A/N: Trying out single-character perspectives like how Rick does in HoO or how Six of Crows is written where you can only hear the actual thoughts of the character whose chapter it is. I like to bounce around a lot, and I think this will help discipline my writing a little bit more. Hope it came out well, please review and let me know!
Chapter 9: Warriors Cross
Three Months Later
"Excited for this month's meeting?" Thalia quipped as she vaulted over a half-felled tree trunk.
"Why ask questions you know the answers to? Trust my feelings have not changed," Artemis replied from above.
It amazed Thalia how the goddess' voice was the only indication that she was even there. The duo flew through the forest at speeds mortals couldn't hope to replicate and, as good as Thalia had gotten at masking her footsteps on the ground, it seemed like Artemis was intangible while she bounded through the upper branches of the trees. But none of her admiration shone in her response.
"Trust isn't that easy to come by anymore."
She'd meant it as an offhanded joke, but Thalia winced at the unwittingly rough edge in her tone; maybe the demigod hadn't moved past it as well as she'd hoped. Artemis might as well have disappeared entirely, because the goddess didn't offer a response. As she slipped below a low branch, Thalia figured they'd run the rest of the way in silence.
Behind her, the demigod heard gaining, but heavier, footsteps. Thalia smirked as she quickened her nearly silent pace, widening the gap between her and the newest recruit to the Hunt. Piper had adjusted quickly to life with the hunters, and her drive had allowed the demigod to rapidly rise through the ranks in terms of her prowess. But she couldn't hope to contend with Thalia yet, and the daughter of Zeus playfully made sure she knew it by dusting ahead.
Tearing through the foliage, Thalia wondered if she'd still be in the Hunt if Piper hadn't joined when she had. After all, the daughter of Aphrodite was the only reason she and Artemis were friendly again, even if things weren't completely back to normal. Thalia had wanted nothing to do with Artemis after learning as much of the truth as she could from Reyna in San Juan. While the war was going on, that'd been easy; Artemis was confined on Delos with Apollo to avoid the burden of mind-splitting headaches. But once it'd ended, the Lieutenant had had to swipe through every attempt by the goddess to contact her.
That only changed following the awards ceremony, because Thalia had watched Artemis flash into camp with her hand on Piper's shoulder. The goddess found Thalia's eyes immediately, only offering an apologetic glance before gesturing to Piper and vanishing again. It had taken hours of explanation and an oath over the Styx before Thalia trusted that Piper's grief and story were genuine, instead of some further extensive plot by the Olympians.
It'd still taken a few days for her to speak to Artemis again. She'd learned the Goddess of the Hunt had abstained from the vote that ended up killing her friends, but being an unwilling participant didn't make Annabeth or Percy any less dead. It was the passing weeks, and then months, that showed Thalia that it wasn't reasonable to make Artemis pay for mistakes made by, and continuing to be made by, other gods. At the top of that list was Zeus.
Thalia couldn't believe that she was her father's daughter. The King of the Gods had become nearly delusional after the night of the awards ceremony. Leo and Athena's accounts of the demon and angel of prophecy they'd respectively seen had shaken him to his core. Thalia was glad that he hadn't heard Piper's recount of the white warrior's strength, or it may have sent him over the edge. Even with the river's oath, the demigod had a hard time believing what Piper had said. Thalia would have to see it with her own eyes, and she was unfortunately only slightly less certain than her father that the prophecy was already upon them. But the King of the Gods had been dead-set on the idea for months.
Zeus had transformed Olympus, both literally and figuratively, according to Artemis' monthly meetings there that had become a mandatory ordeal. The floating landmass that gods called home had become permanently primed for war. Catapults manned by cyclopes lined the flat roofs of the main city, always on a swivel, and a cycle of wind gods alongside an army of air spirits patrolled the skies every hour of the day. The streets had become almost silent, certainly dead after the initiated curfew, and the throne room doors were permanently closed.
Camp Jupiter had only fared better because of Reyna's unrelenting pushback as Praetor. With the camp chosen as the staging ground for all demigod operations regarding the "looming" war, Thalia had watched the Legion mobilize under the whim of the King of the Gods. She hadn't been back in over a month, but she remembered the newly erected forts and walls surrounding New Rome. She'd been there when the Legion had restructured the training grounds, the Principia, barracks, and every other building to be larger and closer to the city walls. It was only because of the Romans' loyalty to Reyna, and Frank's support, that Octavian hadn't been appointed as a despot puppet to enact Zeus' will.
