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.
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Discord server created for Astraeus – A place for Q&A, as well as general discussion of the story and somewhere I will be posting upcoming dates that I plan to update. I will also post there if there is a delay in my schedule, as well as try to take time to speak to people who enjoy the story so far, and even those who take issue with it.
Anyway, thanks to everyone supporting my work and on with the show!
Chapter Thirteen
Arc 1 Finale – Part 1
The beach which marked the edge of the Long Island Sound was far enough away to give the illusion of privacy, though it was a facade which was easily broken by the faint, carrying sound of more than a hundred teenagers going about their normal daily activities. Still, the water was calm and the temperature was mild, and Perseus allowed himself a single moment of peace as he finally got a small measure of time to spend with his daughter.
"Breathe, slowly, and don't force it," he instructed gently, his hand resting beneath hers. Atlanta had both hands outstretched and cupped as if she were trying to hold onto a fistful of water, but instead of actual liquid a glowing mixture of white fire and light rested on her palms. "It's similar to summoning any other type of starlight, and you feed it with your own energy, allowing it to pulse and flow. You can time it with your breath, if it helps. Only this time it needs to be separated from your skin. Don't allow it to flow around your hand, but instead keep it compressed into a fine point just above it."
She was doing well, and the fact that he was supposed to be working with the other demigods in this time-slot was ignored in favor of the one he almost never got to interact with. Atlanta was excellent at controlling her abilities, though she'd practiced navigation more than any other. The opportunity to work with her directly was a rare one, and he found it far more rewarding than watching one of Demeter's kids learn proper shielding techniques.
"It's more difficult than I thought," she huffed, her face locked into an expression of concentration. "I've never tried to separate it from my skin in a focused way. It always seemed too dangerous."
"It can be," Perseus agreed. "If you compress it too tightly, or feed it too much energy, it can be extremely dangerous. However, once your ready, I'll show you how it can become much easier."
"I think I have it," she muttered. "Not sure if it'll last, but I have it contained."
"Good," he praised. "Now call to Leo. The whistle will act as a focal point, but he'll hear you even if you aren't using it normally. The whistle allows him to draw on my strength and find you, but if you're already using starlight, he can follow the trail quite easily. Just make sure that when you do, you don't feed any more energy into your focal point. Keep it steady and even while you call for him."
He watched her take a deep breath, and on the exhale, she whispered "Leo."
The light in her hands pulsed, and Perseus prepared himself to take control if she lost hers, but it wasn't necessary. She was always careful with starlight, and kept it reigned in as the formless mass took shape in her palm to reveal a tiny, glowing lion. The creature looked around curiously, and Perseus was amused to realize that Leo had likely never been summoned into such a miniature form.
"It's...stable," Atlanta remarked with wonder. "I can feel the energy feeding him, but I'm not struggling to hold the shape anymore."
"Leo will hold his own shape, so long as you provide the energy for him," Perseus responded. "Put him down on the sand, and we'll increase his size slightly." She did as he asked, and then took a step back. "Now, he's still feeding on your energy, so to make him larger he just needs a bit more of it. Just be careful. Too much energy would have him burning bright enough to turn this beach to glass."
Atlanta took a deep breath once more, and then she seemed to relax, becoming more comfortable with the situation as she fed more of herself into the lion. The response was nearly immediate, and the tiny constellation swelled in size to be eye level with her waist. The creature let out a chuffing noise, shaking his head and approaching so that he could rub against her with enough force to nearly knock her over.
Her startled laugh drew a similar response from Perseus, and the flickering white fire didn't harm her at all. He would never allow that. She crouched and bunched her hands into his mane with reverence, allowing Leo to greet her as the celestial energy flowed through her fingers.
"He'll always come when you call," Perseus assured her. "He's your Guardian now, for as long you need him."
"I wish he could always stay with me, but at this rate I'll only be able to keep him here for a short time," she said, and he saw her wistful expression.
"He can't always be here, but he's only a call away," Perseus responded. "You can practice with him, with his size and his strength. Just make sure Artemis is around in case you lose control. He won't hurt you but he could accidentally hurt others, or destroy his surroundings. She at least can contain him and send him back to the stars should that happen. Once you get some practice, fell free to call him whenever you like."
Perseus realized that she wasn't likely to release him on her own at the moment. He absently waved his hand and Leo faded from view as the light within him flickered and shrunk to nothing. "That's enough training for today. It's beautiful out, and the seas are calm. You should enjoy yourself."
She was quiet for a moment, raising to join him in looking out over the Sound. Finally she decided to speak. "Things are going to get really bad, aren't they?"
"They are," he agreed, unwilling to lie to her. "This world we built was never prepared for what it faces now. It wasn't supposed to happen. When we learned of a possible threat, we never for a moment imagined how large that threat could become. We assumed we'd face war, and that we'd stand across from enemies who had no clue just who they'd decided to challenge. We were wrong."
Perhaps it wasn't best for him to be admitting their faults so openly, but Atlanta was someone he knew he could trust with absolute certainty. She lived with a Goddess, and so she knew better than most that they weren't infallible. She'd witnessed enough of his own faults over the years to understand that he wasn't perfect either.
"The enemy...they aren't spoken of, except in memory of their defeat," she said, and he saw her turn to face him in his peripheral. "Even back in the homeland. We learned their names, as a warning to any who would stand against Olympus."
"The ones who stood before Olympus...they aren't something even we like to remember," Perseus responded. "When we made our first assault on them, we very nearly didn't walk away from it. We'd heard of their strength, and we'd felt their cruelty, but we never imagined just how overwhelming it could be. We were young, myself no older than the children here at camp, and we were idealistic. We thought, no, we knew that we could rule this world better than they could. We just had to take it from them."
He knew she was listening intently, likely never having heard the true story from someone who'd lived it. If she had, it hadn't come from him. Perseus wasn't exaggerating when he claimed they didn't like to remember it.
"Gaia spoke to us, told us of their strengths and their weaknesses. She told us how to strike them, and where. She convinced us to rescue her imprisoned sons, the Elder Cyclopes and the Hekatonkheires, and in turn we were rewarded with weapons to wage war on those who would claim to be our Masters. We were prideful, she'd made sure of it, and it was a good thing that we were. If we'd have had an ounce of doubt in our hearts, we would have failed on that very first day."
