He was on the run for three days now. Barely any time to rest, living on the little food he could salvage. He shouldn't be using his powers to obtain the little things to survive, but hey, he was forced. The stomach needs to be filled somehow.
It was all his mother's fault.
No dignity, no pride, no care for the sacrifices her children made in her name.
Inconsiderate and thankless whore.
But Alabaster was different. He had dignity. He wouldn't fall at the gods' feet just because Percy Jackson took pity on them. He wouldn't take any pity from the Son of Poseidon who mercilessly killed his brothers and sisters in their strive for justice.
No. Alabaster would avenge them someday. He hadn't led them to their deaths in vain. To be forgiven by the very man that slaughtered them. Alabaster would never stoop so low and dishonour the memories of his fallen brethren like his mother did.
What will happen? That murderer would face the wrong end of Alabaster's blade and die the death he deserves.
No. He will not die. Death will be too easy for him. The son of Poseidon will probably achieve Elysium; being the "Saviour of Olympus".
Oh, no, he will not. Alabaster will find a way to torture that murderer till he can't stand it. Until he begs for Thanatos to claim him.
And it wouldn't end there. He would find a way to deprive that bastard the chance to achieve Elysium. Everything in his power to make this so-called "saviour" suffer. He did not deserve a good life and afterlife, when his fellow revolutionaries would be tortured just for daring to oppose the gods. That they weren't cowardly enough to side with the unjust rulers of Olympus.
They didn't deserve it. His siblings deserved to live; live as victors and see the beautiful new world they would create. And those that died should've been martyrs, spending afterlife in Elysium. But they wouldn't.
And it was all Jackson's fault.
Alabaster would make sure the sea spawn didn't find peace after death either.
And for this, the rogue had sworn to never set foot in Camp Half-Blood until he had his closure.
Before that, though, Alabaster would have to find a bit of space to plan ahead, and not have to worry about shelter and food for the time being.
Being a demigod wasn't easy. Monsters could trail your scent, and you never know where one might turn up. And as of now, he did not have the luxury of protection from them like he had as part of Kronos' army.
He'd had to fight off three hellhounds by now. Each on a different day, displacing him from two of the stations he had found ideal for resting and plotting. Without a proper place to rest, life was difficult.
Pah. Hardships happened. Demigods had to endure them on a regular basis, and Alabaster was no stranger.
But still, these monsters were a nuisance, when he could use the time dealing with them for research. Research on how to exact his revenge.
It was a quiet night.
Not tranquil. Alabaster's current state wouldn't allow him to experience any such thing for the time being. There was barely any peace in the mortal world for a demigod of his calibre, and none for a man with a goal like his.
The first step to spend the night was finding a safe place to sleep. Having been part of Kronos' army, any half-decent place would suffice. It had been too long since he'd felt a mattress underneath. He'd hoped that he would after the war, but the Fates just wouldn't let him.
Of course, they would. Just like they'd allowed the freedom fighters to lose. They'd rather side with the tyrants on the mountain than allow the world to change. As if the age of the gods was any better than whatever was coming.
Dirty, cunning bastards; the whole lot of these current rulers.
His mind begged him to return focus to his current objective. Musings wouldn't help him survive long. The anger should be reserved for when he would take action.
Alabaster took the time to survey one of the houses on the way. It was completely dark. Silent. The walls were in a state of disrepair; the paint wearing out and grime covering the remainder. Some bricks were exposed even to Alabaster's naked eyes in the moonlight.
A smile made its way to the skinny boy's purplish lips. It was the best place to take his chances for the moment. If anyone was actually inside, they'd have to deal with it.
The Mist was a wonderful tool. He'd have to thank his inconsiderate mother for the power she'd given him. Even if it came as a by-product of his birth, and not something she'd willingly gifted her son.
It all made sense to him now. Alabaster was just that. A by-product of an affair. He was also a useful tool when Hecate needed him to recover her pride. But not anything more.
Sure, maybe, she'd gifted him books to hone his skills. And also some charms to begin his training. And showed him some affection (coldly, he might add) during the war. But really, what else had she done for him? What had she actually done for Alabaster, her son? Or any of his other siblings, her children? Nothing. She'd let them rot and left their sacrifices in vain at the first chance she had.
Alabaster was just too blind to see that when the time was right. To blind to see it before he'd recruited his siblings and others to the futile war.
He shook it off. He was right about their cause, at the end of the day. So all that didn't matter.
The door was, like the walls, in disrepair. The wood was worn out, and he suspected it would creak loudly at the barest action.
Did it? Yes, it did. The creak was irritating, even if Alabaster had expected it. Still, he went inside, scanning his new residence.
