"Right," Percy drawled as he looked around his picked-over room. He had spent the morning packing away clothes, shampoo, toiletries, and anything else he might have needed for his forced vacation. "Olive, do you think they'll have wash machines where I am going?"
The tree spirit in question poked her head into his room, "Perhaps. However, you should expect not. Therefore, you can not be disappointed when they do not."
"So, no?" His eyebrows furrowed as his lips dipped.
"No," she confirmed as she stepped into the doorway. The first hints of the rising sun struck her back through the windows on the far side of the house.
Percy threw another four shirts and pants into his second suitcase, forced it shut, zipped it closed, and leaned against it. He paused, his hands resting on the shell cover. The dark blue glossy paint job stared up at him. It did not look too far off from the night sky with its speckles. He turned away.
"I really don't want to do this." He looked to Olive. "Find me a reason to stay. Will you?"
"I cannot. You promised your mother that you would take this journey before she left. That you would try to find happiness on this trip. And I will not break my promise to her. That I will force you to go no matter what."
So Mother has ensnared you as well, Olive?
Percy sighed, "Yeah. I know." His head fell.
The floorboards could use a polish. Maybe I take another day before I leave to do that. No. Hekate wouldn't accept that. He needed a better excuse.
"She'll be here soon. Are you sure you have everything?" Olive stepped closer and began to look over his room. Her gaze traveled to his bathroom as she checked to ensure he didn't forget anything. "Toothbrush and toothpaste?"
"Got it. Suitcase number one."
"Rain jacket?" She poked her head into his closet.
"I don't even get wet, but yes, I have a jacke-"
"What of a wand?" Hekate bursted into his room. The door slammed into the wall as she flung it open. Even though it was already open, she just pushed it further for effect.
Percy jumped as he turned to the goddess who had just appeared.
Great. You're here already.
"You need a bell around your neck!" he bit out. "You could have at least knocked or done anything but shout and slam the door."
"Nonsense. I enter as I please." She sauntered into the room, a hand perched over her lips. "However, do you think I should wear a choker, Perseus? With a little bell as well? My, I didn't think that was your type."
Please just be quiet. Is that so hard?
It took too much restraint and mental willpower not to smack the smug smirk off her face.
Hitting a woman was wrong, and Mom would not be happy.
He unclenched his hand and pulled away from his pocket as he massaged his forehead. She was going to give him a headache before they even left.
He took a deep breath and composed himself before he looked at her, "Why are you in my bedroom, Hekate? I have a whole living room you could have waited in for me to be ready. Even better yet, you could just call this all off and leave."
"Never. I am here for you," she said, glancing between him and the tree spirit with a grin. "Did you forget the arrangement you so happily agreed to? The time and place we were set to meet?"
"Please do not antagonize him," Olive whispered, not meeting the goddess' eyes.
"He's a big boy. Isn't that right, Perseus?"
"It's Percy," he corrected. "She's right. I would prefer it if you listened to Olive. I would like to try and start this adventure on a good foot."
Hekate frowned momentarily before she forced a smile, "Of course. Speaking of, we should be leaving soon. It is half past the first light, as we agreed. Have you said your goodbyes?"
No. I'm trying to find an excuse to say instead of a goodbye.
"Not yet."
"Best get to it." Hekate gestured at the two. "We have to do some shopping for the school year before we can head to the World Cup."
Hekate turned and left the room with a swish of her purple dress, whistling growing faint as she left the area. Percy turned to his companion of the last year.
"Say there is an emergency in a few hours that I need to be here to help. Say it's a primordial for all I care."
"Percy," Olive reached out, her arms wrapped around him. "Breathe in and out." He did as she said. "Your fear of leaving will lead you to a darker place than you are. A more harmful place."
"You don't know that."
"It is only a year. Three hundred sixty-five days at most. You have fought more monsters than that in a single battle. If you can conquer them, you can conquer each day. Do you hear me?" She pulled his face to meet her stare.
"Yes," he whispered.
"Will you seize the days and conquer each of them?" she asked. No, it wasn't an ask. It was a demand.
