Chapter 8: Classes Odysseus
Percy's POV: 1 week Later (Classes Continue)
"So tell me, my boy, is doing good worth losing those you love?" Odysseus asked yet again, annoyingly persistent. We've had this argument many times, our ideals and morals clashing like waves against the shore. He often pointed out that his own beliefs had shifted through experience, that wisdom often comes at a steep price.
"I won't become what I fight; I won't become a monster. There are enough of those already. I want to help even my enemies," I replied, feeling the familiar frustration bubble up.
"Monster." Odysseus seemed enamored with the word. "What is a monster? Do you mean nonhumans?"
"No! There are plenty of human monsters and plenty of beings labeled as monsters who are innocent and good. A monster is a state of mind, a sickness of the soul. It's not a race."
"Mmm, good that you already know that. It took many failures for me to overcome that naivety for myself. But still, you must know that one man's monster is another's hero. Tell me, when the witch turns men into pigs, is she mad? Evil? Or is she simply protecting her girls from those who'd harm them?" Odysseus asked.
"You mean Lady Circe?" I asked, curiosity piqued.
"Yes, exactly. Is she a monster? Should her victims be avenged?" Odysseus pressed, his eyes sharp.
"No, she is simply protecting those she loves," I said confidently, causing Odysseus to smile, though a shadow flickered in his gaze.
"When is it too far then? When does it cross the line?" he probed again, his voice steady but filled with weight.
"It can't be disproportionate," I said, my confidence wavering as doubt crept in.
"Tell me, in your quest for a proportionate amount of violence, to maintain the feeling of being a hero, what would you do if you lost someone dear—Annabeth, Thalia, or even Luke? Imagine they died because of you, because of your mercy. Would you blame yourself or the one who killed them? Especially if you had the chance to destroy their killer but hesitated to be better than them—how would you feel then?"
The air grew heavy as his words sank in. I swallowed hard, imagining the unbearable weight of such loss. "I would… I would feel responsible. I know that much."
"And therein lies the paradox." Odysseus leaned closer, his voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. "In your desire to hold onto your morals, you risk losing everything. Each decision—every act of mercy—shapes who you are. Sometimes, mercy can cost more than vengeance. Have you considered that?"
"But becoming a monster in the name of vengeance isn't an answer either!" I countered, feeling the heat of my convictions rise. "Killing out of anger only perpetuates the cycle of pain. I refuse to let that darkness consume me."
Odysseus nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. "You speak of cycles, yet life itself is a cycle of creation and destruction. Sometimes, to protect what you love, you must be prepared to make difficult choices. The world doesn't offer easy answers, and sometimes, you must embrace the gray areas."
"Gray areas," I echoed, contemplating the weight of his words. "But what if I lose myself in that gray? I don't want to justify violence. I don't want to be like the monsters I fight."
"By the end of my journey, I would've done anything, committed any evil, if it meant seeing my love again, my Penelope. I spared your brother and what did that get me? The wrath of your Father. How many lives were spared by the use of the Trojan Horse? The name is a synonym with treachery and yet it got my soldiers home to see their wives. Should I have sacrificed their lives for the lives of the Trojans my enemies?" Odysseus asked tersely.
"What of Hector's son? Was the promise of his revenge worth killing a child?" I asked hotly, these debates have gone on for a long time, the privilege of being an adoptive son of Hades is having the best teachers in the world. Achilles and Hector for combat, Socrates and Aristotle for Philosophy, and Odysseus, for reasons still unknown, he seemed a bitter man weighed down by his decisions and failings, and yet everyone down here respected him above almost all else, even my Adoptive Father Hades respects his counsel.
"If you were given the choice, to kill an innocent whom you knew would one day grow up to kill not only you but your friends, would you kill them?" Odysseus asked me, his eyes haunted by his past.
"No." I said with Authority permeating every syllable.
"I hope you can remember that, when the time comes dear boy, I forgot and not but pain and sorrow came from my choices. Oh Calypso, I never should have left you."