Percy and Sally spent the rest of the day just walking around town, enjoying each other's company. His mom called it window shopping. He called it 'bumming'. Old fashioned, but he'd long since learned that didn't necessarily mean 'bad'. Something many of his campers could have benefited from learning as well.
It was nice to speak and think in English again, even with the dyslexia. The Heart of the West had moved too many times in the future, and knowledge of the language it resided in would start creeping into the gods' language (part of how they knew it had moved), but his English would always be his first language. Nostalgia and all.
He wound up telling his mother about the far future, and some of the demigods he'd met then. Every adventure had their own unique qualities, and it was entertaining to tell most of the time. Sometimes, though… He tried to put a positive spin on everything, he really did. But he'd always been more than a little upset that minors—children sometimes not even in their double digits—had to go on quests and save their town or their family or Olympus. He was working on it; had made strides with the Romans more than the Greeks, but he'd been vying for hard age limits and had almost worn the council down before his jaunt through time. He'd implemented the rule that no one under the age of twelve could go initially, and then bumped it up after two or three decades. When he'd been sent back, it had been an unofficial sixteen before someone could go on a quest, unless a prophecy directly called for it, but Percy had gotten on the Olympian's case more than once for choosing their young child and mostly, they'd backed off.
It would have been worse had Percy not been the god of demigods. The idea of not being able to help even as much as he had (which had not been enough), would have definitely taken its toll on him. He suspected that had happened to many gods, actually—Apollo, Hermes, Dionysus, and Artemis to name a few. That particular domain had given him no small amount of relief. Giving Zeus the middle finger every time the drama queen complained was just the icing on the cake. He seemed to hate that Percy didn't care if demigods brought their parents accolades or whatever; that he only seemed to care about them living long enough to graduate from high school. Or whatever country's equivalent.
Percy had begun to feel like a lawyer going to bat for people who couldn't defend themselves, and he took that job seriously. It exhausted him to think of how he'd have to start basically from scratch, but he would. It was his job after all.
He didn't know how much that got through to his mother, though. Sometimes, it really wasn't avoidable in those stories, but he didn't want to worry her, so he started focusing on the countries they'd moved to instead. Their first stay in South Korea had been fun the century or so they'd been there. They'd even stayed several decades in a couple of African countries. He'd enjoyed that, too. Then they'd gone back to Korea, which had been just as interesting the second time around.
But there was always something about coming home. Even with all its problems, America would always be that, and still had its good points. Like his mother and her cookies. Nowhere else in the world had those, and that would always trump more or less anything else in his mind. Also, his friends, and this version of Camp Half-Blood. There was always a version of Camp Half-Blood in whatever country they set up in… but there was just something about the one Percy grew up in.
Especially after the Titan war.
Speaking of… what was he going to do about that? Would he have to go through all of it again? He hoped not. Besides, knowing what he knew now would change everything. Percy wasn't a good actor. Never had been. Not long term. That hadn't changed with ascension—much to Apollo and Dionysus' annoyance. (Of course not, why would it?) Thus, Percy couldn't act like his old self. He could apparently barely remember how his old self even acted. Although he had noticed a change in himself since he'd returned. He found himself smiling happily, or growling in frustration and anger at little things he would have barely batted an eye at in the future. Someone catcalling his mother almost had him tearing the guy's spleen out with his own blood, but three seconds later, a group of children rushing by and giggling as their minder chased after them fondly had him grinning like a loon. Was that due to his mortality or physical age? Or both? Neither?
Ugh.
He killed three more monsters that day. It wasn't difficult, but it still tended to take a lot out of him seeing as he didn't have any celestial bronze or imperial gold on him, and he had to drink far more water than he remembered doing as a child to recover. However, it was a relief to know that he could handle most of what came his way, even while protecting someone.
Which begged the question: Should he go to Yancy? That would be his next school. He wasn't looking forward to it. Or school at all. Even if it didn't give him as many problems as he remembered because of his future knowledge, he'd still have ADHD, dyslexia, and a terrible school record to contend with. But he'd also met Grover there. And technically Chiron.