"You'll be fine without me here?" He gave in.
"Of course." She pulled him in for a hug. Her arms wrapped around him, holding him up as he leaned into her.
"You'll IM me when the foal is coming, right?" he whispered. "So that I can be here to help deliver it."
"Yes, Percy. You do not need to worry about this place or me. We shall be taken care of."
He pulled back, "I know. I know. I just…"
I cannot lose anymore…
"You are trying to stall." Olive stepped back closer to him. Her hand came forward and rested on his cheek. "Do not be afraid of the next great adventure, Hero. Go forth and conquer."
He smiled, hugged her, and held her close.
Conquer the world… Seize the day. You could inspire a man to rule the world with those words.
"Conquer, huh?" he teased. "Storm the gates and all?"
"You are stalling." She pulled away and softly tapped his chest with a smile. "Scram, before I drag you out with some roots."
Percy let his head fall as he looked at his suitcases. Effortlessly, he shouldered their weight as he listened to the whistling from the living room.
Seize the day. One at a time. They are all just another monster I have to beat.
He stepped into his living room.
Once again, Hekate was enthralled in his bookshelf. Her hand traced over the spines of leather as she bobbed her head back and forth. Her black hair was that of silk with how perfect it looked.
"Have you steeled your soul and found the path you shall take?" she asked without facing him.
"I did." He stepped closer to her.
She turned to face him, her eyes a dull purple. The two locked eyes, neither moving as they sized the other up.
She didn't have any make-up on, Percy noticed. That her divine beauty was begrudgingly natural. Even the tiny dimples that formed as she smiled were perfect on her.
She snapped her fingers, and his suitcase vanished.
"They'll find us at our destination," she answered his unasked question.
He nodded and lowered his arms that ghosted the air from where they held his luggage on his shoulders.
"Take my hand," she purred.
Her right arm was outstretched and faced down. Her knuckles faced him with only a singular ring adorned on her fingers. A beautiful sea-green jewel surrounded by a black band that kept it locked in place.
His vision flicked back and forth between her eyes and her ring.
He felt like he was about to kiss a princess' hand.
He would have to bow to do that, however.
He reached out with his blood-stained nails and took her by her forearm above her ornate golden bracelets and jewel-filled bands.
She smirked, and her eyes sparkled, "We should link arms properly then, for this next part, of course."
"Why's that?" He held firm to where he was at.
"We'll be traveling between here and London in under a second." She forced her arm to loop with his, beating his inhuman strength. A smirk spread across her face, "You don't wish to fall off. Who knows where you would land?"
Percy pulled her tighter to him, "Don't mistake this for me trying to make a move on you. I'd rather not be stranded in Europe."
"Never," she leaned in closer, her perfume on his lips: vanilla. "It would be a shame to have someone of my beauty latched to your arm as you debut in the magical world. Why, little old me, is but a humble peasant to them."
He leaned back, "Just transport us, Witch."
She huffed and rolled her eyes, "Please?"
He raised his chin and glared down at her.
Then the world collapsed inwards and spun.
:P LINEBREAK d:
"Oh, gods. That was horrible." Percy fell to the ground when his feet finally connected to a solid construct.
What had been a mere moment of reality had felt like a strenuous minute of contortion of the mind and body, and Percy's body was far from sorted. He sat on his hands and knees as his body searched for equilibrium now that the world was still. Yet, he couldn't find it as he stayed down, panting.
"Stop being dramatic," Hekate sighed. "I did the soft version."
"The soft version?" Percy looked up at her from the ground. "There's a worse version?"
"No. It just gets easier to deal with overtime."
"Or we just don't deal with it." His head fell once more as he rested his forehead upon the stone ground. "I have a pegasus. My father has those pearls. You gods can flash around too. Why did we have to become beyblades compressed through a strainer?"
"Authenticity of the experience." Hekate shrugged. "I used the magical world's primary form of transport. We are blending in."
"I think I'm going to puke," Percy wheezed.
Hekate rolled her eyes and stepped away, "Well, hurry up, then. I'd like to move on before the next group lands atop us."
