Hey, another chapter. WDFD!

Honestly, I am glad that people are voicing their opinions about the story through reviews and private messages... but honestly, I really want all of you to think for a second. There are some of you who give me well-voiced and well-thought opinions on how I could improve (explain something more, this part is a little confusing, etc.). There are some of you who criticize things that are stupid (why did he do this? that was a stupid idea! he should be this, yadda yada yadda...). Then there are those of you who are ignorant and, I don't usually stoop to a low-level on the internet but I'll say this, those of you who are downright retarded. I mean, seriously. Some of you can't even tell if there is any deeper meaning or anything. And some of you can't tell if there isn't any deeper meaning. This is a different story. This Percy is not the same as he is in the PJO series. He isn't some kind person who cares for his friends more than he does the world. As some of you have pointed out, he has decades of experience in teaching combat and nearly ten years in war experience. He is smarter than that. He is also Athena's descendant. He cannot be too stupid and too ignorant. Sure, sometimes I make Percy feel like he is either too powerful or under-powered. Seriously? That is supposed to be that way because of the way others think. Not every author agrees with what he or she writes down. Sometimes, he or she has to think... "Okay, what would someone who is ambitious and dislikes Percy because he is a powerful threat feel about him?" Learn to read the context.

I'm sorry I bunched that up in one giant paragraph, but I felt like ranting, so I ranted. I admit, I am quite hot-tempered, but I really try to hold my own. I am not even bothered by the messages themselves... just the idiocy behind them! I don't get too many reviews, I don't have that many followers... in fact, I'm probably the only author who updates faster and quicker than a lot of other authors that has less than 500 favorites or followers. I'm that pathetic. But for the things I do get, I really take them into consideration. Think twice... or even three times before you comment on something.

Thankyou4readingmyrant,
SharkAttack719

Chapter 13

The Beginning of the End of Troy

Perseus didn't bother joining in on the funeral games for Patroclus. He felt it no use to attempt and mourn over the son of Menoetius.

Instead, he settled for either sitting at the shores of Troy, just watching the ocean in peace, or sitting in his tent trying to speak to Brisēís and Cassandra. Both knew that the end was arriving. Troy was doomed to fall sooner or later, and all three of them knew Agamemnon and Menelaus would not stop until they had their hands on Helen. If only the Trojans would allow her to flee.

A massive roar came from the plains just northeast of the Greek camp. It wasn't a roar of anger or a battle cry, though. It was a cheerful, exciting roar. Someone had probably bested in another in a competition.

Perseus wondered if the Trojans watched and listened to the Greek camps participating in the funeral games, knowing it would be ruthless and dishonorable if they disrupted it by launching an attack.

He stood up and slowly treaded into the water. He glanced once again at the two camps sitting side-by-side along the Scamander River before swimming over to Achilles' ship. The ships had rarely been touched, but the Greek armies had to make sure that they were safe so that they would have a safe passage home.

When he climbed on top of the Myrmidon general's ship, he immediately looked toward the bow. Unlike the Argo, it had no raised platform, and to see in front, the lookout would have to peer around where a figurehead could be placed. Perseus remembered the many days he spent peering over the front of the ship, hoping that they knew where they were headed. Sure, he could tell where they were in the oceans, but they felt disturbed. There were so many creatures he had not known about back then that lived in the depths of the Mediterranean that he just passed it off as him not being powerful enough.

At least he knew the truth now.

Another thing about all of these Greek warships was that the Argo had three levels: the upper deck, the sleeping deck, and the food deck. After living in Chiron's campsite and in a tent in Troy for so long, he realized that although the rooms were small on the Argo, they were pretty spacious for a ship.

Travelling to Troy was a mess. Sleeping men lay strewn across the upper deck. The lower level was only for stored goods like food, and until that first day of combat, weapons. (The ships only had two levels because Argus didn't design them; Argus was an amazing shipwright.)

He put a gentle hand on the mast of the ship and felt the ropes, along with the sail, seemingly swaying towards him... almost as if they were drawn to him.

Mizzenmast, he thought.

Immediately, even though he never said the word aloud, the ropes sprung into action. Whirling around the deck like maniacs, the sails were lifted in a matter of seconds by a magical force. Perseus admired the sails for a little while, enjoying as a light breeze blew past him.

