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.
discord. gg/Z7udeJpDBt (Remove Space)
Discord server created for Astraeus – A place for Q&A, as well as general discussion of the story and somewhere I will be posting updates. I also have a good amount of Story Art posted there for examples of people, places and things in the story. Server is expanding to include some of my other work, as well as things like a recommendation channel for some of our favorite fanfics.
Anyway, thanks to everyone supporting my work!
Chapter Seventeen
The city of Atlantis was as sprawling and grand as anything Olympus could boast, and in truth they were both quite majestic, beautiful enough to inspire memory even long after one was taken into the clouds, and the other sunk deep into the sea. What began as an island city dedicated to the God Poseidon in the ancient world had become something entirely different in the millennia which followed. It was built by those of the Golden Race who were long extinct from the world, and was one of the final monuments to their memory.
The original city could still be seen in the white paved roads and marble buildings with glass domes and intricate pillars – a remnant of ancient Greek architecture. However, the sea had seemingly leeched itself into the very foundations of the aquatic metropolis, and so abalone studded with opaque gems and pearls now lined most of the buildings. Spires of shimmering coral imitated the vibrant trees which once shaded the lovely gardens, and the gardens themselves were now filled with thriving marine plants in all the colors of the rainbow.
Intricate mosaics could be found throughout the city depicting battles with ancient sea creatures and feats of heroism and tragedy both, and amongst it all the peoples of this sunken city lived their daily lives in a parallel but completely separate world to those on the surface. Merpeople and sea nymphs, deities of water and seafaring practices were all welcome in Atlantis, and alongside them lived the uncounted species of marine life which swam freely though the city of their God. Stables of hippocampi and carriages drawn by all manner of aquatic creatures, as well as marketplaces and places for gathering spread themselves throughout the city, while the edges were dominated by the barracks and training grounds of the armies of Poseidon.
Tunnels could be found on the edge of the city branching outward, and they would travel deeper and further away for miles before reaching the famed forges of the cyclopes, their furnaces heated by the volcanic heart of the world itself.
In the city center, the palace of Poseidon swelled up from the seabed like a shining jewel, studded with balconies and gardens of it's own, as well as a high domed roof carved from a clear-blue sea glass. A fortress from which he could watch over the entire city, and where the people who looked to him as their King could gaze upon it from nearly any angle.
Despite her long absence from the city of her youth, and even despite her issues with Poseidon, Athena found his city to be utterly breathtaking from a distant view. Olympus was a good match for it, but after thousands of years it had become somewhat faded in her memory and no longer inspired the wonder it once held. Atlantis was, then, refreshing in it's splendor.
Less refreshing was the enormous army which positioned itself on the west side of the city, attempting to spread and encircle it in full.
The defenses were activated fully, and a shimmering dome was raised to cover the entire metropolis. The cyclopes were in wide, neat lines surrounding the base of the city, while the merpeople, heavily armored and some of them soaring around in carriages drawn by hippocampi were defending the upper portions of the dome.
The force had come from the west, which meant that if it originated in Alaska or somewhere near there, perhaps the Bering Sea, they'd had to discover some of the hidden gateways, and likely had emerged in the Gulf of Mexico before moving to engage Atlantis.
There were hidden tunnels spread across the world, Athena knew, almost like caves hidden on the sea floor, where one could enter and then pass through the ancient archways, and emerge somewhere else in the world's oceans. Oceanus probably knew all of them – may have been the one to create them in the first place, for all she knew – and so he would be very adept at navigating his forces exactly where he wanted them. Each of the gateways were guarded by a small force of cyclopes, but for an army this size they would have been overrun in seconds.
And the army was massive – sea serpents and water spirits, Hydras and Kraken, Leviathan and what looked to be the entire Sea of Monsters were descending upon Atlantis, which looked small in comparison to the endless armies of Oceanus. At the very back of the army, the water was clouded with ink and hiding a large section of the sea, likely the locations of the Titans if she had to guess, and the base from which they intended to launch their siege.
Next to her, and slightly ahead as they sank rapidly toward the battle, Perseus held a very intense look on his face. He'd discarded the black cloak, Athena noticed, for it would only hinder him while fighting in the water. Having a large mass of cloth floating around wasn't a good idea, and it was for this reason that she knew the Atlanteans always worse slim-fitting clothing and armor.
This coming battle would be something of a challenge for him, despite all his strength. He wouldn't be able to call upon his subjects so deep in the sea without causing more harm to the locals than perhaps even the enemy, and he would have to be cautious in the use of his white hot energy which she knew he favored. Athena would be less limited, but they would all have to be somewhat cautious in an effort to not harm the city's defenders.
Poseidon could easily crush the invading force by himself if he were willing to disregard the damage it would cause to his own forces. It was likely for this reason that they'd remained hidden until they were at the city's edge – the one place where Poseidon would hesitate to bring down his full might.
"We should locate the command post as quickly as possible. With the defenses raised we won't be able to enter the city except at the designated points," she called to Perseus, and he glanced back over his shoulder at her briefly. Talking underwater made her voice slightly muffed to her own ears, and she could feel the distinctly odd feeling of the water pressed against her mouth and nose.
"Yeah, we could do that," he said, though he was beginning to smirk slightly. "Or, we can put off that decidedly uncomfortable meeting – for both of us – and see just how much havoc we can cause to the enemy lines. The Titans won't lead from the front, they'll want to wear down the defenses first. If we want to truly draw them out then we'll have to make an impact they can't ignore."
He knew their enemy far better than she did, and she had to concede that he was likely right about how the enemy would operate. Still, she felt it prudent to observe the chain of command, and Poseidon was most certainly in command here whether she liked it or not. History told many tales about soldiers and generals who disregarded proper procedure to their own detriment. To be fair though…
Athena felt much the same as he did, if she disregarded her own sense of duty and rigid discipline. She felt that singing in her bones, that call to battle that she'd done her best to ignore since the world had become more civilized and tidy. She was born for warfare, in a way, and she couldn't deny the thrill she felt with a weapon in her hand and an enemy who would dare stand across from her.