A few minutes later, Percy found his footing and lost his lower jaw as he stared at the world before him.
"What in the world am I looking at, Hekate?"
"This is Diagon Alley." The goddess splayed her hands out as the two looked down the street before them. "The central wizarding of England. Well, at least it was the last time I was here."
Before the two Greek travelers, a stone-laden path traced through crooked and misshaped buildings that looked more like poorly stacked boxes as they shadowed over the people below. Garrish splashes of muted purple and drab greens clashed with splotches of orange accents across the buildings as if a child had taken their crayons to the wall and unleashed all Hades of a mess. Of course, then, the cleanup crew had taken to partially scraping away said crayons leaving a ruined mess.
"This is chaos," Percy affirmed. His wide-eyed gaze met the goddess' who shrugged.
"This is magic, actually," Hekate countered with another shrug.
"These buildings are one Jenga brick pull away from collapsing."
The goddess looked at Percy, her brows knitted in annoyance, "Actually, the layers and interwoven magic are far superior than you give them credit for. Despite its abstract construction, nothing will come tumbling down unless someone acts to pull them down with superior magic. Which would be quite a show of power."
"If you show any Athena-kid this, they'll lynch the town. Then rebuild the town while they are at it."
One of her perfect eyebrows rose as she deadpanned at him, "Are you done yet?"
"Should I start with what I think of the people walking by?" Percy pointed at a tall man whom the crowd parted for as he marched down the central street. His cape-like robes billowed in his wake. "I'm pretty sure that guy over there hasn't seen a shower once in his life."
"What happened to the man in the farmhouse I just saddled myself to? We are moving, you child." She pulled his arm down and forced him forward into the mosh of wizards and witches that crowded the main street like rats in a pipe. "We need to head to the bank first so I can get us some money."
Percy freed himself of Hekate's grasp after a forceful tug, and she whipped back to stare. The purple in her eyes had begun to shimmer as she stared into his soul. Then, she turned away, and he fell into her shadow, "Why do you need money if you own all of this?"
A few people glanced at him as he said that. He gave them a good glare in return. The strangers' lips fell into frowns before they stuck their chins in the air and moved on.
"I don't own any of it, actually. I just created their ability to use magik on a very diluted and more or less controlled scale. I gave them magic and let them play."
"Right, Miss Magic," Percy drawled. "So, why do you need money then? Just create it with, you guessed it, magic." He rolled his eyes, sarcastically threw his hands up, and wiggled his fingers.
Hekate sighed and rounded on him, her eyes sharpening as she stared into him, "Do you understand nothing of trying to blend in and immerse yourself in the local culture?"
"No. I was usually too busy dealing with yours and the other gods' messes when I went on my 'trips.'"
Hekate jabbed a finger into his chest, "You cannot use that with me. You have not had to clean any of my messes."
"So? You gods are all the same." Percy swatted her hand away from his chest. "Who cares if it is you or the War One? I was the one who had to fix things for all of you. I guarantee by the end of this, I will be the one cleaning up whatever mess that is happening here that you haven't told me about. It is just how these things work, and you are lucky my mother doesn't realize that. This place will give me a monster a day."
"I'm not the other gods that you know. I care, Perseus. I make an effort to correct mistakes and make things right. I didn't bring you here to sort out my problems. I brought you here for an experience, a gift, a way to help you, and by Khaos, I will be damned if I do something right by you. So stop complaining and just humor me." The two faced off, unwavering in their glares. "Now, we need to get to the bank so I can get us money to blend in and buy our wands. Is that something you would like to complain about as well?"
Piss off.
Percy glared at her as he shrugged.
"Good boy." Hekate smirked, spun on her heel, and marched towards what Percy assumed was the bank.
It was a tall white building that looked normal amongst the madness of the misshapen construction beyond it. However, the marble steps and walls were too clean and pristine for the Disney Channel Halloween movie reject that was the main street. Thankfully, the sun wasn't shining as it hid behind a floor of clouds, or else, the white walls would only reflect Apollo's might and would have blinded anyone in the vicinity.