What would his other options be though? He could go to camp early, he supposed. Though he'd probably have to stay in the Hermes cabin due to the fact that his father wouldn't claim him if he wasn't forced to. Which, fine, but he'd always preferred his own space. Still, he could deal with that for a year if it meant seeing Annabeth again.
And Luke. Di immortals, Luke. Could he stop the son of Hermes from making the biggest mistake of his life? Of all of their lives? Stop him from believing Kronos' lies?
Did he want to?
After far too long contemplating that question, he finally decided that yes, he did want to. If only for Annabeth and Thalia's sake.
But how would that change everything?
He bit his lip.
"Percy?" His mother's voice brought him out of his musings and he looked up from the ice-cream cone he held. "Your ice-cream is melting," she said pointedly. Percy blinked, looked down, and saw several blue drips decorating the fingers wrapped around his cone.
"Oh," he said, blinking. Then he reached out with his power and froze it again, wincing when that simple trick hurt. Di Immortales, had he really had this many issues as a demigod? Then again, he was supposed to be a child of the sea, not ice cream, but still… In the future, he'd had some power over most states of matter, seeing as liquid was directly adjacent to both solid and gas. And depending on whatever the gas was made of, he even had some control over that. But here and now, he could barely cool anything down to a freezing point. It was… frustrating. And something he'd have to take into consideration when it came to fighting monsters.
He still wasn't sure whether he brought that ability back with him from the future or if he'd had it all along, but either way, he would have to train it. Or retrain it. He wasn't looking forward to that.
His mother just looked at him with that troubled expression he hated, like she wanted to say something but didn't know if it would help or hurt him more. Seeing the pain on him, she probably wanted him to stop using his powers for little things like that. Not that he would. But he wouldn't do so in front of her if she didn't like seeing him in pain. Which, fair.
Eventually, she decided not to say anything, instead finishing her own ice cream and standing. "We should probably be getting home."
Oh. Right. Home.
To Gabe.
Yeah.
No.
"Mom," he said solemnly, "get rid of Gabe. Please."
His mother paused, frowning. He could see her reluctance, not out of any love for the man, but for what his loss in their life would mean.
"You've seen me take care of monsters," he said with a reassuring smile. "And once I train up, I'll be even better. I can take care of myself."
She bit her lip. "I don't know, Percy…"
He sighed. "Is being around a human monster better than Tartarus' monsters? Really?"
She winced, and he mentally kicked himself for putting it like that, but… she also needed to hear it.
"Please, Mom," he said again. "We'll figure things out. Maybe I can go to camp this summer and then I'll come back in the fall."
She sighed. "I've been looking into schools, and some of the only ones that will take you with your record are boarding schools. That means we won't see each other…"
Or maybe he could do something online? But he also didn't want to be around his mom's house 24/7, as that would attract monsters to her. If he lived there, but left daily for one reason or another, they'd most likely leave her alone, as they had in the past he remembered. He also remembered how to do some minor warding… and while it wouldn't be enough to completely mask his scent, it should be enough to keep them safe if he wasn't there all the time. And if he recalled correctly, he couldn't get a job at his age. So that was out. He'd have to go out to train, which would still attract monsters, but would that be enough? Though the monsters would double as training, he supposed.
Well, either way, Gabe had to go. He wasn't putting up with that abusive exophthalmic amathés* a moment longer than he absolutely had to.
And he no longer had to. It was as simple as that. (And he'd never wanted his mom to deal with the man, ever.)
"Then I'll visit you on the weekends. Or we'll try something else. But mom… you don't have to put up with him anymore. Please don't. We both know it's not healthy."
She still looked so worried, so he pushed a little harder.
"I know you're scared of what will happen without him, but when I can take care of myself—when I know what's coming and what can happen—is it really worth it to keep him around?"
His mom looked away, seeming ashamed.
"I'm happy you loved me enough to want to protect me—to not abandon me to the camp like I've seen so many other parents do. But, especially now, we've outgrown what good he can do for us."
She sighed and nodded. "I'll contact a lawyer and draw up the divorce papers."
He smiled. "Good. Then save up so you can go back to school. I know you always wanted to finish your degree."
"My…" she blinked for a second, then eyed him suspiciously. "Percy, did I finish my degree in your future?"