The house was unsurprisingly dark. He pulled out a torch from his backpack. The limited beam of light helped him navigate through the abandoned house; though calling it an abandoned cabin would be more accurate. There was no furniture around, as if the owner decided to drag every single thing he owned with him.
Not that the demigod could blame him. With the state of the house, he guessed that the owner didn't have much to himself. A living room, with a bedroom and a bathroom.
And he couldn't complain either. An empty house meant no one was coming back, and he could stay in the spot for as long as he wanted.
It was perfect.
And it was time to set up. Alabaster pulled out an ovular object from his backpack. It had a metallic feel against his hand, a tau symbol emitting a dull, green glow in the centre.
He whispered something under his breath, a calm and monotone chant. The demigod closed his eyes as he felt himself go lighter by the second. It was a different experience, like part of his soul was leaving him - a feeling he was now numb to.
The charm he was holding glowed brighter, as if reacting to the chant.
It was one of his earliest lessons from his mo-Hecate: the Mist wasn't just a veil separating the mortal from the divine. It was an element of its own; one whose power was too difficult even for immortals to comprehend. Which is why there were very few even among the gods that could master its use.
And Alabaster was among the few beings adept at utilising its potential. He'd learnt how to manipulate the Mist, exceeding the abilities of all of his other siblings. He was the protégé of Hecate - the very best at magic in generations.
The fact was a point of pride for the demigod. His sole source of confidence and self-assurance in a world of death, depression and injustice. And he preferred it that way. There was no need for sunshine; not for the moment at least.
The charm in his hand heated up as he felt a tingling sensation down his spine.
A monster is close.
He placed the charm on the kitchen counter and pulled out his sword - a xiphos with a pure black hilt. Unlike a typical sword, it had a charm on its hilt. A red kappa. It wasn't glowing at the moment, courtesy of Alabaster not having the time or need to put in the energy. The Celestial Bronze alone had been enough for the past year.
The torch in his left hand faced the door. Nothing. Alabaster did a quick scan of the windows, just in case. Nothing suspect.
There was silence around. Not a single footstep, not a light rustle caused by the slightest disturbance.
The dark and silence were making Alabaster apprehensive. He preferred knowing. Seeing. And one beam of light didn't make the cut. In fact, it only served to reveal his position to any potential attacker.
The boy acted quickly. He shut all the remaining doors, which objected with a series of creaks.
With all the entrances closed, Alabaster pulled out another of his charms. Chanting some more, he switched off his torch. Unlike the other charms, this one didn't glow at all.
The entire house was engulfed in the darkness, aside from the kitchen counter on the other side of the room. The green light of his charm was brighter than ever. The eerie silence soon gave way to faint hisses, his brain failing to register the direction. He almost believed he was imagining it, because there was no way the monster was inside, right? The door was still closed, and few monsters could pass the walls.
But the hissing was obviously real. His tracking spell was accurate and could determine the presence of a monster in a large radius that could span an entire palace.
The grip on Alabaster's sword tightened, as he scanned the room once again. The hissing grew louder, giving him the feeling that his ears were ringing.
A faint creak could be heard from the main doorway. The hissing was clearer, coming straight from the open doorway.
He could hear, and even feel something sliding across the floor. A snake.
Before long a silhouette appeared from the corridor. A womanly figure that was followed by the slithering form of a snake below. She appeared to be in her early fifties, with a cold face and reptilian orange eyes trained on him that were clearly visible in the dark.
It was obvious the woman knew where Alabaster was, despite his masking spell as she took a glance towards him.
The monster slithered through the room to Alabaster's position. It regarded him deliberately, settling on his eyes. She stopped only two feet from him. Her figure was surrounded on the sides by the bright glow of his ever-functioning charm.
He was frozen in his place. The woman's eyes were incredibly hypnotic, staring straight into his soul and the demigod just couldn't look away. She didn't blink once during their stare-off. Alabaster didn't count how many times he had. Twice? Thrice? Much more than that.
The dark outline of a forked tongue made its way out from between her lips, accompanied by a sharp hiss.
Alabaster out of his trance. His grip tightened again and he swung his sword out of reflex.
The monster before him disintegrated to dust within seconds.
His mind reeled, the events not making any sense.
He felt chills all throughout his body and shivered. A bit too violently.
He shook it off. Time for some rest.
The day passed in a blur. Not much to do. Alabaster slept like a log on the floor in his sleeping bag. There was running water in the shower, and he used the opportunity to rid himself of the stench he'd carried for days. The lights were also functioning; a welcome revelation after his previous encounter.
But his mind was still plagued by questions.
The monster was still a mystery to him.
Who was the woman? And what did she want from me? She'd only come to stare at him. Monsters don't do that. They try to eat any demigod they see immediately, unless someone powerful forbids them from doing so.