The goddess and demigod climbed the entrance steps, past two horrific-looking armored guards that watched their every movement. Their mushed helmeted faces snapped back to the street once they crossed the doorway into the bank.
Creeps.
The guards totally weren't human or even tall, for that matter.
He suppressed the urge to reach for his blade. The piece of metal wouldn't lead to anything good anyways.
I just need to breathe. To relax. I've been off since we landed. Just find my center. Gods, I wish Olive was here.
He inhaled and began to count to ten in his head, holding the air in his chest.
"They are goblins," Hekate supplied as she led him inwards to the most decadent place Percy had seen outside Olympus. "Best not to stare at them. Prideful beings and such."
He exhaled. Calmer than before but still on edge as his fingers tapped at his hips. A steady pattern mimicking a song he heard on his truck radio.
A goblin met Percy's gaze and barred its teeth. Heeding Hekate's advice, Percy averted his gaze away from the sharp-fanged thing-goblin who sat on top of a stack of gold bars to see over a table. Instead, he looked up at the glimmering crystal chandelier as large as a truck hanging over the center of the bank hall. It even glimmered in its reflection upon the perfect floors.
"Yeah. I am picking up on that," he mumbled to himself.
Percy looked back up and saw Hekate across the room conversing with a goblin in a three-piece suit on top of a high-standing pedestal. Percy closed the gap to her just in time to see the little mushed-faced creature hand the goddess a black bag with an embroidered "G" in gold.
Hekate nodded to the goblin and turned to Percy, "Come. We have our money."
"Wands next, right?" He looked at the bag. It was tiny. There was no way it fit anything more than twenty quarters. However, this was magic….
"Careful, Perseus. You almost sound interested." She led him to the doors.
"Why do I need a wand when I have my own powers? I am not your child, nor am I a warlock."
"Correction, you are not a wizard. Warlock was a title earned by high masters of Magik back in the day. If I remember correctly, it fell out of popularity a century or two ago."
Percy stepped up and opened the door, and held it for her to pass him.
"How long have you been out of touch with these people again?" Percy asked. The two stepped out of the bank and back into the outside chaos.
People meandered, moving with disorganized paths. Vendors yelled, advertising products from the sides as green and silver scarfs floated above their heads. Other vendors showcased similar things, like miniature figurines on brooms adorning maroon outfits.
"Some time," the goddess answered as she shouldered into the crowd. "Britain has long since been the central gathering of my wizards after the Roman Empire collapsed. However, they are very self-contained and governed. I imagine it was some time close to then. I did not feel the need to overlook their lives anymore, and before I knew it, the Flame of the West had moved to America. From there, I oversaw the American wizards' rise to their own power and control."
"So sometime after the fall of Rome?" he quirked his head at her. "That's vague,"
"I officially stopped influencing things after Napoleon died. 1800s."
"Right. Ok then, because using the collapse of the Roman Empire as a 'close' time period to Napoleon makes sense."
Hekate rolled her eyes, "You'll learn, Perseus. That a century from now, you'll see how much time begins to blend together when a year begins to feel like a day and then an hour. When a mortal's life is nothing but a blink of your eyes, that one day, you'll see the end, and yesterday will only feel like the beginning."
"I think I'll just find Bessie before then and solve the never-ending thing then and there."
Hekate turned to him, eyebrows furrowed. She waved her hand, and the clamoring crowds he had filtered out became fell deathly silent as they mindlessly passed the two in the middle of the street. Parting around them like a rock in a stream, mouths moving but making no noise.
Magic…
"You truly hate your divinity," she whispered as if it was a horrible story to share. "Your gift…"
"I hate the idea of living to see everyone I know and love die."
"The wounds they will leave in your life will always heal in time," she countered easily as if she had spoken that statement a million times before.
"Why would I ever want wounds in the first place?"
She stepped closer to him, consuming his personal space, but not aggressively as she had earlier in the morning.
