After his mom left, Percy decided to head to the pavilion for lunch, but stopped when he saw that same young girl from earlier poking at the ever-burning fire in the center of the cabin area.
Right. Taking a deep breath, he approached her slowly.
"Mind if I sit here?" he asked. She raised an eyebrow at him curiously, but otherwise only smiled.
"Of course not," she said, gesturing magnanimously to the ground beside her. "Anyone is welcome to sit at my hearth."
"Thank you, Aunt Hestia," he said as he took a seat on the stones that had been set up for exactly that purpose. She watched him curiously for several seconds.
"Funny how four words can imply so much," she finally said, putting the poker down and turning her full attention to Percy. "Aren't you new?"
He nodded. "Just arrived today."
"And yet you seem to know who your godly parent is, who I am, and what exactly that entails. Add that to the fact that I don't often get people around my fire during the day this time of year, let alone anyone who can truly see me, and we have quite the interesting puzzle on our hands."
He grinned and nodded. "I'm fine with being a puzzle. And I know who my father is as much as you do."
She raised her eyebrow again, in either question or amusement, before her face fell somberly. "I'm assuming you also know about the prophecy, then."
His own expression faded as he nodded, turning to look into the flames.
"Would you put up a barrier?" he asked. "Mainly for… divine listening in?" Because if there was anyone he trusted on Olympus, it was Aunt Hestia. That certainly hadn't changed after 300 years.
She eyed him cautiously for several seconds and closed her eyes. A couple of whispered words later, and he sensed a barrier of magic and power fall over them.
"It isn't unbreakable," she said, unnecessarily (though she didn't know that), "but it should give me a warning should anyone be listening in. Anything more powerful would both draw attention and require more power—likely more than just me, depending on the circumstances—to keep anyone from listening. This is more passive… although I get the feeling you knew that too."
He did, and that was fine, so Percy nodded and shrugged, trying to convey a 'you're not wrong' message without saying it. He also knew she likely couldn't do much to truly sense some of the more powerful immortals out there, some of the Titans, maybe some of the giants, definitely the Primordials, but this would have to be good enough. He was kind of lucky she'd complied, but then, it was Aunt Hestia and she was awesome like that.
"I only ask that you please let me know if someone does start watching, because I have a lot to say. Also, anything I'm about to say needs to stay secret. I won't require an oath on the Styx—" he paused and glanced around before leaning forward, "—or Chaos themselves—" she gasped, eyes widening, mortals weren't supposed to know about that level of oath, "—for me to give this information, but I have to stress how important this is, Aunt."
Eyes still wide and looking a little pale, she nodded slowly. Thankful, he took a deep breath.
"Aunt Hestia, I know why all prophecies have been rendered more or less null and void." And if she'd looked pale before, she looked downright pallid after that.
"How do you know that?"
"Because," he smiled, albeit wanly "I'm from the future. Where I'm from, they've already been fulfilled, and by coming back in time, I've more or less brought their state of fulfillment back. That sort of… changed everything."
She stared at him.
He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Um… oops?"
She shook her head. "You are your father's son if all you have to say about that is 'oops'."
He snorted. "That's probably more true than I'd really like to admit. Though you should meet my mom… who was just here. Aw, man." He facepalmed. "I thought it would be a better idea to wait—didn't want to overwhelm her—but…" he sighed. "You honestly should meet her. I think you'd be surprised at how much like her I am too."
His aunt smiled warmly, picking up her poker and waving it. A couple more logs fell onto the fire sending sparks into the air.
"How far in the future are you from, then?"
Percy coughed. "About three hundred years, give or take." He looked away, knowing she was staring at him pointedly.
After a moment, he sighed and turned back to her. "Dad tried to keep his oath, he did. But you and I both know how often Olympians are told 'no'. They're just not used to it. And gods are creatures of habit if nothing else. But because he tried… all of him was there when he met my mom." He knew his eyes grew distant as he remembered his father's words. "He said all of him loved her, so I inherited parts of more or less all his aspects. That kind of power comes with consequences." There was always a price.
"You speak as if…" She stared blankly at him. "You ascended."
He nodded. "Though I'm half convinced that happened because I didn't want it, for the record." Understatement. The state of Olympus after he'd first made some realizations…
Yeah, he didn't want to remember that. Especially not now with how it tended to poke at old wounds.
Instead, he focused on his aunt, finding more surprise in her expression. "Didn't?"
He slumped. "Still don't. But apparently it's fated to happen anyway. Well, either that, or I get the fields of Asphodel." And if he was bitter about that, well, could anyone really blame him? Who wasn't already an Olympian… or Aunt Hestia.
