THE DESCENT II
"To win any battle, you must fight as if you are already dead."
It had been two days since Percy had entered this realm of frost and cold, and for two days he'd done nothing but fight, kill and run. He'd found a small overhang in the side of a mountain; it offered him shelter from the wind and snow, while providing a view of the valley.
A temporary safe haven.
He sat by his fire, watching as the meat cooked, changing from red to a dark brown. He had discovered that the red-furred direwolves that plagued these mountains didn't dissolve upon death, at least not instantaneously.
The meat was tough and not very flavourful, but it was food, and he'd take every nutrient he could get in his situation. They weren't that hard to kill either, but their claws were long and deathly sharp.
After some scouting, he had found that there was a vast ocean beyond these mountains. They were cut off by cliff faces, with a sea of black water beyond them. He hadn't dared to descend the cliffs yet.
Percy lifted his wooden stick off the fire, inspecting the chunks of meat. He was no chef, but they seemed properly cooked to him. He took a bite. Low and behold– just as bland as ever.
Despite the fact that he had been here for two days, now more than that, he still hadn't found anything pointing him towards the Doors, the next floor of this Pit. The ordeal reminded him of the labyrinth. Was he supposed to find a symbol or a room?
Was he supposed to kill a specific monster? Arachne's death had triggered the appearance of the door last time. But how could he find this monster? It could be anywhere, as far as he knew.
Outside, the sun was just coming up, marking the start of the third day he'd spend here. Percy sighed, finishing the rest of the meal in somber silence. He stomped out his fire, and began to get ready for the day.
His backpack and cloak were his most prized possessions, and his only possessions, along with his broken xiphos.
He slid down the slope beyond the edge of his cavern, using his sword to slow himself down. Once he was on flat ground, he began his trek north, where the lake was. It was the only place he hadn't dared venture yet.
That's where the wolves got their water. He'd seen them group up, about a dozen of them, circling the lake like guard dogs. They disappeared overnight though, which made him wonder where the hell they even went. A den?
Reaching the lake wasn't an issue. Percy weaved his way through the pines and rocks until his feet brought him to a smaller cliff, one directly above the frozen lake.
He was about to start climbing down, when he heard the sound of something scraping against the ice below. Percy froze, before dropping into a crouch, staying hidden behind a small boulder.
Speaking of wolves– a blood red direwolf the size of a small car was pacing on the ice, occasionally sniffing the ground. Its head perked up, ears twitching, before it sniffed the air next.
Could it smell him? Just his luck. Percy's grip on his sword tightened, but just as he was about to make a move, another noise caught his attention.
He rolled out of the way, just before an arrow whizzed by his head, embedding itself in the ice below. The wolf's gaze snapped onto him. It growled, hackles raised.
"Damn!" Percy dashed away from the cliff as another arrow missed his shoulder by mere inches. He ran diagonally, away from the archer and the wolf, though he knew the latter would catch up to him in no time.
The archer though… who was it?
Sprinting through the forest, he zigzagged through the flora like a cat. Behind him, he could hear the barks of multiple wolves, not just one. Had it called its pack?
A chorus of strange war cries echoed through the forest. High pitched voices that didn't belong to the wolves.
Something broke through the bushes to his right, slamming into him like a battering ram. Percy and the creature hit the ground with a thud.
The demigod could feel hands clawing at his neck and face. He grunted, twisting his legs until he found an opening to kick the creature away from him. Once he did, Percy rolled away before brandishing his sword.
It was a monster, no doubt. A small humanoid crouched on all fours, skinny and boney, with green skin to boot. Two yellowed tusks stuck out of its bottom row of teeth.
"What the hell are you?" Percy asked, flabbergasted as he watched it growl, getting to its feet.
The monster didn't seem to like that question. It unsheathed a bone dagger from its hip and charged.
Their blades clashed. Percy had expected the bone to splinter against celestial bronze, but surprisingly it held fast. The creature was quick, too.
It backhanded him in the jaw, causing him to stumble back. The monster flipped the knife, thrusting it towards his unprotected abdomen. Percy was no slouch either though.
In a flash, he twirled his broken blade. In one swoop, he cleaved right through the monster's wrist. A fountain of greenish blood sprayed onto his face and shirt.
The creature screamed in pain, but its cries were cut off as Percy ran it through, turning the monster to dust.
