-Thrice the Charm-
Happy Birthday, Percy Jackson! A toast to our favorite demigod!
August 18, 2022.
Welcome to a new story of mine. Been planning a PJO x HP for ages. Graduated High School, no more exams in the near future, all the time in the world to write this out. It's been 5 long months since I last updated anything. Feels good to be back.
Really enjoyed reading the few Percy Jackson/ Fleur Delacour stories I found and I wanted more. I went like, screw it, I will do one myself.
Et voila.
Beta-ed by Adrien Zviguine.
Enjoy!
"The sky," Percy told the goddess. "Give it to me."
"No, boy," Artemis said. Her forehead was beaded with metallic sweat, like quicksilver.
"You don't know what you're asking. It will crush you!"
"Annabeth took it!"
"She barely survived. She had the spirit of a true huntress. You will not last so long."
"I'll die anyway," he added. "Give me the weight of the sky!"
Instead of waiting for her answer, he took out Riptide and slashed through her chains. Then he stepped next to her and braced himself on one knee—holding up his hands—and touched the cold, heavy clouds. For a moment, Artemis and Percy bore the weight together. It was the heaviest thing ever, as if he was being crushed under a thousand trucks. He wanted to black out from the pain, but Percy endured.
I can do this.
Then Artemis slipped out from under the burden, and he held it alone.
There was a wee gap before Percy felt the whole sky crashing down onto his back as he was forced down onto his knees.
His vision turned fuzzy. Everything was tinged with red. He caught glimpses of the battle, but he couldn't be sure if he was seeing clearly. There was Atlas in full battle armor, jabbing with his javelin, laughing insanely as he fought. Thalia and Luke went spear on sword, lightning still flashing around them. Thalia pressed Luke back with the aura of Aegis, the fearsome shield glinting in lightning.
A light drizzle started falling, the small raindrops almost a blessing for the son of Poseidon, the burning sensation in his arms lessening fractionally. Even if his body all but screamed for the pure torture to go away, his mind cleared enough to have coherent thoughts.
Percy's subconscious thoughts brought him back to the time when it was revealed to him that he was the child of the prophecy, the only child of the Big Three alive. The dread, the possibility of the survival of his entire world falling on his shoulders, it almost felt like he was going through it again. What was the age that a child of the Big Three was supposed to make that one decision again?
16.
What was Thalia's age again?
15. Turning 16 tomorrow.
Bile rose up his stomach as his eyes snapped wide open. His breathing became haggard as if he was punched in the gut.
ADHD like never before took over him. He was hyperaware of something snapping inside of him, an intense migraine hit him, and suddenly he was feeling the clouds overhead, his father's domain, calling out to him. He was painfully aware of the weight of the world on his shoulders, literally this time. He saw out of the corner of his eye Zoe being hit by Atlas and flying across the hilltop. He heard Artemis's howl of anger and saw her charging with renewed vigor. He saw Thalia, spear, and shield flashing as she fought with Luke, one that had Luke on the defensive. He forced his eyes shut.
Suddenly Percy wasn't the prophecy child. Thalia was.
Percy had seen it in her eyes, the temptation of sacrificing Bessie. As much as he had come to trust her to look after his back, she was still tempted by the power. What if she got tempted by power again? He couldn't let the fate of the world rest on a variable like this.
He suddenly felt helpless, desperation clawing at his throat. He couldn't let Thalia be at the receiving end of this prophecy but what else could he do?
He wanted to scream out his frustration, yet even opening his mouth would be a monumental task.
As he squirmed under the sky, what he never saw was his desperation giving way to something so ridiculous that even Kronos would be busting a laugh at the chances.
But that was the point right?
That is what he always did right?
Was it possible to complete a prophecy before its intended time?
Percy did not even know who he was trying to convince at this point.
He felt hollow, pain muddling his mind even as the drizzle turned into a downpour.
Whatever else his mind could cook up was stopped when he saw Artemis going for a feint.
Get ready, she spoke in his mind.
