"I'll be gone." Percy said as he continued to pack.
"How long?" Calypso asked as sat on his bed, folding clothing absently and tucking them tightly into the navy blue duffel he had.
"However long it takes." Was his simple response, he instinctually checked the blade for any blemish on the stygian iron. He had found it at his doorstop, when he had slept in camp, the first time since after the Second Titanomachy in fact. The note attached was a thankful one, from the Lord of the Underworld, for avenging his son.
Even if it had been at the price of dozens of demigods and legacies.
At first it was unwieldy, feeling like an overweight steel bat rather than any forged sword.
But in the few times he had used it since his recovery, it had diminished.
Nearly all swords felt odd and uncomfortable. Like they didn't belong in his hands like Riptide once did.
This one didn't feel like particularly anything. Just cold and uncaring steel. He supposed that it fit in an odd sort of way. He sheathed the blade set it beside the duffel, shaking himself from that thought. He did a mental checklist of everything he had and needed and then nodded to himself after he was sure that he had everything.
"That isn't an answer."
"It is to me."
"Percy." Calypso stood in front of him.
There was a pause. "There's only so many patrols I can do before I go crazy." He explained, his face blank. "I have to be out there fighting."
"You can send others. You deserve a break."
He didn't disagree but he also didn't agree. Staying here in the mind-numbingly peaceful camp didn't sit well with him. Peace was good, it was the goal after all, especially after his stint in Tartarus. He had fought and sacrificed for it. But it was that same peace that unnerved him so. What was he going to do after it truly set in? "I don't trust them to do the job right. If I go, It'll get done the way I want it done."
"You are going with the Hunters." It was more of a statement rather than a question.
"What's left of them." Percy said. "They'll be recruiting while we root the monsters out."
"And Lady Artemis does not mind?"
"She's the one that asked me." Percy pointed out. "Lady Artemis will also be recruiting and while she's away, I'll be acting as…" He paused as he considered the word.
"A guardian? A protector?" Calypso ventured.
A humorless bark of laughter escaped the Son of Poseidon as he slung his duffel and donned his armor minus his helm. "Nothing so noble. The Hunters don't need one. She and I see it more as insurance until this campaign is over. With their numbers so low and Lady Artemis doing her own thing, they won't have any stopping power on their side. That's where I come in."
Calypso hummed her displeasure.
There was, of course, a whole plethora of reasons as to why he was joining the Hunters and not striking out on his own, most of which were not any of her business and were implied or inferred from the exchanges between the Olympians and their commanders.
The primary reason was to satisfy the politics of Olympus. Despite Reyna's resignation from the Praetorship, she was still a figure of importance among the Romans as much as they detested her. Keeping Percy and Reyna together would present a united Olympian front between both Roman and Greek and also show that the two sides would remain allies and not simply try to ignore each other. This was at Queen Hera's insistence in spite of the protests that it was unnecessary by the wider Council. Most reasoning fell into that side of things.
Another reason was that the Olympians don't want just any half-blood traipsing around the Mediterranean, specifically the homelands of both the Romans and Greeks. Ancient dangers lurked, slumbered and hunted there. Only the best and most trusted would be allowed in and out of Italy and Greece.
Even then, they would be heavily monitored, would need to constantly be reporting their findings and progress, and need to work fast. It wouldn't do to dwell and linger in either of those two countries. The Olympians were explicit, the rest of the campaign could take years and they were fine with it. If Percy and the Hunt took longer than expected, the operation in Italy and Greece would be scrapped.
And then Percy's own reasons for going to those countries. Specifically, Greece. There were times during the Battle of Greece that he was unable to recover the bodies of the Questors, mostly because it presented too much of a risk and danger to do so.
Percy was under no illusion that their mortal forms were long for this world, and had since decomposed and desecrated to the point that locating them and recovering their remains would be impossible.
But their arms and armor? Those were sacred and held their memories and intent within them, with them, they would be remembered. Percy may not have spoken much to them. May not have even liked a few of them. But he wouldn't allow such relics to go unaccounted for and misused.
That was mostly the reason he was going and the reason he had originally petitioned the Olympians for sanction to go into the country.
If the Olympians had their way, the whole effort would have avoided both Italy and Greece entirely.
But again, Hera had granted him his request. Why? He didn't know. Percy had his own reservations that this was simply another ploy of the Queen of Olympus, but didn't see how any attempts at winning him over would succeed.
Percy didn't like her, nor dislike her, but he would be dumb not to take advantage of the situation.
"Just don't die." She mumbled.
"I don't plan to." Was his parting response as he grabbed and shouldered his supplies and left the cabin, the stygian iron xiphos at his hip and adorned in his armor, now repaired and nearly as good as new.
Reyna stood among the crowd that was gathered in the center of the camp, garbed in her new hunter regalia including a gleaming silver tiara, even the cloak of starlight across her back. Percy would have thought that her mother would have attempted to abscond with it after the snub towards Rome.
