A/N: I'm defiantly starting this story from Declan's POV, but I'm going to swap Declan's and Perseus' places, because it'll be a better story if Percy's the guardian, not Declan. That being said, it'll be a bit different then the usual Pertimis or The Golden-Eyed Swordsman in many ways.
Chapter 10- Phorcys, Keto, and Day Five
Percy's POV
I stumbled out of the shadows and into my room, glancing around to make sure no one was there, then hid Shadow under my bed. If they found me with Shadow, they'd kill me no matter what I say.
Checking the clock, I saw it was only a quarter past five, which meant I still had plenty of time. And I had something else to do. Leaving the cloak behind, I dressed in a tight gray t-shirt and blue jeans -a marked difference from the black I usually wore. Then, I shadow-traveled down to Atlanta, into a certain aquarium. I skipped the normal part of the building, shadow-traveling right into the Porky's Follies part.
"Keto, Phorcys, I know you can hear me." I called, "I have a deal that could end your imprisonment here."
Phorcys approached in his usual crab-walk, whereas Keto was practically skipping in from the opposite direction.
"Welcome to Phorcys' Follies!" Phorcys announced, and just like last time, the Telkhines didn't move.
"Let me guess: A double spin, then land in pyramid formation?" I asked dryly.
Phorcys spun to face me, surprisingly agile despite his weird walking thing," How-"
"Time for that latter." I cut him off, "Now, you guys don't like being imprisoned, and I'd like a certain sea-god to be attacked."
Phorcys looked at me interestedly, "Really? What would you propose?"
"I free you. Right here, right now, and in return, you build your forces quietly and wait for my signal to launch an assault on Poseidon." I said, "After that, I don't bother you and you don't bother me. Oh, and you'll probably have to work with Oceanus on this."
Phorcys nodded, "Free us, and I swear on the Styx I'll follow your orders as long as they're part of the attack. Keto?"
"What? Oh, I swear the same thing Phorcys did." Keto was looking at the squid tank distractedly.
"Keto, did you know that each of the monstrous squid's tentacles had sixty-two barbs that need to be sharpened daily?" I asked, getting Keto's attention. Good, I'll need her to like me. Or at least think I'm knowledgeable about sea-monsters.
"He can also eat a fully armored demigod without indigestion!" Keto replied eagerly.
"Really?" I questioned, "I thought it ate whales and small boats!"
"Well, it does, but-"
"Keto, you're doing it again." Phorcys growled. "Stop boring our friend."
Huh, last time I was here, they were trying to kill me. "Can you show me as far as you can go before whatever the Olympians did stops you?"
They nodded, walking over to an exit door. They couldn't cross the threshold, however, which was probably the only thing that kept them from chasing us back to the Argo II the last time I was here.
"Hmm." I looked at the doors, thinking. If this is like the barrier around Camp Half-Blood, they'd need a god's permission to leave. Or, more likely, this is something entirely different.
"And you can't get out the top of the building?" I asked, gesturing to the aquarium they had trapped Frank and I in. The only roof it had was a webbing of Celestial Bronze.
Phorcys and Ketos looked at each other, "Umm, we've never tried."
I sighed, "Well, try. I'll get Nemesis here if that fails. Any fountains nearby?"
"Just around the corner." Phorcys replied. Good. Can't have them think I'm Percy, and there's only been one son of the sea god in a few dozen years.
"Iris, goddess of the rainbow, show me Nemesis, on Mount Olympus." I intoned, throwing a drachma into a convenient rainbow that had formed from the fountain Phorcys mentioned.
The mist shimmered, Nemesis' face appearing and some kind of death metal was playing in the background. "Proctor?"
"What would it take for you to release Phorcys and Keto?" I asked.
"Not very much, if they'll handle Poseidon." Nemesis replied, "I take it that's what you want them for?"
"Something like that." I smiled, then heard Keto calling, "Sorry, I'll get back to you in a few seconds."
I spun, going back to the aquarium room, where Keto and Phorcys had somehow managed to get up and were now clinging to the netting, "There isn't anything stopping us from getting through, except that the gaps in the netting are too small."
Well, that I can deal with. "Get down, I need to get back to Nemesis."
The goddess still had the Iris-Message open when I got back, "Well?"
"Sorry, but I think Keto found a way around whatever Zeus did." I shrugged, "Oh, and thanks for telling Miranda not to kill me."
"Miranda?" Nemesis looked confused, "I didn't tell her anything like that. I talk to her, yes, but I've never said anything about you."