The training she'd been giving the demigods had ignited something within her that, now faced with an enemy it could be aimed at, seemed to beg for conflict. It had been years, uncounted decades since she truly joined a battle, and the thought of doing so was a desirable one. The clashing of blade and shield, the willpower to place yourself into danger and face an enemy that would take your life if given the smallest opportunity was written upon her very essence. It had been engraved into the very foundations of Greek warrior society, which she'd had a personal hand in shaping.
Sparta and it's legendary warriors gave patronage to her right alongside her brother Ares, as did all soldiers of Greece from ages past. Athens was renowned for their unwavering armies, all of them who knelt at shrines of her image...
The challenging horns of the enemy echoed through the deep waters cutting off her train of thought, the armies of Oceanus having taken notice of their rapid approach from the surface, and Athena allowed a brief nod in the direction of Perseus. So be it.
The spears and harpoons which sliced through the water toward their position were utterly ignored, and instead she allowed her internal energy to surge as she flickered forward, the speed of her passing knocking them all off course. Among a cloud of silt and debris Athena landed in a crouch upon the seabed, and the enemies who once stood there were blown aside like dry leaves.
Ancient armor crawled across her form, replacing the more refined image she presented on a daily basis. Aegis answered her call alongside her beloved spear and the short xiphos at her waist. When she rose to face her enemies, it was with the weight of several thousand years of war and combat hanging around her like a shroud. She may never be what her father and his brothers were, what Perseus was, and most certainly not what he had once been, but she was Pallas Athena, and though the Titans may not understand what that meant, they soon would.
Before the silt that surrounded her could settle once more to the seabed, Athena leapt forward smoothly in the general direction of the city and it's defenders. Distantly, she acknowledged the fact that Perseus had changed his trajectory and had landed instead on an overhanging plateau of coral and stone, where the enemy had posted ballista and were launching their massive harpoons at the city guard. Knowing that he hardly needed her aid, she instead focused on the ground forces.
Beasts she had never seen stood armed before her, appearing like a cross between sea creatures and humanoids, though they were certainly not merpeople. Large hulking figures with the heads of sea serpents and eels. Some were shark-like, with oddly shaped faces full of razor sharp teeth and with fins poking from their body randomly. They carried long, serrated blades and massive shields formed of turtle shells or even large clams taken from the very deepest waters.
They faltered before her charge, but not nearly enough – they should've been fleeing for their lives.
Athena cared not one ounce what terrifying visage they wore, her spear fell upon them with wrath and speed, disciplined strikes to obvious weak points, and her shield caused them to recoil with terror from an image they likely didn't know the face of, but which struck something within them all the same. The water didn't slow her enough to make a difference, and unlike when she'd take up arms against the demigods, she was holding back none of her speed or strength this time.
The fell before her like wheat to a scythe, and her movement was so quick and sure that they never mounted an effective defense as she carved through their number. Blood and golden dust and ruin was all she left in her wake, and a simple leap forward was enough to bring back clear waters which she would only cloud once more.
They tried to attack her from what they assumed was a blind-side, but she'd seen them and felt their movement upon the currents, and a single blast of pure golden energy erased them from her presence.
Athena was well into her element, and it was nearly a shame to realize she'd carved a straight – if thin – line directly through the enemy forces to find herself facing the shields of Poseidon's army. From overhead, shadows flickered as the weak sunlight which reached so very deep in the sea was blocked out by massive shapes. Glancing upward, Athena could see the mermen engaging the swimming enemy which looked to attack the dome from above.
She also saw something which concerned her slightly. It was a chariot pulled by hippocampi, and decorated with the Trident of Poseidon to indicate it's royal occupant. However she knew it was neither Triton (who's name still caused her a slight grief) nor was it Poseidon. It was surrounded by the King's Guard – truly massive mermen who were heavily armored and nearly twice the size of the normal soldiers – and that meant it could only be Amphitrite.
Far be it from Athena to say, but she felt that the Queen should have been safely within the city. She didn't know exactly where Poseidon was, but were anything to befall his wife she knew for a singular fact that he would lay waste to the entire seafloor to see her avenged. Making up her mind, Athena crouched and then launched herself toward the Queen's position.
The King's Guard turned to her quickly, and she was happy to see that they did not falter even in the face of an Olympian. Still, she didn't wish to hurt them and so she used her energy to once more flicker forward, darting past them and landing smoothly upon the chariot behind the armored form of Amphitrite.
The woman was as lovely as Athena remembered, and perhaps was even more so as she was armored for war. She held a large spear with a barbed hook at the end, and looked resplendent in deep green armor studded with pearls.
"Athena, love, it's so good to see you," the Queen said brightly, and her mood seemed to be quite good despite the armies laying siege to her home. "I told Poseidon we wouldn't stand alone."
"You do not, my lady," Athena responded. While technically she outranked the other Goddess, both as a member of the Council and as a daughter of the one true King, she'd always held a deep respect for the manner and for the image that Amphitrite displayed. She was, so far as Athena was concerned, Hera's better in every single way. "Though it's lovely to see you in such high spirits, I would think to find you much more distressed with these wolves at your door."
Amphitrite laughed, and something in her eyes was sparkling. "How could I allow those thoughts to bring me down at the sight of my son after so many centuries?" The woman had her eyes fixed upon Perseus in the far distance, and Athena nearly flinched at the bright flare of white light flashed through the sea like lightning. Around Perseus, the massive form of a Kraken seemed to dissolve into nothing, and in response the armies of Atlantis roared their approval. "He's come home, and without hesitation he defends this kingdom, even when his father doubted him. No, there is nothing to be distressed about today."
Athena thought perhaps she'd spoken too soon as a deep shadow loomed over them. A Leviathan, and it looked upon their small gathering with a deep, hungering intensity.
