Summary: Perseus, first-born child of Poseidon and Amphitrite, God of the Stars and Constellations, of Navigation and of the Astral Plane. Patron of Heroes and Mentor to the Goddess Artemis. Sitting upon the ruling council of the Gods for thousands of years – and now facing the end of Olympus.
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New discord server created for Astraeus – A place for Q&A, as well as general discussion of the story and somewhere I will be posting upcoming dates that I plan to update. I will also post there if there is a delay in my schedule, as well as try to take time to speak to people who enjoy the story so far. If you're interested feel free to join, and if you can't be bothered, I'm cool with that too. I just feel that replying to reviews on this site is clunky and impossible to create a true conversation.
On with the new Chapter, enjoy!
Chapter Eight
The throne room of the Olympians had been the seat of power for the Greek Gods for thousands of years, ever since the fall of the Titans and the beginning of the Fifth Age that followed. It was the very first building raised by the Elder Cyclopes after the Titanomachy, and was the very heart of the Flame of the West. The Gods who presided there had inlaid so much of themselves into it that it became a part of them, and as it became a source of their strength, so too did it become one of their greatest weaknesses.
It was magnificent and grand, a temple of white marble etched with the purest gold, the floors a deep, dark blue stone. The gleaming bronze brazier of the Olympian Hearth blazed as the centerpiece of the room and surrounding it upon a raised dais were the twelve mighty thrones of the ruling Gods. Directly across from the entryway sat the pair of thrones belonging to Zeus and Hera, while those of Poseidon, Astraeus, Artemis, Hephaestus and Hermes lined the left side of the room from the door. To the right were those belonging to Demeter, Ares, Apollo, Athena and Aphrodite.
Debates and decisions carried out from such a storied room had long steered the direction of civilization – the rise and fall of nations and empires, and the destruction and renewal of mortal men among them. It was a sacred place that sat atop the very world, held aloft by the will of those who were masters of nature itself. Violence of any kind was disallowed, as damage to one of the thrones within could be a critical blow to the rule of the Olympians.
Within a matter of moments, and for the first time in history, it had become a veritable battleground.
The opening strike – delivered by Perseus and welcomed by Hades – was merely the beginning, and yet it was powerful enough to buckle the stone floors beneath their feet as a wave of raw energy tore across the room, the faded form of a long-dead child disappearing as Hades turned his full attention to the threat. The flame long kept burning by Hestia flickered so low as to be merely coals as they turned on one another. Demeter, Hera, and Aphrodite all vanished from the room rather than face the battle to come, all of them appearing distraught as their very seats of power were endangered by the powerful duo who'd decided to cross blades in their sacred place.
The pair of Gods met with a terrifying clash of strength and power, Tmima caught upon the gleaming black blade of Stygian Iron that Hades favored, and the dark weapon immediately tried to devour the starlight from its opponent with a deathly chill. Even as they met, high above the world a terrifying energy seemed to fall toward Olympus – and New York – with the speed of a meteor, and in return Perseus felt the King's energy which permeated the room cut in half as he was forced to divert his own attention to Draco – if he didn't, all of Olympus and the mortal world below would face the wrath of the stars.
It was the only move Perseus could make in an attempt to strike down his enemy before Zeus could involve himself. Physical fighting within the throne room – which would endanger all of them if it got too far out of hand – was expressly forbidden. One wrong move could see a throne destroyed, and while that wouldn't kill them, it would diminish their strength and leave them vulnerable until it could reform. At that moment both he and Hades were breaking several of the most long-held laws laid down by Zeus, and whatever the outcome, there would certainly be consequences. Neither of them cared.
They were too far gone in their rage and vengeance. It'd built from the moment they opposed one another over the daughter of Zeus and reached a crescendo with the involvement of their own children. Their enmity had finally come to a rolling boil as Perseus laid claim to all living children of the Gods, which at the moment included Nico and Bianca, and exploded as Hades exerted his will over those who were dead.
Deirdre was one of the daughters of Perseus born while they resided in Europe centuries before, and her fate was one of the most tragic of any of his children. She'd lived a hard life, and died an agonizing death, and she deserved a peaceful rest she'd never been allowed in life. Hades had known exactly how to twist the knife, exactly how to cross a line that Perseus would not stand for.
A shout of rage and anguish tore from him, and Perseus redoubled his assault. Twisting his own blade he deflected the dark blade downward to the left, and brought his sword back across in a sweeping strike filled with all of his fury aimed for the neck of Hades. He wasn't striking to defeat his enemy, but to kill. Let Hades rest with his own shit father in the Pit.