"Curious. Whatever, enjoy your day." I broke the call, then went back to the room, where Phorcys and Keto were on the floor.
Gathering my strength, I drew Shadow and formed a thick column of darkness in front of the blade, then drew the Sword back as if preparing for a thrust. Then, I shoved Shadow forward, the column mirroring my actions, smashing through the wall like a battering ram. When the dust cleared, I was left with a hole in the wall. "Here you go."
"Won't the Olympians know we've escaped?" Phorcys asked, looking around almost nervously.
"What, Olympians checking a mortal newspaper?" I laughed, "We're in Georgia, and I'll pin this down to a gas explosion or something. It's just a wall blown out, after all. And it seems like the Olympians focused their powers on the doors, which are completely intact."
"Oooh, I can see my babies again!" Keto was practically jumping with joy as soon as she left the building, probably the first time in a few years, at the very least. Olympian justice is either death or imprisonment for an immortal life. Ugh.
Percy's POV
It took me about an hour to convince the police it was a gas explosion -while quietly laughing at them. How could anyone mistake a hole in a wall that had no pipes anywhere near it as a gas explosion?
My watch read six forty-seven in New York time, which meant I had to get back to Camp Half-Blood. Good thing Shadow-traveling is instantaneous. After climbing up the ladder, I headed for the Dining Pavilion. Just like yesterday, I was the first one there, with others coming in as I ate. This time, Declan summoned breakfast for the Hunters, then just stood there. You're no fun, Declan. Smart, though. I wonder what the Olympians'll do now that the Proctor's back?
There were schedules in a few places around the Pavilion, something that either I hadn't noticed or wasn't there yesterday. Let's see. . . . Wrestling first, then a few others. . . . . Spears and Knives back-to-back . . . . . Swimming, not important . . . . . then Swordsmanship at the end again. That'll be fun.
Wrestling was in the training arena, as wrestling on the marble floor of the Amphitheater would hurt. There were only a dozen of us, however, and I was the only one not part of the Mars/Ares bunch. Luckily, the camp was providing the singlet, so I didn't have to buy or steal one. That singlet, however, wouldn't provide much modesty, probably the reason no Hunters of Artemis joined.
Clarisse -no way she'd miss this- and a Roman named Jeff were the first match, with Clarisse winning hands-down. Then were two Romans I didn't recognize, with a male one taking a place beside Clarisse. Next was a male Greek and a female Roman, with the Roman winning, then it was my turn. I was wearing blue, against a male Roman called Steven, who was wearing red.
A Greco-Roman wrestling match was divided into three "periods," two minutes each. Winning two periods means you win, but it also has points. However, winning two periods means you win, regardless of points. The referee -Chiron, of course- inspected both of our singlets for oil, grease, or any other infraction on the rules. Steven and I shook hands, then Chiron blew the whistle, signaling the start of the match.
The match started with Steven and I searching for a grip on each other, while desperately avoid each other's hands. Wrestling was something I learned particularly quickly in the Underworld. A metal-plated person on a stone floor is a great motivator for learning to wrestle, I guess. My right hand locked high up on Steven's left arm, Steven's left hand quickly grabbing onto my forearm as well. My left hand moved like lightning once my right had a grip, grabbing Steven's side before straightening up, the abrupt change in height knocking Steven a little off balance, but the guy was good a got his feet underneath him again.
The match degenerated into a contest of strength and weight, and while I was probably stronger than Steven, I wasn't as heavy, which meant I had to kind of tip him over. A sudden jerk brought me completely off balance, but my left hand moved to Steven's shoulder and brought him down with me
We struggled for a while on the floor before I managed to practically kneel on the Roman, forcing his shoulders into the sand, and Chiron declared me the victor of the period.
Less than a minute later, the next period started with my arms twisting around Steven's, then wrenching him off balance. I pressed the advantage, muscling him back and not allowing him to get more than one foot on the ground at a time. After about forty-five seconds of this, the inevitable happened with Steven getting pinned to the ground.
"Perseus is the victor and proceeds to the next round!" Chiron proclaimed. Head high, I joined Clarisse, the Roman -who I learned was Marcus-, and the Greek -who's name was Jonas. The next match was one by a Roman -in fact, there were only Romans left- by the name of Delozier, and the last one was Tess. Two females and four males.
"Tomorrow will see these six competitors narrowed down to three!" Chiron proclaimed, "Up next is Footrace!"
Good thing I didn't sign up for that. I doubt I could out-run a snail in this state. Deciding -rather obviously- to give the next few games a miss, I showered off and grabbed a few snacks to put some more fuel in the tank before Spear-Fighting and Knife-Fighting. Going back to the Nemesis Cabin, I set a stopwatch for two hours before taking a nap. But sleep, as it usually did, brought dreams.