Despite the cold December temperatures facing the northeast coast, Camp Half-Blood had the benefit of being favored by the Gods. Because of this, while it was slightly chilly within the boundaries of camp, Apollo kept them warm and Zeus kept the harsh weather from reaching them. Poseidon allowed them a warm sea-breeze off the Long Island Sound, which was actually quite frigid at the moment, and with the correct temperatures Demeter allowed the area to flourish. They were still producing strawberries and grapes from the vineyards, tended to by the children of both Dionysus and Demeter herself.
For Thalia it was a little surreal after harsh winters spent outdoors, struggling to keep warm enough so they didn't freeze to death in their sleep. Instead, she was enjoying lunch in an open-air pavilion, and while they'd all switched to thin long-sleeved t-shirts over their normal ones, the weather felt like something they might experience in California or one of the southern states. Chilly at night, but mild to warm daytime temperatures.
She was seated at the table for Cabin 5 across from Nico because she'd long since grown tired of spending her days alone as the sole member of Cabin 1 (aka the crypt). The boy was friendly enough, and had enough energy to keep the conversation going even when she didn't feel like talking much Besides, he was in a similar position to her, a kindred spirit in a way.
After his arrival the other campers had treated him warily, despite Perseus naming him his personal champion – whatever that even meant. He was a son of Hades, the one their Patron God was set against, and he was associated with death and darkness as far as they were concerned. Most of them didn't see the bright light within him like she did, very similar to Annabeth in a way, and so she'd started looking out for the kid.
If they wanted to pick on him or bully him, they'd have to go through her first. And if they wanted to treat him like a leper, then at least she would show him friendship. He was a little too...giddy...for her taste, but he was a kid with a rough life just like the rest of them. Even discounting all of that, they were the only two kids of the 'Big 3' at camp, and that was apparently something special on it's own.
Nico had been catching some flak since the summer because he was also now a camp counselor, representing Cabin 5, and he was the youngest by far. He'd been shown favor by Perseus, gifted with his own set of armor, and was being given a lighter form of the same training Thalia had been receiving for months. The favoritism – there was no way to pretend it wasn't – was something that rankled the other campers and caused friction. In this, they were also similar.
The fact that most of the campers could stomp Nico into a puddle in a fight seemed to make them believe he wasn't worthy of the attention. While Thalia didn't really know if either of them were 'worthy', she'd like to see those same kids try that crap on her.
It wasn't empty boasting to claim that, at age thirteen (technically age twelve for another twenty-four hours) Thalia was likely one of the strongest fighters in camp, and if she really let loose with her powers, she could very likely take on entire Cabins at once. Some of the kids like Mark were still better than her at individual weapons, but none of them could match the absolute storm she was capable of summoning. Because of that they all tended to back off when she defended Nico.
"What do you have after lunch today?" she asked the boy, cutting him off as he was about to launch into another explanation of his favorite game. As the only members of their Cabins, their schedules often changed to slot them into times where the number of campers were lightest.
"More history with Cabin 10, and then I've got Greek with 4 and 6," he said, obviously not happy with his schedule. "Didn't realize we'd have to do school work here."
Thalia chuckled, flicking a piece of bread crust across the table at him. "Don't whine, at least we get to do it here. Some kids have to go to actual schools full of gossiping mortals and look over their shoulders for monsters while they use the bathroom. Not sure which one's worse, really."
Nico took a bite of his sandwich and shrugged. "We've got the cleaning harpies," he said, his voice muffled by his food. "And Travis Stoll said he saw the Minotaur in the forest where we play Capture the Flag. Besides, we've got Cabin 12 for gossips anyway."
Thalia snorted at his gullibility. "The Minotaur hasn't been seen since the Labyrinth, in ancient times. Travis is lying to you, dork."
Nico looked as if he were about to respond, however before he could make a noise their conversation – and their lunch – was interrupted by a dazzling flash of light just outside the pavilion. Thalia craned her head around to see the source of it, and she witnessed the stalking form of the Goddess Artemis marching at a quick pace through the center of the tables toward Chiron.
"Prepare yourselves," she ordered sharply, her voice slicing through the remaining conversation. "Territories long held by Olympus are currently under siege, and we have reason to believe that this location will be targeted. The protective barrier has fallen in it's entirety, and enemy forces could cross the borders at any moment. Full arms and armor, and ready all defenses."
Thalia felt as if a bucket of icy water had fallen across her head at the order, and there was absolutely no reason to assume it was a joke. Across from her, Nico seemed to have frozen as well.
"Will we be receiving any aid from Olympus?"
The question seemed to cut across all of them, and Thalia closed her eyes in agitation as she recognized Ethan Nakamura's voice. Why couldn't he just…
Artemis stopped cold, her forward momentum halting and her gaze pinning Ethan into his seat with a sudden and intense ferocity. "You dare?" she nearly whispered. "You think that my presence here is, what? For my own benefit? If we didn't need every single shield and sword at the ready, you would have just breathed your very final breath for the insult, boy."
There was a shimmering, silver glow around her, and Thalia could see that she was furious. "Right now, I could be far more useful at any one of the locations under attack. Instead, I've given my word to see that this camp and it's inhabitants are as well defended as I can make them within the bounds of my own rules. Make no mistake, I do not have to be here, and I'm only doing so at the request of Perseus while he defends another location."
Ethan looked as if he were about to stammer a response, but Artemis cut him off. "Speak not one more word to me, or else it will certainly be the last you ever voice. Ready yourself. Now."
The campers all seemed to drop their food at once and scramble toward the armory. Meanwhile, Thalia collected Nico and tried to hang back as she saw Artemis approach Chiron. "We do not know for certain an attack will come, and perhaps it is a diversion, but we must prepare. Perseus and Athena have joined Poseidon in Atlantis where Oceanus lays siege, and my father and brothers have gone into the west to the foot of the mountain there. So long as a Titan doesn't challenge the camp directly, there is little aid we can offer within the bounds of our laws. It's likely to get quite messy."
