An explosion of iridescent nebulae. A sea of neverending stars, and the darkness beyond them. And a core of green flames, concentrated to a sphere. The source of all existence. That was all he could see.

"You're finally here."

Valen turned around, coming face to face with…himself? It was a splitting image of him, the only thing differentiating them were its pitch black hair and eyes.

With a jolt, he realized what it was.

The last fragment of his soul stared up at him, "You took your sweet time."

Valen exhaled, how he did that in outer space he did not know, and stared back. "I was kinda busy with a quest."

"Ah yes, the Hera situation." he said, tilting his head. "Should have left her to rot."

"That would escalate things too quickly."

"Eh, we're going to have a war regardless, why not get rid of the troublesome ones when we have the chance?"

Valen narrowed his eyes, something was wrong. His norse-half had instantly merged with him once he had noticed him. But this part of his soul seemed to be in no hurry to merge. On top of that, his disturbing ideals were not something Valen would ever consider.

"Let's cut to the chase, you and I both know what I'm here for. So let's get on with it." he said.

"No."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me," his copy said. "Why don't you merge with me for a change? You know, sacrifice your individuality and give up your powers."

"I am the original, you are just a part of my soul."

"Are you?" he asked. "What if you are the copy and I am the original, hm?"

"I don't have time for this." Frustrated, Valen lunged forward, and tried to grab his counterpart.

He moved back, and wagged his finger like he was talking to a dog, "Uh-uh, not going to work."

"We have a war to fight, there is no time for these games!" Valen yelled at him.

"Exactly, you should let me absorb you already."

Valen stared at him for a moment, and summoned Stormguard in his hand. "If you won't listen to my words, you will listen to my blade."

His copy laughed, "We'll see about that,"

Valen charged at him, flying through the fabric of space effortlessly. His charge ended abruptly when his sword suddenly jerked away, pulling him with it. It was as if it had a mind of it's own.

"You never use our abilities to the fullest, do you?" his copy said, hand raised as he exerted his will at Stormguard.

Glaring at him, Valen sheathed his sword. Lightning coursed through his hand, to the tip of his fingers, and he pointed towards his copy. "Parry this!" he challenged as a bolt of pure lightning shot out of his hand.

His greek half jumped out of it's way and closed in on him faster than he had any right to. Grabbing Valens arm, he said. "I'll be taking this."

He tapped the bident-shaped tattoo on his forearm, and the shattered bident sprung to life. He jumped away when a pulse of electricity surged through Valen's arm.

The two circled each other, each waiting for the other to attack. Finally Valen's shadow grew impatient and lunged at him with Shadeslayer in his hand.

Valen let Stormguard materialize for a moment, striking at Shadeslayers shaft. But the sword passed through it unimpeded, the stygian iron fragments parting to let it through. The spear solidified again, slicing across Valens cheek.

Valen jumped back, he could feel warm blood flow through his wound, and down his neck. He touched his cheek, and felt a deep gash in it. Shadeslayers strike had almost pierced through to the inside of his mouth. And it wasn't a clean cut, Shadeslayers millions of fragments made for a serrated blade that did more damage than a plain one.

"I am the superior one, don't you see?" his shadow mocked. "Come on and give up already!"

Lightning arced from his fingers, cauterizing his wound and stopping the blood flow. Valen winced at the pain, and glared down at his opponent.

"A cut like that isn't nearly enough to make me give up."

His shadow sighed, "Oh well." Black flames engulfed the bident, "Death it is then."

A chill went down Valen's spine, he knew full well how dangerous those flames were, if he were to be alight with that infernal fire, nothing short of a miracle could save him.

I can take one, maybe two hits from it before my soul starts to burn. He thought, his nails digging into his palm, Erebus? You there?

"Calling on your benefactor?" his shadow asked. "He cannot interfere, no deity can. Do you not realize where we are?"

"The heart of civilization," Valen said, "the source of the gods' powers."

"Exactly," he snapped his fingers, "so you aren't completely dumb huh?"

"Why are you doing this?" Valen asked.