She blinked and turned back to the fire. "I… see." And to be fair, she probably did. Picking up her stick, she began to poke at the fire again. "Was it really so bad, being with us as family?"
He thought about that, wanting to give her a completely honest answer, if only because of his respect for her. In the end, he decided he didn't have the heart to tell her it wasn't that, well… at least not all of it, so he just answered her question.
"Not as bad as I thought it would be, but… I thought I'd earned Elysium. I wanted a break—a rest." He sighed. "Gods don't rest." No matter how many 'naps' Dionysus took. "Not really. Having that taken away was… difficult." Having the people he loved taken from him was worse.
Hestia glanced back over at him, eyes sympathetic, even as they burned orange-gold, a contrast to her chestnut-brown hair, and so different from Ares burning red. Comfort compared to conflict.
"What do you plan to do, then?" she finally asked.
His back straightened as he looked into the fire again, jaw setting firmly. "I'm going to do everything I can to save people."
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her tip her head to one side. "Save them from what?"
He had so much to say about that… where to start? Probably with context.
"I'll answer, but first… I seem to have brought some part of my domains back with me."
She blinked. "Your… domains."
"I had five major ones: Demigods, Personal Loyalty, the Deep—as in ocean deep, Destruction, and Liquid. Every liquid. The state of being liquid, really.
"I'm going to use those and my future knowledge to stop your father from rising, if I can. Though I suspect it's inevitable. Still, too many people died last time. That's who I need to try and save."
Hestia gasped. "Father is…"
Percy nodded. "And so is Mother Earth, though in my past she rose the year after the second Titan war. I'm not sure if that will stay the same now, though."
She covered her mouth with her hands, eyes wide and horrified.
"Why do you not want to tell this to anyone?" she finally asked, looking particularly shaky. "Why just me?"
"Your youngest brother won't believe me, and he'll likely put a ban on even talking about it. If it puts your mind at ease, I plan on telling Dad more or less everything, though. Maybe even your other brother at some point, but if too many people know too soon, we'll lose the advantage me coming back in time gives us."
Silence as she processed that.
"How did you even come back?" she finally ventured.
He shook his head. "An accident, although the three weavers of our pantheon think your father had something to do with it. They think some of him came back with me."
She looked sick. "Shouldn't that be more incentive to say something to the full Council?"
He shook his head again. "Aunt Hestia, I don't trust The King of the Gods. He has never once earned my respect, and until he does, how can I trust him? I know you love him, I know he's family—to both of us technically, but especially to you—but unless The Fates say otherwise, I can't see my opinion changing. In my memories, he tried to have me killed multiple times, after I'd succeeded in so many quests, to his benefit, I might add. Though if things end up remotely close to what happened last time, we will have proof your father is rising soon. Hopefully sooner than last time, too. And if we play our cards right, maybe when we combine the two camps, it will go more smoothly for when Great-Grandma Earth wakes."
The goddess stared at him as if he'd just told her the world was ending. Well, to be fair, he kind of had… and the danger wasn't even from only their pantheon. The Egyptians and Norse had their own issues going on, too, and that was just what he knew about. Speaking of, he may want to get in contact with the Kane siblings earlier this time… though that could also make things worse too… He didn't know their timeline and if they were having issues of their own… Could he even reach them at this point? He somehow doubted they'd just be down in Brooklyn right then.
He'd think about that and maybe talk to Hestia again later, after she'd had time to process the bomb he'd just dropped on her. He felt a little bad about it, but someone had to know, in case something happened to him.
"This is… beyond troubling, Perseus."
He nodded, ignoring the name thing for now. "I know. But I promise I will talk to Dad about it asap. Thing is, I know he can be kind of…" he paused and scratched his cheek a little sheepishly, "reckless. I wanted someone I trust to try and talk some sense into him."
"I rarely go into his realm," she pointed out. Fire didn't often exist underwater, let alone thrive.
"Talk to him about that, then?" he suggested. "We need to become closer as a pantheon anyway. For everyone's sake."
She nodded slowly, poking at the flames of her fire again. "I'll try, but it's difficult for me to reach him sometimes." He'd never seen her look so stunned. He tried to squash his guilt at causing that, with only some success.
"It'll be alright, Aunt Hestia. I'll do everything I can to stop your father from coming back. We won last time… just with too many losses."
She sighed and glanced back at him with her ember-warm eyes. "You trust me, Perseus, so I'll trust you, so long as you tell your father soon. We need to start coordinating."