He looked down– a thin line of red was visible on his side, through a narrow tear in his clothes. The dagger had just barely nicked him. That would've been a lethal blow if it had landed.
Percy snatched the dagger off the floor, finally abandoning his broken sword, before he continued his run. Or he was going to, when he heard the sound of several bow strings being pulled all around him.
He froze, looking over his shoulder.
Three of the green creatures were perched up in the trees, bows aimed at him, while five more were surrounding him on the ground, armed with bone spears and knives. Two of them were even mounted on direwolves.
Were they allied? Or were the wolves just hunting dogs?
Either way, this was bad.
He turned and turned, but wherever he looked, a spear blocked his path. Was this it? The end? No, it couldn't be. He'd go out fighting if he had to.
One of the men riding the wolves stepped forward, abandoning his mount. He was taller and more filled out than the one Percy had killed, and he wore layers of red pelts.
He regarded the demigod with a cold expression.
"It's a half-breed," said the man. "A godling. I can smell the divine stench from here."
Percy frowned, hearing mutters of agreement from the other monsters. He huffed. "And who the hell are you?" he asked.
"Mind your tongue, boy!" One of the spearmen to his left snarled, jabbing at Percy's side with their spear.
Percy sidestepped, grabbing the weapon by the pole, and tugged hard enough to make the monster fall flat on their face.
Immediately, he felt a heavy blow to the back of his head, and another to his knees. A world of pain exploded in the back of his skull, and he saw stars. Percy hit the dirt face first, groaning in pain.
His vision was tunneling rapidly, but he could just barely make out the leader barking orders to the rest of them, before he felt a pair of hands pulling him by the legs.
Then everything faded.
"It will make you powerful. But it will also make you weak. Your prowess in combat will be beyond any mortal's, but your weaknesses, your failings will increase as well."
When he came to, not much time seemed to have passed, as he found himself lying on the ground, hands tied tightly behind his back. His weapons were taken from him, and so was his backpack.
Percy grunted, rolling over. There was a campfire, with most of the green skinned warriors sitting around it. They were located under an underpass of sorts, sheltered from the snow and wind. In a dark corner on the other side of the cavern, he could see the three wolves lying down, one of them watching him carefully, painted in the glow of the firelight.
One of the warriors he recognized as the spearman he'd shoved, noticed him first. The monster snarled.
"The godling is awake," he said with no small amount of disdain, standing up from his seat. He walked over to where Percy laid, before rearing his leg back. He kicked the demigod in the stomach.
Percy groaned, feeling the bile rising up in his throat. He tasted blood on his lips. He glared up at the spearman, but didn't speak. His throat wouldn't produce any noise but a growl.
"Miron," said another one of them. It was the leader, Percy remembered, the one who had faced him before. "Stop that. We need him in one piece, not several."
"He will live," Miron said with a smirk. "Legends say demigods are durable. Well, perhaps not as durable as we thought."
Laughter rippled through the group of monsters, and Percy felt the anger bubbling in his stomach. "Tell that to your mongrel friend who I killed," he spat. "I bet he would disagree."
"Quiet, boy!" Miron yelled. "Gaea wouldn't mind if some of your limbs were missing. She only needs your blood after all-"
Something struck the back of the monster's head, cutting him off. It was the leader, who had slapped him across the head. His tall frame towered over Miron's like Olympus itself.
"Where are your manners, Miron? Your obedience?" the hulking monster asked, his expression blank. "You disobey me, mention the earth mother's name so lightly… Shame on you."
Miron seemed to have shrunk four sizes in just a moment. He looked down at his feet, slouched. "Sorry, Mihael."
"Do not be sorry, it is a waste of breath," said the leader, Mihael, apparently.
He looked down at Percy next. His eyes were a piercing yellow color. "And you… you will not sing your song of freedom for long. Mother wants your head, and she will receive it as she wishes."
Mihael turned to the others, resting his palm on the hilt of his bone sword. "We've rested for long enough. Douse the fires and ready the wolves, we are leaving for homestead." he spoke, and his word was final.
Wordlessly, the rest of the troop did as he said, cleaning the place up until nothing but the ashes of the extinguished fire was left behind. Percy was lifted onto the back of a wolf, behind a rider who had both a knife and a sword. There was no way he could reach either of them though.
