Percy couldn't fight the grin that had found itself printed on his face.
For being a child of the sea, flying on Blackjack was a guilty pleasure in the ruins of his world. Where he had the power to reshape the world by the unrelenting force of water, breaking free from the ground and flying was something uniquely right for him.
It had been that way for years now, like when he was younger and sneaked out on his trusted winged steed for late-night flights around New York or even in the past year on his farm. While there were no towering skylines ablaze with the endless light of mankind near his farm, feeling the rush of the air on his cheeks as he basked under the moonlight was always his nirvana, his escape. To be free of the Gaia's touch as he rested upon the winds did something to him. It was always a solid way to empty his mind after a day of shaking hands and haunting memories.
He never thought he'd be able to have this feeling on anything but Poseidon's pegasi, but here he floated, hovering above the Scottish highlands on a broom, observing the roaming mountains that stretched across the horizon.
The midday sun was a gentle kiss on his skin as he let his eyes close. Everything was so calm, so peaceful.
Up here, dreams of seat-demons and the thoughts of aggravating goddesses were obsolete.
It was just him and the winds. Now, with him having control of his own movement upon the broom, it finally felt right. The fear of back seating to Hekate's control was gone. It was just him and the winds.
"Percy! Get your head out of the clouds! We got a game to play." Roger flew up next to Percy. The two teens hovered far above the Hogwarts quidditch pitch. "For someone who didn't know how to fly on a broom this morning, you seem pretty comfortable already."
Percy shrugged, one hand gripping the broom, "It is like riding a really thin and skinny horse."
"And the flying part?"
"Like a horse," Percy smiled at the brown-haired teen. The Ravenclaw prefect nodded, not grasping the length of the sentiment but accepting it nonetheless.
"Think you are ready to play too? I know Ced rallied his Puffers for the first match. The Twins said they'd take the winner after that game."
Percy frowned, "I don't know how to play quidditch, so we'll probably only be playing the first match."
"Right." Roger scratched his chin, thinking, "Well, let's hope that the beginner's luck from last night extends to today. You know your football?"
"Pigskin or soccer?"
"Filthy American." Roger rolled his eyes. "Soccer," he mocked.
"Hey, don't give me that. You Brits called it soccer first."
"We did not," Roger whined.
"Please," Percy chuckled. "Use the Internet and do your research."
"Bloody hell, you think we have the Internet out here? I won't be able to search that up until next summer."
"I'm surprised you know what the Internet is. I haven't seen a single lightbulb, much less a computer, since I came here."
Roger shrugged, "Magic and muggle don't mix. Is it not the same across the pond?"
Percy shrugged, eliciting no answer but changing the topic. "So, soccer and quidditch. What's the rundown there?"
"Right. Well, for quidditch, you see those three hoops below us?" Roger pointed down to the pitch below. Those are the goals. A keeper or goalie will hover about them, defending them. Then you have the chasers. Three of them will be playing both offense and defense, trying to score and prevent the other chasers from doing so as well.
"Besides that, you have two beaters. They are the ones flying around with batons and playing interference by batting around the bludger at anyone on the pitch."
"Bludgers?"
"Right buggers those things. Two are in play at all times. They are about the size of a football and iron to the core."
"Completely iron?" Percy raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah. They used to be a large rock back in the day until repeated hits made them a swarm of gravel. There were too many injuries from that, and they had to find something more durable."
"That sounds horrible," Percy cringed. "Wait. Hold on. Iron balls the size of a soccer ball?" Were laistrygonain giants really just throwing bludgers the whole time?
"Yeah, probably a little bigger," Roger shrugged, unconcerned.
"And you are hitting that at each other?"
Again, he shrugged, "Hitting them at the brooms of another, but sometimes you miss."
"An iron soccer ball?" Percy repeated, baffled.
"Yeah, what about it?"
"That's over a hundred pounds, is it not?"
"It's not that expensive," Roger chuckled to himself before straightening out at Percy's deadpan. "Honestly, I don't know its exact weight, but it has enchantments to soften it up if you are concerned about getting hit by it."