City life went on somewhat normally for the Romans, besides the fact that the Greeks had become a permanent integration. It was the only real positive that'd come from Zeus' forced preparation for a new war; clever children of Athena and Hephaestus had commandeered the dead Labyrinth in a way that connected the two camps with a fifteen-minute commute. It'd taken them over a month to accurately construct the underground passage, but Thalia knew Annabeth would have had it straightened out in a week.
She found her thoughts drifting to her friends, both of them, often. It was especially inevitable whenever Artemis mentioned the factions forming within Olympus. The split was supposed to be 9-5 between the gods, exactly down the line with how they'd voted all those months ago. But Poseidon had left the council as he'd said he would, retreating to Atlantis and never appearing at the monthly meetings. Athena still hadn't returned to the firm, level-headed goddess that the Olympians knew. Seeing the seraph and realizing that her callous idea of sacrificing her daughter had been for nothing, the goddess had become touch-and-go. She appeared at the meetings but never said a word. And, still, nobody knew for sure what had happened to Dionysus.
Artemis had subtracted those three from the majority faction, leaving the split at an essentially even 6-5. That led to unavoidable tension at every turn, primarily spearheaded by Zeus' obsession with consolidating his power. Thalia cleared her mind of the strange politics that gripped Olympus as she bound through the tree line, exiting the forest. Before her, she found a pine tree at the top of a hill, whose image still gave her a barky taste in her mouth.
Artemis strode out beside her at the foot of Half-Blood Hill, dropping down from her moonlit perch at the edge of the Pine Barrens. Seconds later, Piper caught up to them, and the rest of the Hunt trailed in behind her. The group of girls slowly evened their breathing as they trudged up the hill and across camp borders.
"You know," Piper said through ragged breaths, "I'm gonna catch up to you one day, and you won't hear me coming."
The daughter of Aphrodite threw an arm around Thalia, who caught her hand hanging from her shoulder. Thalia tensed as she felt the demigod's slender fingers between her own, forgetting that she needed to focus on her breathing as well. Her heart sped, and the daughter of Zeus chalked it up to the lengthy run they'd just completed.
"You wish, Bigfoot," Thalia replied as a smile tugged at her lips.
She ventured a glance at Piper, who was rolling her eyes. Everyone in the Hunt had the blessing that allowed them to glow softly beneath moonlight, but Thalia didn't think it looked like that on anyone else. Even in a universe of gods, it seemed like unknown magic how she glowed. Thalia looked away before kaleidoscopic irises found tinted cheeks.
The duo caught up to the bulk of the huntresses in front of their cabin before Thalia reluctantly let go of her hand, and Piper's arm seemed to linger a moment. They snapped to attention when Artemis cleared her throat.
"I am heading to Olympus to report on our most recent hunt. Have a short rest here, and then head to Camp Jupiter through the Labyrinth. Following my meeting, I will meet you there."
The huntresses nodded in unison before Artemis vanished in a flash of silver. Thirty pairs of shoulders slumped as they shuffled into the goddess' cabin and fell onto beds or various furniture for their very well-deserved naps. Thalia snickered as Piper face planted onto a sofa and promptly fell asleep.
"Phoebe, can you check on everyone?"
The eldest huntress nodded to Thalia, half-smiling, "Yes, go have your secret little meeting."
Snorting as she walked away, Thalia pulled a golden drachma from her belt. She created a rainbow between her palms, a meteorological skill she'd been practicing, and threw the Greek coin through it when she was a good distance from the cabin.
"Hey, Iris. Show me Nico DiAngelo."
The mist shimmered as it shifted to frame the olive face of the son of Hades.
"Death Breath!"
Nico stumbled, taken aback, before a thin smile took shape across his tired features.
"Hey, Thalia, how was your trip?"
The daughter of Zeus' expression darkened.
"You were right. We scoured the entire eastern seaboard, and found zero monsters. Zero. Unless we've had the luckiest accident ever to happen, this is deliberate and something is coming."
Nico grimaced.