Artemis flashed into the throne-room of Olympus, firing a silver arrow into the sky. All around her, the Olympians flashed in, including Hades and Hestia.
"Father, there is a new Proctor." Artemis said, "He claimed the Sword of Shadow, ambushed my Guardian and I."
Zeus turned pale and sank in his seat, "How long ago?"
"This morning. Do I have your approval to take my followers and hunt him down?" Artemis asked, almost as if expecting to be denied.
"No." Zeus replied, "Let the Greco-Roman games finish. I will order a quest between the Greeks, Romans, and Hunters to . . . dispose of the menace."
"Who, Father? He is very skilled, perhaps even matching Declan in skill."
"The most children of the Big Three, of course. Jason, representing Camp Jupiter. Nico, representing Camp Half-Blood. And Thalia, representing the Hunt." Zeus decided.
Then there was another flash of light as Declan appeared, holding Light, and I was sucked away by a strange ringing sound. . .
My hand flailed out blindly, hitting the snooze button before climbing out of bed and picking up the pila and pugio, sliding the latter into a sheath at my belt. Running my hand through my hair to get it back into it's natural state of unruliness, I finished the snack I had gotten earlier and headed to the Amphitheater. Clarisse was one of the Spear-Fighting competitors -no surprise there- along with Thalia -also no surprise- and about two dozen others.
"Clarisse and Marcus." Chiron said, prompting the two Ares campers stepped onto the Amphitheater's stage, "To disarmament or unconsciousness. Begin!"
It was a short match, with Clarisse lunging forward and hitting the wrestler solidly early on. Marcus recovered quickly, but not before Clarisse got a few more blows in. Seconds after that, Clarisse disarmed him.
"Clarisse is the victor!" Chiron proclaimed. They shook hands and stepped off the stage, clearing the way for a Roman and a Greek. The Roman won after a few minutes by knocking the Greek unconscious.
"Perseus and Thalia." Chiron called. When I glanced over, I could see his eyes lost some of their joy, obviously remembering the old Percy.
I took up a ready stance with the pila, while Thalia slowly twirled her own spear. Unlike the Swordsmanship contest, shields weren't allowed here, so Aegis wasn't in play. We circled each other, Thalia having no idea what I could do, while I had fought Thalia plenty of times. All the same, she'll have to make the first move.
And she did, lunging forward. I sidestepped to the left of her lunge, only to realize that was the same way she was heading. I braced myself while knocking her spear away, then rammed my shoulder into her. Well, she's a lot softer than a set of French armor. In the few seconds Thalia was disoriented, I slammed the shaft of my spear into her right wrist, but didn't manage to disarm her that easily.
Thalia's spear came around again, trying to slice me in the chest, but I jumped backwards. For the next few minutes, we fought back and forth. I was mostly on the defensive, but Thalia was sporting a few cuts where I had gotten through. I, however, was spotless, having fought cautiously the entire battle. Narrowing my eyes, I focused on her right wrist. It was hurting, I could see that much, as I had caught it with another blow only a few seconds ago.
My pila was knocked away by an arm before that arm was followed by Thalia's spear, making me dodge away again. I backed away, keeping some distance until Thalia left her guard a little too low. Lunging, I embedded the pila in her wrist, her hand spasming and releasing the spear, which I grabbed in my left hand and yanked away from the obviously in pain Hunter.
"Perseus is the victor!" announced Chiron, bringing me out of my battle mind-set. Carefully pulling my pila out of Thalia's wrist, I bowed to the quartet of Senators before shaking Thalia's hand graciously and stepping off the stage. Once I got back to the competitors' area, I turned to see two of the Senators looking at me, interested in the performances they had seen from me so far. Of course they'd be, I fought using entirely Roman equipment and techniques. And won at everything, so far.
I sat down, taking a breather and having a bag of Trail-Mix as a bit of a pick-me-up before the knives came out. Matches passed quickly, with far more Greeks than Romans being victors, until everyone had fought.
"Knife-Fighting begins in ten minutes, also held here!" Chiron called. Miranda stepped down from the bleachers as most of the the people were leaving. The wide, leave-shaped blade of the pugio felt like a really-short Riptide as I cleaned and sharpened it, making sure it was ready for action -action I was sure it was going to get this time.
Chiron started calling out matches, all people who hadn't had the opportunity to test their skill yesterday. Finally, he got to me, "Perseus versus Aria, first blood from the abdomen!"