Atlas was suddenly coming down on top of him, having been thrown by Artemis. Realizing what would happen, he loosened his grip on the sky, and as Atlas slammed into Percy, he didn't try to hold on. He let himself be pushed out of the way. The weight of the sky dropped onto Atlas's back, almost smashing him flat until he managed to get to his knees, struggling to get out from under the crushing weight of the sky.
He could see nothing through the downpour. In the spur of the moment, Percy tried to stem the rain. It worked, the rain slowing to almost a standstill. But instantly a power drain so severe washed over him, that he almost blacked out. Still, he reveled in the fact that he had unlocked a power no child of Poseidon ever had.
Nausea hit him next, hard. Turning over Percy threw up whatever scarce lunch he had had. With much effort, he pushed himself to his feet, staggering as he unsurely took a few tentative steps. He looked up to see Luke staring back at him with disbelieving eyes.
Thalia, taking advantage of Luke's momentary shock, managed to push Luke off the cliff. A scream, from his right, drew Percy's attention.
"Luke!" Annabeth screamed.
Now conscious, she just ran towards the edge of the cliff where Luke fell, not even a glance thrown towards him.
Artemis had run towards where Zoe was the moment she was sure Atlas was trapped. Zoe was unconscious, blood trickling down her head. He wasn't sure how bad it was but atleast her chest was still rising and falling.
Good, Percy thought, I won't let anyone else die. Not till I am alive.
His focus shifted. His brain, high on ADHD, picked up on the rhythmic thumping that was slowly, steadily growing louder, essentially telling him that the monster army from Princess Andromeda was getting ever closer.
Percy trudged towards the edge of the cliff directly overlooking the cruise that had Kronos's sarcophagus in it. A light wind tousled his hair. He looked back one last time, to where Artemis was hysterically trying to heal her lieutenant, the most emotion he had ever seen her show. Then there was Annabeth, still hunched over at the other side of the hilltop, crying her eyes out for Luke.
But Thalia, she was looking right at him, her punk make-up ruined, tear stains full of mascara marked her cheeks. Her eyes, wide and shocked were fixed on him. Maybe his small smile of acceptance had tipped her off of what he was about to do. Or maybe it was because he was wobbling right at the edge of a cliff. He could not tell. It was too late to go back anyway.
He turned back around, facing the sea once again. The weight of Riptide in his right pocket, something he had come to trust, gave him all the reassurance he needed. A flash of lightning lit up the area in an eerie glow. He jumped.
He vaguely heard Thalia scream his name. Adrenaline pushed aside all the pain and fatigue as the rush of air roared in his ears. His heart beat fast as the water appeared closer and closer. To anyone else, this would classify as suicide, but the sea was Percy's domain, it answered his call. Rising up to meet his fall, it cushioned him, gently floating him to the sea floor.
He wasted no time. Percy shot off the floor, homing in towards where Princess Andromeda stood anchored, swimming faster than any swimmer could ever think of. Breaking the surface he observed the ship, looking for anyone who might have seen him.
Once he was sure, he made a column of water, climbing to the observation deck without making any sound. His hunch had been right. The ship was almost empty, all the members of the enemy having left the ship to join the march up the mountain. As stealthily as possible, he made his way into the control room.
To not give away their position, all the lights on the ship had been turned off. It was a stormy night too. This resulted in darkness so crushing that one couldn't even see 3 feet in front. The ship's stand-in captain, an empousa, had thought she had the easiest job of them all, making sure the ship didn't drift away through the night. She had all the time in the world to doze off and rest.
That was why she was surprised to hear the knock on her door. Even more so when chilling green eyes stared back at her from the open door. Last she heard was a shink before she knew no more.
The first thing Percy did was turn on the light. Golden dust covered the entry and most of Percy's t-shirt. He capped Riptide and looked over the controls. Just like when he sailed Queen Anne's Revenge, he somehow knew what everything meant. He turned on the engines and set it on a collision course with Mt. Tam.