Percy nodded. "I wanted to first talk to Dad when I made my first sacrifice here… one reason I wanted to talk to you. Please don't let that get to anybody else?"
Hestia smiled wanly, but he could tell she meant it. "I can see why you were chosen to ascend." He blushed a little, knowing she meant it as a compliment, but not wanting to get into that complicated can of worms that was his emotions regarding it.
"I'll come by and talk to you more often," he promised, rising to his feet. "Oh, and I'm planning on playing a prank on our lovely camp director. Well, kind of. More the camp, really, but it always bugged me how my dear cousin purposely doesn't remember kids' names." He held up a hand when she opened her mouth to protest. "I know why he does it, but it actively hurts a lot of campers psychologically, which hurts the entire pantheon in the long run. I took over running the camp in the future, and it's not that difficult to make the campers feel welcome. Half of what he does, he does out of spite—not even towards the kids themselves, but towards his father—and I can't condone that. Besides, I want to keep my parentage secret for as long as I can. So I'm going to see if I can get the campers to believe I'm a child of every Olympian who can have children." He grinned widely and winked at her as her smile grew cautious, but interested.
"Who can…?"
"Well, not anyone who has oaths of maidenhood or your youngest sister, due to her circumstances and domains. I may not care for her, but I'm not that cruel… or that stupid."
Hestia outright laughed. "Oh, Percy, I do believe the future is in good hands with you. But you are welcome to come and speak with me about it whenever you can."
"Thank you, Aunt," he said. "May I kiss your cheek?"
She blinked, surprised, then smiled again. "Of course."
He leaned down and gave her a soft kiss. "Thank you for being amazing, Aunt Hestia."
She blushed a little. "You flatter me."
He shook his head. "No, I really don't. It's just the truth. And I'll do everything I can to help the camp, Aunt, I promise."
"I'll hold you to that."
With a grin, he turned and began walking towards the pavilion again. He passed through the barrier and glanced behind just once to see her staring into her own flames, eyes distant.
He took the path to the pavilion without seeing much else. His talk with Hestia had put a lot of things into perspective. He needed to get a hold of his father… his father who was actively avoiding him for both of their safety. Great. Well, he was nothing if not stubborn. His father would have to listen to him at some point.
He was so caught up in his own thoughts going over his future plans, immediate plans, and his recent talk, that he didn't prepare himself as he stepped into the pavilion. Once he realized he'd reached his destination, he looked around, thankfully not seeing anyone from Hermes there yet, but he did freeze in place when he saw the Athena cabin there, sitting relatively quietly (even if they all fidgeted) and talking among themselves. A sea of blond hair—with the odd person who had red, brown, or black—and gray eyes, like usual. Since Athena tended to create children from intellectual ideas, Percy knew she had some control over how they looked and had to wonder why she chose blond hair so often. It wasn't the first time he'd thought that. It had caused quite the issue when the pantheon moved to some other countries where darker hair colors tended to be the norm.
Of course his eyes found her right away. Hair up in a high pony-tail, tanned skin, gray eyes that saw everything around her. Including him. His breath caught in his throat and it took every ounce of willpower he had to not rush right over then and there.
She's eleven, he told himself. And yeah, he was in an eleven-year-old human body, but that still bothered him. He didn't want to push her into anything, especially not at this age. This was still Annabeth, but he wanted her to have a childhood and build a friendship naturally, like they had before. And if nothing came of it this time… well, it would hurt, but he'd deal as long as she was happy. As usual, her happiness came before his own. And in this case, he would not let that change, no matter what his mother—or anyone else—said.
He forced his eyes to move on to other tables, most of them empty. Thankfully, he hadn't run into any of the Ares kids yet. They'd been at the canoe lake, which had been part of the reason why he and his mother had gone to the beach to talk instead of sitting on the end of the pier like he'd initially planned. He'd wanted to introduce her to the naiads, but most definitely not in front of the children of the God of War.
Aphrodite cabin was there in the pavilion as well. His eyes found Selina Beauregard and a very young Drew Tanaka among them. People on his list to save this time—along with the rest of them, of course. In the distance, Percy caught a large number of golden-haired children heading towards them. Apollo, then. Right. Michael Yew and Lee Fletcher were there… and so many others. He didn't think Will Solace was there just yet, but he'd keep an eye out.
Taking a deep breath, he calmed his nerves as best he could and stalked towards the table where the harpies had set out the lunch buffet. He loaded his plate down with several sandwiches, then walked calmly up to the brazier and sacred fire in the center.