He was met with an explosion of darkness and terror that seemed to leap into the room, Hades at it's center, and it infuriated Perseus to realize his strike faltered enough for Hades to regain his guard and block. His uncle was staring at him with a cold rage, but it was clear to both who was more in control of themselves at the moment, and it only drove Perseus further in his own anger. He knew better than to lose himself to emotion in a fight, and yet he couldn't seem to control...Ares…
His distraction was just enough to give Hades a moment to counter, twisting his wrist and rotating the sword in his grip, allowing his leverage to shift enough so he could shove Perseus's blade aside and strike out with an armored fist to the jaw. The elder of the two followed through with the punch a little too far, bringing him closer to Perseus, and his own response was a knee to the abdomen that shoved his uncle back. Tmima swept upward, and then back down in an overhand strike meant for the top of Hades' helm, though he merely used the momentum from the knee to move even further back and out of range. A loud 'crack' echoed through the room as the blade once more buckled the blue stone of the floor, sending sharp shards in all direction.
And then the pair of them were separated. Hard.
Zeus and Poseidon crashed into them with the strength of twin locomotives, barreling them over as Poseidon met his brother and Zeus' fist came across the side of Perseus' head with a tremendous force that rattled the foundations of the temple.
"Boy!" the King roared, ignoring his two brothers momentarily as Perseus stumbled and barely managed to keep his feet beneath him. "Stop this foolishness now! You forget yourself if you believe you can pass your subjects through my realm so carelessly, and to have them fall upon my house as if you've been given the right…"
He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Zeus so angry. Perhaps when Porphyrion attempted to force himself on Hera and to make her his queen, or maybe when Theodosius proclaimed Rome to become a Christian state, forsaking Jupiter. It was difficult to tell how much of his anger was directed at Perseus, and how much was at his brother for breaking the most sacred oath. While it was true that Zeus likely feared Hades taking his throne to some small degree, it was also true that Hades' position in the Underworld was one of great trust and honor, and he'd broken that in an instant. It would not be forgotten.
Perseus shook himself briefly – once – and then reengaged. Zeus's energy was split defending against Draco's assault, and his current form had only a fraction of his strength. If he could just…
He was tackled from his left, this time by Ares, and his feet were swept by the shaft of Athena's spear. Grunting as his back and right shoulder struck the floor, also pinning his own weapon beneath him, Perseus yanked his left arm free of Ares' hold and began hammering his elbow into his younger cousin's spine with as much force as his current leverage could muster. Once, twice, and three times before Ares finally growled and rolled off him. This only freed Hephaestus to bring his massive war-hammer down on Perseus' stomach with a terrifying force, a spiderweb of cracks shooting out from beneath his back as the floor buckled a third time beneath the strength of the Gods.
A shout of rage and pain left him, and then he allowed his energy to explode from his body. It was similar to a bomb going off, an intense burst of light and heat catching both Ares and Hephaestus, while he noticed Athena ducked behind her shield, though her feet slid across the floor anyway. Zeus, slightly behind her, stared at the commotion unaffected.
His enemies were moved far enough for him to leap to his feet, though he was surrounded. Hephaestus was nearly growling, having taken the worst of the blast and was smoking and blackened, though it didn't seem to have affected him much. Ares, meanwhile, was glaring with fury as his skin was red and blistered on the left side of his body where he'd been laying too close to Perseus on the floor.
Perseus grunted, cutting his eyes toward the God of Craftsman briefly, making a false charge only to pivot and swing his blade at the eldest son of Zeus with enough force to split him in half. Ares blocked his strike, a plain sword appearing in his grip firmly, and yet Perseus allowed his energy to flow through the blade and Ares was swallowed in a wave of intense light with a roar of fury and pain.
He was forced to dodge Athena's spear immediately, and nearly faltered as she suddenly shrunk to the size of a normal human, his movement ineffective due to her now standing closer in height to his thigh. Her spear found it's home in his muscle, a spray of golden ichor drawing first blood, and he breathed outward explosively as his back was struck again by Hephaestus' hammer, though he managed to stay upright. He stumbled forward, spear tearing free from his leg, and Zeus was still there glaring at him.
Across the room, he saw Artemis and Apollo darting around Hades as the shadows attempted to catch them, glowing arrows flying freely while Poseidon went toe to toe with his elder brother. Hermes, meanwhile, was waiting behind Hades for an opportunity to strike, his caduceus in one hand and a gleaming sliver sword in the other.
This wasn't a fight either he or Hades could win, he knew immediately, but he didn't need to win against them all. He just needed a single, clear strike against Hades and he would accept his own consequences. The oath Hades spat upon was one that demanded no less than his head in repayment.