Percy calculated the approximate time he had to finish the job. Even if the ship was quite close to land, it would still take about 5 minutes for the behemoth to actually turn around and 10 more for it to crash into the cliff face, and that was from the moment he withdrew the anchor.
Hitting the button to pull the anchor back up, Percy sprinted through the huge corridors of the ship. As he skidded to a halt in front of the pool where he was held captive last year, he learned how he had screwed up. Amidst all the adrenaline rush, he realized that he had no idea where Kronos's sarcophagus was.
Praying to the Fates, he just went with his gut feeling, running down corridors, trying to find the room which set off his demigod senses the most. He almost sighed in relief when he spotted three figures guarding a door. This had to be the room, there was no one else on the ship but they were protecting this room especially.
He stopped short when he realized who these three were.
Demigods. Traitors.
He had seen two of them before. They had been in camp when he first came. They were there with him near the arena when Luke was teaching him sword fighting. He had even sparred with them. He had never seen them again afterward. Now he knew why.
But the third one shocked him to the core.
Ethan Nakamura. This was a boy who had been as friendly as Luke. He had shared meals with him and traded stories. He had let Percy sleep in his place when he was in Hermes' cabin and couldn't find a place for his sleeping bag. He had been so optimistic, cheerful. He had been his friend.
Percy refused to believe what his eyes saw. But he had a mission to complete. And he forced down any attachments that might hinder his mission.
The ship's sudden movement had them on red alert. Three swords were out and all of them were in offensive stances, knowing that something was wrong. Running on limited time, Percy had to do something.
He called out to the sea and felt it respond to his call. He willed it to build up tension on one side and in one go he released it all on the ship's hull. Even as it continued on its path of collision, the giant cruiseliner lurched sideways. The three were almost thrown overboard, all stances forgotten as they clung on for dear life.
That was when Percy jumped in. Riptide glowed in the dark as he swung the blade like a baseball bat and hit one in the face with its flat side. Said person was hit with so much force, Percy felt his skull crack and he was quite literally thrown out into the sea.
Before Ethan and the other boy could regain their bearings, Percy struck again, and with lethal precision. The boy whose name he didn't know had taken a wild swing and regretted it instantly, Percy did not even use his sword. Using his left hand, he just grabbed his hand away and pulled. The guy's own momentum had him sailing forward, assisted by Percy's pull. Choosing not to kill him, Percy hit him in the temple with Riptide's hilt and watched as he crumpled to the ground.
Only when he felt a pang of pain and saw the tip of a celestial bronze blade poking out of his stomach did Percy realize the rookie mistake he had made. An almost certainly lethal mistake at that.
Agonizingly slowly, the sword was drawn back as Percy was left gasping for breath. Blood leaked from the wound in rivulets, dripping from the corner of his mouth. Turning around, he saw Ethan's buck-toothed smile, relishing Percy's pain.
No, not now, not when I am so close, Percy thought as he clenched Riptide in a death grip.
"You had your chance, Son of Poseidon. You could have joined our cause. Instead, you chose this. I pity, oh pet of the gods." Ethan threw his head back and laughed.
Percy's vision was turning dark. Tears fell down his cheek as he realized he would not be making it out alive. His mother, Annabeth, Grover, he apologized to them, somehow praying they would hear. No, he had to complete this. Or atleast die trying
Mustering all the energy he had left in his broken body, he staggered toward Ethan. Such was the intensity of his will and strength that even Ethan stopped laughing and uneasily took a stance. He made a swing, but Percy sidestepped.
"Just die alre—" Ethan's words were cut off, as was his sword. With one powerful strike, Riptide shattered the sword that was coming its way in a wild arc. Its wielder marched on as he closed in on Ethan. Before Ethan could even process anything, Percy had pierced Riptide right through his heart.
He had almost no time left, no time to lament the fact that he had killed someone, a human. Percy threw the door open and where the bed should have been was the sarcophagus. Blood dripping down his bloodied sword and his wound, he kept trudging forward. The ominous vibes from this sarcophagus had Percy seeing double.