"We bleed for what we care for." She reached out slowly and gently touched his chest, over his heart. He felt it hammer away under her touch. "Our hearts must pump for our passions and our desires." Her hands moved to bare his arm. She traced her finger down his forearm, and her nail bit into his skin, drawing a drop of polluted gold and maroon blood. "To be wounded is to feel and to know that things truly matter. That time will pass, may even blur, and you may forget it exists, but the scars of our love remind us what is real." She retraced her scratch in his skin. The blood vanished and left a small white line.
A scar that no one would ever notice unless they really searched for it.
"Are you done marking up my arm?" he huffed and pulled his arm away.
She scoffed, "You are a child. Unwilling to let others help you."
She waved her hand, and the noise of the alley resumed. The hollering of vendors, parents who barked at their children to come back, and even the occasional foreigner with broken English. The noise flooded back and crashed onto Percy as people bumped his shoulder as they passed by.
Percy didn't care, though. His eyes lingered on the white scar on his arm.
I'm not a child.
The demigod looked up to see his guide enter a storefront with a large glass window that hid little inside, mostly shelves. He watched as an older man with whimsical hair, not unlike Einstein, bowed to the goddess who had entered. The man nodded to whatever Hekate said before his gaze locked with Perseus' own. The man nodded once more before he motioned for Percy to come inside.
Percy sighed and shouldered his way through the crowd earning himself a couple of remarks from a French man. Percy didn't care to apologize. His gaze remained locked on the old man inside the shop. The old crazed-looking man who had tilted his head and watched as Percy entered through the front door with a ding.
"A pleasure to finally meet you, Perseus Jackson, son of Poseidon. I am Ollivander, crafter of the finest wands this side of the Isle." The Old Man offered his arm out to shake.
Percy took it, and he shook it once.
"Right." Percy glanced at Hekate, browsing the bookshelves of boxes that made up the entire store. "Glad to know I'm known all the way even here."
"But of course, young man. Anyone who still knows of the Old Ways knows of you." Olivander clapped Percy on the shoulder. "To think, at your age, you have already bested Gods, Titans, and Primordials alike. If I didn't know any better, I would say you were The King reborn."
"The King?" Percy raised his eyebrow.
Did he mean Zeus? Or the British King? Wait, or was it a queen? Doesn't matter. I'm not British.
"Yes, the Father of Olympus has many claims of victory. Have you never read your history, Hero?"
"Uh, no, actually," Percy stuttered as he looked to Hekate, who floated off the floor as she browsed the higher levels of the shelves. "History just found its way into my life in other ways."
"I wouldn't worry about what has been said about our history, Percy," Hekate called out as she met his gaze. "The victor writes the narrative, and the victor can never be seen doing anything truly horrendous. You are not nearly as close to The King as one might perceive." She descended to the floor and offered him a box. "Try this. If what you spoke of earlier is how you feel. This will be the one."
Percy stared at the box for a moment before meeting her eye. Her gaze flickered to the box and to him, and he hesitantly took it from her. His fingers met dust and the box's old wood as he slowly opened the contraption to reveal a silk lining surrounding a singular stick of wood. The brown wand was streaked with tiny black lines. It reminded Percy of a tiger's print, just less abundant.
"Palmwood!" Olivander noted. "Why an exceptional first choice, My Lady. Give it a whirl, lad."
Palmwood? Like a palm tree?
Percy looked at the man and then back at the wooden stick.
This sure won't go wrong.
He twirled the wand.
A fountain of water spewed from the end.
The rush of water peaked into the air and hovered a moment independent of gravity before dissipating and falling into a mist that fell softly to the floor. From the scattered light outside, a rainbow formed within the wand-created waterfall.
Water magic… Bit redundant.
"For a son of the Sea, I do believe that would be a match, Mr. Ollivander." Hekate smiled at the old man. "First try, too."
"I expected nothing less from you, My Lady." The wandmaker bowed before he turned to Percy. "May I see the wand? I wish to see how the core sings now that it has bonded."
Percy looked up, "The core?"
"Why yes, the most crucial part of the wand. The core channels the magic we have been blessed with from the world and bends it to our will. Then, the wood is there to connect the caster to the core. The two factors dictate much about what you can infer about a witch or wizard."