Knowing this, Perseus snarled as his foot lashed out into Hephaestus' lame knee, drawing a shout of pain, and then Perseus sprung forward quickly. The sight of Aegis that met him didn't even make him slow, let alone falter, and he brought Tmima around to meet it. Athena's strength lay in strategy and skill, not raw power, and she was swept aside in a wash of divine energy expelled from the blade. Perseus stopped his forward momentum and spun in the opposite direction, dodging the downward strike from the sword of Ares and rotating to the War God's back. A pulse of light and heat exploded from within him once more, smashing into Ares as well as the recovering Hephaestus and launching them away from him.
"Astraeus…" Zeus warned lowly, hand clenched around a bronze cylinder. He was all that stood between Perseus and the other fight across the room. A spark of energy, and then lightning crackled as the bronze tube flashed into a nearly twenty foot javelin made of raw electricity. The bright blue eyes of Zeus fizzled with the same light. "Do not test me. You are perilously close to treason."
"Treason?" Perseus snapped. "Is it not treasonous to forsake our oaths and turn upon those who die in the name of Olympus?"
"Hades will be dealt with," Zeus thundered. "Do not make the same mistake. Cross blades with me, and seal your fate at your own peril."
The rage driven by the pain of his daughter's defilement rushed through Perseus once more, and in response he allowed Draco to echo with that fury high above. Zeus was keeping him in check else he would've long since fallen upon the summit of Olympus with fire and wrath. "He dies for this!" Perseus shouted.
Zeus winced, a brief, nearly unnoticeable expression as he was forced to counter the power of the stars. The constellations were mighty indeed, and perhaps none so much as the dragon. Perseus had never called him to Earth, not even in the old days for the cleansing. Draco was purely for defense of his own realm, a companion and a guardian who often rested curled around the North Star Polaris that served as a focal point for Navigation.
The others were recovering quickly, Athena approaching from his left with a blackened shield and Ares from the right, still smoking from his assault and eyes flaring with bloody flames. Hephaestus was behind him, and he turned his head ever so slightly to see him in his peripheral. He was surrounded and outmatched, and yet his own emotions still demanded validation. Retribution.
There was an explosion, then, from the other side of the room as Hades and Poseidon stopped holding back and met with a massive clash of energy. Chains made of water began encasing Hades ruthlessly, and in return darkness exploded from him to reach every corner of the room – the small amount of light given by the low-burning hearth all that remained to see by. Hermes was on the ground, golden ichor splattered nearby, but appeared to be relatively alright if not fully healthy.
"I've had enough!" Hades could be heard roaring. He wasn't defeated, not even close, and Perseus felt his rage reach a new height at the sound of his uncle's voice.
'Hell with this,' he thought to himself bitterly.
In a rash and mostly foolish move that took place in an instant, Perseus summoned all of his energy and assumed his divine form, though he didn't allow himself to dissipate like he would if he were leaving. His flesh was vaporized and replaced by raw energy, his blade becoming a shining beacon of light that was physically painful to look upon and the darkness banished instantly from the room. What could generously be called his 'head' was now tall enough to brush the ceiling so very high above, and immediately all eyes snapped to his form.
Perseus had a single moment to act, and he brought his blade of light screaming down for the bound form of Hades, the glimpse of actual fear in those dark eyes a victory in itself. While he couldn't equal the raw strength of the Big Three, and in an open war he would be hard-pressed to match Hades, in this situation he could most certainly cut him down in the space of a heartbeat.
And then the blade halted as a fiery orange energy appeared before it, the divine form of Hestia surging to life to protect her brother from complete annihilation. It was warm and bright and loving, and her energy surged through the room in a gentle pulse, attempting to banish the strife that had consumed their entire family.
To continue his plan to strike down Hades would mean cutting through Hestia first, and while he may be able to do so, he would never choose to. She'd raised him and mothered him in a time when he was born on the very precipice of war, when every single moment felt like someone bigger and stronger had their boot pressed against the back of his neck. They would return from battle, often times disheartened and injured, and she would be there to meet them, a shining soul in the sea of darkness beneath the reign of the Titans. She was in many ways the very heart of Olympus, and he could never raise a hand to her.
He withdrew, unwilling to harm her even for the sake of his long-dead daughter, and before he realized what was happening, there was a flash of blue light and pain like he'd never felt before. It was followed by a thunderous, booming sound he hadn't heard for a very, very long time – the sound of the Master Bolt at close range.
His awareness dimmed to an unfocused dizziness, though he was still upright, and then the booming sound came again, and with it the flash and the pain. He dropped like a stone, his form uniting back into a body as he slumped to the ground. Sound was muffled and he couldn't move. His limbs felt like they'd been seared to the bone, his flesh burned and his armor broken. His gamble had failed, he dimly realized, and he'd exposed himself too early or perhaps too late. Either way, his strength was leaving him rapidly.