To Poseidon, Percy thought quietly. He knew how prayers worked. He'd gotten more than a few of his own in his memories. Intent mattered. The stronger the intent, the louder the prayer. With little intent behind a prayer, it became difficult for the god to discern prayers from other things that happened. So he focused, hard, and hoped it would be enough.
If not, he had the rest of the summer (hopefully) to change that.
Hi, Dad. Yeah, I know you're my dad. Um… I have some things I really have to tell you, but please, don't claim me yet. If you want to meet me in a dream, that would probably be the best, or you can talk to Aunt Hestia, but yeah. We have to meet ASAP.
I look forward to talking with you. Please don't put this off or think it's some sort of childish thing. It's not. I promise. It's vitally important to the pantheon… both Roman and Greek.
If that didn't get his attention, nothing would.
Bye!
He smirked as he turned and made his way to the Poseidon table out of sheer habit.
"Oi, new kid!" someone called out to him and he paused, turning to see one Annabeth Chase standing up at her table, eyes fixed on him. "If you don't sit at your cabin's table, you could get in trouble."
He blinked, looked down at the table he'd always eaten at in his memories as a demigod, then turned and smiled at her.
"Thanks! Where's the Hermes table?"
She pointed it out and he thanked her before turning and heading to the table she'd gestured at. He supposed he should get used to eating there. It would be strange, eating at such a crowded table, but he had plans to fix that too. Plans he did want to speak about with both Hestia and his father about.
Fifteen or so minutes after he sat to eat, the Athena group left, more or less together. He watched them go as neutrally as he could, but it was so good to see his Wise Girl again, he wasn't quite sure if he pulled off casual or if he was grinning like a loon. He'd have to work on that. At least he was eating, so that should have hid it.
About five minutes after that, he heard another large group approach and glanced over to see a good fourteen or fifteen kids heading their way, many of them with elven features and mischievous smiles. One in particular stood out, taller than the rest as he laughed and joked with the group, patting several on the back or shoulder and chatting warmly.
Percy turned back around and took several deep breaths, bracing himself. He still had a lot of mixed feelings about the man who had done so much damage… who had been so angry at the gods that Percy thought it sometimes made his own frustration look pale in comparison.
He frowned. He'd never… thought of it like that before, but he could sense that knowledge was right. Luke was angry. Very, very angry. Like, a level of anger that would have Percy creating some pretty destructive storms. Wow.
He could sense campers' emotions more clearly in the future, although he tried not to, but hadn't really had the same problem until he actively looked this time…
Huh. Good to know. He'd have to be careful with that ability. The other campers did deserve some privacy… even people like Luke.
"Who's at our table?!" someone asked suddenly. They sounded young.
Percy took a deep, bracing breath and turned around to face the group of kids walking up to him.
"Uh, hi!" he said hurriedly, standing up. "Sorry if I shouldn't have, but I was hungry. Just got here. My name's Percy Jackson. I… uh, haven't been claimed yet?" He hoped that sounded sincere.
Several kids groaned, but the tallest blond just smiled.
"A new kid, huh?" he asked, walking forward, hand outstretched. His smile accented the scar over his eye. "Welcome to the Hermes cabin then. I'll be your head counselor until you get claimed, unless you're a Hermes kid. Then you'll have to put up with me until one of us leaves. My name is Luke. Luke Castellan. Nice to meet you."
xXx
Apollo hated his otherwise magnificent, amazing, envious life. Currently, he hated it with all of his might and passion. Which was no small feat.
Because everything had changed. The whole future had just… poofed into something else, and it had been hard enough for him to try and figure everything out the first time.
It didn't help that he had the images of himself as a pimply, ugly teen— a mortal teen nonetheless—bombarding his head all day. Nothing too concrete, just flashes and images and… some of those hurt in ways that weren't physical. He made sure not to mention those, even as he loudly complained about his other, obvious pain.
Honestly, he had no idea what to make of it all.
Thankfully, the Moirai had shown up to tell the gods about a yet unnamed anomaly that had more or less fulfilled most of the previous prophecies and created completely new ones. They refused to explain who or how or why, but that had been more information than Olympus had had before. Which was definitely good. He wasn't sure he could have been coherent if he'd had to try and explain it.
Which really said how bad the pain was. And it had taken him an entire day to form just one haiku! Artemis may or may not have quietly cheered when he'd complained about that—the traitor. What had happened to his sweet, innocent younger sister? His little Arty? Of course, he wouldn't say that aloud, especially in the state he'd found himself in. He was in pain, not stupid. Well, usually.