"Son of Poseidon," the deep, ancient voice, one he had heard two years ago spoke from within the sarcophagus. "So what will be your choice? Will you die protecting these worthless dogs you call the Olympians? "
Percy was past the point of talking, he just kept advancing, one blood-stained step at a time. He did not know which his last breath would be. Sheer willpower was the only thing that had him going on.
"You. You can be a useful asset. They say I don't show mercy. Kronos continued. But this once, I will. Promise me allegiance, I will heal you and grant you my powers, as my champion."
Percy had reached his target, all he had to was destroy it. Somehow. His only shot was Riptide. It was not only a celestial bronze sword but it was magical, imbued with Zoe's own essence, a sentient being.
"Even if you kill me, you are just delaying the inevitable."
He gathered up one last breath in his damaged lungs. Holding Riptide in both hands in a reverse grip, he raised it above his head and with all his might plunged it into the sarcophagus.
The effect was immediate, Riptide, bless the magic in it, cut through like the sarcophagus was made out of paper mache. A geyser shot out from within. With a loud screech, it imploded on itself. The resultant boom though was much, much more destructive. The whole room blew apart. Percy was flung across, his back hitting the far wall and sliding down into a sitting position
Shrapnel littered his body. His hold over his body was slipping fast, refusing to follow any command. The pain of the stab wound and the burn of the blast all faded into a dull ache. Even as darkness started to creep into his vision, he needed this ship to be gone.
Percy prayed to his father, hoping that somehow being in the sea would grant him a mental connection, that somehow his last wish to speak to his father would be granted.
A small smile broke out on his face as he felt the presence of the sea in his mind. He closed his eyes to conserve whatever little life he had, hoping it would be enough to last him this conversation.
"Percy? I got some severe distress call from you. What is happening?"
He actually forgot to speak in his mind and tried to open his mouth. A sharp pain reminded him of his imminent demise.
"Dad, I need you to do one last thing for me"
"What? What is happening? Help is on its way. Tell me where you are"
Percy's heart warmed at the concern his father was showing. But sadly he was beyond help by this time.
"No, dad. You need to listen. I will die within a few minutes."
A few tears escaped. He won't be seeing his mother ever again. He won't be there to hug her tight, tell her over and over again that she was the best mother anyone could ask for.
"No! No no no. I am coming myself. I can save you. Apollo will be there to heal you. Ancient laws be—"
"DAD! Listen!"
No going back to Camp Half-Blood. No hanging out with Grover. No sparring with Clarrise. No more training with Chiron.
"The wound to my torso is lethal. I barely have a minute left."
He could almost feel his father's desperation, but Percy could do nothing, this was the truth.
"What can I do?" Poseidon asked in a subdued voice.
"Kronos is gone. I destroyed his sarcophagus, made sure whatever little presence he had gathered was scattered into nothingness."
But Percy was happy, he had no regrets. He had managed to do what he had intended to.
"What? How? You managed this? All by yours—"
"DAD"
"Sorry"
"I need you to destroy this ship."
"No, I can't. Your body…"
"You have to. There is no other way."
Percy felt him struggle for a minute. Of course this was hard for him but did he have any choice? Kronos was gone and now the ship had to too.
"I am so, so proud of you, my son. You, Perseus Jackson, are the one who rose above all, the greatest and most noble Olympus has ever seen. Your legend will live forever. Hero of Olympus, the entirety of Olympus shall cherish this chance you have given us. You were the finest among your siblings. I love you."
"Goodbye, dad. Tell mom I am sorry"
With that, the connection was cut. As a huge wave rose up to blow the ship to the kingdom come, Percy saw the last line of the prophecy completing itself.
And one shall perish by a parent's hand.
But a small smile was still etched onto his face. He had managed to save everyone. Even a thousand times over, he would die if it meant saving his loved ones. He had no regrets. He was a son of Poseidon and he would not have had it any other way.
As his chest fell, it did not rise back. Percy had breathed his last. The Hero of Olympus was dead. He was not alive to see the wave crash down on Princess Andromeda, smashing it into a million pieces, fulfilling his last wish.