There were only two possibilities here: Either a monster took in his scent and was hoping for a free meal. Or someone, most likely the Olympians, wanted him dead. It honestly wouldn't surprise him.
But neither added up.
The monster didn't make an obvious attempt to kill Alabaster, and instead just stood there.
The image of the monster, with the forked tongue, the haunting green outline and the powerful reptilian slits for eyes were all seared in his mind.
Who could it possibly be?
He ran through all the possible monsters in his head who fit the description. And he felt like a pile of bricks hit his head at the very first name he could think of.
Lamia. His half-sister by Hecate.
Could it really be?
And why? Did Hecate send her?
Alabaster felt a pang of betrayal at the thought.
Sure, he'd ostracised Hecate from his life. And Lamia was a monster first and foremost, someone he hadn't ever met before.
But still. This was his family. They shouldn't be searching for him and trying to kill him.
But at the same time, Lamia hadn't even attempted to strike him. He should give them the benefit of the doubt.
Or indeed forget them entirely.
Maybe it was just a random monster. Or even his imagination.
Gods, I'm going paranoid.
Night arrived and Alabaster was getting ready to sleep once more. He vowed to continue his research the next day, as he needed to recover fully.
The masking spell had broken his trust somewhat, but knowing who had come the previous night helped ease his worries. Lamia was a sorceress of sorts herself, being a child of Hecate and all. It was natural that a simple masking spell wasn't going to dissuade the monster from her prey. Or… whatever.
He switched off the lights, and it was dark.
Something is off, he mused as he couldn't shake the feeling.
He glanced around the house. The small charm was glowing green.
Another monster?
Maybe the masking spell wasn't working after all.
He switched the lights back on and grabbed hold of his sword again. Alabaster cursed his decision not to enhance the weapon. Precautions are necessary, and it was a mistake to ignore them out of laziness.
The door creaked open again, and with it the sound of hissing made its way to him. The demigod tensed slightly.
Impossible, right?
But indeed, the familiar figure of Lamia came slithering inside without a bother. Alabaster felt his knees wobble; a faint chill in the atmosphere. In the light he could make out the face. A woman in her forties. Not as old as she appeared to be in the dark of their last encounter. A hairband held her long and fiery auburn hair.
He composed himself, and pointed the weapon in his hand at the monster.
"Who are you, monster?" he asked in his best attempt to be intimidating.
The woman hissed, sounding distinctly like a chuckle.
"Do you not recognise me, brother?" she asked with a humorous spark in her eyes.
Alabaster's hold on the sword faltered. "Lamia," he croaked out. It was true then.
"Yes, Alabaster," she confirmed in a pleased tone, "it is I. Lamia. Your sister."
"No. You're no sister of mine," Alabaster replied with a quiver of his lips. "You're a monster."
Lamia tsked, a sound which felt a lot more natural through the hissing. "Making judgments, are we Alabaster?" she asked in a coy voice that was rich even through the hisses. "You forget that we share the same mother."
"I do not care if Hecate is your mother, monster," he snarled. "She is not mine."
Lamia's face shifted to a sympathetic one - fake and mocking to Alabaster's eyes. "I see how it is. Believe me, brother. I understand what it feels to be abandoned by your mother," she stopped slithering about to give a meaningful look, "abandoned by the gods."
Alabaster didn't know what to do or say. "What do you want?" he asked, twitching his sword to get the point across.
She let out a sharp cackle.
Giving him an amused look, she asked "What do I want? That is for me to know, brother." The nail of one of Lamia's long fingers touched her cheek thoughtfully. "But the real question is: What do you want? Do you have the answer to that?"
Alabaster grunted with aggression. "None of your business."
"A shame," she sounded truly disappointed. "You're being rude to your sibling. I thought we might be making progress-ss."
"I don't want any progress with you. Except with my blade." Alabaster assured with a hiss of his own.
Lamia shook her head patronisingly as she licked her lips. Her eyes shone with power.
The action awakened something in Alabaster.
He wildly slashed in her general direction.
Lamia didn't flinch or grimace as the sword ran through her. The deterioration was a peaceful one.
Alabaster collapsed on the ground, feeling completely drained.
How did she regenerate so quickly? And what is she doing here?
And what is happening to me? Am I really so weak right now?
This was not what he expected to be dealing with. He would get his answers soon.
This is the third iteration of this particular story. But I hope this time it is actually enjoyable. The original project - a ToA AU - was abandoned and I went with a simplified plot for A Maiden's Dilemma.
For now, Death and Magic is entirely Alabaster-centric and expands on Haley's Son of Magic. The basic concept behind the character always intrigued me and this interpretation will hopefully expand on him.
As always, please review. What you liked, what you didn't.