Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or Danmachi.
( - )
(Last Time)
"Sure, he's scary as all Hades, but he is definitely not a monster. He doesn't smell like a god either, or even a demigod really. I mean, he doesn't have the 'scent' at all. But I don't think he was lying. Besides, even if he was, at least this way we can be on guard." Grover said quickly.
Percy frowned at the comment.
Annabeth though, nodded her head thoughtfully. "What's done is done. We'll just have to be careful and stay on guard." As she spoke, she grimaced. "Grover does have a point though. If Bell meant us harm, then he probably would have already killed us."
"I reckon we could take him," Percy said with forced confidence.
Both Grover and Annabeth gave him sidelong looks of disbelief.
Percy didn't answer them or even look at them as he instead started moving, and quickly caught up with Tyson and the very suspect, Bell Cranel.
( - )
Chapter 2
( - )
(With Annabeth)
Annabeth couldn't help but feel tense as she and the rest of her party. Including their newest, and hopefully temporary, companion. Continued their journey through the dark and winding corridors of the labyrinth. The surrounding tunnel was claustrophobic, and the very air felt heavy with menace. Yet it was not the labyrinth that had her on edge. Instead, it was her newest companion that had her on edge.
Bell Cranel.
Her eyes flicked over to the older teen as she thought of him, her stormy grey eyes boring into the back of his head.
The white-haired teen was an oddity. Though not in the sense that he looked odd, even if his obvious albinism would probably be considered as such by some. But no, that wasn't what made him odd in her eyes. Admittedly his ivory white hair and bright crimson eyes did make him stand out from the average mortal. Especially since from an objective standpoint, he was very good-looking. He could easily pass as a child of Aphrodite or a child of Apollo. His smooth, pale skin, exotic, difficult-to-place features, and overall delicate, androgynous appearance. It certainly made him stand out in a physical sense.
But that wasn't what made him odd her eyes. It was not his delicate, albino appearance that drew her curiosity. Instead, it was the way he talked and acted, and just the general vine he exuded.
His accent for one was not something that she had ever come across.
For some reason, the way he spoke didn't quite sound right to her ears. It was just a little off. Almost like he was speaking Ancient Greek, only her brain wasn't quite translating what he was saying properly. Instead, it was running a downgraded version of its usual translation software or was dealing with some low-level external interference, even as it tried to translate what he was saying into something she could properly understand.
It was difficult to put into words. But the more she spoke with him the warier she became. It was like her subconscious was continuously picking up fresh oddities through cold reading and was screaming at her that the older teen wasn't quite right and just didn't fit.
More than his exotic accent, it was also what he was saying that drew her attention.
The little he had said about the labyrinth didn't match up to what she knew of it both from her reading and personal experience. There were similarities, but even as Percy and Grover made idle chitchat, and asked him about his experiences, more and more irregularities seemed to crop up. Every now and then he would occasionally mention monsters that she had never heard of, or which she knew for a fact belonged to other Pantheons. Similarly, he referenced visiting sections of the labyrinth that made no sense. In all their wanderings so far and in all her past research, she had never once come across an opening to a different floor of the Labyrinth. Let alone the dozens of different floors he was alluding to.
He'd also made several references during some of his explanations to beings that he called 'Monster Rexs'. Which were apparently extremely powerful monsters that he claimed ruled over certain sections of the Labyrinth.
Upon hearing the title he'd given them – Monster Rex – her mind had automatically interpreted it as 'the King of All Monsters'. Which again made no sense. Most monsters were solitary beings and the ones that weren't worked more like a pack or a coven than an autocratic society. Sure there were former kings of the ancient world who had been cursed and turned into monsters. But even those beings weren't arrogant enough to name themselves as the king of monsters. Instead, former kings like Lycaon the First Werewolf, acknowledged that they were former kings, and led their kin – in Lycaon's case a pack of werewolves – but they never claimed to hold any authority over other monsters, let alone naming themselves as the King of All Monsters.
No, the only beings that she could think of who would ever claim that title, would be Tartarus, the
Protogenos of the Abyss, and the embodiment of the infernal Pit from whence all monsters were reborn. Typhon the walking cataclysm, The Storm Giant, and the 'Father of All Monsters'. Or Typhon's consort, Echidna, the 'Mother of All Monsters'.
All three of them were immensely powerful and terrifying beings, and not the kind who would tolerate lesser monsters claiming kingship over those that they had already claimed. Nor were they the kind of creatures, or in Tartarus's case an eldritch, primordial evil, that would ever reside in Daedalus' labyrinth permanently.