Having expected to see Charon one last time, he was honestly quite surprised to see white nothingness when he came to. Maybe this was purgatory?
He pushed himself off the ground. Feeling himself all around he was confused even more when he realized he was solid, his Camp Half-Blood t-shirt and jeans still on his body, the ones he had died wearing, not a ghostly apparition he had seen back when he had entered Hades' domain.
A laugh of delight escaped Percy's mouth involuntarily when he felt the oh-so-familiar weight of Riptide in his right pocket. He took it out, admiring its pen form, before uncapping it. The three-foot-long xiphos extended out as elegantly as it had done the first time. Anaklusmos etched on the flat of his blade told him of the rather rich history it had endured.
Eventually, he uncapped it but kept it in his hands. He set out, his ADHD not letting him stay in one place. It felt like he was walking on clouds, his foot sinking into the surface as it would in a pillow.
The three old ladies he saw a few yards away almost had him retracing his steps.
But also he had nothing else to do, might as well talk to the only other beings he could find.
Apathy on their faces greeted him as he walked in front of them. They stood there in the same position for what felt like hours, the Morai studying him with expressionless faces and Percy looking back at them just as blankly.
A smirk found its way as one of them stepped forward.
"Ah, the hero of the moment. Would be quite rude if we don't introduce ourselves to you, no? After all, we know everything about you."
Percy could only nod. Annabeth had told him once who was who by the instruments in their hands. But like a lot of other things he did not bother to remember, this was one of them.
"Well, I am Clotho. It was I who chose your birth." She said. Pointing to the one on her right, she continued.
"This is Lachesis, the one who guided a lot of actions you did throughout your life" Lachesis gave a smirk eerily similar to her sister.
"And this is Atropos, the one whose job you ruined." An angry glare was all he got from her.
Percy was about to protest, say out loud that it was not intentional. But for once he bit his tongue and kept quiet. These were super powerful beings with control over absolutely every being that set foot on earth.
"Good thinking, youngling." Lachesis said.
And of course they could read his mind.
"You, young Perseus Jackson, are someone who has piqued our interests. The planning that had gone into commissioning the Great Prophecy, the centuries worth of planning, all gone with your one decision to take things into your own hand."
Percy was seriously alarmed, he had not thought of it like this. He had just wanted to save everyone, not make three divine beings with unlimited power angry at him.
"Never said we are angry, young man. Well, cannot say for Atropos. After all, you chose to die on your own terms rather than what Atropos had chosen for you."
He breathed out a deep sigh of relief.
"Then why am I here? Shouldn't I be judged in Erebos?"
Clotho actually smiled and for a moment Percy forgot this was one of the Fates, easily mistakable for a homely grandmother.
"I am flattered you think of me like that." Clotho's smile grew as Percy flushed red. "It's endearing to be thought of that way. Unlike how they portray us, we do have emotions."
"Ah, sister, one compliment and you are getting off track.." Atropos spoke for the first time since Percy got here.
"But of course. Simply put, what you pulled off got you our personal attention. We had your whole life planned, you fulfilling the prophecy at the right time, not dying to it, living a long fruitful life, and dying a natural death."
Before Lachesis could continue, Percy got whacked on the head with a cane. Atropos' cane to be exact.
"You little rascal. I planned a natural death for you, at the ripe old age of 82, surrounded by family. Something most demigods can only dream of. But no, you just had to go ahead and die a painful death."
Percy gulped at her outbreak. And were they actually showing concern?
"Why? You didn't think immortals like us could show normal emotions?" Clotho spoke up.
Ignoring her, Lachesis continued what she was saying.
"Perseus Jackson, your conviction to save everyone was so strong that you quite literally blew apart the mural depicting your planned life, the one we were sewing. For the last few moments of your life, you were controlling your own fate, without our interference."
She took out a tattered piece of sea-green mural and handed it to Percy.
"Many have tried to take control of a prophecy and all failed. All but one. You, young hero, with the pure intention of protecting your loved ones had the most interesting effect. You were the first one to change a prophecy on your own. It was as if the course of the universe itself wanted to witness the outcome rendering us powerless."