"...eal with him, Athena." he heard, though it sounded as if spoken through water. There was another thunderous boom that popped his ears and caused a ringing sensation, and following it the agonized roar of Hades. The sound of rushing water, and of rattling chains, and then two more massive booms of thunder.
The world seemed to darken far too fast for his comfort.
Dawn rose the next morning over Camp Half-Blood the same as it ever had, and yet there was a tension to the place that Thalia hadn't ever felt before. The unnatural happenings of the night before were fresh in everyone's mind, and she figured she wasn't the only one who'd stayed awake until the end of what they all assumed to be a divine battle of some kind.
Whatever was happening had reached a fever-pitch, the storm over the sea becoming more terrible as the wind howled and screamed, the waves surging ashore as if trying to consume the earth itself. The clouds had remained in the form of a man, battling it out with what appeared to be a large group of falling stars, and darkness had descended to become an almost physical thing as it crept across the world like liquid shadow, thicker and denser than she'd ever seen before.
It had ended suddenly, a wave of despair seeming to fall from the heavens as the stars appeared to lose most of their light. The overly-thick darkness retreated soon after, though it did so far less rapidly than the starlight. The fury of both Zeus and Poseidon seemed to be all that remained, and even the normally-immune area of Camp Half-Blood wasn't spared a heavy downpour of rain and wind strong enough to rattle the cabins.
It lasted well into the night, and when they all finally awoke it was over. The sun shone brightly, the world gleamed as the leftover puddles and dampness that covered everything glistened beneath Apollo's morning light, and yet in spite of the beauty of a world freshened by the storm, the camp itself felt a little hollow.
The campers were slow to arrive at breakfast, dragging their feet and sharing quiet conversation about the night before, and Chiron's normal toast of 'to the Gods' felt subdued. It was clear that everyone was worried, though it was difficult to pinpoint the origin of the unease. Chiron likely knew more than the rest of them, but he didn't appear to be prepared to share his knowledge with them.
Her largest clue was when the centaur quietly summoned Mark and Lee to his side after they were finished eating, the table for Cabin 1 just close enough for her to hear Chiron tell them to gather two groups and begin running sweeps around the perimeter of camp. She caught the words 'Exposed' and 'Barrier', though she didn't know quite what to make of it. She remembered that a barrier surrounded Camp Half-Blood which kept monsters away, and if he meant that the barrier was weakened or gone, Thalia was pretty sure 'exposed' was a very apt description.
It set her teeth on edge.
The barrier was created by Hecate, according to Perseus, and was powered by his own strength. If it were weakened or gone, it meant the same for the God she'd become rather close to, and apparently at the hands of her father. There was a bitter resentment at that thought just itching to spread, and she tried her best to ignore it. Perseus had become...important to her, somehow.
They'd been working together in her personal training for just over a week, and he never seemed too busy to take time for her. He always answered her questions, even if he poked fun at her, and he'd saved her life alongside those of her closest friends. Zeus, by comparison, hadn't lifted a finger in her direction for good or ill as far as she knew since she'd been born. The thought of her father doing something against Perseus made her stomach churn with anxiety and a little bit of anger.
Perseus looked out for the demigods, and in turn he had their unwavering loyalty, hers included. He watched over them and protected them however he was able, and understanding a little more deeply about the ancient laws that bound him gave her a higher appreciation of his help when he offered it. While there was some small amount of resentment sprinkled through camp as it pertained to Olympus as a whole, none she'd heard had included Perseus in that category.
Their generation wasn't the first he'd watched over, and from the stories she heard, Thalia allowed herself to banish the suspicions she had about him in the beginning. Maybe he was playing favorites, and maybe he was manipulating her to a degree, but he was genuine in his care for half-bloods and had never been said to bring misfortune on them unless they'd earned it fully. Many of the kids seemed to view him as something of a distant father-figure, and while Thalia wasn't quite to that point yet, she could see it.
As he helped her the day before with attempting to manipulate the Mist – something she hadn't quite got the hang of yet – she remembered wishing he was her father.
He was always patient and kind to her, and he had that look in his eye as if her progress was actually making him proud. He'd promised more direct instruction in whatever interested her, and even told her to start thinking of where she'd like to spend her first day of 'parole' that should be coming up in the next few weeks. Every session so far had left her looking forward to the next one, and the thought of something happening to him...it hurt a little, though she'd take that thought with her to the grave if asked.
"Thals! You ready for Archery?" called Luke, and she allowed her dazed thoughts to fall to the back of her mind, though she couldn't help one final glance at the sky where her father and Perseus appeared to have clashed hours before.
"Yeah…." she muttered.