Percy handed it over, "What does mine say of me?"
Olivander delicately pulled the wand close to his eye as he slowly pulled the rod across his vision.
"A perfect match. The palm wood indicates your resilience in the face of the strongest storms or, more aptly, the world's problems. You can weather anything that comes your way, bending and shaping yourself to withstand but never breaking." He shifted the wand to look down its length. "The core, on the other hand, comes from my earliest attempts at wand-making. When I was trying to find the best wand cores. I had written this core off as incompatible and undesirable."
The man returned the wand to Percy before he spoke again, "I can almost hear it singing. You see, you have a siren's hair for your core. And correct me if I am wrong, My Lady, but the story goes that the original sirens were cursed by the Harvest Mother. She had thought them compliant in the abduction of her daughter, and she cursed them to live forever until a mortal could sail past them while listening to their songs.
"As you know, however, when they hear a siren, mortals tend to be drawn in and unable to move along. The Olympian in question had practically cursed them to live eternally, singing forever on their rocks in the sea, waiting for them to be ignored and allowed to die."
Percy peaked at Hekate, who was inspecting her nails in front of her, but he didn't miss how her eyes flicked to his momentarily.
I get why it works for me then.
"What does that mean for me, then? Magically speaking." Percy asked.
"A many things, young man. A many things."
Percy waited for him to elaborate, but the wandcrafter did not as he turned away to his shelves. Percy looked to Hekate, who had put down her hand and now stared into him and caused his skin to goosebump.
"Hekate?"
The goddess blinked. Her eyes glowed even more than before. "Your wand core, the siren," she spoke, "it was one of your father's creations when I came to him looking to mix my magic with his powers. He had remolded what had initially been a veela into the first siren. A beautiful woman with wings, a fish's tail, and an enchanting voice. He had called it a man's dream wife that she could take him to the furthest reaches of the sky and to the deepest lows of the sea.
"That she could sing him to comfort, day and night. He had deemed it the perfect woman. Then, of course, his sister came along and cursed them. Mr. Olivander was not wrong with his story. The perfect wife was cursed to live on, undying, as their mate passed on, but the sirens could not join them."
She stopped as she watched the storekeeper come back with leather sleeves in each hand.
"Black or brown, hero?" The man held up each sleeve.
"Uh, black, I guess. What is that, sir?"
Olivander held up the leather for Percy to see, "A wand holster. Strap it to your forearm, your thigh, or your leg. Wherever you wish, and it will store your wand safely and protect it no matter which way the limb bends," Olivander explained as he showcased where the back leather sleeve could go. "I suggest the forearm, though, as it makes drawing from within the robes easier."
Percy reached out and took hold of the black holster.
It didn't feel like atypical leather, and the print reminded him more of an alligator or crocodile. It was soft, though, on the inside. Too soft.
Percy strapped it to the outside of his right arm. The holster glowed momentarily before it tightened around and conformed to his arm. It felt like the bracers he would wear with his full armor, just sleeker and lighter.
"It looks to be a fine quality of dragon leather." Hekate stepped forward to inspect the sleeve. Her fingers traced over the grooves. "How much do we owe you for all of this?"
"Nothing." The wandmaker clapped his hands together and bowed at the waist. "It is a gift, as your presence here is payment enough."
Hekate reached out and touched his shoulder to drag the bowed man to face them, "I insist. We came here as mortals. We wish to pay as mortals."
"Then it is free. A special by-the-hour sale that you have magically walked in during."
Hekate turned to Percy with her purple eyes. She turned to back the wandmaker and then Percy once more.
Does she expect me to convince him?
Percy shrugged.
"You are no help, Perseus," she sighed and returned to the wandmaker. "Please let me pay you, Garrick Ollivander. Your family has done my world a service for centuries. Accept this from me."
The old man shook his head and held his hands before him, blocking any offer, saying, "I will accept no tribute from The Goddess of Magic. It would be ill to charge you of all beings to help someone connect with their inner magic."