He shrugged. "Maybe. I can't say too much about the future, Mom." He didn't want to get on the Moirai's bad side more than he probably already was, thank you very much. "But let's just say that good things come your way when Gabe isn't there. Maybe not right away, but it will come. Besides, I'm pretty sure I can help bring in money this—"
"You're not getting a job," she said sternly.
He blinked. "Um… I can talk clams into giving up pearls naturally and easily. I can find lost things in the water. I can help with boats. I don't have to have an actual job, Mom. But I can help with money. I did at this age before anyway."
Beside him, his mother stiffened. "What?" she asked quietly.
Percy blinked. Oh… right. She didn't know.
"Gabe told me I had to help contribute if I want to stay under his roof. Whatever money I made, he'd usually make me give up. He called it our 'boy's secret'. Then he'd gamble it away."
Oh. There was the fire in his mother's eyes he so loved to see. And, honestly, if he'd come back a year later than he had, he would have just let things play out as before when it came to Medusa and Gabe. But he couldn't leave his mother with that man for another year. Not if he could put a stop to it. Besides, if he was gone to Yancy, it shouldn't matter much anyway. Mrs. Dodds and Grover had found him the first time. And he'd been away from Gabe then. He knew the man's disgusting smell lingered, but it wouldn't be enough to last to Christmas break, although there were enough other breaks in the school year that his mom had probably initially thought it would be fine. However, with him knowing everything now and actively using his powers? Yeah, no. Gabe's smell probably wouldn't be enough with him staying there. It might be with the warding, but he'd have to actively ward the walls. Probably manually since he couldn't just make the correct symbols appear, and that could take a while. And Gabe wouldn't be happy about that.
He'd have to get those wards down before Grover got to school if he went to Yancy, though. He could hide them then. And he'd probably have to tone his use of powers down when Grover came along, or give himself away as a son of Poseidon… Would that be better or worse? They'd probably want him to go to camp immediately if they found out. They'd probably want him to stay at camp. And honestly trying to figure everything out really made him want to just let things play out as they had before. He wasn't good at tracking and planning. Especially now. He could do it, but it frustrated him and tended to just make him want to… well, rush in, sword swinging. That 'strategy' had worked last time, after all.
The biggest problem, though, was still what he should do about Luke. And the biggest incentive? Annabeth, of course.
Not for the first time, he missed her brains and planning.
He'd missed her for almost 300 years now. Well, 250. One of the longest living Greek demigods for decades. Percy didn't count.
When he wanted to talk to someone about planning, after Annabeth had passed on, he usually went to see Triton. Which wasn't an option right now for more than one reason. And he couldn't even ask his father without potentially drawing Zeus' and Hades' ire. Actually, he'd have to be careful to do his water powers inside or in the shade… and definitely not at night. He didn't need Artemis and Apollo accidentally catching sight of him.
Ugh. This was such a pain.
And yet… he had the opportunity to save people—give them the chance to actually live their lives. Selina, Beckendorf, Michael, Bianca, Zoe… and so many others. Even—especially—people who had joined the Titans.
But he'd have to take advantage of his knowledge.
A large bus pulled up in front of them and Percy blinked, realizing he and his mother had been standing at the bus stop for a while now. He didn't even remember getting there, he'd been so lost in thought. And it seemed like his mother was too.
Good.
And if Gabe decided this would play out any other way than him leaving with his tail between his legs, Percy would find out just how well he could control blood at this point in his life. He smirked a little, firm in the knowledge that that man couldn't hurt his mother anymore—Percy wouldn't let him.
Just as he went to step on the bus, right in front of his mother, something pulled at him and he froze. As a god, he would have just pushed his consciousness onto the source of his domain nearest whatever had caught his attention. It took him a moment to realize he couldn't do that, and he mentally kicked himself as his gaze snapped over to the left.
There, in the park across from them, sat a group of women sitting in a circle knitting, weaving, or sewing.
Three of them in particular caught his eye, as they stared directly at him, and knitted a… actually, he couldn't tell from this distance. He felt his blood drain from his face.
"Percy?" his mother asked from behind him.