Perseus awoke to pain and tightness in his chest, as if the skin were pulling, as well as a deep ache throughout his body which caused every muscle to throb and twitch. His head was pounding as if it may actually explode, his sword arm heavy and weak, and his ears were tingling as if they were damaged but healing slowly. He couldn't ever remember feeling so very debilitated, as if his energy had been siphoned from him directly.
Hushed voices muttered around him, both of them he recognized as the twins Artemis and Apollo.
High above he felt the watchful presence of his most faithful guardian, Draco, resting so very close to the edge between his territory and the sky belonging to Zeus. The dragon was laid out and sprawling, he knew, covering as much of the sky as possible as he kept a tense vigil. A single thought would be all that was required to summon him forth. He was none the worse for wear after his bout with Zeus – something that could not be said for Perseus himself.
He'd never felt the power of Zeus' weapon first-hand, though he'd seen it plenty. It was, he could admit, an experience he would never purposefully repeat. Perseus had been struck by lightning before by the demigod children of his King, most recently by Thalia during training, and while it usually stung a little it was otherwise easily handled. The Master Bolt, however, was something different altogether. He hadn't even seen it coming, focused as he was on Hestia. It hurt, a lot.
From memory, which was a little hazy but mostly alright, he thought he may have been hit twice. It was difficult to tell exactly, as he'd heard more strikes but couldn't remember the pain to accompany them.
He should've known better than to attempt to fight in his divine form, anyway. It wasn't commonly done for a reason. To do so allowed him full access to his Godly strength, but left him mostly defenseless. A body could be used to block and parry attacks, to dodge and move more freely. The divine form was, in essence, their full self laid bare. No defenses aside from their energy itself. Also, while a body could be killed and thus send them to Tartarus where they would slowly reform, the death of the divine form meant that they would fade altogether.
For this reason, immortals almost exclusively fought in a mortal form and refused to expose themselves in battle to the possibility of destruction. Should they be cut down in battle, almost none of them would ascend their flesh in that moment. Better to risk Tartarus for potentially hundreds or thousands of years than die completely.
It was also a driving force in staying his hand. Had he cut through Hestia, especially with the power of Tmima, she would've certainly faded in that moment. He couldn't do it, and was bitter that his actions caused her to risk her own existence in a bid to stop the fight. She abhorred violence, especially among her family, and that she was willing to risk true death to avert it only spoke to her devotion toward love and peace.
All of this made it very apparent that assuming his divine form had been a mistake, and had likely cost him the fight. Zeus struck at an opportune moment when he could achieve the most damage and end the fight swiftly, and Perseus had allowed that weakness in a hail-mary attempt to strike down his enemy. A novice mistake, and one that could've cost him his life had his uncle been willing to take it. Perseus had watched on as the King sheared mountains in two with a single strike from the Master Bolt, and knew that he was only alive at Zeus' mercy.
Still, while not inflamed as it had been before, Perseus felt his anger simmering beneath the surface in his mind. The line Hades crossed demanded justice be served, and he was furious he hadn't been quick enough to get the job done. There was a time when he loved and respected his uncle, looked up to him even. Hades had stood against the enemies of Olympus as a bulwark of strength and iron will that could not be moved for so very long. Even as something of an outcast, his loyalty had never wavered. Yet now the image of him brought a sense of disgust and hatred that colored his every thought.
Deirdre hadn't deserved to be dragged into their feud, and unfortunately her name had been something of a prophecy given by her mother Fiadh when she was born. The name was of Gaelic origin meaning 'sorrowful one' and it was how she said she'd felt upon learning that Perseus wouldn't be allowed to stay with them or raise his daughter. Deirdre's life had certainly been that, as she'd held a scent that attracted monsters far too frequently and in great number. She was nearly always injured and hunted, and died before she reached ten years. She hadn't made it to Camp in time, and he wasn't allowed to help her until she did.
He watched her die with a breaking heart upon the shore of the Irish Sea, surrounded by enemies and without the strength to face them. Only once she was dead had he been allowed to step in and smite those who hurt her in her final moments. He collected her body and had to return it to her mother, explaining how he'd stood aside and watched her be killed.
For Hades to disturb her rest was the most unforgivable action he'd ever performed, and Perseus still fully intended to take his life for it. He hadn't been successful in his first attempt, true, but he wasn't dead and that meant he'd only have to try harder. Deirdre's memory deserved that much, and he owed her more than he could ever repay. She'd been the most innocent and beautiful girl, very smart and joyful and her association with him had caused her nothing but misery and death. Fiadh hated him for it, and he hadn't blamed her.
"You know we can tell you're awake, right?" asked Apollo.