"Irons!" he shouted.

As quickly as they had come up, the sails were let loose and were let down.

More cheering came from the funeral games of Patroclus.

Perseus sighed and hopped off the boat. He landed in the soft dunes of the sand and trekked back up to the tent. He instantly went off to bed as he had stayed up the previous night to help with the organization and collection of more dead bodies.

In his dreams, he found himself in Olympus' throne room. This time, it wasn't just the Olympians there, but minor gods of all sorts, plus Hades and Hestia. And the room was almost utter chaos. The gods and goddesses were bickering with one another like crazy. Even Zeus was on his feet and yelling. Ares had a spear and shield out as he argued with Athena and the weirdest part was that Eris was just rolling on the ground laughing while Nike and Tyche were beating her up.

He had done his fair bit of research.

But it only lasted for ten seconds. After those ten seconds were up, he saw his own father, Poseidon, and both of his uncles suddenly go rigid, as if they had just noticed something absurd about all of this.

"He's here?" sniffed the Lord of the Underworld with a tone of disdain.

The other gods and goddesses seemed to have noticed that the three had stopped, and all arguments and fighting slowly ceased. Everyone began looking at the Big Three, who in turn, were turning their heads in all directions like they were trying to find something.

"I can sense his presence," said the Lord of the Sky.

"Percy!" called Poseidon.

"I'm here!" Perseus shouted.

The sea god turned to him and they met eyes. "He is in a dream. He is not completely there." Looking down, Perseus realized he was transparent.

Poseidon didn't sound like the god he had known for years. He sounded different somehow. He sounded as if he were slowly changing in an evolution. But Perseus couldn't decipher exactly what was different. He just had a numb feeling against his skull...

"All of you leave!" Zeus barked. Turning to the dark-eyed god of the Underworld, he curled his lip. "You can stay."

Poseidon, ignoring his two brothers as they began a hushed bickering, walked up to where Perseus was and waved his hand over his head. Being fifteen-feet tall, his hand was huge compared to Perseus' body.

"There you are," he muttered.

As the minor gods filed out of the throne room, the Olympians made their way to their thrones. Now, other than Hades, it felt much more like the last and only time he'd been on Olympus in this throne room.

He glanced at Artemis first, checking if she was angry at him for any reason. There was no clear emotion written across her face, but she looked indifferent. Ares gave him the usual sneer, and Aphrodite sent an angry glare his way. Hephaestus looked to be tinkering with some armor and kept glancing in his direction as if the armor was for him. Dionysus didn't seem to care about anything. Athena gave him a discreet nod like she approved of his actions. Hera didn't even bother to look at him. Demeter wrinkled her nose in his direction. She probably didn't like war too much. Hermes stared up at the ceiling and tapped his foot impatiently. Zeus and Hades were both giving him stony looks. Both Hestia and Poseidon gave him looks of comfort, the latter because of who Perseus was and the former because she was the best and purest of them all.

The worst look was from Apollo, whose eyes screamed bloody murder. Perseus saw him absentmindedly touch his back. His eyes seemed to be pits of fire like the sun.

There was a painful flash in Perseus' head and he fell to the ground. His dream-self acted just as he would have in real life. He saw as a giant statue of what looked to be Helios fall to the ground... no, fall into water and disappear into the sea-green ocean. His mind flashed again and he saw glimpses of what seemed to be the future: a marvelous marble-columned building in ruins, a giant army of soldiers holding purple banners and wearing red colors, an eagle carved into stone, and a city that wasn't Troy lit up and burning down to the ground.

His vision flashed again and he realized Apollo seemed to be sending him a message.

"Why are you here?" demanded Zeus.

Perseus got up slowly and rubbed his forehead while grimacing. "I—I don't know. I just fell asleep and... here I am."

Zeus opened his mouth once again, but Perseus' mind twisted again and he collapsed to the marble floor. He clutched his head in pain and writhed like a fish out of water. His brain was on fire, his head searing with agonizing torment.

"Stop!" a distant voice shouted. "STOP!"

In a rush, feeling came back to his brain and he felt himself breathing raggedly on the floor. He didn't dare to look straight at the Olympians as screaming ensued. He could almost feel the rage burning his body up, their godly forms destroying him. Instead, he settled for glancing at them out of the corner of his eye.

