeed, he was a man worthy of recognition. Rarely do I encounter a boy with intentions as good and noble as his. Not only did he free me from under the sky, and got rid of Kronos, but he also restored my late lieutenant's faith in men. Perseus Jackson shall forever have my respect, and that of my Hunt. For as long as my maidens hunt, Zoe and Perseus shall be remembered."

Artemis's sudden words surprised everybody. Thalia smiled, a small, sad smile. Her friend had been recognized by someone who despised men, in hindsight, something only he could have ever done.

Now it was Zeus's turn to surprise everyone as he slammed his Master Bolt to get everyone's attention, giving a glimpse of the just leader that he had been in an era bygone.

"So be it then. Hermes, Apollo, Athena, and all of the Olympians, spread the word. Return only when everyone learns of the heroic sacrifice of Perseus Jackson, son of Poseidon, slayer of the Minotaur, Medusa, Echidna, Chimera, Nemean Lion, retriever of the Master Bolt and Golden Fleece, vanquisher of Kronos, and saviour of Artemis, and the hero of Olympus. Ensure his noble sacrifice at just fourteen years of age is not forgotten. Make sure the legends of the greatest hero are immortalised."

Poseidon's eyes blazed with fierce, burning pride. Zeus regarded his brother solemnly, nodding his head in acknowledgement. The two most powerful gods raised their symbols of power in unison and slammed them down. A smell of petrichor filled the air and lightning growled as, for the first time in centuries, rain began to fall over Olympus. The dark nimbus clouds shadowing the citadel and the metropolis beneath wept for the loss of a great hero.

The rest of the meeting was blurry. It was just when Thalia was about to leave Olympus that Artemis found her, her striking silver eyes shining brightly in the drizzle.

"Thalia Grace, would you like to join the Hunt as the Lieutenant?"

–Fin–