Author's Note:
For those who've already read the first posting of this work, I've since gone through and worked out a few kinks that messed with the overall continuity. I appreciate all reviews. Genuinely, it's been an extremely rewarding experience to write this. After discussing with a friend, I found it best to add an additional chapter in the form of a prologue. With this, the stage is set. The fates conspire, the Norns converse.
I have the distinct pleasure on taking you through this journey of the life after, for a hero who as lost much. This story of death, pains and sorrows and the paths one takes to heal from the personal hells they've found themselves in. Regardless of happenstance, the fates still spin their yarns. This theme, is something that has been a common point within my life of late, this is but a juxtapose for me to unwind.
I wish you all kind regards in your trials, and with that. On with the show!
Timestamp: 5 years after the events of the battle of Gaia
Location: Apollo's Temple
In the hallowed music hall of Apollo's temple, the somber notes of the lyre reverberated through the air like a melancholic sigh. The god of the sun and music sat upon an ornate golden throne, his fingers gracefully dancing across the strings of his instrument. Each note he plucked resonated with the weight of profound grief and unresolved conflict that had plagued him for the past five years.
The Battle of Gaia had been a devastating event for both mortals and immortals alike. The losses of his fellow Olympians, the valiant demigods, and innocent lives weighed heavily on Apollo's heart. The betrayal of his own grandson, Octavian, had deepened the wounds, adding a layer of personal turmoil to the already burdened deity.
As the mournful rendition of "Achilles Last Stand" reached its crescendo, Apollo's eyes began to shimmer with a golden hue, reflecting the celestial power within him. His heart was heavy with emotion, torn between the pain of loss and the rage of betrayal. He had always been known for his youthful and carefree demeanor, but this day was different—his soul was restless, seeking answers, closure, and perhaps, redemption.
At the precipice of the song, when the last notes were about to fade away, a profound stillness washed over the hall. The music ceased, leaving only the echoes of its lingering melody, as if the universe itself held its breath in anticipation. Apollo's voice, usually smooth and melodious, now carried an ancient and weighty timbre, resonating with the echoes of prophecy.
" Cast unto the Earth, she sleeps.
Stirrings of the realm deep flourish.
Battered and bruised is thee,
Darkness rises as the desolate remains.
Hope lies within the shackles broken,
the price of the old ways is paid.
The Tides, the Moon,
For salvation, or Damnation
The balance is preserved. "
Echoing throughout the chambers of his temple. The divine energies echoed throughout all of Olympus. Apollo's eyes flickered with an inner fire as he tried to grasp the levity of the words of the Morai. The words of the yarn spinners could shape the very fabric of the world. The future was a grand tapestry of countless possibilities that the Moirai meticulously guided. Understanding that these threads were now interwoven with his own choices and actions. He exhaled. A breath he didn't even know he had, the ramifications of another great prophecy were dire. A council must be called, and the words must be deliberated, he could feel the trappings of fate as the echo of the prophecy reverberated against his temple walls.
Acting almost on instinct he ran for the Council room. In a blur of golden light and godly speed, Apollo dashed through the streets of Olympus. As he ran, his divine aura radiated with intensity, causing the denizens of the celestial city to pause and gaze in awe at their sun god's uncommon display of urgency. Vendors and passersby quickly made way for him, as if the very heavens themselves had parted to allow him passage.
With each stride, his heart pounded with a mixture of determination and uncertainty. The weight of the prophecy pressed upon his immortal shoulders, reminding him that the fate of mortals, demigods, and gods alike hung in the balance. The loss of life and the betrayal of his own grandson, Octavian, had shaken him to his core, but now he had been given a glimpse of the path that lay ahead.
As he reached the grand doors of the Council room, he slowed his pace, taking a moment to steady his breath and collect his thoughts. He knew that the other Olympians needed to be informed of the prophecy, for the fate of the world should not rest solely on his shoulders. Stepping inside, his presence filled the chamber with a sense of gravitas.
His father seemed to be the only one there on his ornate throne–turned his attention towards Apollo. Sensing the magnitude of his arrival. Zeus, the king of the gods leaned forward, his eyes fixed on his son.
"Apollo," Zeus boomed, " What brings you here with such urgency?"
Without hesitation, Apollo recounted the words of the prophecy, the echoes of the Moirai' wisdom resounded through the throne room. As he spoke, listening ever intently, Zeus' expression grew more serious with each passing phrase.
"Your urgency does you credit my son. A full council must be called, these are grave tidings indeed." Zeus declared. " We must gather the wisdom and strength of all the Olympians to deliberate this matter."
As his words lingered in the air, he raised his master bolt, channeling his divinity into his godly thunderous boom echoed through Olympus, its powerful resonance reaching every corner of the divine realm. The skies above the celestial city crackled with Zeus' divine lightning, a sign to all the gods and goddesses that their king had summoned them for a council of utmost importance.