"How dare you attack him?" growled Poseidon.

"I have every right to!" Apollo shouted. "What he did to me on the battlefield... stabbed me from behind..."

"And that is war," remarked Athena. "If you cannot handle being attacked by a demigod, then you are a coward. You put yourself at risk by killing Patroclus when you clearly knew that Perseus was not far behind. That is your own mistake."

"You don't understand anything, Minerva!" roared Apollo. He flickered and for a second, Perseus saw, instead of a bright and happy young man without a beard, an older man with stubble and a sterner face.

Athena twitched before giving him a cold, harsh glare. "Do not call me that, you fool!"

"I call you what I want." The god of archery sent her a sneer that he had never seen him give anyone ever.

"Would you all shut up?!" screamed Zeus.

It wasn't long before the throne room delved back into madness and fighting. Perseus watched helplessly as his father began fighting with Hades and Zeus, and as Athena and Apollo began getting into each other's faces.

Eons seemingly passed before the room completely froze. They were stuck, as if trapped in ice, yet there was no frost anywhere. It was like a frozen drawing. None of the gods or goddesses moved at all... but out of thin air, a lady approached.

She looked exactly like the oracular girl at Delphi.

"Troy has changed them much," she said in the exact same voice he remembered from the temple.

"Wait, you're the girl from—"

"Not quite, though I must say I do look like her, don't I?"

"Well... yeah."

The girl chuckled. "In a way, I am an oracle. I know the future and what it holds. I see so much pain, death and conflict that I just learn to accept it. Normally, I don't talk to your kind... in fact, the last known being who last spoke to me was, in fact, Nyx. That was thousands of years ago."

"Thousands of years ago?" asked an astonished Perseus.

"I am old, aren't I? But I usually fade into the background and see how you little things play along with your lives. The only thing is that there is now a disturbance. There is a fluctuation. Different beliefs of the same god causes turmoil and changes. To give you an idea of what I mean, your kind used to view Gaea as a wonderful, immortal goddess who is peaceful and wondrous. Yet now, after the Gigantomachy and after the gods' emergence, she is viewed as a tyrant, a goddess who will smile when she kills anyone, a goddess who will do anything for absolute power. What is she now? She is the tyrant. If something is ever said about you that you can hear over and over and over, you will eventually believe it. It is you who will help the enemy... but it is also you who will end conflict. You will be the one to bring peace to the two sides."

He put his arms up. "Hold on. Can we go back to the part about the disturbance and fluctuation? About that... does it have anything to do with 'Venus,' 'Mavros,' 'Minerva,' 'Diana,' and all of those other things?"

"You cannot be hesitant to kill when the time comes," the girl said, ignoring his question. "You must be ruthless. You must be... barbaric. I warn you that should you not follow your pupil's advice, your time will end short and the world will fall into utter chaos and destruction. Achilles is angry and he seeks vengeance for Patroclus' death. You must accept the choices. Fate is a pre-planned game. Though most mortals, demigod or regular, cannot see two steps ahead, the deities will always know what has to happen. There are some things that you cannot control, Perseus. What a wonderful ending for you it will be: happy, heroic, and knowing you have done your duty."

"Wait! Why are you telling me all of this? Who are you? Are you trying to trick me? What do you mean that there are some things that I cannot control? I already know that! And what is with that 'wonderful ending?'"

But the girl just waved and faded back into the background. The image of the gods also dissipated until he found himself woken up by the sound of clanking armor.

Perseus' eyes snapped open and he bolted upright in his bed.

Slipping out quietly, he put on some armor over his tunic and grabbed his bow and quiver. He turned back to Cassandra to make sure she was still asleep before opening the curtain where Achilles stood. The son of Thetis had just sheathed his sword in his scabbard when he saw his master appear from his part of the tent. He gave him a bitter smile.

"Come to see me kill Hector, have you?" he said in a sardonic tone.

Perseus noted that Achilles was wearing very familiar armor. It was the armor that Hephaestus was playing with in his dream. Was it possible that the god of the forge had created that armor specifically for Achilles? It looked brand new, the metal shining bronze.

You must accept the choices, Perseus thought. You cannot think that you know what is best for everybody.