Her brow furrowed at the thought of such beings.
She had not said their names out loud, as names had power. But even thinking of their names, seemed to sour her mood and send a chill down her spine.
Her hands tightened into fists at her side as she heard Percy laugh at something Bell had said. The sound cut through her like a hot knife through butter and further soured her mood.
For all that Bell came across as a kind, friendly and personable person, he just didn't fit.
In addition to his vague references to Monster Kings. Bell Cranel had also referenced a city called Orario. In one of his offhand comments, he had mentioned that the city was known as the 'Centre of the World'.
She was no expert in geography – history, mythology and architecture held far more interest to her. But she was pretty sure she'd never heard of such a city before, and she absorbed knowledge like a sponge, including information that she heard offhand.
From what she knew, Ancient Babylon had once been known as the centre of the ancient world. But that was the only legitimate example she could think of – other cultures had made similar grandiose claims more recently with little to no justification – but she was not aware of Babylon having another name, nor of there having even been a major city by the name of Orario. She couldn't even think of the etymology of the name. Where it came from. Or what culture it belonged to.
His claims sounded absurd, and yet at the same time, he didn't seem to be lying either. As a daughter of Athena, she had a talent for more than just battle tactics. She could also cold-read people and had become very adept at picking up on the signs of deceit, especially after dealing with the spawn of Hermes for as long as she had. But watching Bell Cranel the most she could pick up from him was a few half-truths or omitted details. Other than that, he seemed totally sincere, almost annoyingly so.
It was frustrating as it meant he was either a master manipulator and liar or truly believed everything he was saying.
It just didn't make sense.
Nor did the aura he seemed to unconsciously exude.
She had spent enough time around both Thalia and Percy to recognise the presence of a powerful demigod when she came across one, and for all that Bell did not have a demigod scent – according to Grover – he felt like one.
She could practically feel the divinity emanating from him.
He was like a beacon to her senses.
Thankfully, the divinity leaking out of him was not on the level of a god. She'd met enough of them to recognise the presence of a god or goddess. But even so, there was something distinctly not normal about him either.
He was not a demigod, as both he and Grover had pretty much confirmed as much, but he didn't feel like a mortal who had been given a Blessing from a God either. She had met the members of the Hunt of Artemis who had once been normal mortals, and their presence did not even compare to Bell's.
He felt like he was much more than a Blessed mortal. The aura he was giving off and the sheer level of danger he unconsciously projected was greater than most of the demigods she knew. Only Thalia and Percy, and maybe Nico, seemed to compare, and all three of them were powerful children of the Big Three.
She wet her lips and narrowed her eyes.
He was an enigma.
A mystery.
Her brow furrowed.
The only mystery she liked was one that she had already solved.
"-I don't really have that much experience with a shield." Cranel's voice cut through her thoughts as he continued his conversation with Percy.
His voice was soft and his tone mild as he smiled down at Percy and answered his litany of questions. His red eyes, for all that they should appear threatening or intimidating based on their colour, were filled with kindness and good humour. He didn't seem to be at all annoyed by the ongoing interrogation. But was instead amused.
It was disconcerting.
Percy was a laid-back guy, but he could also be pretty inquisitive about some things. It was one of the things she liked about him, for as much as he went with the flow. If he didn't know something and wanted to, he would bluntly ask as many questions as he needed to, to understand. Regardless of how minor or stupid his questions might seem to others. He was annoying at times, but he was also honest and earnest. As someone who could instinctively analyse and break down a person's every word and action, and suss out their motives and intentions, it was refreshing. He had no hidden side or secret agenda. He was exactly who he appeared, a sarcastic, laidback teen with a good heart and an irritating sense of humour.
The same could be said for Grover. The satyr was exactly what he appeared, he was nervous and awkward at times but possessed an inner strength and fortitude that would probably shock many of those who knew but didn't fully understand him.
Bell though was different.
Maybe it was because she didn't know him yet or at least not as well as the others but everything about him set her on edge. It was like he was a coiled snake waiting to strike, and yet none of the others seemed to recognise the danger he embodied.
"I always preferred using knives and magic. Though I do have some experience with swords," Bell continued, his expression thoughtful. "But I guess that's because knives were cheap and easy to use when I was first starting. Not that I'm complaining, as they suit my style. Over the years I've become quite skilled with hit-and-run tactics, you know. I can hit hard when I need to and can take a hit if needed as well. But I'm nowhere near as sturdy as some of the Adventurers I've come across. No, for me it's all about speed for me. Hit them hard and hit them fast. I try to avoid drawn-out fights when I can, and when I think of shields, that's kind of what comes to mind, you know."