"As you know we won eventually, but it was a near thing. Had the Crooked One taken the field, rather than wait within his fortress for us to come to him, history would likely be very different. He gained an obscene amount of power when he killed his father and took the throne, and I'm still not certain exactly how Zeus summoned the strength to overcome him."
"But things are different now, right?" Atlanta asked, and he wished he could ease her mind. "There isn't just the four of you anymore. Lady Artemis will fight, as will the other Gods. We can win."
"We can," said Perseus, and he did believe that to be true. "But it won't be so easy as you may believe. Our numbers have grown, but so have theirs. Many who refused to stand with them back then, do so now. And they're no longer on the defensive. They'll attack, and our victory will depend on how we weather that assault."
That was without mentioning that Gaia no longer stood with them. Her aid, and her influence with those who would have perhaps become their enemies was incalculable. She no longer approved of their rule, and she slept eternally anyway. If she were awake, it was likely she'd once more plant whispers in the effort to crush a King, and her aid would be lent to her children she once detested.
Still, this wasn't the conversation he wanted to have with her. War would come, and they would meet it. The moments he was allowed with his daughter were so very few that he didn't want to waste any more of them talking about depressing things.
"Enough of that," he said absently, waving a hand as if to brush off the heavy subject. "Tell me about something more interesting. You and Clarisse seemed to get along well. Has she given you one of her personal nicknames yet?"
Atlanta snorted quietly, turning her face away, though her resigned amusement was fairly obvious. "She kept calling me Miss Perfect after I was able to solve some of our problems. It's ridiculous."
Perseus chuckled in response. "She once called me Prissius when she thought I couldn't hear." Atlanta's expression was slightly scandalized, though she couldn't hide her amusement completely. "It's a term of endearment. Mostly. I think. She picked it up from her dad, who almost never uses someone's proper name. Ever since some mortal began calling people 'Punk' back in the sixteenth century, he hasn't called me anything else."
Atlanta winced slightly in revulsion, and he reminded himself that she was old enough to know the original meaning of that word. Probably not the best conversation piece, come to think of it.
"It's crass, but he mostly uses it to try and pick a fight with me," Perseus said. "He's not happy unless someone's ready to punch him in the face, so the two of them probably have a little more in common than either of them would admit."
"She...Clarisse is a good friend," Atlanta said quietly. "She saved my life more than once, and we worked well together. I hope she accepts Lady Artemis' offer to join us."
Perseus scoffed, though he was smirking. "She's always trying to steal the best from my camp. I should limit her access to them, I think."
"Well, it should tell you something that the 'best from your camp' are girls, then, shouldn't it?" Atlanta asked, a small smile tugging the corner of her lip. "The boys should probably step it up."
"Fair point, I suppose, though some of them may surprise you," he responded. "Still, I'm happy that the two of you were able to come back in good health, all things considered."
Atlanta nodded agreeably. "Things could've been much worse. I'll be happy to be home with my sisters, even if we are to become scouts for the coming conflict. Lady Artemis says that we'll likely be sent into the wild to observe whatever intelligence we can gather and bring it to the Council."
"Most likely," Perseus agreed. "We'll know more after the meeting this afternoon. Her allowances place her in a unique position for the role, and having you girls to help her only adds to that."
They were silent for a few moments, and Perseus allowed himself to once more absorb the freedom for what it was. He'd never been a very good father, always absent and generally unable to help when it truly counted, but he enjoyed these small moments that often seemed like they lasted only seconds in his memories. He remembered almost every moment he spent with his children and clung to them with a sense of ferocity. It was something of a struggle thinking of how to relate to them most of the time, but he wouldn't give up those brief periods for anything.
It was Atlanta who finally broke the silence once more.
"This conflict, with Hades...and now with his son…" she fished, almost appearing hesitant to ask.
"It's complicated," he answered honestly. "It began as a small thing, and it's seemed to snowball into something nearly out of control. I never meant for any of it."
And wasn't that the truth. In the beginning with Thalia's arrival at camp, he'd done all that he could to avoid war. Now he was actively participating and the consequences were compounding each other. There didn't seem to be a clear avenue for reconciliation, at least not while he still wanted Hades and his head to be separated from one another. His uncle seemed to want the same for him, likely in a bid to reclaim a position he felt was owed to him, but had never been his in the first place.
Still, even without having meant to take things so far, Hades had crossed a line and Perseus couldn't allow it to go unanswered. The arbitrary way in which he attempted to lay claim to dead children had cost him a son, and Perseus truly hoped it taught him some type of lesson, though he found it doubtful.
"Can I ask what drove it to this extreme?" she questioned. "It's just...I haven't known you to take things this far for a very long time. Not since Mother…"
Perseus wondered if he should tell her. She knew of Deirdre, though she never met her younger sister. She was with Artemis in northern Europe when everything happened. Still, it was partially her right to know, and would add extra incentive to keep her away from Hades.
"Hades...he's decided that the dead are to be his weapons in every sense of the word," he finally said. "He summoned one of your fallen siblings to the living world in order to torment me. I refuse to allow that to stand."
The girl seemed to choke all at once. "My brothers…?"
That...that singular thought seemed to flush a chill through his body, and Perseus paused at the alien sensation. With everything that'd happened he hadn't given much thought to it, but there were others in the Underworld...others who would be so very useful to Hades should he decide to continue with his blasphemy.
"No, though I can't rule it out at this point," he admitted stiffly, and suddenly the thought of Hades summoning one of her fallen brothers to torment her passed through his mind. One of his sons gifted to him by Rania, possibly used to torture or attack his only living child...or even Rania herself…
The dead belonged to Hades in every way, aside from a few exceptions, and within the bowels of the Underworld rested the souls who could be crippling to his enemies. Rania was there, somewhere, and had been for a very long time. Did his uncle have her, even now, at his beck and call? Andromeda rested in the stars, far beyond the reach of Hades, but she was the only one…
The sudden urge to make for California seemed to steal over him with a vengeance. The amount of ammunition at Hades' disposal was near infinite, and he couldn't be allowed to make a move in that direction. The sensation was nearly alien to him. It was beyond anger – it was purpose. To march upon the Underworld with a cold calculation and cut down anyone or anything that stood before him. To summon the Guardians and wage his war into the heart of the Underworld itself.