Letting out a sigh, he said, "I come to watch a Trojan hero die. I also come to support my friend in battle." Pausing for a little, he recollected his thoughts. "You know I care for Patroclus, too. He wasn't as close to me as you are, but I'm sorry. The same goes for Eudoros. I just hope I don't live long enough to experience the death of your great-grandson."

Achilles looked surprised. "I have a son?"

"I can't believe you don't even remember," he said shaking his head. "His name is Neoptolemus. His mother is that princess... Deidamia. He is a ruthless soldier under the command of Agamemnon. Cruel and savage that one is... but he knows little about you other than the fact that you are his father."

The son of Thetis' eyes swirled like a storm. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. "I'll deal with Neoptolemus later. Right now, we have a job to do."

"After you, commander," Perseus said, gesturing towards the tent entrance.

Achilles stepped out of the tent and immediately went for his chariot. Perseus told him that he would catch up after he told Phoenix to guard over the camp. When searching for the third... rather, now that Eudoros was gone, second-in-command, he had a flashback to when he had learned about Neoptolemus.

It was a normal day on the coast of the Troad region: sunny and hot. The east tended to be like that. A nice, cool breeze blew in, though, eradicating all of the effects of the heat.

Perseus was just taking a walk along the beach when he overheard a couple of Greek warriors speaking about some new recruit.

"They say he cut a path of destruction through Thrace just to get here," said one. "It's entirely possible that he's Achilles' son. Who else would be that ruthless?"

At the time, Perseus wanted to jump in a beat up whoever had said that, even though he and Achilles had fought in a little argument. But he was glad he didn't because that was the only way he found more about the young man.

"He's only, what, fourteen... fifteen?" remarked another. "It's a little hard to believe that he is savage and cruel. I think that Agamemnon said something about Achilles having bore him at fourteen or fifteen. He's about twenty-nine now, so that would mean the kid is about fourteen or fifteen."

"Have you seen the child?" said the first. "He's rude and hot-tempered. I guess you could blame it on the mother. Wasn't she like a princess or something?"

"That's what I heard."

"Crazy that—shh! He's coming. Pretend to talk about the war."

Perseus peered around the corner and saw a very young man who was about fifteen years of age come into appearance. It was definitely Achilles' son; the physical appearance was quite the same as him.

"You two know anything about Achilles?" the boy demanded rudely.

"No. Not much."

"Who knows much about him?"

"I'd say the person who knows him best would be Perseus. Wouldn't want to talk to him, though. You get on his bad side, he'll put you in your place. Death would be better than what they say he does to you."

At that point, Perseus decided to creep away, making sure he was undetected. Neoptolemus approached him later while he was sitting in his spot in the sand at the beach. They were quite a ways away from the Greek camp, away from the main groups of people.

He already knew that the son of Achilles was going to be rude and ignorant. The only he wondered was if that had come from his father or his mother. In either case, Neoptolemus ended up being dragged back to the Greek camp by Odysseus with a two broken arms, a shattered right knee, and eight toes. That's how angry Perseus had gotten with him.

Shaking himself back to the present, he wondered how Achilles would take the news. But on one hand, Neoptolemus had acted like Achilles. He was very protective of those whom he cared about, which was a few soldiers from wherever he was from, but had very little patience.

He remembered all those years ago when Thetis had sent Achilles to the kingdom of Deidamia's father. At the young age of fourteen, Achilles and Deidamia had an affair. Perseus wasn't too surprised considering Achilles had been trained very much when he was little and looked older than he actually was.

At the age of fourteen, Perseus had been sitting with Zoë in a building in Argos having recently killed Heracles. There was no sexual activity at all back then. He couldn't remember exactly but he figured that he and Zoë may have shared a bed at that time. It was just a guess, though. He couldn't remember.

He figured it was because of Zoë's past and his ultimate goal of her becoming a Hunter that really stopped that. He hadn't seen too many men or boys that would resist from attempting rape. He also hadn't seen too many girls who were willing to join the Hunters. There had to be thousands of girls in the world, yet only half a dozen had joined... not including Zoë.

He shook the thoughts out of his head. Stop thinking irrationally. You are about to watch the death of a Trojan hero, not about to re-live your love life.

Perseus quickly got Phoenix to wake up and guard around the camp. He also ordered a dozen Myrmidons to head on a boat to sail to Kolonai to bring all Myrmidon troops from the outposts of the south, and ordered another dozen Myrmidons to head to Dardanus to round up the Myrmidons in the north.