I took to the stage, with the youngest Hunter joining me. I'll have to be careful. This one's fast, along with having a few years of Legion training.
She didn't disappoint, using a thinner pugio and a standard hunting knife with impressive skill. The ferocity of the attack kept me on the defensive for the first few minutes and gave me a few nicks on the arm before I recovered. Ducking a diagonal slash from the pugio, my own dagger caught her hunting knife, twisted, and yanked downward. The knife was wrested from the Hunter's hand, clattering to the floor. I kicked the weapon away before going on the offensive, pushing Aria back with relative ease, then my pugio slashed upwards at an angle, going across her stomach and creating a superficial wound. I held the pugio up to Chiron, the blood clearly visible.
"Perseus is victorious yet again." Chiron chuckled at the last bit. As I had for all my other matches, I bowed to the Senators before stepping from the stage and returning to the competitor's area. Miranda smiled at me, while I smirked back and twirled the pugio menacingly. Yeah, sure, like I'd win a match between the two of us.
Percy's POV
The three dozen competitors who entered the tournament were now whittled down to a dozen. Pheobe, Miranda, and I were proudly -and luckily- part of that dozen.
The next few hours passed, going from competition to competition. Swimming passed, but I was already one of the final six, so I didn't compete there. As the sun started to hand lower in the sky, Chiron led us all back to the Amphitheater, where Swordsmanship would be held again.
There were a clean three dozen of us, and half of them were going to be eliminated today, just like half of the original six dozen were beaten yesterday.
"The first match is the Guardian versus Jason!" Chiron announced, before two of the most powerful demigods stepped on stage.
The match that followed was . . . epic. Two experts with the blade, both veterans of wars and quests, one Greek, one Roman. They were a blur of bronze and gold in the center of the stage, striking and blocking more quickly than any pair had before them. But I wasn't caught up in the spectacle. No, I was analyzing both of their styles, how much they had changed in the time I was gone. Okay, Jason still prefers stabbing, that's good. Declan looks kinda slow, but with the way Jason's reacting, he's strong.
In a startling move, Declan punched Jason on the nose with his sword-hand, then slammed his shield into Jason's chest. Coupled with a kick to Jason's leg, the Roman toppled over and released his gladius.
"And the Guardian is triumphant!" Chiron proclaimed, ending the match. Declan offered Jason a hand, which the Roman gladly took then headed off the stage. At least I won't have to face Jason. He's probably the only one with enough skill and experience in Roman fighting to beat me.
The matches went on for a while, with Pheobe advancing as well. Then it was my turn.
"Perseus against Hank!" Chiron called. One of the Centurions of the Third Cohort followed me up to the stage, all muscle and sinew. Once we were ready, Chiron spoke again, "Begin!"
Hank charged forward with a stab, which I spun away from and responded with one of my own in true Roman style. Hank ducked it, this time his gladius swinging in from the side. I caught it on my crossguard, actually being forced to take a step back from the blow. Gods damn it, this guy's a battering ram! Not quick to turn, though.
I dodged around Hank's massive form, stabbing again. Hank jerked aside at the last moment, making my gladius barely touch him. When Hank stabbed again, I deflected it to the left with my shield. This gave me opportunity to ram my shoulder into his side, throwing him off balance.
I pressed the advantage, relentlessly switching between stabs and shoving with my heavy shield to force him backwards, until I finally toppled him and held the gladius to his throat.
"Perseus triumphs!"
I bowed to the Senators -of course- before helping Hank to his feet, "Thought I might've bitten off more than I could chew there."
Hank chuckled, "You fight like a Roman, Perseus. Better than me, looks like I couldn't chew that much."
I laughed, clapping him on the shoulder and heading back to the competitor's area. The Senators were still watching me, out of the corner of their eyes, as I sat cross-legged on the floor, appearing to watch the next match. Good, it's working. By the last day, one of them'll probably approach me. Hopefully it's the Consul.
Percy's POV
The rest of the day passed with ease, as Swordsmanship was the last activity. Now I was waiting for a certain empousa to separate from her pack. After all, I can't exactly come up to Artemis and ask, "Hey, mind if I borrow one of your Hunters so she can give me the info I need to de-throne Zeus? Thanks!"
I was outside of the Nemesis Cabin, sharpening my gladius while keeping a sly eye on Cabin Eight. Luckily, the empousa emerged sooner rather than later. Good, 'cause I would've bored myself to death before too long.