"Yeah, something definitely is. Mrs O'Leary won't respond to me anymore either. It's like someone called her one day, and then she never listened to me again. I've been talking to the Furies, and they're saying that monster activity in Tartarus has gotten more peaceful, which is impossible. Once I figure out a safe, or I guess safe in comparison, way to get down there and back, I'll check it out."
"Alright, but please be careful," Thalia asked, "And how are things on your end? Numbers looking good?"
"Yeah," Nico answered, his voice hard, "All of their old friends know everything you told me that came from Piper. They're all on board, and have given me lists of campers, both Greek and Roman, that they're basically certain would be willing to join us."
"Good. But we may have to wait until after whatever this is to keep all demigods out of unnecessary danger. What we're planning won't work if we have too many enemies on all sides," Thalia's eyes narrowed, "We're going to have to deal with this 'Eclipse' thing before inciting any rebellion against Olympus."
(Line Break)
Percy rolled backwards, narrowly dodging the taloned hand that threatened to shear his head from his shoulders, body armored or not. He caught his weight in his feet and bounded forward instantly, arcing his blade upward towards the monster's chin. His slash should have struck true, but Tartarus' speed was still almost unmatchable. The grinning primordial sidestepped the heavy blow and used the back of his hand to guide the blade further ahead, forcing Percy's momentum against him. The demigod stumbled forward before he froze in place, looking down to find a clawed finger protruding from his chestplate.
The demigod only winced, not offering the torturous deity the satisfaction of audible pain. Because of his armor, it was only a shallow wound; the metal had groaned and taken the brunt of the impact before losing its integrity. Without it, Percy knew the sharp digit would have exited his lower back.
Tilting his head up, Percy met Tartarus' sickening smile stretched across his purple skin. The eyes of Percy's wolf-head helm glowed bright red as he glared at the primordial with contempt. And, with the slightest of movements, Percy sliced off his finger using his black blade. Tartarus stumbled back, exhaling sharply through his teeth, and Percy watched his face shift into a mixture of true pain and glee. The demigod dislodged the claw from his stomach as Tartarus laughed from feet away.
"So, you're not insane or made rudimentary after all," he cackled, clutching the stump of his index, "I thought I may have sent you too far after these months, that your continued silence hinted towards a shattered mind. I am glad to see I was wrong."
Percy hated how Tartarus spoke. The monster had spent so much time alone that his entire verbiage seemed to be monologues. It made it easy for the demigod to remain silent, but it still enraged him to no end. Before Tartarus could continue, Percy rushed him with renewed vigor.
The primordial's eyes glimmered as if he'd expected it, and a sickle appeared in his uninjured hand. As Percy slashed his blade, he willed it to change as he shifted his weight. Riptide, or what it'd become, elongated into a staff that Percy stabbed forward. The blade itself lengthened slightly, cutting the distance to the primordial. Percy had rapidly become proficient with the glaive, and he'd begun transitioning effortlessly between the two weapon forms mid-fight.
Tartarus flipped his sickle and caught the edge of the blade as it was about to pierce his chest, eyeing the demigod excitedly. Sparks exploded as the orange veins in the glaive's black metal hungered for a victim. Percy pressed on before he slashed, returning the weapon to a sword.
His onslaught sped up, every slice finding air or the edge of an immovable sickle. Overpowering the primordial through raw strength felt as impossible as lifting up a mountain. But Percy was blinded by fury, a consequence of how long he'd spent in his hellhole, and he kept swinging, much to Tartarus' audible enjoyment.
"So restless," the deity crowed as he sliced a deep gash through Percy's greaves, "Still upset that you didn't get the chance to disobey me and kill that son of Jupiter months ago at the Acropolis?"
Percy grunted, heaving heavier slashes and stabs with both his sword and glaive, the closest he'd get to a formal dialogue with Tartarus. The primordial leaned beneath the glaive that stabbed at his face before he slipped into the demigod's guard. Closing his damaged hand, Tartarus released a shattering punch into Percy's chest and sent him flying back.
The demigod roughly buried his sword into the grey earth, catching his backwards momentum, and cleaved open a deep ravine.
"Be grateful, boy. I decidedly let you end a primordial instead. Gaea will not regain consciousness for millenia upon millenia; that's as close as it can get to killing a Protogenoi. Or at least the closest you can get."