"Understood, my lady," Chiron said. "We will hold, so long as we are able. Should we prepare to be challenged here by a member of the enemy, then?"
Artemis shook her head. "We do not believe so. The enemy will use our own laws against us. They know that we have little room for interference where monsters are concerned, and that should they act more directly, we will be free to respond in kind. At the moment, our best guess would be a force of monsters and creatures should any attack come at all."
That was as much as Thalia could realistically hear and not be seen as eavesdropping. She was forced to follow the other campers out of the pavilion. However, instead of going toward the armory, she and Nico had their own armor stored in their Cabins. It was gifted to them by the Gods, and was not to be stored with the rest of the armor where it could be stolen or damaged.
"What's going to happen?" Nico asked nervously.
"I don't know, but I do know that whatever comes, we'd be much safer armed and protected. Go to Cabin 5 and collect your armor. Meet at my Cabin and I'll help you get ready. After that, you'll stay with me or one of the older campers at all times. You won't be at the front of the shield wall unless we can't help it, so don't worry too much." she told him, in as calm a manner as she was capable of.
"I don't have a shield," he muttered, and she realized he was shaking slightly.
Thalia stopped walking and grabbed his shoulders, turning him to face her. "Listen, we're going to look out for you, and you heard Lady Artemis. There may not even be an attack, we just have to prepare in case there is one. I've done this before – faced a lot of monsters out to get me – and believe me, I know what I'm talking about. If they come, me and the older campers will send them to Tartarus or send them packing. Just get your armor, and come meet me. We'll get you a shield and whatever else you need then."
Nico nodded, and then he took off running toward his Cabin. Meanwhile, Thalia angled herself toward her own and hoped that one of Athena's kids was taking care of Annabeth as well. She'd disappeared with her siblings in the rush, and she hoped to catch up to her later and make sure she was away from the fighting. A six-year-old had no business holding a shield or a blade.
The trip to Cabin 1 was swift, and she was quick to arm herself. The black under-layer of cloth covered mail was actually quite comfortable, and the silver armor edged with bronze which covered it was only slightly less so. Still, it fit her very well and offered a measure of protection she'd never fought a real battle with before. She trained in it alongside the others as well as in single combat with Perseus, and she was glad to have it if they were to be attacked by the monsters. The solid gauntlets left her fingers exposed for dexterity sake, but they would cover her up to the elbow and protect against bites and slashes.
Across her chest, the lightning bolt of her father seemed ready to leap out of the metal, and she made sure to grab her helm, though she didn't like wearing it much. It was an ornate thing, a Corinthian style and matched her armor in color, but it had gold engravings of eagles and thunderbolts, as well as a large, white horse-hair crest to indicate royalty. The other campers had red and sometimes blue decorations, but hers was the only pure white.
It was only right, Athena had said, that she wear the symbol of royalty as daughter of the King. Thalia noticed that the Gods didn't seem to care about showing favoritism openly, and Chiron claimed it was because they still viewed the world through an ancient lens. In ages past, it wasn't only normal but expected that a prince or princess be treated better than the others around them. They would get finer meals and accommodation, as well as receiving better training and combat gear.
She'd fought against it at first but the Gods weren't to be denied, and so Thalia took what they offered but never asked for more.
She'd barely finished getting ready when Nico arrived, half dressed as he'd tried to get his armor on by himself, but instead had managed to twist his under-layer and his breastplate wouldn't fasten right. Thalia helped him straighten everything, and realized that his dark armor was nearly as ornate as her own. His had more engraving, though it was kind-of abstract, a deep black trimmed with bronze. His helm was a match for the rest of the set, and while it was in the same general style as her own it didn't have any type of crest. The only feature which stood out was the bronze compass on the forehead.
Once he was set, the boy put his helm on and Thalia felt slightly sick to her stomach. He was too young, they all were, and though the armor fit him perfectly, she realized that there should never be a reason to make it so small. Children didn't belong in war, and yet they didn't have a choice.
There was a horn from across camp – the conch, she realized – and Chiron's voice carried through the trees. "South!" he shouted, and once more the conch blew. "To the south! Shields and spears! Archers, with me!"
There was a piercing howl which seemed to slice through the air of Camp Half-Blood and leave a chill in her blood, and even as the next roar came from the enemy she was sprinting to the southern edge of the property, Nico trailing behind her.
As she ran, she saw the dryads and satyrs rallying to the call of Chiron, sprinting to the south as well and carrying all manner of clubs and mostly blunt weapons. Water from the lake was slithering like serpents across the ground at the command of the naiads, and already she could hear the distant clash of the fighting begin.
"Nico, you need to break off when we pass the trees and make for the support lines!" she shouted, huffing at the extra energy needed to speak while she ran. "Help defend the wounded and restock supplies. Arrows for the archers and spears to the rear lines to be passed forward to the shield wall."
They'd trained for this, under both Perseus and Athena, and she'd be damned if all their training failed on the first test. The support lines should already be forming, while the Ares and Hephaestus kids took the front lines. She was supposed to be there too. Meanwhile the younger kids like Nico and Nyssa were to stay out of the fight as much as was possible.
Cabin 7 would be taking a rear position with a vantage point for their archery, and Athena's kids would be reinforcing the front and covering both flanks. The rest would be wherever they were needed, and some would be guarding the daughters of Hecate who were supposed to be using their magic on the enemy force, manipulating the Mist into creatures to aid in the fight or as shields to defend the lines.
They broke the trees to see utter chaos. The lines weren't formed properly as most of their forces hadn't made it into position before the enemy was upon them. Hellhounds were launching themselves at the front and she could already see two orange t-shirts laying flat on the ground, their armor having apparently failed them.