"But what happens if the monster you're fighting is just as quick as you? Or if it's too tough for your knives to pierce it?" Percy asked.
"There is not much out there that my knives can't deal with," Bell smiled. As he spoke, he unsheathed one of his knives and showed it to Percy. "But even so, monsters are not too dissimilar to people. They all tend to have common weaknesses. Groin, armpits, throat and eyes. They're all weak points, and most monsters will have at least one. As for if they're as fast as me, I guess that's where tactics come in. You adapted to the pace of the fight, and look for a moment, as a single moment is all you need to end it."
As he spoke, he began twirling his knife through his hands, wending it through the air in a set of forms with incredible speed.
She couldn't help but frown at the sight. She could feel a bubble of jealousy form in her gut. She was a dagger fighter, and a damn good one, and yet watching him show off, she couldn't help but compare herself to him and find herself wanting. He was older and more experienced, and yet she was the daughter of Athena, not him. Which meant that she should be the one showing him up, not the other way.
"This one was made by my friend and Familia mate, Welf." Bell continued, once again showing off his knife. The pale white blade looked flawless. "He forged it using an alloy formed from dragon bone and adamantine. He did a great job too; it's not failed me yet. But that's probably because he is an expert when it comes to forging weapons. He's so talented, that even Hephaestus has recognised his skill."
"Cool," Percy nodded his eyes alight with interest as he admired the pale white knife. He looked interested and yet was not quite as chummy with Bell as he was with the other campers. Which was good, as it meant that he hadn't fully let his guard down like she had initially feared.
Watching the interaction and listening in to what Bell was saying, she felt her brow furrow again.
From what she understood the guy, Welf, that he had just mentioned was a member of his family. Which suggested he was also a mortal, probably one who had also been Blessed by his patron. Yet at the same time, he was also a blacksmith who was capable of not only creating a weapon using monster spoils and rare metals, but one that was so skilled that he had been recognised by the God of the Forge himself. That was the kind of achievement she expected from Hephaestus's children, not a random mortal she had never heard of before. And yet this was the first time she had ever heard of a person called Welf… it made no sense.
"It does look well made," Tyson nodded, his singular eye likewise full of interest as he leant forward and peered at the knife, his fingers twitched like he was only moments away from reaching out so he could inspect it in closer detail. But thankfully it appeared he had learned at least some tact since she had last seen him.
"What about your other one?" Percy asked nodding down to the smaller, dark black knife sheathed at Bell's hip.
Bell smiled.
She felt her cheeks flush.
It was a very nice smile.
Annoyingly so. He reminded her of Luke before he showed his true colours.
"This one is a gift from my goddess, and it was forged by Hephaestus's own hands," Bell said, his tone full of fondness as he gently rested his fingers almost lovingly on the hilt. "I even named it after her."
"What's it called?" She asked suddenly. Whether through design or happenstance, she had noticed that Bell hadn't really spoken much about his patron goddess. He'd not even mentioned her name once.
"Oh, it's the Hestia Knife," Bell said cheerfully, barely batting an eye as he dropped an absolute bombshell on the rest of the party.
"Hestia!" Percy erupted.
She felt her eyes widen a fraction.
Hestia, the Goddess of the Hearth and Home was the oldest of Kronos's children and a former member of the Council of Olympus. She was an understated goddess. One who had long since faded into the background of mythology. But likely also a very powerful one too based on her pedigree. She was also, she knew, one of the three Virgin Goddesses alongside Athena and Artemis.
Her lips thinned.
Her mother got around her vow of chastity by creating demigod children through a mental connection she had with her partners.
The Goddess of the Moon had the Hunt, a band of lost girls that she found and took in during her travels and granted her Blessing to. Her Blessing was almost an adoption, as it granted those who had it a direct connection to her Domains, along with longevity, refined senses, strong bodies, and good health.
Considering the actions of the other two Virgin Goddess, would it really be a surprise to hear that Hestia had done the same and found a way to have children without breaking her eternal vow of chastity, and several times too based on the few references Bell had made to his 'Familia'.
No, it wouldn't surprise her at all. Gods were capricious and tricky beings, as far removed from humanity in how they acted and thought, as humanity was from ants.
But even so, the fact she'd never heard tell of this group was a surprise, especially considering how much information and data she and her siblings gathered and processed. They were practically the archivists of Camp Half-Blood at this point.