"Fuck off," he responded, his own mood still sour. He refused to open his eyes at the moment. He knew he was in bed, knew he was in his palace on Olympus, and that nobody but himself and the twins were present. He didn't really need to know more than that. He trusted them with his life, and he wasn't in any state to do much else anyway.
"Yeah, no can do," Apollo said, his voice somewhat strained from his normal up-beat attitude. "Supposed to keep an eye on you, make sure you don't die in your sleep or something."
"Which was an actual possibility until two days ago," said Artemis, and he knew her well enough to hear the frown in her voice. "Boys are so stupid, a fact which you seem to feel the need to prove endlessly."
"Hmm," he responded, unconcerned and eyes still closed. "Are you my wardens as well?"
"Uh, no…?" Apollo muttered questioningly. "To be perfectly honest, dude...you don't really need a warden right now, even if the old man wanted to give you one. You aren't gonna be causing any trouble for anyone at the moment."
Ah, so the weakness he felt was obvious to everyone else as well. The damage must have been extensive, then. Perhaps Zeus held back less than he originally thought. Either that or he underestimated the weakness of his divine form to any type of attack. He'd never allowed himself to be in that form in battle before, so he couldn't be certain.
"You've been losing energy at a rapid rate for days, and it just finally stopped and started moving in the other direction again. It was...close." said Artemis, attempting to sound indifferent. He knew better, and he also knew that she would have been perhaps the most affected by his death – permanent or otherwise.
Apollo made a noise of agreement. "It was close, for sure. Right now I don't think you could fight off a mildly energetic house cat, to say nothing of causing trouble on Olympus."
He was wrong. Mostly. Perseus could definitely cause some trouble still, though it would be brief and likely mean his own death. Draco waited still, as did his other Guardians, and while he couldn't empower them with his own strength, they were plenty powerful enough on their own. They would come at his call.
"What's with the chain, then?" he asked, turning his thoughts away from his vengeance for the moment. The cold manacle of either bronze or gold encircled his left wrist, and he had no doubt it was enchanted to keep him under control.
"Just a precaution," Artemis answered. "In case you were still feral and refused to listen to reason. Your body won't handle the strain of another fight so soon, so we needed a way to keep you from starting one if that was your inclination."
"I wasn't feral," he growled in response. "I was justified in my actions, and should have been allowed to execute the bastard."
"Hey man, you'll find no argument here," said Apollo. "My kids...well, I have a lot of them, but that doesn't mean I can't care for every one of them. What he did wasn't right, and he's gonna face the Council for it. Dad's….he's damn livid, and mostly at Hades."
Perseus nearly chuckled, in spite of his current situation or perhaps because of it. "Feels like he's got plenty of that anger for me, too. S'pose he's got enough to go around though, right?"
"You challenged him," said Artemis as if she were talking to a particularly slow child. "You know the consequences for that. He told you to stand down and you tried to keep going anyway. Not only that, but you did so while breaking the rules about fighting in the throne room, and while also assaulting both the sky and Olympus in an attempt to occupy him enough to get your way. And then, as if that weren't enough – which I assure you, it was – you then assumed your true form and endangered all of our thrones in a selfish need to hurt someone who hurt you. He was never going to take it well. Just count yourself lucky that you never actually raised your blade to him. We certainly wouldn't be talking if you had."
She was right, but it didn't change his feelings on the matter, or even his decision that he'd kill Hades for his transgression. Often times when the Gods threatened war it wasn't truly to the death. It was to get a concession from the losing party, or to humiliate them, or perhaps to just flex one's own power over the other. This would be different, and Tmima would taste the blood of Hades in the end. The God of the Dead would get to experience his own nature first hand.
Perseus was, however, smart enough to keep his mouth shut about it.
Still, there was another issue. "Atlanta," he said, finally opening his eyes and looking at Artemis. "Any sign?"
"Nothing," she responded, frowning. "Either they're caught in the trap or they're having some other issue, but it's been seven days since they entered the Casino and nothing."
That wasn't a good sign, though it did tell him he'd been out of commission for four days total. The fight had happened on the third day after the children entered the Casino, he recalled. "I want them back in a safe position before the council meets to decide anything. If I'm to be punished for my own actions then fine, but in that case Atlanta needs to be back with the Hunt and the others safe in camp."
"I gotcha," Apollo agreed. "Believe it or not, we're on your side in all this."
"Either way, if Hades has the opportunity he'll attempt to use her against me. She needs to be safe. Go in disguise, help her however you can. I'll be fine here." he said. Apollo looked him over once from his place leaning against the far wall, and then nodded and vanished. Artemis stayed, however.