But that didn't matter. His hands fiddled with his back pocket, fingers worming into the fabric until they closed around a familiar object. A single shard of celestial bronze. He'd kept the pieces of his sword in his backpack, all except this one. Why, he didn't know, but it came in handy now. Its sharp edge was small, but it would have to do.
It wasn't the time yet though. He needed his stuff back, and time to recuperate. Maybe nick some new weapons from this crew of ogres. He'd play their game for a few rounds, see if he could find anything interesting.
The party headed west, away from Percy's campsite, across the valley. The mountain climb was tough, to the point where he wasn't sure if they were equipped to make the trip to the top. But that wasn't their goal. About an hour into the climb, Mihael hailed their company to stop.
The rider disappeared in between a narrow crevice in the face of a cliff. The others followed suit, with Percy and his guard making up the rear. He ducked under the sharp rocks as they passed through, before he was bathed in light.
The cave was well lit, surprisingly. He saw rows of torches, wooden structures like doors and tables. Hallways that led to gods know where. This was their homestead. They had been hiding in the mountains after all. Percy had his suspicions, but he didn't think the caves ran deep enough. It turned out they did.
He was roughly yanked off the wolf's back, smacking into the ground with a groan. They pulled him up, giving him a shove towards one of the halls. He caught a glance of Mihael talking to the guards, nodding at the demigod, before disappearing into one of the chambers.
Three of the green-skinned warriors led him through the halls until they reached a cell block, with bars made of wooden logs, after which they untied his hands and shoved him inside. It was dark and damp, with puddles of strange liquid in one corner and mold in the other.
Percy huffed, sitting down in a dry spot with his legs crossed. A bruise was forming on his ribs again. At least the cut on his side had stopped bleeding. He wondered how he must look; covered in blood and filth.
He took out the shard of bronze, holding it between his thumb and index finger. His reflection stared back in somber silence. He clenched his fist around the metal. He had to wait just a little more.
The minutes turned to hours as he waited in that exact spot. He even got some sleep, if only an hour or so. One of the guards brought him a meal, if you could call it that; a wooden bowl with some porridge-like substance inside, and a jug of water. He ate it all, despite the odd taste, trying not to think of what he might be eating.
After hours of waiting, doing nothing, Percy finally heard the guard at the end of the hall get up. The monster did one more checkup on the demigod– Percy sat against the wall, head down, pretending to sleep.
The guard walked away, his footsteps fading into nothing as the light of his torch disappeared into the tunnels. It was then that Percy knew this was his chance.
The wooden door of his cell was being held together by thick rope. Over the hours, when it was quiet, he had sliced into some of the rope where the ends of the logs met each other. As expected, the celestial bronze shredded the material like it was nothing.
Percy took out the shard and cut three of the logs loose, carefully placing them against the wall in his cell to avoid making any noise. This created a gap just big enough for him to slip through.
Once he rose to his full height, finally free of the cell, he exhaled deeply. Now, he had to find where they had kept his stuff.
He was about to start walking, when a loud snore caught him off guard. He froze.
At the end of the hall, a pair of boots poked out from behind the wall. A guard. Percy cursed, taking deep breaths to calm his racing pulse. They had posted a guard to keep an eye on him after all. It was foolish to think they'd leave him alone overnight.
But he supposed it didn't matter. He quietly rounded the corner– the warrior was slouched against the wall on a bench, sound asleep, his cheek resting against the pole of his spear.
Percy huffed. He was almost offended that they'd underestimated him this much. Almost.
He snuck through another set of hallways, reaching a place that was more well lit than before. It took him a few minutes of investigating, but he found that one of the rooms there was a supply room, while the other was a common bedroom of sorts. Through the gaps in the wood, he could see several of the warriors sleeping on mats and pelts.
Quiet as a mouse, he slipped into the supply room.
Percy suppressed a cough. Gods, this place was dusty. Shelves and boxes covered all four walls of the room, with all kinds of items he'd never seen before. Rows of rusted weapons and armor, old clothes, and–
Bingo. His backpack, covered in his cloak, sat on a wooden crate on his right hand side. Percy snatched it up, but not before checking out the other items too. He even found an old revolver, a gun, laying around.
He left that one alone, wondering how it even got here in the first place.