"You leave few choices then. I will have to speak to the goblins about transferring some funds to your account later. Who knows how much I might overpay when I do that." Hekate shrugged.
Ollivander frowned as he locked eyes with Hekate.
The man sighed, and his head fell. His silver hair cascaded down around his face as he looked at the brown holster in his clutches. He sat there mulling over his situation, and then on a flip, he smiled once more as he looked up. His hair flicked back out of the way as his silver eyes locked on the goddess' purple eyes.
"Fine. I charge seven galleons a wand, but the holster is on the house." He turned to Percy. His silver eyes glimmered behind his glasses. "A thank you to the Hero of the World and defeater of all evil."
"Okay," Percy replied before he shook his head at himself. "I mean, thank you. I appreciate your gift."
"You are quite generous," Hekate intervened. "I know your work is worth far more than what you ask."
"The real payment I receive is watching a wand pair with its intended. That and my shelves become less cluttered," Olivander laughed.
"Thank you, all the same," she told the wandmaker.
"Thank you," Percy added as well.
"Use your wand wisely, young man."
"I'll try."
Percy slid the wand into his holster as Hekate gave him a once-over and nodded before she began to march out the front door. The bell above the door twinkled as it shut behind them, and they were on the street once more. Throngs of people passed by.
"Amazing, isn't it?" Hekate asked him as she looked over the crowd and closer her eyes, and inhaled. She held it a moment, standing taller before she exhaled and met his gaze. Her eyes glowed purple as her divinity bled through. "All this magik."
"Your eyes." Percy pointed at her. "Might want to cut that out if you don't want to give it away that we don't belong here."
"That is where you are wrong. We do belong here, I more than anyone," Hekate started. "All of this before you, every single person that crowds this alley has traveled from across the world for the World Cup here in the coming days. Each and every one of them uses magic in their daily life, and it is all because of me. Why should I not take pride in it?"
Pride kills.
"How many have died because of your magic?" he asked her.
"What?"
"You heard me? How many have died or killed another with your magic? Do you take pride in that as well?"
"Of course not, but this is different. This is my community. My creation, my gift, blossomed into a working civilization. Should an architect not be proud of their design?"
"When the buildings make the leaning tower of Piza look straight, I don't think you should be happy with the result."
"That's where you are wrong, Perseus. This is chaos, yes, but it's controlled. Its harnassed. To think, I did this all and created it. You cannot shame me for enjoying it."
"Okay. At least stop making your eyes glow."
"I cannot." She blinked. "I am absorbing the ambient power here."
"And that makes your eyes glow?" He cocked an eyebrow.
"Yes, just as yours did when you fought Gaia. Power is more than a concept. It is tangible. It is sometimes the only thing people will ever accept."
Power is uncontrollable no matter how hard you try.
"Right… and you said your absorbing power here? What do you mean by that?" Percy looked around for a clue as to what would feed her power.
"When your divinity consumes you, I may be able to teach you to see, but for now, do you know of Leylines?"
He frowned and looked around, "Wouldn't happen to be where you lay down in a line, would it?"
"Not at all. Leylines are where the natural energies of Khaos have collected."
"Chaos?"
"With a ''K''. Khaos was or rather is creation. They go by many identities across the world's mythos, but for the most part, the idea is relatively the same no matter how fragmented others see it. Khaos was everything and nothing coalesced into existence. Born from the chasm of nonexistence, they created the universe.
"From it, the first beings were created. The primordials became manifestations of the Khaos energy that saturated the natural world. Their sentience birthed the sentience of the first beings like The Night and Earth Mother. From there, things trickled down to me, a Titan blessed with understanding the Khaos Essence that saturated the world like never seen before. We never could not use it, mind you. It is how, we, the divine, use our powers. We interact with the ambient Essence and mold it to our desires. I call it magik, with a ''K''. You call it our divinity.
"Consequently, your demigod powers are nothing more than you utilizing Magik. It is you funneling the latent Khaos Essence that has oversaturated the world to your will. It is also why you are turning divine. You have drawn on so much, especially so close to Khaos, themself, while you were in The Pit that it is only natural you are ascending."