"Hades will pay for what he's done," she whispered after a moment, her gaze focused on his with an intense expression. "It was cruel and heartless, and it was a betrayal of his own position. All of us have loved ones in the Underworld, be they children or hunters, lovers or dear friends of old. They should be safe and know an eternity of peace, and never should they be used in a despicable manner. All of Olympus will unite in this, you can be certain."
Perseus said nothing in response. His own pain and anger and torment were still so very close to the surface that he might explode if he actually began to talk about it. He still couldn't see Hades' angle in all this. What was the purpose of breaking his oath so blatantly in front of the entire ruling Council? What was it he hoped to gain?
"Hades…?" he questioned, and he noticed her hesitation.
"He...he escaped, after Father turned on him and the rest of us tried to chain him. He slipped into the darkness and he was gone," she said finally. "As far as we can tell he's returned to the Underworld, though that isn't much comfort. He was injured in the fight, but it's difficult to say how badly. Father struck him at least once while Poseidon had him restrained. Even now he's likely attempting to turn this to his advantage."
Perseus allowed a bitter laugh to rumble through his chest. So he'd face the full force of Zeus' wrath alone, and with Hades not there to shoulder his side of the blame, Zeus would use that time to make Perseus his sole focus. By the time he'd worked out his anger on the younger God, Zeus was far more likely to be lenient on Hades when he finally got around to him. Perseus was in for another crushing blow, it seemed. The hits just kept coming.
"The chain," he said lowly. "Release me."
Artemis shook her head negatively, though the gesture was small and hesitant. "You're in no state to move anywhere. You need nectar and ambrosia now that your awake. You almost…"
Perseus looked at her closely, seeing the shining eyes and the tense expression. She was upset. She'd been crying and looked as if she may do so again. Artemis was tough, but she'd led a mostly sheltered life. Zeus had never allowed her to face any type of real danger, and Perseus adopted a similar role for her. Always he'd stood as a bulwark between her and anything that may threaten her. Even after thousands of years he spent every night watching over her from above, his Guardians as protective of her as they were their own master.
Artemis was the very nearest thing he had to a truly immortal daughter, and he'd watched over her and guided her even thousands of years before Atlanta was born. He'd taught her how to hunt and how to navigate the world by the light of the stars before the current race of mortal men even walked the earth. Many of his Guardians were originally beasts they'd hunted together in the old days before she'd formed the Hunt, and he'd displayed his paternal pride in her by immortalizing them in the stars forever. He wished she were his daughter, instead of Zeus', but he'd never had children with a Goddess and he couldn't claim her as his own in spite of his King.
As she grew and began her own duties, as she formed her group of maidens to share in her Hunt, he'd withdrawn slowly from her side and become more of a friend than a father. It was difficult, and he'd felt bitter, but his presence would only hold her back from living in her own way and he had to allow her room to grow – even if she'd chosen to never grow up fully.
As was always the way with his children, he'd been forced to watch them from high above and remove himself from their immediate daily life.
"My penance for this...you should avoid the Council chambers for the day when it's decided," he said quietly. "It's not likely to be something you need to see. Zeus won't show me mercy in this."
She choked slightly, and he saw the tears she held back attempting to fall. "He has to. I'll make him see reason. Ares was influencing the room to instigate war, and Hades crossed a line that cannot be forgiven. You need someone there to speak for you. You won't face this alone."
"Don't," Perseus said gently. "If you try to sway him and fail, you'll only feel guilty for it. Instead allow me to face my own consequences as I should. I broke the laws and I'll pay the price for it. Just….don't come that day. Instead, if you would do something for me, watch over Atlanta when she escapes the Lotus Eaters. Travel ahead of her and clear the way for her safe return. And when she makes it back to New York, take her and the Hunt somewhere safe so that Hades cannot reach her."
"Don't be stupid," she snapped, anger coloring her tone even as a single tear finally traced it's way across her cheek. "I….ever since you returned to Olympus after your brief attempt to be mortal, I barely recognize you anymore. This constant need to pull yourself away and hold yourself alone as if you aren't one of us has to stop. You've earned your right to sit upon your throne, more so than many of us, and Father's greatest issue with you is the fact that you barely act as if you belong on Olympus anymore. He looks at you like he doesn't even know who you are sometimes, as does your own father. You aren't a mortal man, stop acting as if you are! We all thought you found yourself once more in Rome, but it was so brief that it may as well have not happened at all."
He tried to speak, but she cut him off. "You aren't some hero, destined to hold the weight of the world on your shoulders alone. You aren't some tragic figure that's meant to be a martyr for your beliefs. You wear your heart upon your sleeve and allow your emotions to control you, and you push all of us away! Thousands of years of this, and Father is becoming weary of it. He'll remove you from the Council if you keep this up, and he won't face as much opposition this time. You aren't Perseus, you're Astraeus, and you need to remember that before it's too late!"