To conquer it, and to sit upon the black throne and call it all his own. Where nothing that was lost to him in death could be used against him ever again…
He shook off the sensation quickly, but the suddenness of it was unnerving. It reminded him of before, of the First War when he marched on Mount Othrys and cut down anyone in his path. Of mountain streets filled with bodies and blood and golden dust and ichor. Of burning and screaming and the inexorable march forward and upward to the summit, his blade seeking the blood of his relatives who called themselves Titans.
He was no stranger to waging war on his family, but he hadn't felt that way in a very long time. The coldness, the detached need to win at any cost. That wasn't him anymore, he'd separated that part of himself long ago. There was a reason – beyond his memory of a mortal life – why he called himself Perseus.
"Father…?" Atlanta asked, looking at him with a sense of alarm. "Are you...alright?"
"I'm fine," he answered automatically, not that he was likely to tell her if he wasn't. She didn't need to worry for him. "Just passing thoughts."
Atlanta nodded uncertainly, though he noticed she didn't look convinced. Instead of acknowledging it, they both turned their eyes back toward the sea in peaceful silence. She didn't mention how his form had flickered between his normal appearance and the other one, and he didn't tell her that the urge to wage a war that would likely horrify even her was still resting just beneath the surface.
Within the depths of the Underworld, the dark palace of Hades seemed to thrust upward from the core of the world itself. Obsidian and onyx merged together to create sheer walls which stood high above any other structure as far as the eye could see, and the entire realm appeared to begin with the monolithic fortress as it's center, while everything else that existed grew in all directions from that point.
It was a creation that struck awe and terror in equal measure upon the souls who crossed the River Styx at Charon's sufferance. The palace was visible from nearly anywhere, and its walls reached toward the cavernous ceilings overhead like the points of a massive crown in the center, while dark, lower walls broken up by black towers and golden gates surrounded the structure of the realm's God.
At the very peak of the palace, overlooking all of the Underworld, was a massive throne of darkness with a view which could peer at every inch of the realm – from the sprawling Field of Asphodel and Punishment, to the haven that was Elysium and, most especially, the three Isles of the Blest which housed those who were the most favored by both life and death.
The towering seat was empty, however, and Hades instead found himself within the heart of his palace in the much more appropriate throne room suitable for holding court. To his left was the throne of his wife and queen, Persephone, though she was still in the living world with her mother and it was vacant. He knew with recent events being what they were, he'd be getting an earful when she finally returned home in the fall. She always hated when he caused mass destruction, even if indirectly.
Despite their...unconventional start to their marriage, Persephone was reliable however. She would stand at his side as she'd always done, and she would support him in his goals, even if she didn't approve of his methods.
Instead of focusing on his absent wife, Hades instead turned his attention to his guests. He was joined by his lieutenant, Thanatos, as well as Styx, who's purple and black dressed billowed around her pale form like volcanic smoke. Hades had always found her appearance rather appealing, though he knew better than to admit that within earshot of his queen.
Charon was present, and for once he wasn't bitching about anything. The other four River Gods were also in attendance – Acheron, Phlegethon, Lethe and Cocytus. He'd called for the Fates, who normally liked to attend his court, but they hadn't showed. It wasn't like he could make them do anything anyway, so he wasn't bothered. He was enacting their will, as he'd sworn to do, and Hades knew that if they wanted him to do anything differently they didn't really need to tell him anyway. They wove the Great Tapestry after all – everyone would enact their will eventually, even Gods.
"I see you've recovered well, Lord Hades," Thanatos observed, eyeing him critically.
He had, for the most part. The battle had been very favorable for him up until the final moments, but that was the nature of war. Victory, no matter how seemingly assured, could be snatched away in the span of a heartbeat. He was injured still, and because of that he wouldn't be getting up from is throne in front of anyone. Not because he couldn't, but because he would never allow them to see just how much his injuries affected him.
He was still healing from Zeus and his damn lightning rod, only to be run over by Krios' pet, and then nearly crushed to death and vaporized by a meteor which was likely traveling in excess of 50,000 mph and heated to nearly 3,000 degrees. Those were the estimates of a naturally occurring impact as far as the mortals had recorded. The fact that it was ripped from the heavens by a divine being meant that he had no accurate frame of reference. It allowed him enough information to know that, had he been hit more directly, the very next time he opened his eyes would've been in Tartarus.
Astraeus was proving to be formidable, even in his lesser state.
Still, unwilling to allow his own injuries to be speculated about, Hades brushed aside his comment with the absent wave of a hand. "It's nothing I can't deal with. I was prepared for any eventuality, though I did expect your presence in Colorado to stop the worm's escape. Capturing one of them would have been extremely useful."
Thanatos shook his head negatively once. "I couldn't leave. We knew that my entrance to Olympus was likely to delay me unavoidably, but I honestly didn't expect the reception I received. Zeus was, as you predicted, annoyed but willing to have me stand in for you. It was the others who caused an issue once he left. Athena's intervention wasn't something I could predict, even while we were sure that Artemis and Apollo were likely to be a problem. Most of the others refused to get involved."
Hades stared at him with a raised brow, tilting his head. So, this is what they meant. Often the words of the Fates were difficult to decipher, but he had a great many years to practice. His surprise was only momentary, however.
"It matters very little, truth be told," he answered after a moment. "It might even aid our efforts, though I'll have to think on it some more. Athena's alliance with Astraeus might very well be brief, as they aren't known to work well together, and if not then she'll have to be included in our plans and calculations moving forward."
"And what are those plans, exactly?" Phlegethon asked, his tone rather bored. Hades caught the way that his voice alone seemed to command the attention of Styx, and he found it slightly amusing that her schoolgirl crush seemed to have a hold on her, even after so many millennia. "You still haven't told us what all of this is about."
"Because it doesn't concern you," Hades answered blandly. "I trust each and every one of you to carry out the tasks I give you, but that doesn't mean that I'm willing to tell you everything. The Fates have ordered that I keep my silence. It's necessary for their will to be achieved. That is all that you must know."
"On the contrary, fracturing Olympus at a time of war concerns me very much," said Styx, frowning. "I serve in your court, but only at my own discretion. My primary loyalty has always been, and will remain with Olympus. You were there to witness that I was the first to swear myself to this Pantheon before all others. There is a limit to how far I'll allow myself to stretch that oath, before I'm forced to confess to Zeus as my King."