A sharp gleam caught his eye. Percy halted in his step as he was about to pass a pile of old leather tunics and pelts. The light that shone through the cracks in the wooden door bounced off the silver handle of a weapon that stood against the wall, behind the pile.
A sword.
Percy grabbed it, blowing the dust off the scabbard. He let his fingertips trace the ornate designs in the leather. It wasn't a xiphos. It wasnt't even Greek, not by a long shot.
He pulled the blade free of its sheath. It was longer than Riptide by about a foot, made of a silver colored aloy that seemed to shine in the darkness. Symbols were carved along the blade near the hilt, but Percy couldn't decipher what they said or where they were from.
He gave it an experimental swing. It was light, unnaturally light.
Another thing; despite the wear and tear of every other item in the room, this sword was in pristine condition. Not a scratch on it. In other words, it was probably magical. He debated if he should even take it. It might've been cursed.
His train of thought screeched to a halt when he heard the sound of a concerned shout. Percy froze. Another shout, then another. Soon, he heard the rumbling of a dozen footsteps.
"Find him! Find the godspawn! He couldn't have gone far!"
Percy cursed under his breath. He'd taken too long, he'd been too curious. He could've been back at his campsite by now, planning his next move. He hastily fixed the scabbard to his belt and made sure he had all of his belongings on him, before taking a deep breath.
He burst through the supply room's door, catching one of the warriors horribly off-guard. The monster popped into a cloud of dust with a single swing of his sword. It almost felt too easy. He sprinted across the room, through the hallway before he encountered two more of them.
The first one went down easy. Avoiding a clumsy swing of the axe, Percy ran him through. The second one was harder– he had a shield.
Percy bellowed a war cry, hacking into the warrior's shield. His silver blade cleaved through the wood like it was paper, sinking into the forearm. He ripped his sword free, kicking the monster off balance. The warrior's scream was cut off, as a stab to the chest turned him to dust.
The demigod passed through the crevice which marked the entrance of the cave, his feet sinking into the snow once again. It was snowing heavier this time, and the wind was nigh unbearable. It was pitch black outside, only the navy blue moon (?) provided him with a tiny bit of light.
He saw several flickering lights on the mountain– torches. They had already begun searching for him. Had they assumed he'd left immediately, without checking if his stuff was gone? Shame on them.
Several synchronized howls echoed through the night. Percy took that as his sign to start running, which was easier said than done with the thick snow that reached halfway up his shins.
He cleared a narrow crevasse in the ground with a jump, only to lose his balance on the steep incline. Catching himself with his hand, he slid down the slope until his foot sank into a cold puddle of water.
No, not a puddle. The lake. He could see the ice glitter under the blue moonlight. Percy looked around, yet all the mountains looked identical. He had no idea where his campsite was, and that was the only place he was sure they wouldn't find him.
Something collided with him, sending both of them skidding onto the ice. Percy grunted as the wolf's teeth sunk into his shoulder, piercing flesh. He shoved his sword into the monster's abdomen, and its jaws went slack.
Percy pushed the heavy body off of him, ignoring how the blood had soaked his clothes, and ran across the frozen plateau as fast as the ice would let him. His shoulder was bleeding rather heavily, staining his sweater red even more.
He sensed something to his right– another direwolf was charging at him as if the ice didn't bother it at all. Percy ducked, sliding under the monster's dive.
The demigod slid to a stop, wobbly as he was. The wolf growled, golden eyes glowing in the dark.
An arrow buried itself at Percy's feet.
"Shit," he cursed, quickly swiping at the wolf with his sword. The blade caught it in the eye– the wolf howled in pain. A stab to the skull made its eyes lose their light. He ignored the fact that this seemed very different from killing regular monsters. More gruesome.
And he was running again. The other side of the lake wasn't far.
The riders had started surrounding him though. He could see them to his right, left and sensed some behind him too. But there was a chink in their armor- right ahead of him. He just needed to make it to the other side.
Percy waved his arm blindly. A wall of water erupted from the lake, tearing the ice behind him to bits. It rose into the sky, creating a smoke screen of sorts.
He finally made it, jumping behind the treeline. Now he just needed to lose them. That stunt with the water would only slow them down. He just hoped he'd ended a few of them at least. Percy sprinted through the forest, trying to ignore the way his muscles screamed at him to take it easy.
Until he saw the glimmer of a blade in the moonlight, heading right for his head.