Trailing her, I watched as she neatly avoided the cleaning harpies and sat down on the beach, looking out over the sound. I slunk through the night in wolf form and joined her when I turned back into a human.
"Beautiful night, isn't it?" I asked, sitting down next to the Hunter.
Elysia looked shocked at my sudden appearance before responding nervously, "Yeah, I guess."
"Chill, I'm not gonna kill you." I smiled, "And the cleaning harpies don't go near the beach."
"What are you doing here?" Elysia asked, getting to the point.
"Followed you, Elysia. I know this is a bit personal, but how many times have you died?"
The she-demon stiffened before replying, "Twenty-three. I'm no stranger to Celestial Bronze or Imperial Gold."
"Elysia, I know you owe me a great deal. You owe me your current life, and with non-human creatures like you, that means a lot." I paused before speaking again, "I'm not what the Hunters would call a "good" person."
Elysia snorted, but there was an undercurrent of fear in her voice, "No male is."
I let out a harsh bark of laughter, "That isn't what I mean, and you know it. If Zeus knew what I was planning, he would have me executed. So you're gonna have to swear an oath on the Styx not to tell anyone of these events and this information until it becomes common knowledge. For what it's worth, I swear that those plans aren't to rule everyone with an iron fist, but to correct millenia of injustice at Zeus' hands."
Elysia's eyes lowered, but I knew she had no choice. "I swear on the Styx not to tell anyone of these events and this information until it becomes common knowledge."
"Good. Don't worry, I'm not forcing you to join me or anything like that. I just need to know how to get in touch with the leaders of the monsters. Queen Sess, Prometheus, the like."
The she-demon sighed, "I know what you ask of. You cannot contact them through an Iris-Message, but there are certain . . . other ways."
"Such as?"
"If you can obtain a scythe charm, those are still working." She shrugged, not meeting my eyes, "They are known to have intelligent minions in certain places, used to contact other groups of monsters if needed."
"Show me those places, and I won't bother you again." I said.
"You have maps?"
"Of a sort." Taking out my phone, I pulled up a mapping app. "Start talking."
"Doyle's Pub, New York."
"Got it." I saved the location before zooming out again.
"Double Barrel Tavern, New York."
"Check."
"Blue Moon Salon, California."
The list went on for a few more buildings, each of them being marked on the map before we were done.
"Thanks." I stood, "Might just kill those damn harpies, too."
The empousa didn't respond, instead looking out to the see with melancholy. Kill her? Nah, she might still be useful. And she looks so peaceful and yet troubled at the same time. Ugh, snap out of it Perseus. Plan's the only thing that matters.
I turned back into a wolf, slinking away before I heard voices behind me, "Though I'd find you out here. Still not sleeping?"
"No." Elysia replied, "The sea looks so peaceful, Declan."
He chuckled, "It does now. I remember during the Titan War, with Percy and his powers . . ."
"Isn't he evil?" Elysia asked. I had crept back to the top of the beach, looking down at them.
"He is now, Elysia, but by the gods, he was fighter." Declan replied, turning to look at Elysia, "One of the later battles of the war, it was the Athena Cabin, the Hunters, some dryads, nymphs, Satyrs, and Perseus against Hyperion and a horde of monsters. Hyperion was going south, through Central Park, and nothing could stop them. The Hermes Cabin -and I was a part of it back then- were posted at the bridge over the Harlem River, but Hyperion and his minions smashed right through us. We retreated, still fighting, but we couldn't even slow the Titan down. The Hermes Cabin scattered, leaving too many behind."
Declan sighed before continuing, "Their army split when it reached the Reservoir, half of it going around on either side, with Hyperion running over the water. Then I saw an ambush timed to perfection -Annabeth's work. Greek Fire tore up the paths around the Reservoir, the Satyrs playing their pipes to trip most of the monsters while Percy Jackson himself ran across the water towards Hyperion, to take the Titan out. I had been following the Titan in the trees, trying to warn anyone I could. Once I saw the ambush, I joined the Athena's to fight them back. Anyways, Hyperion was winning at first with this blinding flash of light, kinda like the ones I can summon with my Sword."
"Then?"
"Then Percy spun up the water into a hurricane around himself. It was amazing to watch, and Percy started beating Hyperion. One-on-one with a Titan, and Percy was kicking his arse. Percy was a fighter to the end, and with the Satyr's help, they got Hyperion encased in an maple."
"Wow. What about the Perseus-slash-Tristan here, is he anything like Percy?" Elysia asked eagerly, as if forgetting the conversation I had with her a minute ago.