Hades did know that. Navigating the various loyalties and relationships was always going to be his greatest challenge in this endeavor, and only his own sworn oath he'd given that he wasn't looking to take the crown from his brother, or see the Titans to victory had allowed him to ask for their silence in these matters. Still, it was necessary, and he would see it through.
"I understand, though you must also see that I'm following the will of the Moirai," he responded. "All of this must come to pass, as is their command."
"And once more you must be the villain," Thanatos commented, a tiny frown creasing his mouth. "Once more it is you who must sacrifice all, while the rest sit high above us and peer down with disdain. They call you oath-breaker and betrayer, and they stare down from their mountain thrones with contempt and believe themselves correct in their original mistrust of you."
Hades laughed. "Gods you have enough angst for a teenage girl, Thanatos," he commented. "What makes you think that would ever bother me? Like I give a damn what Zeus and his uncounted children think." He shook his head and once more waved absently. "No, I'm perfectly content to be the boogeyman they fear, always searching the shadows that I might step out of at any moment. Fearful of where they speak because they never know if I'm listening from the darkness. It is...quite amusing."
"And you crave dramatics just as much as your brother," muttered Chiron. He immediately shut up when Hades pinned him with a dark stare.
"If you aren't worried, then it shouldn't bother you that Astraeus has gained himself a champion," said Styx, a slight smirk tilting her mouth dangerously. "An oath was given to me just this morning – and your son Nico is now sworn to the Stars."
Hades frowned, allowing that thought to pass through his mind for a moment. Suddenly, he chuckled again, he couldn't help himself. The laugh seemed to just slip out. It seemed the Fates were truly on his side in return for seeing that their tasks be completed. Thanatos didn't share in his amusement.
"As I understood it, we were to expect your child to be our emissary in the mortal world," he said, confusion weighing in his expression. "How exactly is this amusing to you?"
"Did you think with everything going on, that I'd place all of my plans on the generosity of the Olympians? That I would expect them to uphold a bargain with me after everything?" Hades asked, still fighting off his laughter. "No, I fully expected to be defeated in that arena. It was more of a surprise that Zeus was willing to allow that demand to be heard in the first place."
"The hands of the Fates are obvious in this," Hades continued. "Had my son been forced to swear Zeus and Poseidon's ridiculous oath, he would've been unable to aid our plans without jumping through some particularly challenging loopholes. However, asking for that and insisting on it made them believe that Nico's future in service to me was my primary objective. It's drawing focus from the true nature of my actions."
"And how is your son serving Astraeus, in whom you've made a powerful enemy, in any way beneficial to us?" asked Lethe shrewdly. Despite her innate nature of forgetfulness, she was surprisingly sharp.
"It isn't directly beneficial to us, but neither is it harmful to my plans," Hades said truthfully. "Nico isn't something to worry yourselves over."
The actual truth was that he owed the Fates a debt of gratitude. Following through with their tasks was necessary, but it wasn't always pleasant. When he learned that his children may pay the price for his actions he hadn't been happy, but like he always had before, he justified it to himself with the knowledge that they were never far from his reach. Even in death. Now, both of his children would at least be offered a measure of protection in the war to come. Both of the children which carried with them the final piece of Maria left to the mortal world were now sworn to an Olympian, and while that would endanger them in some ways, it was also a shield that would afford them far more protection than he could reasonably offer.
It eased his burdens somewhat to know that they would be as safe as they could possibly be, and he couldn't ask for more. Of course, he couldn't admit any of it, and Hades would have to respond to his dear nephew as if the insult were as grave as the little shit meant for it to be, but that could wait for the moment.
"Besides, you're doing exactly as the Olympians have done, and falling into the same trap," Hades continued. "I said that my mortal child would serve our interests in the living world, but I never said specifically which one. The Olympians, and now you, focused too heavily on just one aspect of the equation."
Unlike the other Gods, who remained somewhat hindered by their divided forms, Hades had no such weakness. A simple flex of his energy, and Hades became Pluto in the blink of an eye. Unable to retain their current forms in the face if his own power, the rest of them shifted – unwillingly – to their Roman counterparts. Thanatos became Letum, and his wings which were once multicolored became a deep, dark black and seemed to swell to twice their original size.
"Come, Hazel," Pluto commanded, flicking his wrist and causing the massive doors to open and admit a young, teenage girl. She had dark skin and curly, cinnamon brown hair with piercing gold eyes. The girl was decorated richly with jewels and a long, intricate black dress which spoke of an older time, and looked every bit the part of a young princess.
"You called, father?" she asked, a tiny hint of an accent modifying her speech.
"It seems Rome has need of you," Pluto responded. "Charon will see you to the living world. Make for the Wolf House and see Lupa. I'll contact you soon with further instructions."
He'd already put pressure on one side, it was now time to pressure the other. Hazel would serve as an excellent distraction, as well as the perfect scalpel for his needs. Rome would be a more dangerous undertaking, as his opponent there would be far more deadly even if he was generally less involved with the camp as a whole, but it was necessary.
The will of the Fates would be done, as he'd sworn in both aspects.
The dark, nearly black waters yawned before him as Poseidon stood upon a cliff which overlooked the deepest regions of his territory. An inky, cavernous view greeted him and appeared as if the world beneath the sea merely ended, and as if it were the void itself stretching before him. He was fully armored, Trident in hand, and as strong as his appearance made him seem, he still couldn't help but feel a sense of trepidation steal over him.
Somewhere, out there, his enemy waited with an endless patience and an insatiable hunger to reclaim all of his territory. Large creatures were stirring, things that the mortal world had never seen or even imagined, and he could just feel them on the edge of his consciousness. They were gathering in great numbers somewhere, and all were rallying to the call of Oceanus.
Miles and miles away his subjects went about daily life in Atlantis, and they were unaware that an enemy was gathering strength enough to crush the ancient, sunken city and reduce everything he'd built to rubble and ruin. They would fall upon his beloved city with hunger and greed, and none would stand with him to defend it in the same way they would stand with Olympus. Poseidon knew he would face this threat alone, aside from his wife and younger son.