Percy was speechless, he had not put much thought into this.
Clotho came forward and continued.
"No being is impartial, even we, who were born with the purpose of being impartial. It's so long till one strays. You have convinced us to your cause."
Percy went slack-jawed. Enjoying his awe, all the Fates smiled. Clotho kept speaking.
"We have always put balance over everything else. But you have made us believe that a noble cause just might be superior. You might just have convinced us that preferring good over evil might be the key to an eternal balance."
"That is why we have a choice for you. A risk taken on our part, should you accept." Lachesis said.
Percy suddenly felt his tongue betraying him, his throat so parched that even gulping felt like torture.
"What choice?" He managed.
"The choice to save another world. A world quickly spiraling into a reign of darkness. A world similar to your own."
Percy immediately went full alert mode. He shrewdly considered it. There had to be some underlining motive. He had experienced it enough times to know that when an immortal tries to strike a deal there are always ulterior motives.
"What is the other choice?"
"One with quite a bright mind when it comes to critical decisions, I like it" Clotho laughed. "A hero's afterlife awaits you if you choose. A direct entry to the finest part of Elysium."
"And what if I choose the first option?"
"You get another chance to live life. You get to save more people. And you get to plan your own fate."
"Wait, what?"
"This is the risk we are willing to take young man. A variable in a planned world. You will be the one in control. We will not be controlling any aspect of your life or death. Every decision you make, every turn you take, will be all your choice."
Percy was very astonished. There had to be a twist right? Was he just in some world of make-believe?
"I assure you we are very real, young man. If you want to see it this way, you are an experiment. An experiment on our part. We want to see if a variable, someone who we have no control over manages to rescue a world falling into darkness."
Percy wanted to just refuse. He really intended to. An afterlife in Elysium was every hero's dream. But he also had the chance to save people, a chance to save an entire world. Growing up, his mother indoctrinated into him that if he could, he should always help others in whatever small or big way possible.
Because helping others no matter the circumstances is what makes a person a hero.
"Then, I choose to save people."
Percy just happened to be the greatest of them all.
Clotho and Lachesis had full smiles. Even Atropos was visibly pleased.
"Great. Now there are a few things you should know." Lachesis said seriously.
"This reality, your reality, it is all part of the multiverse, an infinite number of parallel universes really. We, the omnipotent Fates, have absolute control over all of them. Only our mother, Ananke, Destiny itself, supersedes us. Just this once, we plan to overlook this world. You must understand the gravity of the situation."
Clotho took over from her sister.
"You are a variable to us. We have no control over anything you do. We can influence everything around you and force you to make decisions but that would defeat the whole point of this… experiment, to put it that way. In short, it is totally up to you what happens to this world. We want to see how someone with a noble cause such as you makes a difference. I hope you won't make us regret this. Do you understand?"
Clotho's stern voice had Percy in full battle mode, serious expression in place of his usual laidback attitude.
"Yes ma'am."
Satisfied, she continued.
"Now listen, this new reality, it is a world full of magic. Much like your own existence as a demigod, the average person has no idea that such a magical society exists right under their noses. Men are wizards, women are witches, that is what they have called themselves for millennia, as ironic as it sounds. Wands are what they use to fight and cast.
But you are the farthest from average. You have divine blood running through your veins. You are divine. To them, you are magic itself. Not only do you have the potential for perhaps the most potent magic at your disposal, you still retain the full arsenal of your demigod powers. How you explain it to others is your responsibility. Though our suggestion would be to only disclose to the ones you trust absolutely or if it's inevitable. Got it till now?"
"Yes ma'am"
"This does not however indicate that you are at the pinnacle. This world has already seen wizards and witches so powerful and mighty that even the most powerful children of Hecate would be pebbles to them. Spells cast by their wands can be deadlier than your own Anaklusmos. This world, unfortunately, is on the verge of the abyss that is darkness.