"Let me answer that by asking a question," he said, "What is the difference between a king and his horse?"

Valen blinked in surprise, he was not expecting that answer.

"I'm not talking about obvious stuff, like one's an animal and one's a person," he said, twirling the bident between his fingers. "Or one has two legs and one has four."

"Form, ability and power!" he exclaimed. "That's what's puzzling. If their form ability and power are exactly the same, why is it that one becomes, why is it that one becomes the king and leads them into battle, while the other becomes the horse and carries the king? So what's the characteristic that distinguishes these two beings?"

Valen narrowed his eyes, "What the hell do you mean?"

"There's only one answer! Instinct!" he yelled. "In fact, it forms the very essence of our being–Deep within our body lies the honed instinct to dominate and slaughter our enemies. We are myths, we are above mortals and demigods. But you, you don't have that. You're weak!"

"I don't know why the storm accepted you," he grabbed the shaft of Shadeslayer and pointed it at Valen, "but I refuse to play horse to a king who's weaker than me,"

He blurred out of Valens vision with an audible boom. A sudden pain blossomed in Valen's side. An all-consuming, madness infusing pain. He could feel his soul scream out in pain, and the smell of burning flesh made him nauseous.

His shadow tightened his grip on Shadeslayer. "If you aren't willing to assert your strength and retain the crown, then I'll kill you. And then, I will be king!"

Valen grabbed the flaming shaft of Shadeslayer, wincing as it began burning his hand, and pulled his shadow closer. He wrapped his free arm behind him.

"The fuck are you doing?" his shadow protested, struggling to break free. "You're bringing a whole new meaning to narcissism!"

Valen smiled in condescension, "Go to hell, imposter."

His shadows eyes widened, realizing what he was about to do, "Motherfu-"

And the dark blade of Stormguard was drenched in red as it pierced through both of their hearts in an instant.

.

.

.

"He's not here either," Theron said, sighing. Finding Valen was proving to be an impossible task.

They were in the Boston Public Garden, where they had first met Valen, and subsequently gone on their first quest.

"Maybe he's in one of the other realms you mentioned? Our father did mention him being beyond his reach." Bianca suggested.

"That's possible," Aricia said, "but how do we get to another realm?"

"The ducks," Theron said. "Remember? That's how he took us to the world tree last time."

"Ducks?" Bianca said incredulously.

"Yeah, but how are we supposed to come back here?" Aricia said, ignoring Bianca.

Theron shrugged, "We'll have to find a way ourselves."

She sighed, "Fine, we're out of leads anyway."

"Will anyone tell me what you mean by ducks?" Bianca asked, getting between them.

"It's best if we show you," Theron said. "It's…hard to explain."

"..." Bianca stared at the statue. She looked back at her companions, "Are you sure we're at the right place?"

"Yeah," Theron chuckled. "It's rather absurd for a gateway to other realms, isn't it?"

"That's an understatement," Aricia muttered.

"Well, when in doubt," Theron said, kneeling down beside the statue, "touch the ducks."

He let the magic flow out of him as his companions grabbed his shoulder. And that as when everything went horribly wrong.

Rainbow light exploded from the ducks, but instead of pulling them it, it pushed them away, as if it was repelling them. Theorn felt their hands leave his shoulders as he was sent through realms, cracking the veil between them for a moment as he passed form Midgard to Niflheim, then Svartalfheim, Helheim, and back to Midgard.

He lay at the ground, taking a moment to regain his bearings. He could see the dense canopy of a forest above him, and streaks of moonlight that streaked in. Groaning, he pushed himself up.

"Aricia, Bianca? You guys there?"

There was no response.

"Guys?" He turned around, but there was no one there. He was alone in a forest, in the middle of nowhere, and he had no way back.

"..." He stared at his surroundings, "Shit."

He sighed, and looked up at the moon, it had become a habit to look at it for guidance whenever he was lost. It helped calm his mind, and allowed him to think freely.