One by one, the Olympians began to appear in the Council room, their majestic forms materializing in flashes of light and divine energy. Athena, Hera, Poseidon, Demeter, Hermes, Aphrodite, Ares, and the rest of the Twelve Olympians took their seats with the exception of one–the goddess of the Hunt. Since the loss of her hunters, she had been inconsolable, fading into the background of Olympus, hiding away in a fit of depression. Out of all of the gods she had lost the most in the eve of the final battle against Gaia. Her hunt was desolated, leaving Thalia and four others, she commanded them to Camp Half-Blood while she grieved and did her duties guiding the moon.
To those that were there, their expressions are a mix of curiosity and concern. As the last of them arrived, Artemis' seat still remained vacant. The grand doors of the Council room closed, sealing the chamber with an air of solemnity. Zeus, noticing her absence, knowing her grief decided to press onward, still holding the master bolt, addressed the assembly." My fellow gods and goddesses, we gather here today because Apollo received a prophecy of grave significance. The Moirai have spoken. With that, the threads of fate have woven this matter into our hands to deliberate."
Apollo stepped forward, his eyes still reflecting the shimmering golden hue. "I stand before you to share the prophecy I have received," he began, his voice resonating with both authority and vulnerability. He recited the words of the prophecy, each syllable carrying the weight of the future that awaited them.
As the echoes of the prophecy filled the room, the gods and goddesses listened intently, their expressions growing more serious with every passing moment. The mention of darkness, hope, and the balance of power evoked a sense of urgency and responsibility among them all.
As the words of the prophecy hung in the air, Ares, the god of war, could not help but speak up. His booming voice reverberated through the Council room as he proclaimed, "Another war is coming! I can feel the bloodshed and the clash of weapons!"
Athena, the goddess of wisdom and strategic warfare, immediately raised her hand to request caution. "Let us not be hasty in interpreting the prophecy. We must deliberate carefully and consider all possibilities," she advised, her tone calm and measured. "Though Ares might be correct in his concern, we must not jump to conclusions without understanding the entire scope of the prophecy."
Ares scowled but nodded in acknowledgment, realizing that Athena's counsel was prudent.
Hades, the lord of the Underworld, spoke next, his voice cool and composed, "The realms of the dead are not responsible for this unrest. I assure you, no ill will come from my domain."
Apollo, with a flicker of insight, added, "Perhaps the 'shackles broken' refers to the ancient laws preventing us from communicating with our children, the demigods."
All eyes turned to Apollo, considering his words. It was true that ancient laws restricted the gods from directly interfering with the lives of their mortal children, the demigods. Over the centuries, this limitation had caused pain and suffering, especially during times of great peril.
Hera, the queen of the gods, nodded thoughtfully, "If that is the case, then the price paid for the 'old ways' could mean that we must abandon these archaic laws in order to bring hope and salvation."
Demeter, the goddess of the harvest, added her insight, "The 'stirrings of the realm deep flourish' may suggest an uprising of the forces of nature. We must be prepared for any upheaval in the mortal world."
Poseidon, the god of the sea, boomed in agreement, "I shall watch over the tides and the waters, ensuring balance and preserving the safety of the mortal realms."
As the gods continued to deliberate and analyze the various elements of the prophecy, Apollo felt a sense of unity and shared purpose among them. The room filled with the sounds of wisdom and reasoned discussion as they sought to understand the true meaning of the prophecy.
Athena's advice proved invaluable as the Olympians carefully examined each aspect of the prophecy, leaving no stone unturned. They recognized that the future was a tapestry woven with countless threads of possibility, and each god and goddess had a role to play in shaping the fate of the mortal and immortal realms.
After hours of deliberation, Zeus called the session to a hold. Calling the rest of the Olympians to continue to decipher the prophecy. Since the last days of the war, there hadn't been such a sense of urgency within the halls.
The tapestry was being woven once again, the Moirai in their secluded haven spun their yarns. Knowing the pains wrought by the ancient laws, knowing the challenges the Olympians would face. Using Apollo as a mouthpiece was their only available action. Only time would tell of what the future truly held.
—-
Location: New York City
Timestamp: five hours since the prophecy was spoken
In the dimly lit and smoky atmosphere of the dive bar, Apollo sat on a worn barstool, a glass of amber liquid before him. He swirled the drink, watching as the ice clinked against the sides of the glass, a reflection of the swirling thoughts in his mind.
The weight of the prophecy still hung heavily on his shoulders, and he desperately sought solace in the chaos of the mortal world. He was tired of the matters of Olympus, weary from the eternal struggles and responsibilities of a god. For a moment, he longed to be free of it all, to feel mortal, to be able to escape from the weight of divinity.