Declan shrugged, "I don't know Tristan very well. He's certainly an excellent fighter, but he fights in exculsively Roman styles. No one else signed up for five competitions, either. The most I've seen, other than him, was three. And he hasn't lost yet."
"But why would he sign up for five? And why does he keep bowing to the Senators?"
"Maybe he wants to move to New Rome, be part of the Legion. He's certainly skilled enough, and signing up to five would show his dedication." Declan shook his head, "There's something about him that doesn't make sense. He's a werewolf who fled from the Pack only after the Hunt was almost destroyed in it's entirety. They didn't know he even existed when he showed up with Thalia, and Artemis proceeded to beat him up and interrogate him. Tristan, though, apparently didn't break and began threatening them -all while chained to chair. He -a male- somehow convinced Artemis to attack the Pack, and went to kill twenty his former comrades. Then he showed up here."
"I have any of the stories you do, Declan. Most of the time I'm in Cabin Eight."
"Oh, yeah. Anyways, he chose the name Perseus, and I don't know why. He could've been Tristan Dewolfe, but wasn't. From what I've heard, he quickly became friends with Miranda -if she has any friends- and began building a reputation that mirrored her own: Powerful, cunning, ruthless. But he has one advantage over Miranda: He's charismatic. Even though he practically owns the camp, he doesn't lord it over the rest of the campers. No one wants to cross him. Kinda like me." Declan smiled, "Then, you guys came here. He -for some reason- decided to help you, and used Miranda's reputation to keep the campers in line for the most part. Believe me, I've talked to some of my old Hecate buddies, and they said that without Perseus and Miranda, they would've killed a few of you -and gladly. Then, on the day I came back, discipline broke and they mobbed you guys. While Miranda single-handedly defeated over eighty campers, Perseus practically killed a god and fought me to a standstill -and you know how hard the latter is. He's either very careful about your health or wants something, and I'm starting to believe it's the former."
Time Skip: Two days (84 since Percy joined camp, last day of the Games)
Percy's POV
"The final six competitors in Swimming are Zoe, Sylvia, Beatris, Jackson, Griff, and Perseus!" Chiron announced, "For all the marbles . . . . . . Begin!"
I dived into the water, not missing a beat as my legs started kicking powerfully and my hands cut through the water. I could feel Zoe only a few inches behind me, and Sylvia only a little behind her. Jackson and Beatris were far behind, but Griff was about a foot behind Sylvia and going strong. I pressed harder, coaxing every bit of speed I could out of my muscles and gradually drawing a lead on the daughter of Pleione. A few inches became a foot, became two, became three as I lunged through the water like a rocket. Then I felt sand under my feet as I reached the shore, climbing to my feet and running the last little bit out of the water, Zoe only a second at most behind me. I bowed to the Senators as usual before turning back to the lake. Sylvia climbed out practically at the same time as Griff, and about fifteen seconds after that, Jackson and Beatris reached the end.
"Perseus is the victor, with Zoe in second place and Sylvia in third!"
I pumped my fist into the air in triumph, and congratulated Zoe before heading off to change. What's next . . . . Wrestling, after Discus. Better get into that singlet. After putting on some clothes over the wrestling outfit, I caught the last few minutes of the Discus, with some son of Ares taking first.
Clarisse and I took to the stage, not needing to be announced. After all, everyone else was eliminated yesterday.
"The two finalists are Clarisse and Perseus! Fight!"
We circled each other, too good to just lunge at the beginning. Clarisse made a tentative movement that I realized was a feint, then I lunged forward just as Clarisse was withdrawing her hand. I caught both of her upper arms in an iron grip while her hands locked around my forearms. For a few minutes, it was heaving back and forth, trying to get the other off balance while desperately trying to stay on one's own feet. Clarisse gave an almighty jerk, which knocked me off-kilter before I got my feet solidly on the ground. I pushed back with all my strength, which was marginally superior to Clarisse's, and to my surprise, she slid back a little. That only encouraged me, as now Clarisse was on the defensive in this period. After a strong push, I curved around her, jerking the daughter of Ares off her feet as I kept my grip, forcing her shoulders into the ground.
Chiron's whistle, which began a period, also ended this one, "The score is one-zero, in the favor of Perseus!"