"Why even make it of iron then if you are softening it up?"
"Hey man," Roger said, raising his hands in surrender. "You are asking the wrong person. I'm just a player."
"So, a beater's job is to hit an iron ball at each other, hoping it's soft enough not to kill someone?"
"When you put it like that, you make us sound like we are crazy."
Percy chuckled, shaking his head. He grew up on a rock wall that spewed lava and night keepers that were literal monsters. Maybe the world was just a tad crazy….
"No comment."
"That's what I thought," Roger smirked. "Anyway, last is the seeker. They have a separate goal from everyone else. They have to catch a tiny winged golden ball to score an instant hundred and fifty points for their team and force the end of a match, no matter how long it has been played until that point, be that a minute or a month."
"A month?" Percy's eyes widen, glancing at the brunette who's shrugged.
"Only ever happened once. Worst teams in the world, too. But that's how they finally sold a full stadium. People flocked from around the world to see the game finally end."
"For a month?"
"Through rain and shine."
"Did they sleep on their brooms?"
"Subs rotated in and out," Roger shrugged. "I'm sure if you find a Quidditch History book you can find it pretty easy."
"I'd imagine. If a month-long game wasn't recorded in history, then what would even be the point?"
"To win," Roger replied. "Can't let yourself accept losing, no matter the odds."
No matter the odds…. Percy nodded, looking away. He knew that ideology. He knew that well.
"So," Percy turned to the group of people mounting brooms below. "What position am I playing today?"
"Whatever you want. The rest of us will play around you."
"Would it be a problem if I played keeper? Being a goalie seems a lot easier than trying to play a role I don't even have a real basis to know how to play."
"Aye, that's fine," Roger smiled. "Let me tell the rest, and I will meet you down by the hoops."
:P LINE BREAK d:
"You know, you play keeper pretty well for someone who never played before." Hekate bumped Percy's shoulder as he wiped the sweat from his brow. A frown was already painted across his face.
He had just dismounted his broom after a near hour of constant flying and defending the hoops from a group of people who actually knew what they were doing. So, while he had blocked more than a couple of shots taken at the trio of loops, too many had passed him for his liking. Sure, it was supposed to be a "friendly" game, and there were no real stakes on the line, but it still irritated Percy not to be the winner.
Perseus Jackson did not lose. He refused to lose.
But he lost…. Even if it wasn't a fight but a silly game of broom hockey.
"Hmm," he vocalized to the goddess, walking past her with his broom in hand.
"You don't seem happy for someone who was smiling a few minutes ago when you were forty points ahead."
"I wonder why," he snipped.
"You lost because the other team caught the snitch. As a keeper, that's out of your hands. You did great," she tried to console him. "Don't be so hard on yourself."
"If I would've blocked more shots, the catch wouldn't have mattered."
"Do you blame yourself for everything?" Hekate groaned, rolling her eyes. "Blame your chasers for not scoring more themselves."
Percy frowned, turning to the goddess. "That's not fair to them when I could've done more."
Hekate shrugged, "Life isn't fair. I thought you, of all people, should know that by now."
Percy turned away, resuming his walk to the castle, "Doesn't mean I cannot be fair."
"Still stuck playing hero, being the one to bear the weight?" Hekate chided, falling in step with him.
"It's a game, Hekate. You don't need to look into it."
"And yet your mood simmers because of it. You know that's not what I want from you."
What I want from you…. Percy snorted. He had no idea what she actually wanted from him.
"Percy, seriously. You don't have to be so hard on yourself. In twenty minutes, that game you just played won't matter. What mattered was that you had fun, right?"
Percy glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "It wasn't terrible," he admitted
"I'll take what I can get," she retorted, once more bumping his shoulder with her own. "Maybe next time you can play a different position, and you can actually experience the game instead of sitting there like a duckling in a pond waiting to catch bread thrown at it."