Currently, most of him had coalesced into one form and he lay face-down on his bed in his temple on Mount Olympus, groaning. He knew so many people were going through blocks right now due to his state—writer's blocks, art blocks, music blocks… At least Aesculapius had taken over most of his duties when it came to medicine and health temporarily, but that was of little comfort to him.
"Sharp pains throb, stab, rend,
Aargh! Is this how mortals feel?
Oh, the agony."
He finally voiced his haiku.
Next to him in her chair, Artemis snorted. "That was… actually pretty good, brother. I believe you do better when you're in pain. Is this what they mean by 'suffering for your art'?"
Apollo lifted his head to send a glare her way. Light stabbed into his eyes at the movement, but it was worth it to show her his horrified incredulity.
"Betrayed, by my own sister!" he lamented, plopping his head back down into his pillow.
"There, there," she said, patting his back, but not sounding remotely sympathetic. "It should pass soon, or so the Moirai said."
"Not soon enough," he said, his muffled voice barely heard from the confines of his pillow. "It really hurts, Arty."
He heard her sigh. "Don't call me 'Arty'… but I am sorry you are so uncomfortable, brother."
He appreciated that, he did, but… "'Discomfort' doesn't scratch it," he muttered, then winced as the image of a girl with short, brown hair and glasses flashed through his mind again. Oh, there she'd taken down a monster… quite well… that was a monster, right?
What was more disconcerting than the pain, though, was how he could feel these visions changing him—injecting feelings into him he had no context for. Not having at least some control over the emotions or the change scared him… deeply. More deeply than he'd like to admit even to himself. So deeply, he couldn't even articulate it to his sister.
He knew he wasn't the only god affected—Dionysus had complained about new discomforts, Athena had walked around looking lost and dazed, for once in her existence, Poseidon had been particularly grumpy and wouldn't tell anyone why, and Aphrodite had nearly had a heart attack, babbling on about new love, so strong, in so many areas… etc. etc. etc.
Maybe he could help her compose a new haiku later.
Many smaller gods had had issues too. But none as bad as him. He was sure of it.
"Arty… whyyy?" he moaned.
"Apollo," he heard his sister say shortly, "in pain or not, you call me by that repugnant nickname one more time and I will—"
He shot straight up, his eyes glowing as words formed—likely the first of many actual prophecies, he realized, not just context he didn't understand—and he began to speak.
(Only later would he realize the mummy of a woman, long-since dead, would simultaneously speak in Camp Half-Blood's attic, or a blond boy in a camp in California would tear into a stuffed animal and be led to lines he'd never seen before, no matter how many times he'd gone over the ancient prophecies.)
"The old fulfilled, the world anew, cannot prevent the crooked two.
Fifteen years must be fulfilled, or see men and Olympus yield.
If Change arises ere their time, above the new, the old shall climb.
The fruit, for love, once consumed, shows awful choices then exhumed.
The world in peril, once again, may thus be saved by gods and men."
He collapsed as soon as the last word left him, as if drawn out of his very soul. Some days, the 'benefits' from beating Python really weren't worth it. Although, now that he thought about it, his discomfort and pain had decreased significantly. At least some good had come of that.
For several seconds, the twins sat in silence until Artemis spoke quietly. "Brother? What was that?"
He sighed and turned bloodshot eyes to his sister.
"Call the council again. I'm pretty sure that was the latest great prophecy."
Then he turned his head back into his pillow. The next few days were going to suck.
xXx
AN: So, hubby started talking, right? I kind of downplayed how much he could with his family while giving them updates so that when we called them on Christmas, he could tell them (albeit with a slur) how much he loved them, missed them, and appreciated them/their support. We got many happy tears. It was awesome. :D However, ballpark for recovery to a point where he can walk are looking like anywhere from six months to a year. :/ So I have to find a way to make money fast. *sigh* So while spoons for posting are already low, they may deplete even lower. I'm sorry guys, but writing is easier than posting rn for some reason. :/ I will try to get more up soon, promise, but yeah... things happen. *ahem*
Thank you for everyone who has supported me so far. I really appreciate it. More than you know. And thank you for reading, too. 3
Thanks to my beta readers and discord mods: Berix, The Shadow Slayer, Asterius Daemon, Quathis, Harlequin, Speedster, and The Chronomancer! Also, than you to the rest of my Discord for putting up with the slowness there and still answering my silly questions.
Discord: discord. gg/xDDz3gqWfy (no spaces)