He swallowed.
"Uh, Mom? I… uh… forgot something."
She seemed surprised as he turned and made his way through the crowd.
"Wait, Percy?! What did you forget?"
She was following him, and part of him wanted to wait for her, but… those were the Fates, and he didn't want to put his mother in a dangerous position. It would be dangerous enough for him to approach them. Would have been dangerous as a god, let alone a demigod.
Not that that would have stopped him.
Unfortunately, he wasn't fast enough. He had to use a crosswalk to head over to the park unless he wanted to jump out into traffic and potentially draw attention to himself. But… he was positive they wanted to talk to him—that they wouldn't disappear, so it would be best to take the long way.
Which was why his mother caught up to him.
"Percy," she scolded as she approached him in the crowd waiting for the light to cross. "God or not, don't just run off! You scared me to death!"
He winced. He'd been wanting to avoid scaring her.
"Um…" he said, trying to remember how it felt to be a 300 year old god and not an 11 year old child, but failing miserably. Then he nodded towards the knitting group… that was still there, at the edge of the grass. That came right up to the sidewalk. He'd never seen that in this part of Central Park before. Right. "That… knitting circle."
His mother frowned and turned to see what he was looking at just as the sign to walk turned on. He had time to see her turn pale before he was walking across the street, this time with her in tow.
"Percy…" she hissed worriedly.
"They want to talk to me."
"What? Why?!"
He paused and thought about that. He hadn't really thought to ask why. He just knew they wanted to talk to him, and he needed some answers, too. His typical 'rush into it' attitude showed itself again. Although, to be fair, this was the Fates.
"Probably because I've changed things by coming back in time."
He really hoped the mist was stopping the mortals around them from hearing him talk about things like that.
"Are… you sure this is a good idea?" she asked.
He sighed. "Not really, no. But I don't think they're going to give me much of a choice." He could just see them showing up under every awning that would allow it from here to their apartment. "Besides, I want some answers."
"Percy…" his mother said again, this time pleading. He paused and turned to her, feeling his expression soften.
"It's okay, Mom. I'll be fine." He hesitated again before voicing his next words. "But I want you to stay back here."
"What?!" she asked, not quite shrieking and wringing her fingers in worry.
He held up his hands. "Mom, I'm a demigod and it'll probably be uncomfortable for me. It might actually hurt you to be around them."
She bit her lip and he could tell she did not want to let him go.
"Mom, do you trust me?" he asked.
Sally Jackson frowned as she met her son's gaze. "Of course I do. I'm not sure I trust them."
He snorted. "Fair. And you should be careful. I should be careful. But Mom… there really isn't much we can do. They want to talk. I need answers. This is actually one of the better scenarios, now that I think about it. But I've gone into situations much worse than this and come out fine."
His mother closed her eyes. "Percy, that doesn't help."
He sighed. "I know. But it's the best I have. To be fair, I have seen and talked to them before, as a demigod, and I came out fine then too."
She didn't answer for several seconds, just keeping her eyes closed and breathing deeply. Eventually, she opened them and fixed her blue gaze on him, jaw tightening in determination.
"Fine. But if you're not back here in fifteen minutes, I will come and get you. I don't care how old you are, you're still my son."
He loved his mother so much. Either he'd forgotten just how much, or she'd somehow managed to be even better than he remembered. Or both. But he liked to think she was just that awesome. (He really didn't want to think about even more he'd forgotten—gods were supposed to have eidetic memories!)
"You're literally the best, Mom," he said, running forward and hugging her, reveling in her warmth and the fact that she was right there before tearing himself away and heading towards the knitting circle. "Be right back!"
"You'd better!"
Once he reached the edge of the grass, he slowed to a walk, chin held high. Just as he went to step up to them, he noticed the other women in the circle. There was a group of three others working on one project together, but everything about them seemed pale and deathly, despite their young faces—beautiful and unnerving all at once. Despite the warm day, they seemed to be dressed for winter, wearing white sweaters, long, heavy, white skirts and white boots. Their hair hung loosely around their shoulders blowing in an unseen wind.