There were other sea deities, but any who would stand at his side were nothing compared to Oceanus, and truthfully Poseidon wasn't sure exactly how he himself would measure against the ancient Titan. His uncle had remained neutral in the first war, and when they claimed their victory over their enemies, Poseidon had the backing of his siblings to lay claim over the sea. Oceanus, in the face of their overwhelming strength, conceded the seas to him and retreated without a fight.
This...this would be different.
Everyone was concerned for the defense of Olympus, and rightfully so, but they were far less willing to defend the sea. It could very well be their undoing. If Oceanus won against him and took full control over the sea, he would have them fully surrounded and pinned in to the North American landmass. He would be easily capable of flooding it slowly, until they were all caged like animals into Olympus itself. From there, their defeat would be all but certain.
He needed allies, and yet the thought of asking for them weighed so heavily upon his pride that he wasn't sure he could actually go through with it. Atlantis was his to rule, and his to defend. He'd promised his people that he alone would stand above all others and assure their safety and prosperity. He sat upon a throne as their King, and they trusted in him to defend their home and their way of life.
The surface people were foreign to them, unnatural and strange. The Atlanteans cared nothing for Olympus, or anything else above the waves, and their faith in him was rooted in the certainty that none could match their King and their God within the oceans of the world. That faith and that knowledge may very well prove false.
"You're dwelling again," a soft voice said, disturbing the currents around him slightly. Tiny bubbles formed, churning around, and then his Queen stood at his side, lovely as ever while the thousands of tiny air pockets made their way toward the surface.
Amphitrite was still as youthful and beautiful as she'd ever been, and her presence allowed a sense of calm to steal over him as she placed her hand on his right arm, uncaring of the weapon in his grasp. Her long, dark hair flowed around her unaffected by gravity, and it was draped over pale skin which was only broken by the small, dark horns on her forehead which were shaped like tiny crab claws. Her eyes were dark, like mocha, and the features of her face were delicate and gentle.
Long ago she'd stolen his focus, and despite his unfaithful ways, none had managed to ever capture him as she had. Amphitrite was born one of the fifty Nereids who each represented various facets of the sea. Hers was the aspect of gentle waves, and there was something so peaceful about her presence that, in all the stress and struggle of preparing for war when they met, the peace she brought him was perhaps the greatest gift he'd ever received.
In order for him to take control of the sea, he'd had to know and understand every aspect of it – he'd had to make them a part of himself. The sea itself was ever changing and could not be contained. Because of this, Poseidon's nature had become fluid, and as much as he hated to admit it, it meant that he could love his wife with one breath, and love another in the next.
For the life of him, he couldn't understand why she never seemed upset by his ways, but she would always get this wistful, slightly sad look when she learned of one of his other children, and say that she understood. She would welcome them, not as her own children but as honored children born from her husband. When Theseus first came to Atlantis to see him, she'd met him with grace and gifted him a purple cloak to signify his royal blood from Poseidon, as well as his own kingship of Athens. He'd worn it regularly until his eventual death.
Poseidon was certain he didn't deserve her, and it was for that very reason that he'd always been so fiercely protective of her. She said he went overboard most times, especially when he once cursed a mortal woman for claiming to match Amphitrite's beauty, but he was of the opinion that anything he could do in service to her was justified.
"The city is as prepared as we can make it without inciting panic in the subjects," she said quietly. "Delphin is making regular patrols, and Triton has the soldiers prepared to move in any direction at a moment's notice. We will withstand this, I am certain of it."
"I'd like to believe that, but I fear it may not be enough," Poseidon responded. "I fear our own strength will be stretched to the breaking point, and should any others join him in his assault…"
She was silent for a moment, and her face twisted slightly as she wrestled with her thoughts. Finally, she asked quietly. "Astraeus...Per-Perseus...would he come?"
Poseidon's jaw clenched at the obvious pain that question brought her, and that fact that she tried to force herself to use that name sent a flare of heat through his chest. His son had a great many things to answer for, and the heartache he continually caused his mother was perhaps the greatest of his sins, so far as Poseidon was concerned.
She'd loved him and cherished his birth, gave him his name and created him with her own body. That he would seek to find his own way among the stars was, perhaps, understandable – even if his siblings didn't agree. However, to cast aside the name his mother gave him and take on another, to honor a human woman in such a way, dismissive of the mother who gave birth to him...there was a reason why Poseidon refused to aid Astraeus in his endeavors.
When he was young, Astraeus was never allowed a true attachment to his mother or to the sea itself, and was instead raised by Hestia in some fashion, but mostly by Poseidon and his brothers. He was raised as a soldier, and trained to fight from the moment he could hold a weapon. The person he became at the end of the war was, then, understandable. He wasn't a sweet and caring boy, wasn't afforded the easy life as Zeus' children were. He was different, colder, more brutal.
Artemis tempered his nature somewhat, as Zeus intended, and for a time it appeared as if things would work themselves out. Originally Zeus hoped they'd marry, but Artemis was against the idea of even growing up, and so the topic was never breached to the two of them. Instead Astraeus served as her mentor and father figure, and through her he experienced much of what he would have naturally experienced himself, had things been different.
A lot happened after that which affected Astraeus, including his fallout with Athena and his decision to become patron of heroes. Athena likely played a large part in his decisions which followed, though she couldn't be blamed for his actions, at least not fully. Years passed quickly for the Gods, and soon he made a decision that Poseidon firmly believed was the beginning of the end for his son.
Astraeus asked to be allowed to live as a mortal for a single lifetime.
Zeus didn't see the point, and neither did the rest of them, but they humored him which turned out to be a mistake. It transitioned him from one extreme to the other. He lived as a mortal, and became attached to heroes and humans. He became so attached to them that he cast aside his family in favor of those who aged and died, and when they left Greece for Rome, he left behind many of his good qualities, unable to truly let go of their birthplace.
Much like Athena herself, Astraeus had no desire to leave Greece, and so he left much of himself behind when they finally did so.
Now he was fractured, far more so than the other Gods, between his Greek and Roman halves. His Greek half held all of his love for life and for others, and clung to the brief mortal life he lived as Perseus. In many ways, he wasn't even the same person as the one Poseidon remembered. His Roman half, however, was...dangerous.
Astrum held all of his strength, and was far more willing to use it. He was the worst of what Astraeus became, turned up a few notches. He was cold and brutal and he led the charge as Rome attempted to conquer the world. If not for his continued allegiance to Olympus, Zeus – or rather, Jupiter – would have destroyed him there. Instead, Jupiter turned his conquering nature outward, and he conquered other worlds in their name out amongst the stars.