A helpless fury seemed to overtake her, and as Nico broke right toward the support lines like she ordered, Thalia instead crested the steep hill slightly to her left and leaped into the open air.
Always at her fingertips, the wind and the storm came at her call, and Thalia heaved as she tore the lightning from the sky. The sudden flash and the thundering boom which accompanied it broke the enemy's charge, and she dropped into a roll as she once more touched the ground. Aegis appeared on her left hand and her spear in her right, and she sprinted to the front.
Overhead the suddenly black clouds churned along with her emotions, and they only awaited her call once more.
The storm which suddenly sprung to life over Long Island was a summer breeze compared to the one which had consumed the west coast. Lightning and thunder, wind and rain seemed to take on a life of it's own, and from that storm emerged Zeus, falling within a bolt of electricity toward the base of what the mortals called Tamalpais, but which the Gods knew to be Othrys reborn.
With the strength of the final essence of Ouranos which consumed the top of the mountain, even Zeus dared not try to land at the peak for fear of causing the collapse of the entire sky. Instead, he would have to make the climb – the very same climb he once made to take the fortress and throw down his opponents.
He landed amidst a sea of enemies, all of them lesser creatures. A single wave of his hand cleared them, and there was no dust left behind as he erased them from his path. They were less than an annoyance, and he forgot about them as quickly as he'd noticed them. His storm was pounding the mountainside, and as he unleashed his true strength for the first time in several thousand years, the entire world seemed to be just beneath his fingertips.
The sky touched everything, in some way or another, and he could feel the rush of mortals as they celebrated the Holiday season, filling the streets and the shopping malls and the parks. The Christian world was lit with colorful lights and images of that ridiculous fat man, slothful as he was, and others across the world reveled in their own form of celebration. There was also death and sorrow, and it lived often times right alongside the joyful and the privileged.
Everything was open to his senses. The towering waves out in the high seas, creatures and monsters which scuttled around the world, believing themselves beyond his reach. The other Gods, moving about the world with an apathetic air – completing their duties as they always had, and uncaring of much beyond that narrow view.
He could even feel Alaska, though it was dull to his senses and he could find no purchase there with which to truly see anything.
And so, with that, he should have been able to feel the movements just ahead of him on the mountainside. He couldn't, and while he was not diminished in his power, he also could not see that which was hidden from his sight. There was a shroud over it, very different than the one which once was held over the small speck in Colorado back in the summer. The curtain which fell upon Othrys was similar, he imagined, to the one which covered Olympus.
It wasn't the Mist, it was something far more ancient. It was sovereignty, it was the certainty that this place belonged to another, and that he held no sway over it any longer. It was the same ownership which he held over Olympus, and the same ownership his father once held over Othrys. It was…
Zeus frowned fiercely, unmoved as Hermes and Ares arrived to stand next to him. Ares whistled lowly, looking around at the base of the mountain, and Zeus cut his eyes to him.
"Your work, I take it?" his son asked, eyebrows raised.
"What?" Zeus asked sharply, unwilling to play games.
"Think he's talking about the fact that this section of the mountain should be...well, there should be something here." said Hermes.
"There was, a small force of perhaps a thousand foot soldiers. They aren't here anymore," Zeus answered.
"Yeah, we can see that," Ares said, smirking. "And it looks like when they left, they took a chunk of the mountain with them."
"Hmph," Zeus grunted. "We march forward and upward, to the summit. They're here for Atlas, no doubt, and they cannot be allowed to free him."
The storm still raged around them, but Zeus was nothing short of the Master of his realm. They would not be bothered by wind or rain or even the forks of lightning which bit chunks out of the raw stone. The earth itself seemed to shake with thunder, and yet the sound rolled across them gently. There was no element of the air which was outside his control, and so when he began walking, the storm merely followed him like a pet and the carnage parted for him without his needing to do anything.
Despite the fact that he'd erased part of the mountain path, they found it again easily and began the climb. Once, long ago, he'd made a similar climb. He lead the charge while his brothers and nephew marched with him. Back then these paths were filled with an entire city in service to Kronos, and enemies had poured out of every single crevice to impede them.
Immortals and monsters, ancient things which he'd long ago destroyed and which the world hadn't seen since. The streets had run gold with blood and dust, and the screams of the dead and the dying echoed through the foothills below. The Elder Cyclopes and the Hundred-Handed ones had thrown stones the size of small buildings and crushed the ground defenses in their way, while they cut down all who would oppose them.
Ten years of war and strife, of trying to scratch a victory from the edge of defeat had changed them all, and by the time they'd made it to the base of Othrys they were long immune to the carnage they could wreak. They waded through the blood and ichor as simply as a puddle of water, and with every step they'd added to it. They kept their enemies on the retreat while the King of the world had awaited them at the top of the mountain, seated unafraid upon his throne and eager to receive them.
After having experienced that, Zeus felt no fear at what could await him this day at the summit.
The first thing to give him pause was the Garden of the Hesperides, and his footsteps seemed to stop involuntarily as soon as he entered. The grass, which was supposed to shimmer with a silver glow was blackened and scorched, and the once vibrant flowers were nothing but ash. The polished, black marble stepping stones were dull and cracked from the heat, and a massive pile of golden dust was all that remained of Ladon. The Hesperides were either dead, or else the enemy had found a way to free them because they were gone.
The massive tree, which was given to his wife as a tiny sapling by Gaia herself, was snapped off at the base and was still burning, while the bounty of golden apples were completely gone – not burned, but stolen.
He'd felt the death of Ladon clearly, but he never imagined that they would strip the Garden of all that it was and leave behind a burning husk – he assumed they'd simply killed the dragon to access the path on the other side. Of course, the Titans had always been greedy and destructive, so it shouldn't have surprised him, but for some reason the open disrespect aimed at his wife caused his anger to surge once more.
After only a brief pause to take in the destruction Zeus continued his march, though the lighting strikes which ate away at chunks of the mountain increased in both size and volume.