He knew them. The Norns. Percy swallowed and glanced between them and the Fates, three old women who continued to stare at him, dressed in mostly dark colors, skirts and all, with red, green, and brown shawls around their shoulders respectively. He knew the Norns and the Fates had similar roles to play in their pantheons, and it made sense they would know each other, but seeing them next to each other didn't help his nerves. It also didn't help when he noticed their projects would make birds' nests jealous. It seemed both groups were knitting (crocheting? He didn't know the difference) a tangled knot of so many colors of string, it almost made his head ache. He swallowed.
"Ah, here is the man of the hour," a woman next to the Norns said. She looked striking in her blue dress, although her eyes—white and gold, next to the Norn's plain white—were just as disconcerting. That… that was Frigg.
He took a closer look at the others in the circle. One woman, he noted, had eight eyes and wove a… blanket? She reminded him of Piper, but older. So… Native American. Grandmother Spider, most likely (he thought that was her name… he needed to brush up on other pantheons). And on the other side of the circle sat two Asian women, one slightly older than the other. Both of them looked resplendent in silk, Chinese dresses, their hair done up in intricate styles. He wasn't as familiar with the Chinese pantheon, but he had a couple of guesses…
He was in the presence of some very, very powerful people. And he could feel it. He'd thought that was just the Fates, but now… Only they would participate in an inter pantheon knitting circle.
Clearing his throat, he stepped into the center of their circle and bowed. "My Ladies," he said respectfully, hoping his voice didn't sound too strained. "Was Lady Tayet unable to make it?" he tried to joke, bringing up the Egyptian goddess of weaving. Because it seemed like everyone else was doing some kind of yarn or threadwork.
"She doesn't have a host," one of the Chinese women said calmly, working on intricate needlework that left behind a picture that seemed to come alive, even unfinished as it was.
"She isn't the only one who could not make it to see where the disturbances originated," the old, Native American grandmother said in a firm but scratchy voice. As of yet, only the Fates and Frigg had actually looked at him. For which he was thankful. He wasn't entirely sure he'd survive everyone's gaze on him at once. Not like this.
He tried not to look nervous and met the center Fates' gaze—he couldn't tell which one it was, but he guessed Clotho.
"Then I'll cut to the chase. What's going on, exactly?"
Everyone stopped. No one who wasn't already looking at him turned their attention away from their project, but Percy felt the atmosphere around them grow heavy. It took every ounce of willpower to not bend under it.
"We were hoping you could tell us," one of the Norns—he wasn't entirely sure which one—said. Or kind of said… spoke into his head? He couldn't stop a shiver at their tone. It felt as if his whole body had been dunked in ice. That tracked with the last time he'd spoken to them. However, he had been a god then, and this went into all new levels of unpleasant. Yay.
"Many of our weavings," Frigg explained, "or at least those of us who have continued to weave in the tapestry of life and fate, have found our projects ruined."
She held up the canvas she'd been working on. Much like the Asian deity, her needlework seemed to come to life, until a certain point in the picture when it looked like the thread equivalent of TV static. Gulping, he glanced over at the Asian pictures and realized that their hands had been hiding much the same. The blanket Grandmother Spider wove had a large lump of thread that bunched and gathered the material around it towards the top, and he'd already noted the Fates' and the Norns' work.
Definitely not good. He needed to tell them what he knew, then. For every pantheon's sake.
He sighed and rubbed the back of his head, hoping he could cover his nervousness, although he doubted it.
"I don't really know. I'm from 300 years in the future, then something happened, and I woke up here in the past. In my old body, nonetheless."
Aaaand that got everyone's attention. He had to close his eyes and breathe deeply to stay calm enough to remain standing when everyone's gaze turned on him. He also may have had to use his own powers on his own blood to keep himself upright. It hurt, but that was fine. The pain grounded him. And hey, he survived.
"You actively traveled to the past?" the older Chinese woman asked slowly.
"How?" the Native American Grandmother asked, leaning forward intently.
"I'm not sure," he repeated, forcing his voice to not shake. "I mean, in the future, the Go… my pantheon's Goddess of Wisdom had a child who was working on a particle accelerator. I was overseeing the project and… something went wrong… I think?" He still couldn't clearly remember. He knew he'd wanted to protect the kids, so he'd thrown up some shields… had he remembered to shield himself? He didn't think so.