Percy felt a sharp tug in his gut, and the earth beneath him shook. Something in the canyon before him bubbled as pressure mounted inside the demigod. He released it, and an explosion followed. A torrent of murky water and a cacophony of agonizing voices shot into the air, parting the red haze overhead.
The River Acheron crashed towards Tartarus as a mounting tide of pain and water. The monster raised an eyebrow before he vanished and another creature stood in his place. Oryx shrieked, an ear-splitting sound, as the searing river of misery consumed the hulking monster. Percy sheathed his sword before he brought his gloved hands together, closing the tributary into a ball around Oryx.
The monster writhed as the river that punished damned souls drowned it. Percy saw the silhouette of Oryx's mottled armor thrashing in the ball of mudded water, flailing in every direction as the creature fought to breathe. But the demigod didn't relent, crushing his hands together as he tightened the pressure of the ball of water. He quickly learned that was a mistake against such a large opponent.
Oryx's taloned arms ripped through the condensing liquid prison, finding free air before they clawed into the earth. The monster shifted upside down in the water, gripping the terrain, and tore itself out. Its armor had cracked under the artificial pressure Percy had created, and its skeletal frame underneath seemed broken. But Oryx's glowing sapphire eyes emblazoned only hate, shedding any pain it was in.
The massive creature charged Percy on all fours as a shriek emanated from its maw. It moved too fast for the demigod to pull the churning water towards him. He released his hold, dousing the grey earth with the voices of tortured souls, and unsheathed his blade. Percy slid beneath Oryx as the monster reached him. He sliced upwards, but only met open air.
Oryx launched high, avoiding the harrowing black blade, and landed behind the demigod. Just in time, Percy whirled around to block a clawed hand aimed at his throat. He kicked the monster in its abdomen and stumbled back as acid fell from its mouth. The liquid hissed as it singed the ground at his feet. Percy held out a hand while the monster straightened up, but the acid only slightly shifted.
He shrugged off the idea, rolling under another swipe of Oryx's talon. But the attack had come slower. Percy had overestimated the monster's stamina, or he'd underestimated the strength of the deadly river. Regardless, he pressed forward as the pain in his stomach and leg throbbed. Oryx shielded its body with raised vambraces, but they crumpled under Percy's onslaught. The demigod shifted his weapon to a glaive, stabbing through one of the forearm guards and piercing the monster's arm. Oryx shrieked as the black tip drove a hole through its sinewy arm. But it didn't have the chance to recover before Percy spun around, returning his weapon to a sword, and cleaved off the other arm at the elbow.
The monster released a rattling cry as its severed limb slapped to the earth and disintegrated. More sickening sizzling followed from Oryx's arm, presumably some effect of the hellish metal of the blade. Tartarus appeared behind his pet creature and grabbed it by the throat. It fell limp with one quick squeeze, and the sound silenced. Tartarus gave Percy a brief double clap as Oryx's body thudded against the ground.
"Don't worry about him; he'll be back. I did not want your, or my, blade biting at his soul until I eventually had to recreate him from nothing. But, well won, my champion. I did not expect such control over a river of mine. I believe you deserve a sort of reward."
Percy couldn't react before Tartarus raised his hand and a spike jutted from the earth behind him into the demigod's shoulder. He exhaled a ragged breath from inside his helm as he dropped his blade. The primordial flashed a gut-churning grin.
"Heal yourself with the river you call the Phlegethon, repair your armor, and then you may go to the Roman camp. Do whatever you would like there; I know for certain that is where the son of Jupiter is stationed."
The throbbing pain in Percy's shoulder all but silenced.
(Line Break)
Annabeth found Hemera so interesting. The demigod sat quietly alongside the primordial on a pristine white bench in the most gorgeous garden she'd ever seen. Just minutes ago, they'd been brutally sparring. More accurately, Annabeth had been using all of her will and wit to stay alive against the most ferocious opponent she'd ever faced. And now, that same adversary held her wounded arms softly as she brushed the abrasions away. Annabeth couldn't help but compare Hemera to the sun: a beacon that carried warmth and cultivated life, but still something that could raze anything before it. Her domain as the Primordial of Day felt very fitting.
"Do you regret saving them?"