Percy threw himself backwards, slamming against a tree. The bone sword missed by mere inches. The demigod instantly recognized the silhouette that rounded the tree to face him.
"Mihael," he said, licking the blood off his lips. He'd bit his tongue just now. "Nice to see you as well."
"I do not share your enthusiasm," the leader of the warriors said, a heavy frown marring his features. "I'm going to kill you now."
"Yeah," Percy said, rising to his full height with a somber look on his face. "Yeah, that's not gonna work for me."
Their swords clashed, and Percy's blade quickly proved to be the stronger one of the two when the bone sword promptly snapped in half. Despite that, Mihael flipped it into a reverse grip and ducked low, slicing at Percy's midsection.
The demigod dodged it with a sidestep, bringing the sword down on the warrior's shoulder. At least he would've, if Mihael didn't shove his broken weapon in between him and Percy's blade at the last second.
They pushed against each other for a few long, tense moments. Mihael's began to cut into his own shoulder, causing him to groan in agony. He clenched his tusk-like teeth and pushed, but Percy simply had the advantage.
He kicked Mihael in the stomach, making him double over. As the warrior coughed and gasped, Percy swung his sword in a wide arc, bringing it down on the monster's neck with a loud battle cry.
Mihael turned to dust, leaving Percy standing there, breathing erratically.
If he hadn't had his new sword… that fight would've gone very differently. But it was no use thinking of that now. He needed to move. Get to high ground, and find a cave or some form of shelter–
Something collided with his back, sending arcs of pain through his left shoulder. Percy gasped, looking down, only to see the tip of an arrow piercing through his shoulder. It had gone right through.
"What-" Percy gasped, looking over his shoulder.
There at the top of a hill, with a bow in his hand, stood Miron. The demigod felt his anger bubbling, running through his veins like lightning. He snapped the tip of the arrow. That bastard-
As he was about to intercept the blasted archer, dizzy and agonized as he was, something slammed into him from the side. The direwolf latched on to his left arm as they struggled in the dirt. He felt the fangs pierce his skin, breaking the bone with a horrifying crack, and screamed.
"Get… Get off of me!" the demigod roared, shoving his sword right through the bottom of its mouth, into its skull. Hot blood rained down on him, but he couldn't care less.
His arm was mangled and broken, an arrow piercing the same shoulder. He was littered in bruises and cuts. Percy rolled behind a tree to hide from Miron's arrows. He heard at least two of them collide with the bark. His wounds screamed.
His vision was beginning to blur from exhaustion. If he moved too much, he'd bleed out. If he stayed, the remaining green-skins would kill him either way. So what-
The ocean.
The cliffs beyond the mountains. If their homestead was behind him, and the wind… He felt it brush past his face, to the east? Percy looked in a direction, ahead of him to the right. If he was correct, and he prayed to the gods that he was, then the ocean should be that way.
There was no time to waste. He could already hear the monsters' war cries not too far behind him. Getting to his feet in agonizing pain, Percy lifted himself upright and began to run. It wasn't fast, but he was moving.
He didn't dare look down at his arm. It was dangling uselessly by his side and, if the pain was anything to go by, then it was in really bad shape. It felt like white hot needles were stabbed into his bone whenever he so much as moved it an inch.
He cursed every single one of those monsters. He'd never felt such vivid hate before in his life. He'd given Mihael a peaceful end, all things considered. He regretted that.
Percy reached the tip of a hill, only to realize that it wasn't a hill at all.
The forest landscape was promptly cut off. He stood at the edge of a cliff, with nothing but black water far beneath him. In the distance, a whirlwind terrorized the open ocean. He could feel the wind tugging at his hair, stinging his eyes.
A terrible feeling of vertigo washed over him. He took a step back from the edge. What was he doing? This was a death sentence.
A distant bark accompanied by a yell brought him back to reality.
No, this was the only way. The water would heal him… that's what he thought at least. He'd jumped off the Arch when he was just twelve… this was nothing compared to that, right?
He swallowed the lump in his throat and sheathed his sword. He took a deep, shaky breath.
As he heard the bushes behind him rustle, Percy took a step, and jumped off the cliff.
For a moment he was weightless. The pain in his arm had evolved into a searing burn.
The black ocean swallowed him whole, leaving no trace of a demigod behind.