Percy glanced at where her hand had found itself on his upper arm, clinging to him as if they had been through thick and thin together. He wished she'd stop that. They weren't friends like that, and they never would be.
"Now what?" Percy asked, nearing the castle's front courtyard. Its stone-arched exterior halls were littered with students lounging about the open airways, filling the air with boisterous laughter and warm conversations.
Percy paused, closing his eyes as he rested in the nostalgic noise. He hadn't heard such an uplifting sound in a while now.
Hekate stilled beside him, watching him, studying him.
He took a breath, feeling the gentle breeze pass by him as a choir of laughter echoed through the yard and in his soul.
He exhaled.
It was okay that he lost. It was only a game, and lives were not at stake.
"Reminds you of camp, does it not?" Hekate asked gently. "Before the wars?"
He nodded. It was like the first few weeks of him arriving at camp for the first time. The demigods back then were beacons of life as they started the summer without the idea of Titans or Giants weighing on their minds. The dining pavilion and late-night campfires were loud affairs, filled with song, laughter, and the talk of worry-free hearts.
It had been a long time since he had heard such innocence. Yet, here he found it again in the calm of a crazy world of magic where they hurled balls of iron at each other.
"It's a new start, Percy. That weight of the world you still feel on your shoulders, you can shed it here. Let the castle bear it as you soar past the clouds on your broom." She linked her arm around his, leaning into his side as she rested her head on his shoulder. "You are allowed to be happy, Percy."
He opened his eyes but did not respond, not trusting himself to speak.
He wanted to believe in her words, but what if this was just the start of the cycle repeating?
It was a new place just for those with powers beyond mortal existence, like camp. The air was tinged with a familiar innocence of youth hung in the air, and budding companionship formed in the minds around him. But just as Kronos haunted his nights with offers of salvation, the thing in the chair from his dreams was around this corner, waiting for a war to start.
"I don't like it," he muttered, pulling his arm free and walking into the castle and away from everyone else.
The world was built off the backing of cycles of every nature. The cycle of violence was no different than the water cycle, the cycle of life, or even the cycle of rocks. It always came repeated itself.
Hekate hurried to catch up, calling his name as he powerwalked towards the central steps of the castle.
He didn't slow to wait for her. He had to get away from the calm, from the echoes of naïve laughter, even as he reached the second floor. He could feel the shadows growing beneath the torchlight. He could feel Hekate try to gently grab him. He could feel the storm coming….
He stopped in the middle of a hallway, not a soul in sight besides the two Greeks, and finally, Percy turned to Hekate.
"What do you want from me?" he complained, watching confusion grow in her eyes. "You didn't bring me here because of some altruistic idea of saving me. You gods aren't like that," he spat.
Hekate frowned. Her lips moved to rebuke him, but he let her have no say.
"My dream, something is coming. Someone is plotting in the shadows of this place. I saw it. Just admit you want me to take care of it, and we can be done with this charade."
"Where is this coming from?" Hekate's frown deepened. "What do you mean by something is coming?"
"Don't play dumb. My dream!" Percy hissed. "The one you didn't care about."
She scoffed, "It is not that I didn't care about it, Percy. I just wanted things to be normal for you. I figured you demigods have dreams every night about weird things you don't fully understand."
"Normal?" he laughed. "Things haven't been normal since I killed my math teacher in middle school."
"That isn't what I meant by normal. I meant that things could be normal in the regard that you could be a teen and act your age. That you wouldn't act like a bio-polar sourpuss all the time. I had hoped that I could have shown you something fun, and you could've fed off that energy and smiled like you were when you were playing keeper. It was working, too, until you lost and took the defeat as if it was a loss on the battlefield."
"Oh, I'm sorry that the child soldier doesn't know how to cope with losing, especially when losing was never an option in his life before."
"You need help."
Percy flinched, "Fuck you."
Hekate's eyes widen, rearing back as if she were physically struck. "Do I need to remind you who is the goddess here?"
Percy narrowed his eyes, clenching his fist. "Do I need to remind you who killed Gaia?"