Oh.
But still…
"That alone should not do anything," the Fate on the left—Atropos(?)—pointed out.
Percy nodded. "I'm not a scientist, but even I got that. But I can't think of anything else it could be."
"Wait," the third Fate—Lachesis?—finally spoke, drawing all attention to her. "I sense… father time on you."
Percy blinked, then felt himself pale. "Wait… as in the Titan?" He'd been afraid of that.
"Yes," the first Fate said.
He frowned. Why would Kronos have sent him back in time? Or had it been an accident? Some sort of opportunity taken advantage of? But what oppor—wait.
Percy felt his face pale as he looked up at the Fates again. "Um… did… did he… come back with me?"
All the women, who had gone back to their weaving, stopped again.
"That would be… unfortunate," Grandmother Spider said softly.
"I doubt it," Frigg said, half to herself. She kept studying her own weaving. "As chaotic as it has become, this isn't unsalvageable. Announcing that our prophecies—with only a few exceptions—are now null and void, revisiting any prophecies that still work… yes. It's salvageable." She glanced up at Percy. "Especially with a force able to directly interfere working with us."
Percy gulped. "Us?" he asked weakly. "I mean, in the future, the pantheons sort of came together, but… not like this. And definitely not now… before… everything." That may not even happen now.
"And many of the pantheons will not like it," the Norn's iciness rang through the clearing. It almost seemed like they spoke as one. Super creepy, but Percy was kind of impressed at their theatrics. They definitely gave off the vibe they wanted.
"This is too much extra work," the older Asian woman complained. The younger one nodded as well, but also seemed a little miffed at her older counterpart's comments.
"Recovering from upsets like this usually is," Grandmother Spider said matter-of-factly.
Wait.
"You've had upsets like this before?" Percy asked, incredulous.
"No," Frigg said, amused. "Well, not to this extent."
"It would be the Greeks that did this," the younger Asian woman said, shooting a pointed look at the Fates, who ignored her.
"And the Romans," Percy muttered. Everyone froze. Again. The Fates' forms flickered a little.
"Could you explain that, Percy dear?" Frigg asked, her smile just a touch too wide.
The time-traveler choked a little. "Um… I was part Roman. I didn't have a Roman and Greek side. Not really. A little more raw as a Greek, a little more disciplined as a Roman." He absently rubbed the spot where he'd had his SPQR Tattoo. That had come with him into godhood, but tended to be fainter as a Greek. Still there, but just not as prevalent. He'd honestly hoped he would never develop a schism like many of the others tended to have. He cleared his throat and looked around the circle a little sheepishly. "So in this case, I'm both Greek and Roman. Or I was. So… yeah."
Grandmother Spider sighed and seemed to slump. Frigg put a hand to the bridge of her nose, like she would need to address a tension headache. The Fates looked about ready to murder someone. The Chinese women looked about ready to murder the Fates. Only the Norns seemed entirely unbothered—unflappable. Percy, once again, found himself impressed.
"The displaced king did send something back," the second Fate said suddenly, as if to distract from what had happened. "But not everything…"
Any positivity Percy had gained drained away at those words. "What exactly did he send?" he asked, voice dry.
"We cannot tell," the first Fate said. "Not exactly. But the future has changed. By returning, you have essentially fulfilled every prophecy that was fulfilled in the future."
Oh.
Oh.
"Every… one?" Percy wheezed.
"It would have changed had only Perseus returned," the Norns said, as if they hadn't heard him. Percy shivered, even as he managed to glare at them.
"Percy. Unless you want my destructive side to come out."
"You are no longer a god," the older Asian pointed out.
Percy opened his mouth to retort, but paused as he realized she was right and closed his mouth again. He… hadn't told them about that, but he wasn't surprised they'd figured it out. "Yeah. Being in just my body again is… weird. Not bad, but weird." Because part of him should be in every part of his domain. That included all liquid on the face of the planet. It had initially been distracting, but even then, he could only pay attention to certain points at any given time. Even sensing liquid in his immediate vicinity was a lot for his human brain to process, but infinitely less than what he remembered… or kind of remembered because he didn't think a mortal mind could comprehend that state of being.