A pounding of footsteps approached from further up the path, and before he could respond Ares surged forward into the group. He wore the traditional plain armor he'd once favored in Greece, and wielded a xiphos that could barely be called by that name, as it was much longer than it should be. The younger God had never cared much for frills, and instead he preferred the simple, basic weapons of war. Functionality over appearance.
The enemy was made up of monsters, mostly, with a few malevolent nature spirits mixed among them. Giants and rogue cyclopes, as well as cursed creatures which perhaps were once mortal, but had been changed into something else.
Ares dove amongst them and, while they certainly weren't impressive foes, he still unleashed utter carnage upon them. He didn't use any of his raw energy, and instead weaved his weapon in a deadly pattern that left his enemies in pieces upon the path. They were barely able to dissolve before the next of their number met the same fate, and if one ignored the whirling God who stalked among them, the speed of their destruction nearly looked like dominoes falling from the nearest to the furthest.
Zeus and Hermes continued to progress up the mountain, following in Ares' trail of destruction. Once the enemy was spent and reduced to nothing the War God stopped and spat on the ground.
"Fucking trash," he muttered. "I can feel all these battles taking place, opponents clashing in the sea and elsewhere, and all of them seeming to have a better fight than these rats can offer."
There came a clatter of armored boots from just up the path, and despite the storm-clouds, the area was suddenly well lit from a shining source. Just ahead of them stood the towering form of Hyperion, Titan of the East, golden armor glowing with an inner light and with his blonde hair swept backwards. He was a hulking, muscle-bound figure, and he carried a bright golden sword which seemed to shine with all the light of the sun.
"If it's a fight you want, boy, you've found it," he said, looking upon the three of them with near disgust, though he showed no fear.
Zeus had no time for his games, and immediately attempted to call a bolt of lightning to smite the wretched creature. It looked as if it may hit, for a moment, but Hyperion never flinched. Instead, as it approached within a heartbeat, the lightning was drawn off course and struck a location nearly a hundred yards away from the enemy. Amidst the clap of thunder, Hyperion's expression showed a simple delight as he stared at the Gods.
"You've got to give it to the mortals. Useless as they are, even they're right occasionally." he said, laughing lowly. Suddenly the Titan burst into flames, a towering bonfire which seemed to melt the stones beneath his feet within seconds to a molten slag and which licked at all the surfaces around him. Then, he stepped forward to meet them.
Zeus wondered if he'd actually lost his mind to willingly face all three of them alone. That is until the ground buckled behind them and a spear nearly found it's mark in Zeus' back. The crackling form of his own Master Bolt appeared, a massive javelin raised to intercept the weapon.
He immediately noticed that his enemy held a spear made entirely of wood with glowing runes carved into it, and he frowned heavily once more.
Iapetus, also known as The Piercer grinned fiercely into his face, and in response Zeus forced more pressure onto their crossed weapons, and then snapped his left hand across in a backhand which sent his enemy crashing into the cliff face. Hyperion had reached Ares and engaged him, but before Hermes could make up his mind on who he'd join, he was suddenly bowled over by a massive, glowing ram which hit him with the speed of an arrow loosed from a bow, and Krios appeared at the foot of the path behind them.
"You assholes better not start without me," he growled.
Unlike what his King and his cousins faced in the west, Perseus had seen not a single sign of the Titans. He'd fallen upon the enemy artillery with only a fraction of his true strength, and yet it had broken like kindling. Separated as he'd been from the main force, it was easier for the larger behemoths to target him without risking their lives to the city guard, which numbered in the thousands.
They should have chosen differently.
The first of the larger creatures was a Kraken – the tentacles were massive, and far too wide to be sheared with a single strike of a sword blade alone. They were nearly as wide as buildings, with suction cups which could peel flesh from bones. The appendages were strong enough to rip the very largest sea-faring vessels downward with ease, and were long enough to wrap around the massive cargo ships of the mortal world several times over.
It attempted to loom over him and encircle him with it's sheer mass, blocking out the dim light which filtered down across the area. The water around Tmima bubbled quickly as Perseus crouched. With a sharp, arcing movement, he brought his blade in an upward strike. The shot of light illuminated the darkness, and the arcing energy tore through the enemy overhead with ease, while the water around him seemed to skyrocket in temperature. The Kraken shrieked as nearly half of it's tentacles were sheared in an instant, along with a small portion of the body itself, and the piercing wail faded quickly as the beast dissolved to nothing.
He heard a resounding roar from the city defenders down below the plateau he stood upon, and realized they'd seen the defeat of what – to them – would have been an enemy who's death would've cost hundreds of lives. He'd slaughtered the creature in seconds, and they were rallying to the small victory.
In truth it mattered very little, because the sea floor was filled with thousands of other enemies, and there was no shortage of massive sea monsters either. The death of one foe was, ultimately, very little progress. As he stared into the distance, he could see the inky blackness which hid the true enemy – Oceanus, and whomever he'd brought with him.
It was their deaths which would make a true difference. Should the Titans fall, their armies would be at the mercy of Poseidon and would be forced to lay down their weapons. Some of them would flee back into the deeps, and many of them would likely be destroyed. Of course that was assuming Atlantis was the victor. If they lost, the city would be devoured and the occupants would likely become just another part of the food chain to satiate the hunger of the monstrous creatures beneath Oceanus' banner.
To be truthful, Perseus feared that outcome very little. It was very unlikely that Poseidon would be less than a match for Oceanus, and with himself and Athena present, the three of them were fully capable of handling the Titan of the sea along with several of his brothers. Triton would fight and lead the armies of Atlantis while they focused on more direct threats, and the city would hold. It would be a foolish mistake of the enemy to take the city prematurely as well, because the proximity of his people was all that protected them from the full wrath of the Poseidon.