The goddess of magik faltered.
Good. Remember who you made me become.
"Do you know how I did it?" he asked, looking down at her as he inched closer. "I can tell you if you want to know? I can tell you all about what you gods made me do. I can tell you what it is like to watch the life fade from an immortal's eyes."
"We didn't make you do anything," Hekate rebuked, backstepping.
"Really?" Percy hissed, closing the gap once more, feeling a fire boil in his veins. "It was us you sent to the frontlines. I recall you gods even took your sweet time to help us. It wasn't till Jason nearly died that you all descended down upon your chariots."
"That was Zeus, not me."
"And that excuses you? That you allowed yourself to sit and wait as your children were fighting for their lives?"
A roll of thunder shook the castle.
Hekate's eyes widened as she threw her hands up in surrender, "Please, Percy, let's calm down."
"I am calm!" he snapped.
"Percy, please!"
"' Percy, please,'" he mocked. "Please, what? Huh? You dragged me here as some demon thing is on the rise in the shadows, just like Kronos was. Don't try and temper me now. You brought me here because you want the Percy that got things done. Let's skip this broom shit and cut to the chase."
The castle shook once more. Children screamed as they ran inside from the onslaught of sudden rain outside.
"You wanted the monster you gods created, so don't play coy with me. Stop these charades of trying to 'help' me and be on my good side."
Hekate frowned and quickly shook her head back and forth in confusion. "That's not true, Perseus. I didn't bring you here as a weapon, I swear. I don't even know what you mean about a 'demon in the shadows.'"
"As if. This is your world. How could you not know? It is as if Zeus didn't know what bird was flying in the sky."
"You don't understand. We gods have largely lost our influence over the goings of Europe, and this community of magical beings has evolved and shaped itself on its own for many years now without my influence. I assure you, whatever danger you have dreamt of, I do not know."
Thunder rolled again, and a few students entered the hallway where the two were.
Percy glanced at them from the corner of his eye. The two girls were soaked. Their hair looked as if it had been dipped in water, and a trail of water dripped from their robes.
Percy blinked. When did it start raining?
The son of Poseidon pulled away from Hekate, feeling as his gut continued to twist.
He created the storm….
He stepped back, nearly tripping on his feet as he threw a hand out to the cold stone wall. The castle caught him as his vision swam, turning and tilting upside down. The edges of his sight blurred black, tunneling as he looked at his free hand.
Green ichor covered his hand, dripping down onto the stones below.
He blinked, feeling the world close in.
"Mercy!"
Grass-green eyes pleaded to him, a hand frantically pawing at his face, begging for an end.
He heard the choking coughs of a woman drowning on blood and water mixing in her throat.
More green blood pooled around his feet, dripping from his hair, staining his whole person.
"Mercy!"
AN: Percy's got problems. Homie needs to talk to a therapist.
Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Leave a comment, follow, and favorite.
Join the discord. We run polls, live writing sessions, and some fun times there. Also has free pet pics as well. Nah, but for real, join, especially since FFN isn't notifying you of updates. Link in bio.
Before anyone complains about the lack of quidditch content, I debated it for a hot minute. I talked with some people about it. The value of the quidditch match was more tied up in the talk afterward than it ever was in the action, so it was skipped. However, next time we roll out the brooms, we can expect some action.
Addressing a common review, I get that goes along the lines of "Percy is unlikeable or has an attitude or is a dick." I want to tell you that is the point. In time, Percy will heal away from the broken idea of Percy that we rest at. That is the point of the story, after all, so commenting that he is rude is like saying the sky is blue here.
Check out the page for other stories! I have another HP fic I'm posting that some of you might enjoy. For others, I have DC comics work and Star Wars content. And for the radicals out there, I have a Pertemis fic I'm writing out of spite. I also am pioneering a new crossover here soon involving PJO and Avatar (The James Cameron SciFi movie). I would love it if you just at least glanced at it once.
Thanks for all the support.
That's about it.
-Manke