The planets, named for the Roman Olympians…Jupiter, Neptune, Mars...whatever life may have been there once was no more. Astrum was out there, likely even now, attempting to stretch his limits.
Astraeus, then, was no more. He was fractured, split between Perseus and Astrum, and was all the weaker for it. He could be seen, at times to tap into the well of strength that was easily a match for Poseidon and his brothers, and truth be told he likely had the potential to surpass them as the strongest of the newer generation, but it was fleeting and unpredictable.
Sometimes his energy surged, as he nearly became one being, but most times he was far weaker than the elder Olympians. Zeus preferred it that way, but Poseidon really didn't want his wife to see her first born son in such a state. It was the primary reason he hadn't called him home for a very long time.
Instead of speaking about the intricacies of it, however, he shook his head at his wife's question. "He's under siege by Krios, and so all of his focus is likely to land there. We can no longer count on his aid."
Her shoulders slumped, and she looked heartbroken as her arm slipped from his. "You haven't even asked, have you?" she said, her voice still quiet. "I haven't seen him for an age, even before this conflict. Much as you don't like to speak of them to me, I see that you make every attempt to see your mortal children whenever opportunity allows. Don't you believe I deserve the same courtesy?"
"Of course I do," Poseidon said gruffly. "Things are just complicated at the moment. He's under attack by Krios, and still wars with my brother besides. I won't ask that he attend a third conflict, not while he prepares to defend Olympus as well."
"And why is it that you haven't aided him against Hades?" she asked, frowning. "I understand that the two of you don't get along well, not like you do with Triton, but he's still your son as much as mine. You would never allow Hades to threaten or attack our other children."
"Astraeus can handle himself, of that I'm certain," he answered vaguely.
Amphitrite took a step back, smiling bitterly at him. "How could you possibly expect him to aid you, when you refuse to do the same for him? That's what you meant, isn't it?" She shook her head and looked away. "You could've stopped all of this, if you wanted. You could have gone there, to Colorado, and faced your brother while Astraeus focused on Krios. You can help him, but you refuse to. Why?"
In the face of her simple demand, Poseidon allowed himself to be honest with her. "Because who he is now...I'm not sure he even is my son anymore," he admitted. "I'm not sure I want to help him."
She looked as if he'd just kicked her in the stomach, and he reminded himself that he'd not said that aloud before for a reason. Amphitrite loved Astraeus in a way that was perhaps more absolute and unconditional than even their other children, and it was mostly, he thought, because she never really knew him. She had this ideal in her head of the perfect son, of a boy she gave birth to who was sent off to war and taken from her. Of a boy who became a man and won his battles, and then became a shining light in the stars for all to look up at in admiration.
She never allowed a word to be spoken against him in her presence, and she often traveled to small islands in the dead of night to stare up at the stars and dream of her first born. She'd watch his constellations move about with wonder, and admired the realm he'd built with his own strength, even as she wished he'd stayed in the sea.
Too late, Poseidon realized, he'd spoken the wrong words to her.
The look she graced him with was a mixture of heartbreak and fury, and she immediately turned to leave. He tried to reach out to her, but she quickly darted past his reach. "If that's how you feel then perhaps it's for the best he doesn't come home." she snapped. "If his own father doesn't want him, is it truly any wonder that he looks to Zeus instead of you?"
The words were sharp and cutting, as she knew they'd be, and they gave Poseidon enough pause for her to once more dissolve into bubbles and disappear. He was left there, on the edge of the abyss, feeling the sting of his own words thrown back into his face. He'd once complained to her that Astraeus had a closer relationship with Zeus than he did with his own father, and apparently she hadn't forgotten.
Either way, no matter his wife's feelings, he couldn't rely on Astraeus in the coming war. He was far too unpredictable. A visit from her son to soothe an angry mother, however...perhaps it was time...
The afternoon Council meeting began with its usual flair, and once more all of the Olympians were present. Zeus opened the meeting with a declaration that he would finally pass sentence on Perseus for his actions in breaking their most sacred law, and he made his ruling swift and merciless, as was his way. As ruler of the Gods, his uncle had always had a gift for punishment that Perseus was certain he'd inherited from his father. Zeus was capable of seeking the weaknesses of those he commanded and using that knowledge to enact a punishment that they would certainly loathe.
"You're joking, I hope?" Perseus questioned flatly, his eyes locked with those of his King, and praying to see any measure of room for negotiation or any hint of a lie.
There were various reactions spread around the room, some with surprise, and others of amusement. Some were open with their greed, and those were the ones he was most wary of. This had to be some kind of abuse of power, he was certain.
"I assure you, I'm not," Zeus commanded firmly. "For your actions in this throne room, for breaking one of our most sacred laws, your punishment shall be one reasonable demand or task performed for each of us who's throne you endangered with your actions. One task to be assigned by the other eleven Olympians, as repayment for endangering their seats of power in your recklessness."
The barking laughter of Ares was the soundtrack to which his moment of misery was set. To be essentially at the mercy of all the other Gods was most likely the worst punishment he could've conceived. Zeus had always been merciless in his decisions, so he shouldn't have expected anything less, but he could honestly say he hadn't expected this. One reasonable demand for a human was to send them to fetch an apple from a forbidden garden. One reasonable demanded of a God was a different thing entirely. The term 'reasonable' was, therefore, quite fluid.
"You seem so very attached to the mortal heroes," Zeus continued. "And everything you do seems to revolve around that fixation. If that be the case, then you shall serve Olympus with what we shall call, the Labors of Perseus. Perhaps this shall grant you a vision of clarity. Behave within your station, or be treated as if you are below it."
"Oh this is gonna be fuckin' great!" Ares laughed. "What quest shall I send you on, I wonder?"
"This is to remain within the boundaries of the ancient laws, and each task will grant you a single coin," Zeus continued as if he hadn't heard his dipshit son, whom Perseus was really beginning to get annoyed at. With a wave of the King's hand, a single coin appeared in front of the other Gods, even as Perseus felt a sinking pit form in his stomach to witness Ares snatch his greedily. "Present me with eleven coins, and consider your penance paid."