Then, he quickly went to find Tachys' son Keravnos. He wasn't sure why he called himself thunderbolt other than the fact that he stormed like a thunderbolt. Tachys, however, was now too old to be able to be a good battle horse, so the horses had been bred. Perseus was in charge of that task. It wasn't exactly pleasant to watch horses mate.

He wondered if that was what it was like when his father raped Demeter. He also wondered where Arion went, the production of the rape.

"Hey, Keravnos," Perseus greeted as he found the horse. "We're going on a little ride."

Where to, Lord Percy? he asked.

"We're going to watch a Trojan hero die."

Sounds like fun, said the horse sarcastically. As long as I don't get killed.

"I assure you that you won't."

That promise better be true.

Perseus leaped onto the horse's back and tapped his shoulders. With a loud neigh, Keravnos took off toward the Trojan walls where Achilles had undoubtedly arrived. He saw the people that had gathered around to watch this duel.

All across the plains, standing in the bushes and near the outskirts where trees were, were Greek soldiers who had heard of Achilles' attempt to kill Hector. This was a fight that all of them wanted to see.

He could see that the Trojan royal family was on top of the walls surrounded by at least one hundred archers. He could see Helenus, Deiphobus, Paris, Helen, Priam, Hecuba, Laodice and Andromache.

Andromache looked horrible as if she had been dragged away roughly from her husband when she tried to stop him. Helen was holding her tightly, trying to comfort her. For a moment, Perseus locked eyes with the former Queen of Sparta. If he wasn't mistaken, she paled a slight degree.

He caught the eye of Paris, who, like before, held his gaze firmly. Priam was next, the old man sending a pleading look his way. Unfortunately, Perseus had to shake his head to deny the offer. Helenus, Deiphobus, Hecuba and Laodice did not look at him.

As he approached Achilles, the gates of Troy shuddered and began opening, Hector coming out on foot. He held one javelin and had a sword.

Achilles leaped out of his chariot and nodded at Perseus, acknowledging he was there.

"Stay," Perseus told the horses leading Achilles' chariot. He turned to his student. "Remember. Hector is a good warrior. If you plan to parade his head through the charred streets of Troy, end his life quickly and swiftly. Patroclus died instantly with one stroke. Hector deserves the same."

He nodded and bowed to Perseus. "Of course, Percy."

The son of Poseidon turned around to see the main Greek kings watching from afar, none of them on horses. They all came down to a soldier's level, standing on the ground as the duel began. Agamemnon was there, watching in amazement as Greece's best warrior prepared to fight Troy's best warrior. Menelaus was at his side looking at the Trojans solemnly. Odysseus, Diomedes and Greater Ajax stood in a clump around them. They looked like they had just been inside of a forge, covered with soot, dirt and dried blood. (You know, from chopping off fingers.)

Among them, he saw other men who were there to watch: Lesser Ajax, Podarces, Menestheus...

Hector and Achilles met right in front of Troy's gates. The Trojan Prince looked almost nervous. He knew he was coming up on his term of mortality. There was nothing that could stop Achilles' rage. And he knew that very well. Perseus could tell that Hector wished that Achilles would give his body back to his family.

According to Achilles' words, that was not going to happen.

The King of Aegina wasn't facing Perseus, so it was hard to tell the expression on his face. Judging from the looks of the Trojan royal family and the archers, it must have been terrifying.

"You killed my cousin, Patroclus," Achilles started.

"He was wearing your armor," countered Hector.

"It does not matter," growled Achilles. "Your time has come short, Prince of Troy. You will not escape unharmed from the killing of my cousin. You will pay for what you have done to me, to Percy. You are an honorable and admirable fighter, but I will not go easy on you."

Hector clenched his teeth but said nothing. The Prince of Troy tensed his legs and pulled out his shield and javelin. As he did so, Achilles followed suit. Holding two spears, Achilles hurled one at the Prince of Troy before charging in with his second spear.

Hector quickly adjusted, dodging the spear and pulling out his sword.

Having the longer weapon, Achilles nearly decapitated Hector on his first swing, but missed the kill by a fingernail. There was a thin cut along Hector's chin, but there was nothing too serious. The Trojan Prince immediately made a counter strike, jabbing at him with his sword as he raised his shield to protect himself from Achilles' spear.