Instead, what Perseus felt was the more pressing issue was the hundreds of creatures ravaging Camp Half-Blood, and he wasn't allowed to aid them by order of the King. Several of those he swore to protect had fallen already, and there was nothing he could do. He no longer felt Artemis there as he had before – she was now Diana, and was in Rome with a similar warning to the one she brought the Greeks.
Rome could weather the storm, he knew, but the Greeks had been slowly dwindled to nearly nothing over the years. They were more free spirited and spread out than the Romans, and because of that they'd been slowly picked apart. The heroes were dying younger and younger, and unless things changed…
He shook his head, and knew that he was just wasting time. He needed to keep moving.
Perseus could feel the other battles happening around him, the echoes of armies clashing floating harshly upon the currents and the energy of his father clouding the water so that the finer details were hidden to divine senses. The defense mechanisms were useful for hiding things from Oceanus but they weren't so precise that they didn't effect everyone else too. Perhaps his mother or his siblings could sense things through their familiarity with the area, but Perseus found himself blind to all but that which he could see with his eyes.
It was for this reason that he very nearly beheaded his own brother when he suddenly appeared behind him. Tmima was held with a sharp clang within the forks of a large trident, though the weapon didn't have nearly the presence that their father's did.
Triton – his younger brother and crown prince of the sea. God of the Waves, Messenger of the Seas and second only to Poseidon himself within the oceans of the world. He had many of the same abilities as their father, Perseus knew, and carried twice the arrogance.
He held the glowing blade with his trident easily – his strength was truly unmatched within the sea – and Perseus saw that he looked much the same as he did centuries ago. The face of a relatively young man in his late twenties, with green skin and long black hair tied back away from his face. Heavy plates of armor covered his upper half, while his lower merged together similar to other mermen, though he boasted two tails instead of one.
"Astraeus, I see you've decided to step down from your lofty perch and grace us lesser beings with your presence," Triton snarked. "Come to save the day, hero?"
Perseus snorted, withdrawing his blade. "Envy doesn't suit you, little brother. Your skin is green enough already. Might want to get that looked at."
"And replace it with what?" the younger God questioned, his lip curled slightly. "A human appearance? A lower insult you'd be hard-pressed to find. As if I would have any common traits with the scum of the surface world."
Well, it wasn't surprising that Triton was the same as he'd ever been. His disdain for mortals was a thing of near legend, and he'd nearly rioted when he learned they were to be allowed access to the oceans of the world. He would prefer to drown them all, and he wasn't above summoning waves and rip-currents to do just that. He held an ancient attachment to the Golden Race, but when they faded he had only viewed the new races of humanity with contempt as they failed to live up to those who came before.
The merpeople were beloved to him, but humans were so far beneath his notice as to be vermin. There had never – and would never – be a demigod born from Triton.
"Still harboring old prejudices?" Perseus asked, unable to resist needling him. "Haven't you heard that this is an era of inclusivity and equality? The humans have even learned to create submarines to join you in this lovely realm."
For the first time, Triton looked amused. "Yes, they do tend to pop quite easily. That brief moment of terror before the sea devours them...truly a staple of modern entertainment. I hear they even try to join you amongst the endless expanse. I also hear that you've made them regret that decision multiple times. Perhaps you and I aren't so different, hm? Or perhaps that was the...better half of you. I still can't believe you mutilated your own essence to such a degree."
His separation of the other part of himself wasn't something that was mentioned to him so obviously, and the other Gods tended to avoid the subject. Triton, it would seem, had little care for it. Even when the Gods moved to Rome he hadn't changed anything. Not his name, and certainly not his own personality or traits.
"I mean, you literally severed your own essence, and the pain alone must have been unimaginable. Now, you stand before me claiming the name given to you by a human woman, while our mother has to look upon a faded version of her favorite son. Truly, you've fallen quite low, and it isn't any wonder you find yourself still without a wife or children. No self respecting Goddess would chain herself to half a man, and certainly not one I raised." Triton said, his words purposefully cutting.
The mention of Athena was a low blow and they both knew it. The amusement Perseus felt at the beginning of their banter faded sharply, and for just an instant he allowed himself the brief thought of cutting Triton with words just as harsh and biting. There was a low blow he knew he could return, and yet his dead niece was not something he could ever use to try and get a leg up in an argument.
Instead, Perseus raised an eyebrow at him. "If there's any truth in your words, then it's all the more shameful for you, rather than me little brother. If I am half a man, as you claim, and yet I sit above you in the eyes of our mother and the world as a whole, then what does that make you? Even as a full entity, you fall into my shadow."
Triton's eyes narrowed, and his hand visibly clenched on his weapon. Suddenly, he thrust the trident to his right, and the weapon bucked as a massive wash of sea-green energy leapt from the tip. It traveled over the armies clashing below, and impacted a massive Leviathan which was descending on a chariot. The creature erupted, transforming into a school of tiny fish which scattered immediately.
"Be careful with your words here, Astraeus," he said lowly. "Father wants you in the city, immediately. West barracks. All members of command are summoned for war council."
Triton left quickly. A powerful thrust of his tails saw him moving with a supernatural speed through the water, likely to deliver the same summons to other members of Poseidon's command structure. Meanwhile, Perseus stood on the plateau overlooking the battlefield and wished he were literally anywhere else. He'd stayed away from his immediate family for a reason, and if Triton was harsh then it would say nothing of Kym, who was likely even now in the city.
Rhode, perhaps, would be more reasonable, but she was very distant and may not even be in Atlantis at the moment. She was still mourning the loss of her husband, even after so many thousands of years. And as for his mother…
Perseus sighed, shaking his head and leaping from the ledge to the seabed below. It wouldn't hurt to take out some more enemies and drag his feet a little on the way to the city.
The battle at Camp Half-Blood was going better than it originally started, but it was still worse than they could've hoped. The monsters had surged from the south, hellhounds and cyclopes, along with several Laistrygonian giants. Scythian dracanae had also come, as had empousai who were supposed to be under the control of Hecate. Why they were attacking with the other monsters was something they couldn't explain, and the campers had no time to think much about it.