The anger which was building at his public humiliation was beginning to take precedence. Zeus called this a mercy, which meant that his original punishment – which he said Athena convinced him to be lenient with – was likely far worse. Still, for Gods who couldn't age, public humiliation could last for any length of time and would only end when they got bored of it.
"Very well," Perseus ground out through clenched teeth. "You all have eighteen months to spend your coins. By the Winter Solstice next year, I will either have earned eleven coins or you can eat the goddamn things."
Zeus nodded. "A reasonable time-frame." he said, a coin still floating leisurely in the air as he touched his fingers together in front of him like a steeple. "As for my demand, then, you shall present me with a Titan at the foot of my throne within eighteen months."
The room was silent, and Perseus stared at the King who only stared back calmly. They both knew where the Titans were, and that they were beyond his reach. This was either a task he expected Perseus to fail, or else it was meant as a motivation to pursue the war in a proactive enough manner to flush out their enemies.
"You call that reasonable?" Demeter questioned, frowning. "We all know that this war is likely to be very protracted, for years at the very least."
"Don't be foolish, sister," Hera sneered. "If this 'prophecy' is coming to pass, the fate of Olympus will be decided in the next four years. If we haven't made enough progress to have one of them captured within eighteen months, we are unlikely to see a favorable end to it."
That was true enough, however Zeus had specified that Perseus must present him with one of his enemies. That was far more complex, as while he fully intended to actively fight the Titans, capture was much more difficult.
"And should I fail?" Perseus asked, tilting his head and locking eyes with Zeus once more.
His uncle nearly glared, and his nostrils flared in obvious displeasure. "Don't." he ordered.
There was a tension between them that hadn't been there before, which wasn't present when he met with his father and Zeus in the middle of the sea. The King was displeased with him again, and he could only speculate that it had something to do with his decisions at Camp Half-Blood. Perhaps it was his decision to create cabins for the Minor Gods, or maybe it was him taking Hades' son as his champion. Zeus wasn't talking at the moment, so it was difficult to say.
Perseus was distracted as his father grabbed the coin in front of him and flicked it toward him with his thumb. The silver disk flipped end over end until Perseus caught it in his grasp. "Your mother wants to see you. Make her happy, and have your coin from me," Poseidon said absently. It seemed he didn't have any desire to play the games of his brother.
"Oi, this is meant to be a punishment," Ares said, appearing displeased.
"It'll be punishment enough, considering he'll have to face his sisters and Triton," Poseidon grunted, cutting his eyes to the War God narrowly. "Besides, my decisions aren't up for debate by you. Mind your own business."
Perseus turned the thought of his family over in his mind, and realized it had been quite some time since he'd visited. He was born in the sea, before his father even claimed it, and so in a way it would be him going home, even though he'd never really thought of it as that. His siblings lived there, so there was no avoiding them, and his mother rarely left Atlantis, and never left the sea.
"His throne was never in much danger to begin with," Perseus remarked, staring at the coin with a '3' etched into it. "This seat only holds a fraction of his essence. The one in Atlantis, much more so."
Poseidon merely shrugged at the comment. "Many of us hold our strength in other locations," he said casually. "You have yours spread in multiple places. The half-blood camps, here, and I have a feeling that there is another somewhere hidden in the stars."
There certainly was, though he'd never made mention of it to anyone. There were some who knew about it, but they were unlikely to be found in Olympus anyway. Artemis knew, as she was the only Olympian to have been invited there, but while the rest of them may suspect, he hadn't ever come out and said it so openly. It wasn't a secret really, but what a God did in their realm was no business of the others.
The bulk of their source of power was still tied to Greece, and that was true for them all.
"This is all well and good, but it's distracting us from the fact that all of this stems from the recent conflict between Astraeus and Hades," Hephaestus said gruffly. "What should have ended with the conclusion of the quest, instead has dragged on into something that isn't sustainable any longer."
"Agreed," said Hermes, an apologetic look toward Perseus at his word. "Sorry Perce, but he's right. This fight can't continue any longer. The back and forth between the two of you cost us big this time. It nearly caused full exposure and we have nothing to show for it. Any more escalation risks irreparable damage to the mortal world and to our own territories."
"Escalation which is only furthered by your actions with the boy," Zeus interrupted. "You've sworn him into service to spite Hades, but you've also overstepped yourself in the process. You had the boy swear to serve you, eternally, meaning that never again will he step foot in the Underworld as his kind are meant to do."
"It wasn't an accident, I hope you're aware," Perseus responded with a slight shrug. "Tell me, Uncle...when exactly is this council going to discuss Hades and his own conduct? When are we going to rally together and make judgment against him for the oath he broke and the violence he caused? For the constant threats and for his actions which directly resulted in the escape of a Titan – for his incompetence in watching over the entrance to Tartarus, where preventing the escape of our enemies is supposed to be his primary objective?"
The room was silent for a moment, and Perseus nodded. "Anyone who'd like to pass judgment on my sins and my mistakes, feel free. Just know that if you act against me, as Hades did, then I will respond in kind. Take my child, and I will take yours. Forever. And since Hades is above the reproach of this council, for whatever reason, then I will operate as if I have the same freedoms. We have a war to fight, and yet I'd be willing to wager that less than half of you even have a clue what shall be needed, and where to even begin. Let's ask our resident War God, shall we?"
Perseus pinned Ares with a look. "Where will you begin, with the knowledge that our enemies are currently beyond our reach, but are doubtlessly planning a strike we have no way of preventing?"
Ares shrugged carelessly. "We wait them out," he said. "Patience will be key. They'll leave their rat hole, and we'll be waiting for them."
Perseus smirked sarcastically, shooting a look toward Zeus. "A useless solution that may be viable in human warfare, but has no meaning to those who can turn themselves into energy and disappear at will. You won't know when they come or when they go, and you will only know where they are when they land a crippling blow, and then retreat again."
"And what is your solution, then, oh mighty one?" Ares snarked, rolling his eyes.
Perseus merely tilted his head, staring at his cousin. After a moment, he nodded once. If it was up to him, then he'd gladly take the reigns. "Cepheus," he called, with a flick of his fingers.
At the foot of his throne the ancient King appeared in a flash of starlight. At first the man's skin was, like Leo, made of pure white fire, but it disappeared quickly to reveal the armored man. His hair was dark, his skin tanned and yet twin stars glowed where his eyes should be. The father of his first wife, Andromeda, was to serve him eternally in return for trying to sacrifice her to the sea monster of Poseidon.