Annabeth looked up at the primordial wide-eyed, brought out of her thoughts.
"What?"
"Your crewmates in Athens. They all would have likely died without you."
"Oh," Annabeth said before she paused, "No, I don't. Not out of forgiveness, but because they wouldn't have been even a fraction of a fraction of all of the people that would've gotten hurt otherwise. Innocent people can't die because of a grudge that has nothing to do with them."
Hemera smiled as she traced the demigod's upper back, and Annabeth shuddered as she felt her bruises there heal almost instantly.
"That's good. And how are you feeling? Hopefully not too banged up?" the primordial teased.
Annabeth chuckled.
"I'm doing alright, thank you. Training with both you and Aether has been great for me, but I wish I could say my sleep was better."
"Your dreams still plague you as badly?"
"'Plague' makes it sound all horrible. No, they just keep getting more intense. They're all still old memories of Percy, but they've started to become uncomfortably realistic. It's like he's actually there and just a little different. It's more off-putting than anything else," Annabeth finished offhandedly, not wanting to delve into the darker parts of her nightmares.
Hemera's expression shifted, and Annabeth had only a moment to grasp it. The primordial looked deep in thought, seemingly careful to mince her words. But she never got the chance to respond before Aether appeared in a frantic flash of light.
"Annabeth," he barked, "Camp Jupiter now."
The grave worry in his eyes warranted no discussion. The demigod bounded from her seat towards the armory.
(Line Break)
Jason paced along the ramparts of Fort Invictus as he looked down over the Twelfth Legion training below. Legionnaires sparred in the open grounds they'd leveled over the months for large-scale training. In the Principia, now twice as large, centurions argued over the construction that still had to be completed on the new barracks and weapons depots. It was the final piece of the rejuvenation of Camp Jupiter.
Fort Invictus, named after a title of Jupiter's, was Jason's personal project. Four new forts had been built, creating a cardinal square immediately surrounding the city of New Rome, and this was designated as Jason's to defend. It stood as the spearhead of Camp Jupiter, a lofty perch that stood above the majority of the renovated campgrounds and watched over the bridge that crossed the Little Tiber. Every afternoon, Jason paced it with chin held high as he observed the Legion's training and acted as overwatch. There was normally nothing to look out for.
Until the Little Tiber erupted. There was no buildup, no foreboding ripples or spills onto the banks, no slow rumble of the earth. A current ripped up from the center of the river, and the ground split apart. A thick torrent of black water thundered from the crack, the churning channel overwhelming the calm blue of the Little Tiber. The unending water crested into a tidal wave that tore through the bridge and crashed towards the bulk of the campground.
Jason brought down a bolt of lightning that lit a blazing fire in the corner bastion, sounding the alarm to the other three forts and the city behind him. Legionnaires within the fort mobilized as Jason took flight towards the rocketing tsunami. The wave's crest could've been easily twenty feet, not high enough to breach the fort but more than enough to drown out everyone below. The young god had no chance to get anyone out of the training grounds.
The black water crashed into the Principia, balking against the central villa, and washed across the nearest barracks. Jason heard wails and violent sobs erupt from across the camp. He paused in midair. Jason watched the huge wave disperse, moving of its own will, as it spread in rivulets through the rows of legionnaires running for cover between buildings and on as high ground as they could reach. As the black water washed over them, it ripped them to their knees and left them whimpering against the earth. The floating god was bewildered as the masses of steadfast Romans were reduced to blubbering children.
Jason's hair suddenly stood on end, and he instinctively whipped his head towards the banks of the broken Tiber. Black armor head to toe, intricate engravings, raised patterns, wolf helm with glowing red eyes. Exactly as Leo had described. The monster's red eyes were undoubtedly honed in on him, and Jason unsheathed his gladius. He thought he'd fly down to meet the warrior until it jumped.
The monster launched from the banks at impossible speeds wielding a black blade. Taken aback, Jason faltered as it reached him. He raised his gladius too late, glowing eyes just feet from his, and the god braced his core. But just moments before the blade would've broken skin, he felt a firm hand around his nape that launched him backwards. Jason spiraled as he was buffeted by white wings and deafened by a violent strike of metal on metal.
Righting himself, Jason's ears rang as he watched the form in black armor fall back to the earth. A warrior in white armor, matching Athena's exact depiction, turned its head towards the disoriented god.