"It wasn't Perseus who raised me and taught me, and it wasn't Perseus who defended Olympus from enemies that would crush her. Perseus was a man who had none of your memories and none of your love for Olympus. He was a man, not a God, and I wish you'd never made such a foolish decision or that Father had allowed it in the first place. You did it when you were angry and hurting, and it was a mistake!"
The child-like Goddess left in a tower of fury, golden energy exploding as she assumed her divine form.
Perseus remained chained by his left arm, his ears ringing after her tirade and his eyes aching after seeing her energy so brightly while his own remained low and weakened. Her words echoed within his ears and not for the first time, though she'd never expressed herself so….vigorously about the issue before. It hadn't been made a secret that the others hadn't liked the man who returned to them after his brief human life.
Poseidon barely spoke to him these days, and Zeus often took any opportunity to attempt to put him in his place. Athena….she'd hardly done more than glance at him since they left Greece behind. And so he'd taken to spending nearly all of his time away from Olympus except for Council meetings. He'd submerged himself more fully in the mortal world and in the demigod camp, and had mostly retreated from the divine.
When he wasn't in the mortal world he was in the distant reaches of the Astral Plane, so far removed from everything else that he may as well be alone in the universe. As he withdrew from them, so too did the other immortals withdraw from him. It'd been a very long time since he felt like he was an Olympian rather than Director for Camp Half-Blood, or an unreachable presence out among the stars. The mortal sons and daughters of the Gods had become his companions in place of their parents, and he allowed the joy and laughter of children to enrich his life in place of companionship on more equal footing.
It didn't matter either way, now. Zeus would see to his punishment, swift and merciless, and he'd face it still hoping for an opportunity to strike back at Hades for his broken honor. If he survived either of those things, maybe he'd attempt to see the changes that seemed to alienate everyone around him. Changes that apparently left those he cared about in tears and wishing he were someone else entirely.
Closing his eyes once more, he could do literally nothing else. Once captured a God's strength was useless to them, and he could only feel his realm in the peripheral. He couldn't exert any real influence on the world, and couldn't splinter himself like normal to travel anywhere else. He was trapped until someone released him. He may as well rest up for the confrontations that were to come. With Zeus, with Hades and with whomever had decided to usurp his realm.
Author's Note: Chapter 8 finished, and the outcome of the first battle looks fairly bleak. This almost catches us up to the Quest in the timeline, as Apollo is off to release the demigods from the Lotus Eaters and we'll soon arrive at the confrontation Atlanta is faced with regarding Krios.
As for the battle itself, I wanted to go all-out but realized as well that doing so would endanger the thrones in a similar way to when Kronos attacked Olympus in TLO. As for the other Gods fighting Perseus, they aren't so much siding against him as defending their own throne and following the laws of Zeus regarding the sanctity of the throne room.
The divine form thing always confused me a little, as they are supposedly at their maximum strength in that form, and I needed a reason why they would fight in a mortal body at all. Thus, I turned the strength they gain in that form into a major weakness as well. Otherwise why would an immortal that's losing a fight not just transform and flee – I made it so that if they do, they open themselves up to the possibility of actual death.
Hestia saving Hades feels like it's in character for her – she just wants her family to stop fighting. Hades, meanwhile, is crafty enough to escape a situation that isn't in his favor. This leaves Perseus, who was struck down by Zeus, to face the fallout. In the meantime the demigods of Camp Half-Blood are left to deal with their patron being unable to protect them fully. Draco is waiting in the wings, as it were, and this is where Atlanta sees him just resting atop the sky when she leaves the Casino.
I apologize if it feels a little disjointed, but I needed to explain what happened in the eight days that the demigods were inside the Casino, and how things had deteriorated so far in so short a time.
On another note, as I said in the beginning of the chapter, I've started a new discord server for this fic.
discord. gg/Z7udeJpDBt (Remove Space)
Feel free to join it and ask questions in the Q&A channel, or chat in the general channel. There is also an Updates channel that I will try to post when I believe updates are coming. This isn't always going to be exact, but it may give people an idea of when to expect a chapter to drop. I will try to answer questions and talk about the story within reason, though I won't be giving away spoilers. If you ask a question I may not reply until the afternoon on work days, and will be more active on Sunday-Mondays.
Thanks for reading, and I would appreciate reviews even if they are only a single word. The view count isn't working so I can't tell how much the story is gaining traction with readers and how much engagement it's getting. Also, some people use a high number of reviews as a criteria for choosing a story, so there is that – more reviews may mean more exposure.
Thank you all for your continued support, and Happy Holidays however you celebrate them. Stay tuned for the next one!