"In any case," he said after a moment of pointed silence, "I still prefer 'Percy'."
"Very well," the Norns said.
"You wish to ask us questions before we go," the third Fate said.
Percy blinked. Oh, right. He did.
"Uh, yeah. I… was wondering if I should go to Camp early, or wait for Yancy and Grover. I want to… try and save someone."
A sort of shudder ran through the entire group (except the Norns, who just shifted oddly).
"Who will you give up in exchange should you succeed?" the first Fate asked.
Percy's blood ran cold. He'd had to choose between who to save and who to sacrifice before, and it never ceased to shatter him emotionally.
"You… want me to kill someone?" he asked, immediately knowing that wasn't what they'd asked. And judging by their dry expressions, they knew he knew.
He took a deep breath. No, they weren't asking for a sacrifice. They were just pointing out the consequences.
"You're saying Kro… the displaced king will take someone's body? And there is nothing we can do about it."
"Your pantheon has sewn its own seeds and now must reap the consequences," the older Asian woman (Percy really needed to figure out who she was) pointed out.
"It is not our place to make choices," the three Fates said at once and… oh, that was trippy. Whereas Percy felt cold with the Norns, his insides seemed to light on fire and buzz with energy when the Fates spoke as one.
"We can only guide and predict," the second Fate said, pointed despite her neutral tone as she stared at the two Asians—who seemed entirely unbothered. "Our interference is limited by our rules, just as yours are."
Percy mulled that over. "So, I'm guessing you can speak to me because of the sudden shift in… well, everything. That fulfills the requirements to physically confront me."
"Indeed," Frigg confirmed, and several of the women nodded. The Norse deity gestured around them, "This will be a one-time occurrence. And the longer we can keep the pantheons apart, the more we can prepare. Please keep that in mind."
Well, good to know.
He nodded. "And everything has more or less reset?" he asked carefully, mind still whirling at that.
Seeing where he was going, the Fates headed that off. "You cannot prevent fate," they said at once.
Percy shook his head. "No, but I can work to stop so many demigods from dying. I can work to make this world better."
"Your actions may make more die," Grandmother Spider pointed out.
He looked down grimly, nodding. "It might," he whispered. "But… could I count myself the god of loyalty if I didn't try?"
"Not a god," the younger Asian woman muttered, but she didn't sound upset. More thoughtful.
"I… suppose it's the mindset," Percy said, sad but firm. "I still have it… for better or worse. And… I want to live up to it. To my own ideal of that domain."
Another shudder ran through the group, this one far less ominous.
"Very well, Perseus Jackson," the Fates said as one again. "You have made your choice. You must live with the consequences."
He nodded. "I will."
"So be it."
And they disappeared, leaving him standing on the sidewalk outside of Central Park next to his mother. He blinked for a moment as he reoriented himself, noting vaguely how his mother jumped at his sudden appearance.
"Percy! Are you alright? What happened?"
He glanced back at where the knitting circle had been, now only a stone fence cutting New York City off from Central Park, then sighed. "I'll tell you on the way home, Mom."
At least now he had a direction. And he would work his hardest to save everyone he could.
Because he was Percy Jackson, no matter what form that took.
xXx
*According to a random website I looked up, lol (it's fanfiction), this means 'bug-eyed fool' in ancient Greek/Greek.
AN: I had a page up about different weavers in the pantheons, but I'm using an alternate computer as mine broke.
Okay, so this was supposed to update every week. Then my husband collapsed. Turns out he has a brain bleed, think stroke but worse. He's currently in the hospital unable to walk or talk. Sooo… I can't guarantee when my next update will be. I wanted to get my original book up on Vella too. *sigh* It's been a long month.
Anyway. Thank you for reading, and thank you to my lovely beta readers: Anyway, thanks to my Beta Readers and helpers! Berix, The Shadow Slayer, Asterius Daemon, Quathis, Harlequin, Speedster, and The Chronomancer! Some are also my amazing mods for my discord.
Discord: discord. gg/xDDz3gqWfy (no spaces)