Percy looked about the crowd was, as expected large almost overwhelming in fact. Legionnaires, fully armed and armored, while arrayed in formation of their respective cohorts stood idling talking with each other. The Roman officers were easily marked out, their armor more custom and personal. Many of the centurions were clustered around each other, their horizontal horse-hair plumes making them stand out among the rank-and-file. A fully functioning late-Imperial Roman Legion, not seen since the days of the Empire.
The new Praetors were also there, atop horses alongside a squadron of bodyguard cavalry. The two men were conversing with each other, sometimes glancing to Reyna where she stood.
Despite the sudden change of leadership, the Romans were not found wanting. The transition was near-seamless. While Percy hadn't heard of a vote taking place, the two had taken to their new roles easily.
The Greeks were a more raucous in their organization, but they were organized. Phalanxes of armored hoplites were clustered about, while lines waned at the dinner pavilions, for provisions and supplies distributed by younger demigods, legacies, satyrs and dryads. Even there, there were a couple of Roman officers waiting for their turn as well.
The noise… a flash and suddenly he found himself on desolate fields once again. Around him, there were hundreds of hoisted tents, demigods lingered around, armored and armed. Roman and Greek around pits of fire, dirty faces and not a smile among them. Screams of the wounded and anguished echoed around the camp. Grey clouds hung over head in steep overcast that stretched without end. The air smelled of blood and smoke.
He blinked.
He blinked.
And blinked again, as he found himself back in the middle of Camp Half-Blood. The sun was shining down on them. No tents, clean faces and while there was some sadness among them, the crowds seemed more uplifted. There were no screams and wails of despair and instead a dull thrum of murmured conversation as everyone waited for the campaign to begin in earnest. The air smelled of food and fresh rain.
"Polemarch." A demigod stood and nodded as Percy walked by.
"General." Another spoke, standing.
A centurion called for a salute as he passed their cohort. A harsh bark that made his formation bark their own salute.
Another group of Romans merely nodded as he walked by.
A couple Athena's kids sent him scathing looks and spat on the ground as he walked by.
A few other younger demigods looked at him hesitantly, bowing slightly as if they were unsure.
He didn't pay any heed to any them as he made his way to the center.
Percy nodded to Reyna and she stepped forward, casting a glance about as everyone finished the last of their preparations. He stood next to her, and armored as he was, cut an imposing figure in the small outcropping of silver that were the few Hunters of Artemis that remained.
"You all have your assignments. May the gods be with you." Reyna said. There was no need to shout as it was as still and quiet as a funeral if not moreso. Even then, her voice carried throughout the entirety of the camp.
The Romans would be returning to New Rome where they would be striking out at Mount Othrys first and foremost. With all the hostile Titans felled at Greece and monster numbers severely depleted, the Mount was an obvious target.
While the Legion had already tore the place apart during the Second Titanomachy, only just demolishing the throne room. Their objective was to now raze and salt it alongside a cadre of sorcerers and sorceresses led by a daughter of Trivia to ritually curse it.
The Romans were going to turn Othrys into a second Carthage.
And that was only after Percy made the mountain cave in on itself.
Othrys would never again be a stronghold for monster or Titan unless the Goddess of Magic herself allowed such a curse to dispel.
Most of the Greek camp would be emptied for the ensuing campaign. What few monster bands that remained on the East Coast were not enough to fight any sort of protracted battle against even a small warband of a demigods, leaving Camp Half-Blood almost defenseless wasn't an issue.
Besides, Peleus was here, short of another dragon, a Gigante or Titan, nothing was getting past the lizard. And the Gigantes and titans were all dead or cast down into the Pit to reform and dragons knew better than to incur the wrath of an veteran organized force of demigods on the warpath and on their home turf.
They would not only have to deal with Peleus but also over two thousand Greeks and a full strength Roman Legion.
Reyna nodded to him. Percy turned and nodded to the children of Hecate beside them.
They stepped forward, and many of the demigods and legacies gathered themselves up. With twirls of their wrists and hands, the large circles of amber sparks began to appear as if holes were enlarging in the air.
Percy exchanged looks with the Hunters he was beside, the Daughter of Demeter among them, unsurety as they none stepped forward. Percy would never forget those desolate fields that haunted his nights and days. There they were, right through the portal not a couple meters away from him.
The Son of Poseidon stepped forward and was the first through the portal.
"You learned to run from what you feel, and that's why you have nightmares. To deny is to invite madness. To accept is to control."
-Megan Chance, The Spiritualist
Not much to say here, let me here your thoughts! This is, of course, the story to get all the deleted arcs and unfinished and scrapped chapters for Of Water and Salt!
On that note, (and as always), you can find me on the Emerald Library Discord! It's a fantastic place to interact with other writers and readers where we just chill and chat about ideas, future works and generally just have a good time!
The link to that is on my profile!