"Cepheus, wake the Guardians. Take Aquila and Corvus as scouts, and take the hounds to Canada along the border of Alaska. Take Ursa as well, and bring Cancer, and Cetus, as well as Pisces to patrol the coastline. I want sea, air and land covered. Watch for any energy leaving and send one of the scouts to follow. Any monsters gathering nearby are to be eliminated. I need as much information as you can bring me on any large heat signatures you can detect coming from within Alaska, we're specifically looking for a forge operated by Cyclopes." Perseus commanded.
"At once, though you should know there's been movement in the North. Scorpius, I believe," Cepheus responded.
"I'm following him closely. I want Andromeda and Pegasus moved to the secure areas, in case of an attack from Krios, but don't wake them. Use Corvus to relay messages to me daily. Also...wake Orion." Perseus said firmly. "I want him hunting the northern edges of the border. Capture of our enemies is preferred, but if he sees the opportunity to take a lethal shot, don't hesitate."
A firm nod, and then the ancient King was gone in a flash of white light to carry his orders. Turning back to Ares, Perseus once more addressed his cousin. "We wait for nothing. They will strike to cripple or kill. Our assault must be proactive and thorough, or we will lose. The Titans made the mistake so long ago of waiting for their enemies to come for them, and here we sit. I will not repeat that mistake."
It would likely take quite some time for his scouting efforts to bear fruit, but it was better than a wait and see approach.
Drifting through the mostly empty and endless expanse of the Astral Plane, a cluster of stars moved with extreme precision. Their movement was slow relative to the vast distance involved, but with purpose, and the passing of other constellations was done with extreme care. They were sleeping, resting always, but the scorpion had been called to seek and to kill, and he'd finally caught the masked trail of his prey. It wouldn't do to make a mistake this late in the hunt.
The master was angry, and had imbued him with the strength to go anywhere in search of his target. Even to places that were usually off-limits. The importance of his task was all that mattered, and so Scorpius made sure that he was utterly undetected as he drifted through the black.
The outline of his form was distorted, the stars constantly shifting to hide his presence, and yet he was nearly caught as the large one with many heads – the one who never slept – seemed to focus on him for an instant. The gaze was hungry and probing, searching for an excuse to destroy and devour, but Scorpius was protected by the master's strength. In a fortunate moment, the large one didn't make a disturbance and the scorpion was allowed to pass into the forbidden area.
The fact that the trail of energy even lead this far meant that the large one was a failure to the master. Even awake and alert, with numerous searching eyes, the scorpion's target had managed to slip by it unnoticed. Useless, fat Guardian.
Scorpius wouldn't fail like the large one did.
The trail lead onward, and as he followed it, Scorpius knew the master would be even more angry to learn where the enemy had gone. This area was to be protected, always, and nobody was allowed to enter without the master himself. The shining walls of the palace rose before him, and he knew just how critical this mission was. The palace was crucial to everything – to all life – and had to be safe.
Housed within the shining fortress were some of the Great Ones – the Light and the Day, Aether and Hemera.
Scorpius didn't know much about the function of everything and how it all worked, but he knew that the Great Ones were crucial. They were the foundation on which everything was built, and without them nature itself would not exist in it's current form. It would become something else, something changed.
They were to be protected at all costs, and so the master had built them a palace in the stars, the House of Light, where they could be surrounded and guarded by his realm and the Guardians who served him. It was meant to be an opposing reflection to the House of Night which housed the other Great Ones, Nyx and Erebus in the darkest pits of the Underworld. The large one was meant to be a final line of defense against any who would come in search of the Great Ones in the stars.
Someone had slipped by him, and Scorpius found that wretched trespasser near the gates of the palace, attempting to sneak through them quietly. They were locked tight, like always, but the hidden one was slowly feeding energy into the gates, as if trying to bypass the lock.
The hidden one was an immortal he knew, due to their form being made entirely of energy, though it was well masked. Scorpius didn't care. He didn't care if it was a lowly minor God or the King of all of Olympus. Nobody was allowed here, and the hunt had led him directly to his prey.
He refused to wait any longer. He darted forward, his form seeming to come together in the blink of an eye to create his body, and his glowing white stinger plunged into the intruder without warning. The explosion of energy released as he punctured the celestial body caught the attention of the large one, which the master called Hydra, and all nine heads turned in their direction as one.
Author's Note: Chapter 13 done, and this is going to be Part 1 of a two-part finale to Arc 1. Originally meant for it to be one chapter, but it was just getting too long and convoluted with so many scenes and viewpoints, so I split it. As it is this chapter is well over 10k words, and I still have more to wrap up.
In this one I wanted to show some interaction with Perseus and Atlanta, and I think that turned out well enough. It's a little stilted on purpose, as while both of them have been shown to care deeply for one another, their relationship isn't as close as either of them would like. Because of that, I feel it would be difficult for them to relate to one another.
We also finally get a glimpse of Hades, and while his motivations aren't made clear yet, that too is by design. He has things in motion and is attempting to remain a step ahead in his plans. We will just have to see where that leads.
The scene with Poseidon was meant as a general overlook of his complicated relationship with his son, and also as a slight teaser for Arc 2. I understand it seemed to come from nowhere, but I felt like it needed to be included. It also sheds some light on Perseus and why he is the way that he is. Remember – all opinions given by a specific character are only from their perspective, and while they believe them to be true, that's based off their own knowledge only.
We also see the punishment for Perseus breaking their sacred law – and one I found quite fitting. The Labors of Perseus – a task to be completed for each of the Olympian Gods – will be, I think, and interesting plot point moving forward, and a sort-of side plot to the war itself. Zeus has been shown to be creative in his punishments, such as with Tantalus – who tried to feed the Gods human flesh, and in return couldn't eat or drink anything ever again. Granted Hades had a hand in that punishment, but still.
The final scene, then, is Scorpius and his long hunt. It's coming to an abrupt end in Part 2 of the finale, and we will see his target. The more interesting thing, however, is where that target was found. I thought that it only made sense for the House of Night to have a counterpart, and so the House of Light was born. More on that later.
For now, I hope you all enjoy and I apologize for the long delay between chapters. Life just gets busy sometimes.
As always, review if you want, or don't if you don't.