It was a quick move and it cut at Achilles' armor. Recovering quickly, Achilles tossed his spear to the side and pulled out his sword, making the advantage tip to a balance. Strike after strike they clashed swords and shields, smashing against one another and fighting like demons.

Achilles whirled around and slashed at Hector's sword arm. There was a significant cut left there and Hector was forced to drop his sword. Now forced to play defense, Hector was running out of options.

Perseus looked up at Andromache and Helen, the former crying now. He turned back to the fight guiltily but tried pushing his pity to the back of his throat.

Achilles relentlessly battered Hector until the latter's shield looked like it had been stampeded by a horde of bulls. But he had a surprising trick up his sleeve. There was a reason Hector was Troy's greatest warrior.

As Achilles landed a devastating blow, Hector fell backwards, and for a split-second, Perseus thought he was done for. The Prince of Troy, however, rolled over, stood back up and acted as a bull himself. He charged at Achilles, who was stunned that he had gotten back up, and knocked him to the ground. Hector ran over to where his sword laid in the ground and picked it back up.

Paris was standing up now. Anyone around the area could tell he was muttering for his brother to survive. A little hope seemed to be injected into the Trojan spirit. Even Priam rose, his eyes wide and hopeful.

Hector seemed to regain newfound strength and he was the one pushing Achilles back this time. Blow after blow, Achilles was pressed further away from the Trojan walls. They were getting close enough to Perseus that if he were to join the fight, he was two leaps away from killing Hector.

That was when Hector made the worst mistake he could have ever made.

He let Achilles charge at him. He sidestepped and as Achilles halted to turn around, he drove his sword into the invulnerable demigod's back. As expected to no one but the Greeks, Hector's sword shattered into pieces. Even Perseus had to move away to avoid a stray piece of metal from piercing his heart.

The point of the blade had turned on its owner though. Hector had been pierced through the stomach, though wasn't dead yet. To humiliate him in the worst way possible, Achilles dragged him over to where he had dropped his spear. He made sure the entire world was watching before he took his spear and drove it into Hector's windpipe.

A cry of grief came from atop the walls. Andromache looked heartbroken and terrified. She screamed Hector's name as Helen embraced her tightly. Helen looked a little teary herself. Paris and Priam both looked completely stunned, and Helenus, Deiphobus and Laodice watched in shock as their brother was killed mercilessly in front of them. Hecuba had already fled in a trail of tears. The archers all around them didn't move, but Perseus could tell their morale had dropped significantly.

Perseus hopped of Keravnos and ran over to Hector's dying body.

He heard him utter one last sentence: "My brother, Paris, who started this war, will kill you, Achilles, right on this spot because you refuse to give my body to my family."

The son of Poseidon bent down over the Trojan Prince, whose mouth formed an inaudible word: Perseus.

"Relax," the son of Poseidon said. "You are a Trojan hero. Your afterlife is guaranteed to be peaceful. You will never have to kill or see anyone get killed in front of your eyes ever again."

Stiffly, Hector nodded before his body no longer moved and his eyes stared open without understanding or comprehension. The great Prince of Troy, heir to the Trojan throne, was dead.

"Achilles," Perseus said. "Choose wisely."

He stood up and waited for Achilles to make his decision. And the son of Thetis made his decision quite clear. Nemesis still had that advantage over him. He grabbed Hector's body and dragged it over to his chariot. He tied the Prince of Troy by his legs and got onto the chariot. With a flick of the reins, they turned around and made their way to the Myrmidon camp, Hector's body being dragged along the ground in an undignified manner.

Keravnos stayed where he was, watching as his companions led a chariot that had a human body tied to it. Perseus turned one last time to the Trojan royal family, who were all staring at Achilles in further horror. He opened his mouth to say something before he thought better of it and jogged over to his horse.

He hopped onto it and rode away without a single word to say his condolences.

Hey everyone,

Hope you enjoy this chapter. Remember to tell me if you like it or not.

I apologize for any grammatical errors in the chapter above and if any historical facts are actually wrong. I have spent my time looking through different websites, and even a couple of books, but the story that will continue may have incorrect historical info. Still, I believe it just adds to the effect.

Thanks a bunch,
SharkAttack719