Darkness itself is whom you face. An entity that is the root of the despair this world has and will face. A divine entity, on par with gods. One can achieve only so much with what they have. Time and again these people have fought back and pushed away this entity as much as possible. But time and again it returns, stronger than before.
We have given this world a chance. A chance to fight this evil on equal footing, and either win it all or lose it all. That chance, is you. You are their only hope of ending this once and for all."
Percy's legs gave away as he fell on his back. This was a lot to handle. The weight of the entire world on his shoulders. Again. And this time, there were no Fates to guide him. But no way could he snuff that last kindle of hope out, not when he could give them a fighting chance.
"I am in. I will save them all, no matter what."
Percy rose up, unsure of what came next. His heart was beating fast, throat dry, as he looked at them. A simple question came to his mind.
"What happens when I get there? Where will be? What about school?" He voiced his question. Through what felt like hours of conversation, this never occurred to him. What indeed would he do when he got there?
"We have it all planned, young man. It may perhaps be better if Lachesis explains, since it was her plan." Clotho said as Lachesis came beside her. Atropos had kept quiet all through this and she looked like she had no desire to speak either.
"You are someone who migrated to Europe to study at Hogwarts, under the patronage of House Montfort. The Lord and Lady, with no heir, had met you, an orphan, on their visit to New York and found your interest in magic. Having realized you would have no scope studying at the school of Magic in Boston, they decided to bring you with them to Europe.
Robert Montfort, Lord of the House and a board member of Hogwarts, manages to secure your admission at said institution as a fourth-year student, but only on the condition that you pass their third-year final examination.
Adrienne Montfort, Lady of the House, she tutors you in etiquettes, something you must learn, since the magical world values traditions a lot. And if you make it to Hogwarts, you will represent House Montfort"
Percy nodded along, listening with rapt attention, because any misstep could cause a massive issue.
"But how will I catch up with the three years of magical studies I am missing?" he asked, genuine confusion visible on his face.
"Like this" Lachesis stepped forward and bopped him on the head with her sewing needle
Information flooded into his brain. Things he had never learned in his life got imprinted into his mind. Even more spells, charms, runes, surrounded him in a swirling fashion. All at once, it was absorbed by him, through every pore in his body. He regretted having asked that question, his body wanting to curl into a hole and die.
Percy dry heaved, reeling from the shock of sensory overload, a headache so bad hammered at his head that he would much rather die than go through it. He suddenly knew who the Hogwarts four were, spells to make fire, make a shield, show the time, disarm the opponent. Charms to make things float, to ward off the cold or heat, to keep flowers from wilting. Runes even runes of the same caliber.
"You should not have difficulty in creating spells or remembering them either. After all, it is the reason you were dyslexic" Clotho's smirk was off, Percy could tell. He was, however, caught off guard with the last line.
"Wait. Were dyslexic?"
"Were you expecting a second whack for it to go away? And it would be rather counterproductive to send you to a world where reading and writing is of much importance with crippling dyslexia."
"And what was that with spells?" Percy asked instead, not really wanting another nausea-inducing whack.
"Why, spells are mostly Latin. Greek and Latin are the two languages hardwired into your brain since birth."
Looking at the even more confused look, Clotho decided to stop beating around the bush.
"What I meant to say is that you are both Greek and Roman. You are as much a son of Neptune as you are of Poseidon. Yes, just like Camp Half-Blood, Camp Jupiter exists for Roman demigods, not that it matters to you now. The Olympians have a Roman personality too. Your father somehow managed to manifest both forms when you were conceived, hence your unique situation."
Percy was too dumbstruck to even respond. A whole new group of demigods he never got to meet. It was all in the past now, there was no way he could go back. Best to just accept it and move forward.
"So where will I be again when I get there?"
"Montfort Chateaux, North-Western France, on the shore of The Channel. It will be two days after your supposed arrival from America. When you get there, it will be June of 1991, two months from your fourteenth birthday." Lachesis supplied.
Percy nodded not knowing what exactly to do, so much information having been stuffed into him that he almost had no room to breathe.