"Yes," Bell nodded cheerfully. "You've heard of her?"
"Of course, I have," Percy nodded. "I've met her."
"Oh really," Bell hummed, his head tilting innocently to one side. "And what do you think?"
That sounded like a test if ever she'd heard one, Annabeth thought, her eyes narrowing a fraction.
"She's great!" Percy grinned, "definitely one of the nicest gods I've ever met."
A brilliant smile lit up Bell's face, causing her stomach to do a flip and her traitorous cheeks to burn red.
"She really is," Bell nodded eagerly. "She found me when I was at my lowest. I was homeless, alone and destitute. My grandfather had just died, and I had set out to make something of my life, only to be rejected at every turn. I was almost ready to give up and then I met Hestia." His smile became softer. "She reached out to help me when no other would. I'll forever be grateful to her for it."
"I have only ever heard good things about her. Most of the satyrs and spirits I know say that she is one of the best." Grover nodded his agreement. Considering Grover was an Artemis and Pan, fanboy, that was high praise.
"Oh, she's not perfect, she'd happily admit that herself," Bell chuckled shaking his head. "Nobody is perfect, not even gods. She was the one that convinced me that was the case."
"I hear that," Percy grumbled.
She fought off a wince at the sudden change of tone in her friend's voice.
Her own relationship with her mother was practically non-existent. But she held no resentment towards her mother because of that. After all, she at least had brothers and sisters she could rely on in her stead.
Percy wasn't so lucky.
He was Poseidon's only demigod son, and although things had become slightly easier for him thanks to his half-brother, Tyson. Which was great, except he wasn't around that often, as Tyson spent most of his time beneath the sea working in his father's underwater forges in Atlantis. Unfortunately, that meant that Percy was still very much isolated and alone, much like how Thalia had been as the only child of Zeus before she joined the Hunt.
For the most part, Percy's mother was the only consistent family member he had, and he'd had to sit by and watch as she suffered at the hands of his stepfather Gabe, and all because Poseidon had taken a fancy to her, knocked her up, and then abandoned her like so many other gods had down to their mortal paramours.
Percy, she knew, had a lot of built-up resentment towards his father and the gods because of what had happened. It reminded her of Luke and many of the other unclaimed children of the gods. Her heart clenched at the thought of the treacherous son of Hermes, her old friend, and the boy she had once thought she loved.
Fortunately, Percy was a stronger person than Luke, instead of giving into his resentment and allowing it to twist him into being a monster in human flesh. He fought past his anger and had come out the other side scarred, but still very much human.
"Hey!" Percy's voice suddenly rang out – she suspected he was deliberately looking for a way to change the topic.
Looking up at his call. Her eyes widened as she saw what had caught her friend's attention. The spider they'd been following, had stopped and was now repeatedly banging its tiny head on a metal door.
At her side, her companions old and new tensed. Percy went as far as to take Anaklusmos out of his pocket, his fingers twitching as he popped off the pen lid and allowed the sword to expand and shift into its true form, a bronze, leaf-shaped sword.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Bell giving Percy a speculative look, his own hand resting on the hilt of his ivory white dagger. She found it interesting that his first instinct wasn't to draw the weapon his supposed Patron had gifted him.
Sparing Bell a single, last lingering look, she returned her attention to the metal door.
From a first inspection, it looked like an old-fashioned submarine hatch — oval, with metal rivets around the edges and a wheel for a doorknob. Where the portal should've been, however, there was instead a big brass plaque which had started to go green with age. On the plaque, inscribed in Ancient Greek, was the Ȇta symbol.
"Well, that's familiar," Bell muttered under his breath as he eyed the symbol. "A secret passage to the surface maybe…"
Ignoring Bell's inane musings, she shared a look with the other members of the party.
"Ready to meet Hephaestus?" Grover said nervously.
"No," Percy said bluntly.
"Yes!" Tyson said gleefully at the exact same moment as he took the initiative and turned the wheel and pulled open the door.
With a grating screech, the door swung open, and the spider scuttled inside with Tyson right behind it.
Sharing a look, the rest of the party followed.
Allowing the others to go first, she brought up the rear, her hand resting idly on the hilt of her dagger and her eyes locked on Bell's exposed back.
( - )
(With Bell)
He could feel the younger blonde's eyes boring into his back.
It was an amusingly familiar feeling.
Her suspicion and caution reminded him a lot of his friend Lili. Or at least it reminded him of how she used to be when she first set out adventuring with Welf and himself. Back then she'd constantly been on edge. Always expecting the worst.