"Evacuate the demigods to the fort!"
The voice warbled, indiscernible, but it was definitely feminine. Jason turned his attention to the demigods on their hands and knees and rocketed towards them as the mystery woman dive-bombed the monster waiting below. He reached the first demigod as sparks flew from behind him, undoubtedly the two warriors clashing.
The black water had ebbed, and Jason could hear the common words spoken by the surrounding demigods through the dim clamor. Echoes of 'sorry's and ailments of helplessness spilled in from every direction. Jason's head whipped back and forth between all of the demigods that had seemingly lost their wills, and he remembered the story of the River Cocytus that left the strongest of people exactly like that. He snapped towards the sounds of battle behind him.
A black glaive stabbed between crossed white daggers. No, a black sword slashed against a white one. The weapons shifted back. Jason watched wide-eyed as the warriors clashed, sparks screeching with every mutual blow. The weapons seemed to glow, the black with its malevolent orange veins and the white an almost bright silver. The earth shook from between them, and Jason lost his footing.
The warrior in white beat her wings, dashing forward, and landed a strong kick against the chest of the monster. A barrack collapsed as the monster crashed into its supports. Jason clamored back up when it stood and closed a fist, shearing a crack in the earth. The white warrior took flight as Jason ran towards the fort and called for reinforcements.
He flattened into the dirt from the impact behind him as the angelic warrior dove into the thing that Jason felt could very realistically be a demon. The dust settled, and Jason lifted his head to find the pair grappling in midair before they crashed in the Field of Mars. He realized his breathing was ragged, blood roaring in his ears, every instinct in his body screaming that he'd just barely escaped a slaughter.
"It's real. All of it was for nothing," he whispered to himself as medics ran down the hill towards him, and the sounds of the raging duel continued to reach his ears.
A/N: They meet! So excited to introduce some of the ideas that I have that could only happen after they interact. Just going to leave it at that, hope you enjoyed!
Djberneman: Even if you stomp harder, the only thing that will happen is that the bones in the foot break. The skin is invulnerable which means that even if the bones break, none will be able to pierce through the skin to get to the mortal point. Even if you dropped a piano on the person's foot, all that would happen is that the foot flattens like a cartoon. With the mortal spot where it is, the upper part of the foot would flatten and fold over the mortal spot and protect it from damage. While the mortal spot may be compressed, it wouldn't be fatal. There is a reason why Achilles was only killed by a sharpened arrow. It's because the mortal spot is not so weak that a mere punch to it would be fatal to someone. Also, I'm pretty sure that the mortal spot can only be used to kill someone if something pierces the skin there. I think that is implied within the curse.
Isn't that kind of cheating, though? I know the curse generally talks about how Achilles died because of the arrow guided by Apollo (and that it was possibly poisoned) but I think exclusively cutting feels like a bit of a cop-out. I always considered that blunt force trauma would also work; it'd just take a little more oomph to really really mess it up. But assuming only piercing works, you're absolutely right.
KryptonJoyWrites: Wow, dude...are you completing Nyx's unknown oath of breaking Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase?
Heh, I guess I am. It's another secret prophecy that I'd have to do it all myself. But honestly, I think they could come out alive on the other side. I hope so, at least.
BeastKing2589: I've read divergent path and I've gotta say, this story is almost as good. Great writing quality, but divergent path will always be better. Still excited to see where this story is going. It's kind of weird seeing Jason so power hungry and going down a dark path. He's always been the perfect moral compass, almost as good as Percy. And Percy killing Leo, that was just dark man. But this is really good and it's cool to see where this is going.
Thank you so, so much. I'm so glad you enjoyed Divergent Path; that story feels very special to me. That one will also always be my favorite, and I'm actively working on re-editing it and replacing chapters to make the story flow stylistically better. Just addressing that here because I also loved your review on Div Path. Jason is an interesting guy. I wasn't a huge fan of him in HoO because I thought he was fairly flat like Superman without the nuance of being a beacon of hope and everything. I hope I handle his character well in this story and flesh him out with some of the ideas that I'll develop in the coming chapters. As for Leo, I felt bad too, but sometimes we gotta do what we gotta do. I hope you continue to enjoy the story :)