"Then rise, hero. Hold your head high and carry yourself with confidence." Clotho said.
"We favor you, demigod. Never forget that. I know you will make us proud. It is all your decision from the moment you enter the new world" Lachesis said.
"Don't die a painful death this time, boy. Second chances are hard to come by. One at life is quite literally impossible. Do not waste it" Atropos said.
Even as they said their goodbyes, Clotho seemed to pondering something. Seemingly having decided on it, she pulled Percy aside.
"Give me your hand." Percy wordlessly extended his left hand, palms up.
She put her wrinkled hand on top of his. A bright flash and sting of pain later, there was a small tattoo of a balancing scale on his palm.
"This, my boy, is a gift from me. It can only be used once, to summon me. If need be, you will know how to use it. Make good use of it."
Percy smiled, a troublemaker smile that he shared with his mother. His smile still in place as they returned to the other two.
"Goodbye, hero. Sacrifices are always welcome." Lachesis said with a smile. "Take care of this world that we could not."
Percy's world went dark immediately afterward.
When he came to, he felt like he was waking up from the type of dream that tends to make you feel like you fell from a height. His heart was racing. Was this just a bad dream?
He got his answer the moment he looked around. The big four-poster bed in which he had woken up was something he had only seen in movies depicting old times. The room itself was about thrice as large as the one back home and still bigger than his cabin at camp.
He gave the room a once over, expensive furniture filled the empty spaces. A large ornamental statue stood near the mahogany door, a statue of Venus of Milo. The wardrobe was enough to hold atleast a hundred pairs of clothes. The rug on the floor seemed like those expensive oriental carpets that millionaires owned. Even the set of two wooden chairs and a marble center table seemed something that would cost as much as his mom's Mazda.
Only when he finally sat up did he see the trunks in the corner of the room, from his supposed migration, that contained all the possessions that he owned in this new reality, except the blue pyjamas he was wearing. He just hoped the Fates had not forgotten something important.
Pushing the covers aside, Percy got down from his bed. Expensive bathroom slippers waiting for him. He also found something on the side table. Amidst the calendar, a jug of water, and a copper mug was a picture frame lying face down and a letter stuck between the frame and the table, its edge poking out.
He reached for the letter, softly sliding it out from within its entrapment. Ancient Greek greeted him as he opened the plain white envelope.
Perseus Jackson,
Here is something we felt you would like to keep close to you. A memory from the world you left behind.
~Moirai
Putting the letter beside the jug, he held up the framed picture. A picture of his mother. Sally Jackson stared back at him with multicolored eyes, her face devoid of any stress lines. wearing the troublemaker smile he had inherited from her. Carefully, he opened the stand and set it on the table, a picture he would cherish for however long he lived this time.
He wiped the few stray tears that had found its way down from his eyes and walked up to the giant mirror placed against the wall by the door to his balcony. The same reflection that had always looked back from the mirror at him was present once again. There was almost no noticeable difference signifying the six-month time travel he had done in terms of his age.
A sudden increase in weight in his right pocket resulted in a delighted grin as he continued to look in the mirror. With practiced precision, he took out his most trusted companion, the bronze pen glinting brightly in the sunlight that filtered in through the windows. Uncapping it gave him an irreplaceable sense of comfort as he saw Anaklusmos elegantly extend into the three-foot Xiphos that had essentially become a part of him.
"Percy, come down, it is time for breakfast!" An almost melodic voice called out to him from somewhere a floor below, heavy with a french accent. Adrienne Montfort, he somehow recognized.
He looked in the mirror one last time.
Untameable black hair, check.
Impossibly green eyes, check.
His angular face with high cheekbones, something his mom had told him he got from his father, check.
He took in a deep breath. He was ready. He would save more people. Even the Fates believed in him. It was time he began this new chapter.
"Coming!" Percy said. With a smile, he opened the door to his room and walked out.
Until he realized he had no idea where to go.
AUTHOR NOTE
Kill Percy on his birthday, check.
Leave a like, follow, and review if you like it.
~Klosekom
6700 words I think.