Already they'd lost several campers to the attack. Things had turned around recently and so far as Thalia knew none of the campers had fallen after the first waves had been beaten back, but the early clash had been costly. The hardest part seemed to be keeping their eyes off the dead campers who were being trampled beneath the monsters feet.
Chris Rodriguez was dead, she knew for certain. Thalia watched his head get caved in by a giant's club. He'd taken the place in the shield wall of an injured son of Hephaestus – Max Turner – and he hadn't stood there for more than a moment before he lowered his shield too far out of position. The monsters were merciless, and she was pretty certain Bryce was now covered in the older boy's blood.
His spot was filled quickly, their training coming into play, but they'd all been shaken and it had cost them two more campers before Chiron's roar had brought them back into focus. He'd been shoring up the defenses where he was able, darting between the archers and the front lines, alternating between the bow which he favored, and a long sword that was normally held by cavalry.
Thalia grunted as the weight against her shield seemed to double, and she surged some extra strength into it to hold position while her spear darted forth, crackling with electricity. The cyclopes fell with a shout of pain, but he was replaced faster than the fallen campers – the monsters merely trampled their own as they began to dissolve into dust.
"Hold!" Mark shouted from her right. "Brace from behind, left side!"
The line was wavering on the left, and they couldn't afford for it to break. The archers and the Athena campers were covering their flanks, but if that half of the shield wall buckled, they'd lose dozens before they could reform. They barely had fifty campers to begin with. The bulk of their number weren't year rounders and were currently scattered across the country, and so even a few losses would be crippling.
They were given some relief as the satyrs made a charge from the left and slammed into the enemy forces, relieving pressure on the shield wall which surged back into place. They paid for it in blood however, and Thalia felt a distant clench in her chest as she watched Grover – the nervous satyr who'd lead them to camp, and who still occasionally hung out with Annabeth – get pounced on by several hellhounds. She turned her eyes away quickly, but she still heard him screaming.
The monsters were falling by the dozen, but they just kept coming. She saw them begin to surge around toward the right flank, and hoped they were well-braced there. Behind them were the support lines and the injured, and both Nico and Annabeth were likely over there. There wasn't anything she could do, however. To abandon her place in the shield wall would see it buckle completely.
There was a shout from the enemy, something like fear, and suddenly they were fleeing from the right side. Following them were dozens of thin, shambling skeletons which ran headlong into the monsters and began hacking at them with their chipped and cracked weapons.
Nico…
He was the only one who could be commanding the dead so readily, and she feared for him because of it. There were more than forty skeletons, maybe closer to sixty, and she knew for a fact that he wasn't normally capable of summoning half as many. He was young and his powers were untested. He shouldn't be pushing himself so hard.
"Heave!" Mark called sharply, apparently wanting to take advantage of their good fortune from both the right and left assault. Thalia complied, bracing her feet and allowing that inner energy to flare through her, increasing her strength.
Properly braced, she along with the other campers flung the front line of enemies away from them and opened the shield wall briefly. Spears darted forth with deadly accuracy, and monsters turned to dust which scattered in the wind. The shields lowered in a well-practiced movement just as the next line slammed into them.
"Heave!" Mark roared again, his voice thundering across the battlefield. He was launching the monsters twice as far as the rest of them, and his spear was piercing nearly three times as many before his shield folded back into position.
Mark was in his element, she knew. War like this, as terrible as it was, was something that was just in the blood of the children of Ares. So far as she knew, not a single member of Cabin 6 had fallen, and they weren't even close to tiring. They made up the strong center of the shield wall for a very good reason.
"Heave!" he roared again, this time even louder.
The pace continued for a while, but once more the enemy began to take the advantage as they finally overcame the satyrs and the skeletons, and once more tried to surge around the sides. Their defense of the camp was good – probably a hundred times more effective for all of Athena's training – but they were just too few to keep this up. They needed numbers, more than anything.
Feeling the hopelessness of the situation, Thalia released her iron grip on the clouds above, and allowed the harsh winds to sweep from left to right, knocking some of the monsters into a tighter group in the center. Then, careful about her own aim to minimize the risk to campers, she grunted as she pulled the energy from the sky.
Crackling flashes of lightning pounded at the enemy, and their screams of pain and fear swept over the battlefield along with the roar of thunder. She was only able to manage four strikes before the enemy tried to flee right into them and her focus was taken by the shield wall again. The clouds settled, and she was once more stuck in a deadlock with the monsters.
She couldn't unleash the full strength of her powers with so many allies close by. The storm would be indiscriminate in its wrath, and she was just as likely to kill campers as she was monsters. She needed space, and they needed reinforcements, neither of which were coming any time soon.
At least that was her original assumption. It was shattered, however, by the low, echoing tone of a horn from the west. Before the campers could comprehend what was happening, silver arrows rained from the right at a deadly pace and tore into the enemy army with abandon. The silver parkas of the Hunters tore out of the woods running at speeds which the campers just couldn't match. Again the horn blew, closer and louder, a challenging sound to announce their arrival.
Leading the charge was the one Thalia knew to be their lieutenant, Zoë Nightshade, and she was firing arrows even as she sprinted. Just before she met the army she leaped high above them, where she fired twice more from the air, before falling into the center of the monsters with blades drawn.
Author's Note: CH 17, which mostly is an introduction to the true beginning of the war. Battles on three fronts, and while it was somewhat brief, we do get a minor look at Atlantis.
I'm not going to go into depth here, as the chapter was pretty self explanatory. Next Chapter we will see more from each of these, and it will be similar in length, though now that the scenes are set I can go into much further detail with each one. It will explore the relationships in Atlantis, and will see Zeus and his sons finally at war along with more from the demigods.
As always, thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed. Review if you want to, don't if you don't.