Annabeth seemed to have the same outlook on life.
Where her friends Grover, Percy and Tyson seemed to be pretty open and easy-going – though he had noted that the two Xenos both seemed a slight bit more awkward and anxious than their human companion – Annabeth was a lot more tightly wound.
He could respect it, even if at the same time he would prefer her not to bore holes into the back of his head with her piercing, grey eyes.
His smile became slightly more genuine.
He wasn't feeling all that scared or nervous. Annabeth was confident, self-assured, and probably a strong fighter. But he had dealt with much worse. He'd been on the receiving end of a more intense gaze than what Annabeth could muster.
His friend, the waitress, Syr. Or the Goddess Freya as he had later found out. Had been many times more dangerous than the blonde girl could ever hope to be.
Only unlike Annabeth who regarded him with caution, Freya's gaze had held only obsession, and from his experience, obsession was many times more dangerous than caution, or even anger could ever be.
Still from what he could tell, Annabeth wasn't about to attack him at any moment. Instead, she was just a little cautious around him, which was far easier to assuage and fix. All he needed was a bit more time to prove that he was earnest and honest, and he was sure they'd be the best of friends.
He chanced a glance back at Annabeth as he stepped through the yawning doorway. His red eyes met her intense grey for a moment, before flitting to the hand she had resting on her dagger.
But then again, maybe not.
Sending her a smile, he faced forward once more and entered the room beyond the door, his eyes widening as he stepped through the doorway and looked around.
Where he had first expected a dark passage, one that would hopefully lead them to the surface and back to Orario where Hephaestus made her home, he was instead greeted by the sight of an enormous room.
It was like a giant workshop, full of all manner of odd and bizarre things. From large metal claws hanging from the ceiling, with intricate-looking tubing looping in and around them, to yet more of the enclosed, metal carriages that he had already come across during his journey through the labyrinth. Only these ones weren't rusted ruins but instead were painted all manner of colours and gleamed in the dull glow that emanated throughout the vast room.
Tearing his gaze away from the alien contraptions he instead spied the statue of a bronze horseman, whose horse was missing a head, with all manner of metal wires and threads protruding from the stump instead.
Elsewhere he could see a majestic metal lion that seemed to be hooked up to a crackling black box and a flashy-looking war chariot that looked like it was made entirely of flames.
He could see that there were still more bizarre and strange projects scattered in and around the room. Along the walls, there were also a large number of tools hanging, only some of which he recognised.
Stepping into the room his eyes widened as he twisted around and took everything in.
He'd visited Welf's workshop many times over the years. And during his visits, he had built up several expectations when it came to what a blacksmith's workshop should look like. As such, he had expected that Hephaestus' workshop would look pretty much the same. After all, as the Goddess of the Forge and the preeminent blacksmith he would have believed that her forge would be the archetype for what all others would appear like – especially those like Welf who had once been a member of her Familia. Only it looked like he was wrong. He had never anticipated that her workshop would appear to be as strange and chaotic as it was.
Searching the workshop for signs of life, he quickly locked onto a pair of legs that were currently sticking out from underneath one of the fancy metal carriages. The legs were decidedly not ones belonging to the svelte Goddess of the Forge. Instead, they were thick, stubby, and manly. One of the legs he noticed, was in a metal brace.
Frowning, he watched as the metal spider they had been following, scuttled straight under the carriage.
The sounds of banging immediately stopped.
"Well, well," a deep, unfamiliar voice boomed. "What have we here?"
Bell frowned, he had met a good number of the Hephaestus Familia, and certainly the most important ones. Yet he didn't recognise the voice. Nor did he recognise the short, grubby man who pushed himself out from under the carriage on the back of a low platform with wheels.
The man was… striking. He wore a full-body suit that was covered with dirt and grime. His leg was clad in a bulky metal brace and his left shoulder was lower than his right. Which made him look lopsided as he stood up straight. The man's head was misshapen and bulging and was currently adorned with a scowl. His black beard, Bell noticed, smoked, and hissed and every once in a while, a fire seemed to erupt from within his whiskers, only for it to die out moments later.
Yes, striking was certainly one word for the man, and that wasn't even touching on the overpowering aura of power, and the distinct stench of BO and oil, that he exuded.
Trying not to wrinkle his nose at the stench, Bell's red eyes flitted down to the man's rotund chest, where he could see the name Hephaestus embroidered in golden thread.