His mind drifted to the betrayal of his own grandson, Octavian, the pain of loss still fresh in his heart. Octavian had turned against the Olympians in the final battle of Gaia, and the consequences had been devastating. The young demigod's actions had caused the death of Annabeth, Percy's beloved, and sent Percy himself into seclusion.
Percy, the son of Poseidon and one of Apollo's own demigod siblings, had vanished from the radar, leaving no trace behind. His absence left an ache in Apollo's heart, a lingering worry for the young hero who had faced so much and had seemingly disappeared from the world he had saved.
The words of the prophecy continued to echo in his mind, and he couldn't help but think of the line, "The Tides, the Moon." The mention of the tides brought to mind Artemis, his twin sister and goddess of the hunt. He remembered the pain in her eyes after losing her loyal Huntress, Zoe Nightshade, in a previous quest.
Suddenly, a connection started to form in Apollo's mind. The pieces of the puzzle began to fit together like a celestial constellation. Artemis' loss, Percy's disappearance, and the prophecy's mention of the tides and the moon—all seemed to intertwine.
The realization hit him like a thunderbolt. Artemis, the goddess of the moon and the tides, was deeply affected by the losses she had endured. Percy, whose father was Poseidon, the god of the sea and tides, had withdrawn from the world after the death of Annabeth, a daughter of Athena, and his love.
Could it be that the prophecy was intricately tied to Percy's fate and Artemis' pain? Was the balance between salvation and damnation, as mentioned in the prophecy, connected to them?
His thoughts raced like a speeding chariot, and he downed his drink in one swift motion, feeling the burn of the alcohol as it touched his divine lips. He needed clarity, needed to find answers–his train of thought was disrupted as he felt another godly presence enter the bar.
As Poseidon settled onto the barstool beside him, Apollo glanced at his uncle with surprise. He had not expected to encounter another god in this dive bar, especially not Poseidon, the god of the sea, wearing an attire that would make him blend in as a Florida fisherman. Despite the casual appearance, Poseidon's divine aura was unmistakable.
"Poseidon, what brings you here?" Apollo asked, setting aside his own troubled thoughts for a moment.
The sea god sighed, his eyes carrying a mix of weariness and concern. "The prophecy, Nephew. I've been doing some thinking on my own. It's about Percy, isn't it?"
Apollo's eyes widened, realizing that he was not the only one who had connected the dots. "You've made the same connection?"
Poseidon nodded, taking a sip from the drink the bartender had set before him. "Ever since Percy vanished after the battle, I've been restless. I know he's resilient, but the silence has been unnerving."
"He's your son, and Annabeth... well, she meant a lot to both of you," Apollo replied, his voice tinged with empathy.
Poseidon's eyes softened, "Yes, with time that spawn of Athena grew on me, and Percy... he's more than just my son. He's my legacy, and he has a role to play in the balance of the world."
Apollo leaned in, lowering his voice to a hushed tone, "The mention of the tides and the moon in the prophecy—Artemis' domain—is what brought my attention to Percy as well. But there's more to it. I believe the 'salvation or damnation' could mean that Percy might hold the key to preventing a great catastrophe or causing it."
Poseidon's expression grew more solemn, "He's faced many trials before, but this one might be greater than any he's encountered. The fate of both the mortal world and Olympus could rest on his actions."
The two gods fell into a contemplative silence, their divine minds spinning with the possibilities. In the midst of the mortal world, they could speak freely without the trappings of Olympus, where every action and word had consequences.
"Despite my concern, I can't simply intervene," Poseidon said with a hint of frustration. "We're bound by ancient laws, and we must tread carefully."
Apollo nodded, understanding the burden of divine restrictions all too well. "Indeed, the old ways have shackled us for far too long. Perhaps the prophecy is telling us that it's time to break free from those constraints."
Their eyes met, a shared understanding passing between them. The ancient laws that prevented direct communication with their mortal children had caused much heartache in the past. This time, however, the stakes seemed even higher.
Poseidon's eyes flashed with determination," If Percy is the key to the balance, go seek him out, he has been hidden by Hecate's mists, he lives in isolation down in Florida. The ancient laws, while broken. It still remains fresh on everyone's minds if I were to go–"
Apollo sensing his Uncle's fears, he understood. Percy was in a delicate place and if all of the gods knew Poseidon had visited his son, they might make the same connections. "We can't let him face this alone. You can count on me, Uncle. I may not be as close to Percy as you, but with my baby sister's livelihood at stake as well, I cannot afford to ignore this."
As the night wore on, the two gods continued to discuss the prophecy and their potential role in shaping the future. There, in the heart of the mortal world, away from the grandeur of Olympus, they formed a pact, the world might be at stake but in the end it would be Perseus, and Artemis on the front lines of whatever is to come.
—-