Clarisse growled at me as we climbed to our feet again, and I smirked back. This time, after Chiron blew the whistle, Clarisse charged at me like a bull. Or should it be a boar? Whichever the animal, I stepped aside and grabbed Clarisse's arm as she passed, only to get jerked off my feet by the momentum. The grin on Clarisse's face told me that was her plan all along, but she was in the wrong position to exploit it. I was lying on my front, which meant the match wasn't ended. Clarisse was doing her level best to flip me while I was trying to get to my feet again. Realizing that venture was doomed to failure, I did a barrel-roll while holding Clarisse in her place above me. Now I was on my front on top of the daughter of Ares, in what could be considered a very lewd position should it have not been in Wrestling. Grunting, I started heaving Clarisse's arms, trying to flip her over. I jerked to the left as a feint, then threw my weight to the right as Clarisse still had my arms in a death grip. She spun on the ground, her shoulders pressed into the sandy floor.
"And Perseus is victorious, with Clarisse in second!" Climbing to my feet again, I bowed to the Senators before offering my hand to Clarisse. She spat in my general direction before stalking off. I shrugged good-naturdly before running back to Nemesis to change into a black t-shirt and black shorts, perfect attire for Knives. About an hour later, I headed to the Amphitheater, where Miranda was waiting in a white-button down shirt and and pants held up by a narrow black belt. Beautiful as always, Lytvyn.
Nodding to each other -one of the few times we could still acknowledge each other for a while- we ascended to the stage side by side.
"For the final match in the knife-work competition, we have Perseus against Miranda. Perhaps the son of Nemesis will add a third victory to his list?" Yeah, no.
We took our positions, the pugio in my hand and a long, thin stiletto blade in her own.
"Begin!"
I started by holding back, then realizing I didn't need to for Miranda to win this. I barely blocked her blade on the tip of my pugio before another slash came at me. I was forced onto the defensive by Miranda's amazing knife-work, retreating step by step around the Amphitheater. In fact, Miranda was the one holding back now, "Come on, Jackson, I taught you better than that."
Realizing what she was doing, I fought harder while Miranda slowed down just a little, putting her on the defensive -all for the audience, of course, and the patriarch sitting in it. A discrete hand gesture told me to go on the defensive again, backing up and barely blocking the withering hail of slashes the daughter of Nemesis rained upon me. Then, she decided to end it. A slash knocked my pugio away from the stiletto blade she carried, which carved across my chest.
"Miranda is the victor!" We shook hands warmly -acknowledging her clear supremacy with that weapon- and separated. I bowed to the Senators before heading back to the Nemesis Cabin and changing for Spear-Fighting.
Percy's POV
"The finalists in the Spear-Fighting competition- welcome Clarisse and Perseus!" Chiron gestured grandly to the two of us, who were walking up to the stage.
Clarisse looked like she was planning to get back at me for the wrestling match, but I wasn't too worried. An angry mind is a narrow mind, after all. Holding my pila across my body in a defensive position, I awaited the bull-like charge that I knew was coming.
As soon as the reet of the whistle rang across the Amphitheater, Clarisse rushed me, her spear out in a thrust. That, as I soon discovered, was a feint. I jumped away, barely avoiding the sweeping blow that followed the thrust, but came back with a vengeance. My pila whistled only a few inches above her head as the daughter of Ares ducked, then I swept the spear downward and caught her on the shoulder.
We battled back and forth, both of us earning cuts and bruises for our efforts before the shaft of my pila swept Clarisse off her feet. The daughter of Ares hit the ground with a thud, but rolled away before I could take advantage of her being there. While Clarisse rolled to her feet, I reversed my grip on the pila so that the blunt end was pointed at her, then lunged. The rounded end of the pila hit her in the stomach, forcing a grunt from the daughter of Ares. I spun the pila in my hand, one end whipping around to crunch on Clarisse's head, knocking her unconscious.
"Perseus is victorious!" Chiron announced while a pair of Apollo campers rushed to Clarisse. I bowed to the Senators before striding off the stage, now proudly the winner of three competitions -and hopefully a fourth come the Swordsmanship final.
I headed back to my room, quickly changing clothes and taking a swig of nectar to heal the wounds Clarisse scored. From there, I went back to the Amphitheater, only to find that the Discus final was next. It was already over when I arrived, and people were heading to the Archery Range for both the Archery and Javelin finals. The Hunters won both of those -no surprise- Thalia with the bow and Pheobe with the javelins.
A few competitions later, it was finally time for Swordsmanship. I retrieved the gladius and scrutum -the legionary shield- before heading back to the Amphitheater to face my competition: Declan Ross.
"The two finalists for the Swordsmanship competition are the Guardian of the Hunt and Perseus!" Chiron proclaimed. At this, the audience cheered. The Hunters were all cheering for Declan, but the Romans were cheering for me, while the Greeks were split about fifty-fifty. More importantly, the Consul raised a cup of wine to me in his own support, and his compatriots did the same.