He frowned, the moon looked weird, and small. Too small. When he moved to the side, the moon stayed where it was. It wasn't supposed to be like that. The moon was supposed to be too far away for such a small distance to change its position. It was almost like…

The false moon pulsed, and Therons heart stopped for a moment. His joints locked up, and his muscles refused to move. His eyes remained focused on the whit blob in the sky, drinking in all it's glory. Without his command, his hand began moving, and he tried reaching for the sky.

He should have panicked when he began floating out of nowhere, but his mind was as calm as a flowing stream. A moment later, he was eye level with the sphere, and it pulsed with power. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, and a voice in his head told him to touch it, to let it consume him, to regain his lost glory.

And so he did.

Bianca di Angelo found herself back in the middle of thousands of souls. Featureless emotionless husks that trampled the grass on Asphodel. For a moment she thought she was back in her fathers domain, but the fields ended a few hundred metres around her, dissolving to nothingness. It was like an illusion, a false domain created to fool her.

"Bianca?"

She turned around, she knew that voice, it was one she had grown close to during her stay in her fathers castle.

The Goddess Melinoe stared back at her, equally as surprised. A moment later, she rushed forward to envelop her in a hug.

"Eh-" Bianca didn't have the time to respond as the air was pushed out of her lungs.

"I'm so sorry I couldn't visit you while you were sleeping." Melinoe said, loosening her hold.

Bianca relaxed, and awkwardly patted her back. Melinoe released her after a few minutes, staring at her, looking for any new wounds.

Finally she nodded, satisfied, then she asked, "What are you doing here?"

"I…" Bianca looked around. "Where is 'here'?"

Melinoe frowned, taking in her surroundings, "Weird, it looks like Asphodel, but…"

She picked up a stone, and threw it over the edge. As expected the stone dissolved as if hitting an invisible barrier.

"Looks like someone wants us to stay," she said, narrowing her eyes. "But why would anyone…"

A thought struck her, and she turned to look at Bianca, "Show me your arm."

"What?"

"Just do as I say, Bianca."

Confused, she extended her dominant arm. Melinoe grabbed it, and turned it around. A grim look plastered itself on her face.

There, on the underside of her arm, a symbol had started forming. Bianca could barely make out a snout.

"Bianca," Melinoe said, uncharacteristically serious, "What do you know of the phenomenon of hosting a goddess?"

Perses, the Titan of Destruction, stood at the edge of a cliff, and sighed. He adjusted his grip on his sword. It was unlike him to be so nervous, but he knew not what to say to his daughter.

He knew Kronos would have recruited her immediately if he gave away any hnts to her existence, so he was forced to remain out of her life. But with Kronos gone after his failed attempt at Olympus, he could meet his daughter for the first time.

But, he did not know how to approach her. The Titans were spiteful by nature, Kronos cut his father to pieces, for revenge. Iapetus, Hyperion, Krios, and Koios had helped him in that endeavor, which got them the world's four corners as a reward. His daughter–while half mortal– still had Titan blood in her. He did not know how she would react to his presence so far down her life.

For a while, he had thought to ask Rhea for assistance, but she had completely disappeared off the face of the earth. He searched far and wide, but never found her. For a moment he thought of turning to Hecate, but his daughter wasn't a great parent either. Truly, most of the deities weren't.

He sighed again, he had wasted enough time, and his daughter was sure to be arriving soon. He had felt it when the realms shook, and three demigods had been thrown out of them, and into the void. The fates had heavily intervened to keep them from dying a horrible death, and as such had transported Perses to the mountain in the middle of nowhere.

The distinct sound of glass shattering got his attention, and he turned back to come face to face with his daughter.

Perses stood there, his mouth open. It was like he was looking at her again. But he knew that couldn't be, his mortal lover died long ago, besides she was too young to be her. There was only one answer.

"Aricia Failith," he greeted, waiting for her to get back on her feet.

His daughter stared back at him, panting, "Who are you?"

"Aricia, I…" He stopped himself, he would not show weakness in front of his daughter. He breathed in deeply, and exhaled, "I am your father."