What…?
"That's a lot to process…" Percy exhaled with a frown. "But how does all this differ from magic with a 'c'? Or is that a spelling error?"
"That is my creation for the clear-sighted to use. It is an application of the mortals interweaving with the Mist. Which that is my weave of magik that separates the divine from the mortal. They tap into that well of magik, runes, and power to replicate what you or other demigods can do on their own scale. It was largely more important for the cults that held worship for us back in the day. However, that faded and changed to what you see before you."
Percy let his gaze roam.
Owls flew above the people. Children stacked themselves around store windows. Adults came and went out of stores, arms bundled with purchases that vanished into their pockets. Cauldrons bubbled and fizzed inside shop windows.
This was magic.
It was chaos compared to his farm.
This alley was the evolution of the gods' cults. Well, the cults that survived and harnessed magic that evolved with man.
And it was the Mist? Could his mother use it then?
He turned to Hekate, "So, is the Mist a form of the Essence as well?"
"More or less. It is woven from similar threads but mixed with other pantheon iterations of Magik. The Egyptians, for example, have a more in-depth culture surrounding sorcery and rely heavily on their runes. From there, it was a matter of learning their ways to intertwine what they could do with what I could do and so on with any pantheon willing to let me study their divinity.
"In the end, the Mist is my creation. An amalgamation of magik and magics that can be tapped into on a small scale at large. For instance, a hundred of these wizards and witches would still be only a fraction of what you are because of your access to pure magik and Khaos Essence. For any wizard to be close to your level, they must either carry divine blood or have spent a century basking in leylines."
Percy felt as if his head was going to explode. She had created discount demigod powers for mortals to use.
These people in this alley could do what he did…
"The coin bag you have. It is bottomless or something, right? I saw you reach half your arm into it earlier. That's mortal magic, and I have never seen a demigod do that with their own powers."
"Demigods are byproducts of parental affinities. When you become a full-divine, pocket dimensions will be a snap of your finger. This small bag is a byproduct of thousands of years of studying, and only the most talented wizards can cast the enchantment needed. Even then, it is limited and imperfect."
"You really gave them divine power on a lesser scale." He swallowed the lump in his throat that had just formed.
She smiled, teeth and everything, "Yes, just as Khaos had done, I bestowed the Mist directly into people. I gave them their magic, tied to their bloodline, and from it blossomed this." She gestured to the alley once more. "How can I not take pride? How can I not want them to see me for who I am? That I am the goddess who gifted them their powers. That is why I won't stop my eyes."
He looked at her. Not her radiating eyes but her exuberant smile. Her proud smile.
Your divine pride…
He looked into her glowing eyes and couldn't stop the realization that rolled off his tongue, "This isn't about me. This is a power trip for you. This was never about my vacation."
She rolled her eyes as her smile fell, "As if you care for that. You are only here because your mother made you. If you had your wish, you would be no one. To be faded from minds and shy away on that farmland you called home." She huffed and stepped into the street.
People parted around her effortlessly, not even giving her a second glance.
"Abolish such thoughts, Perseus. Let yourself shine here." She threw her hands to the sky. "They do not know who you are or what you have done, whether you deem it good or bad. These people see you as another kid. They will see me as another powerful witch and nothing more. Here we are, no one despite it all." Her hands fell from the sky and landed on his shoulders as she consumed his vision with herself.
"Start your life over," she whispered. Her eyes zigged back and forth between each of his own. "Build yourself back to the person you wish to be in the world. Here in my creation, you can be whoever you want to be, but I forbid you from being a sour child any longer. Or else I will leave you stranded here."
AN: No beta on this one, so hope the mistakes weren't too bad.
Hope you enjoyed this. This story has a very expansive idea behind it, and if you don't understand something let me know, and I'll try to make sure everyone is on the same page. Feel free to even message me on the Emerald Library on Discord and we can go through it.
Anyways, we have finally entered the Wizarding World, so this will be getting fun.
Hope you enjoyed it!
That's about it.
-Manke