"Until one is unable to continue . . . . . Begin!"
Both of us circled each other cautiously, our shields up and guards raised. I had almost endless patience to draw on, waiting for Declan to attack, but it looked like the son of Hecate had almost as much. Come on, Declan, attack! The five minute mark passed before either of us attacked. In fact, we both started getting bored. And that simply had to change.
We kept pacing around each other until I stopped with the lowering sun right behind me. It was in the perfect position to shine in Declan's eyes and give me the slight advantage I needed to go on the offensive. I opened up with a feinted thrust, which turned into a parry for Declan's slash while our shields slammed together, the round hypaspist's shield against my own rectangular scrutum. We strained against each other for a few seconds, neither of us wanting to break the lock and receive the blindingly fast attack that would follow. Then I caught a break as Declan blinked from the sun in his eyes, spinning away and stabbing the gladius as his undefended back. Declan was fast, though, bending his arm so that the thrust slid off his shield, the only damage done being a superficial cut on his side.
We fought viciously, both scoring scores of cuts on each other's arms, legs, and chest. Going for the head would see us disqualified, and neither of us would accept that as an ending to the hardest duel I had ever fought. Parrying a diagonal slash, I replied with a thrust that Declan threw himself away from, only for his shield to swing out at me, forcing me to jump backwards desperately. I could feel Declan getting marginally slower and weaker as we were thirty minutes into the fight, but I was feeling the same. Blood soaked into my clothes from cuts all over my body, and the same was happening to Declan; we were just too evenly-matched and stubborn for their to be a clear victor.
Forty-five minutes into the duel, things started to become lethargic, my blade seeming to move slowly and Declan's even slower. Blood and sweat coated the hilt of my gladius, but Light's hilt was spotless. Vampiric blade . . . hungry . . . Guardian . . . fury . . . control it . . . have to . . . end it . . . before . . . Dec . . . Light . . . . what? Light . . . hungry . . . blood . . . absorbs. . . fuels . . . rage. . .
Light was the only thing keeping him upright, and there were only two things keeping me upright: The Consul, who was watching us intently, and a certain dark blonde sitting in the front row of seats, next to the Freethinker patriarch.
We fought on bitterly, our arms and legs becoming lacerated with wounds and our chests faring only slightly better. I was losing blood fast, and Declan wasn't doing any better. I was wavering on my feet while Declan was swaying gently back and forth like a drunkard. But we fought onward, heedless to the fact that we were probably killing each other, slowly and steadily in front of a huge audience. Then Declan started laughing, high and maniacal. My own laughter, harsh and deranged, joined him. Declan . . . . Light. . . . Hunt . . . bullied. . . . insane. . . kill . . . Camp . . . punishment. . . .insane . . . Nereids. . . . insane. . . Light. . . . Declan . . .
My arms ached with pain as we reached the hour mark, both from wounds and from exhausted muscles. Declan's shield was lying on the floor a ways behind him after a random slash from me cut it's arm strap. I had taken mine off like a good little Roman to even the odds, and it was on the floor a ways away. Roman . . . . men . . . ha ha ha . . . . glen . . . den. . . . fen . . . wren . . . zen . . pen . . .
I was about to comment on how funny the rhymes were, in the middle of furious dueling, when I realized my mouth wouldn't obey. An unbidden laugh escaped from my lips, unhinged and shrill.
This time, Declan's laughter joined mine, just as insane as we fought, Light's blade absorbing a mixture of Declan's blood through the hilt and my own through the blade.
Our swords were locked together, and we weren't straining against each other as much as we were just leaning against each other, to tired to think but too stubborn to halt.
"Stop! This match is over."
What match? Catch . . . thatch . . . . hatch. . . . latch . . . .batch . . . scratch . . snatch . . . patc-
I collapsed, my last sight being Declan's prone body before black fell over my world.
A/N: So, you all know that Light can turn people insane, right? The way it works is the more blood/dust Light absorbs, the greater influence it has on the wielder. The insane-ness comes from the wielder's mind resisting Light and exhaustion. As for Perseus, my explanation for his delusions/craziness/lethargy is exhaustion and blood-loss (And Declan went weird as a combination of all the previous sentences). Oh, there was something I mentioned a few chapters ago with Shadow, but I didn't think I put it in a very good spotlight, and this is it: The Swords also strengthen the wielder in terms of endurance and staving off unconsciousness/death.
If any of you looked up singlet, I'm laughing at you right now. All the wrestlers wore a one of the more modest versions that you've probably seen.