"There," the heavyset man muttered to himself as he swiftly dissembled and reassembled the metal spider in a matter of moments. "Much better."
The spider did a happy flip in his palm, shot a metallic web at the ceiling, and swung away.
Watching it go, he tried to master his confusion as he turned his attention back to the squat, balding man. Whoever he was, he was very high level. The last time he had felt such a powerful presence, he'd been facing down one of the Monster Rex's on the Deep Floors, and even that paled in comparison to this man. He made Ottar, the former strongest Adventurer in all Orario and the former Captain of the Freya Familia, seem like a rookie in comparison.
A shiver ran down his spine, as the man's dark, piggy eyes locked with his own.
The man's eyes seemed to burn with an inner fire.
He could almost feel his insides heat up like someone had just stabbed him in the gut with a burning hot poker.
No, this man was no normal Adventurer.
An old memory resurfaced in his mind as he saw the man eye him curiously. Several years ago. Hestia had once followed him into the Dungeon on a rescue mission after Lili, Welf and himself had gone missing due to a series of unfortunate events. When he had met up with her on the Seventeenth Floor, a safe zone where monsters didn't spawn, something had happened, an altercation that had caused her to partially unseal her divinity… his head throbbed.
Back then the sheer intensity of Hestia's partially unsealed power had overwhelmed his mind. Had she released any more of her power, she might've even shattered it.
Either way, despite having repressed his memories of the event, as he looked at the bearded man, he couldn't help but remember that feeling of smallness. Like he was a mouse standing before a slavering lion.
"Now, just what are you?" The man glowered at him.
"Err, I'm Bell, Bell Cranel," he got out, his throat felt thick as he tried to tear his eyes away from the grimy man's curious gaze.
"You don't fit," the man grunted. "You're like a cog that's out of alignment."
He didn't know how to answer that.
But apparently, the man wasn't looking for an answer as he instead scowled at the other. "You lot make sense. I didn't make you though, did I?"
"Uh, no sir, Lord Hephaestus" Annabeth said, her head lowered respectfully.
Hephaestus? He thought, his brow furrowing as he stared at the man.
This short, fat man wasn't Lady Hephaestus. The goddess he knew had flaming red hair, a singular piercing plum red eye, and a lithe, muscled form. She was a beauty that could steal the breath of a mortal man just by walking past him. In contrast, the 'Lord Hephaestus' in front of him would probably kill a mortal man with his stench instead.
"Good," the god grumbled, apparently oblivious to his inner thoughts. "I don't like shoddy workmanship." His gaze shifted back to Bell. "I also don't like foreign imports."
Bell frowned.
"Not seen one of your kind in a while," he muttered, shaking his head. "Not sure what to do with you really. We can't return you, as you don't come with a return address, and there are far too many other places out there, that it isn't worth the time, effort, and energy it would require. Probably can't scrap you either, the mere fact you were shipped here safely and not in pieces, tells me that those three old biddies have some plan in mind for you. Normally, incorrectly delivered packages like you don't come with a fragile sticker."
"What?" Bell asked as he tried to understand what had just been said. It sounded like he was comparing him to a piece of wrongly delivered missive….
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Annabeth staring at him in confusion. It was a feeling he shared.
"Anyway, I'll pass the word on and let someone else deal with you, or at least as and when they can be asked to anyway. One of the others, like 'Thena, will know what to do. Now that's sorted. What do the rest of you want?" The imposter grunted, apparently dismissing Bell without a second glance now that the matter – whatever it was – was settled in his mind. "Don't normally get you lot coming round here. Some kind of quest, is it?"
"We've met, sir," Percy piped up.
"Have we?" The god asked absently. He looked decidedly disinterested in the ongoing conversation. "Well then, if I didn't smash you to a pulp the first time we met, I suppose I won't have to do it now."
He looked at Grover and frowned. "Satyr."
Then he looked at Tyson, and his eyes suddenly twinkled. "Well, a Cyclops. Good, good. What are you doing travelling with this lot?"
"Uh…" Tyson began, staring in wonder at the god.
"Yes, well said," the god agreed nodding his head. "So, there'd better be a good reason you're disturbing me. The suspension on this Corolla is no small matter, you know."
"Sir," Annabeth said hesitantly sending him one last look, before turning her attention back to the god, "we're looking for Daedalus. We thought—"
"Daedalus?" the god roared, the air around him getting denser. "You want that old scoundrel? You dare to seek him out!"
His beard burst into flames and his black eyes glowed.
A trickle of sweat ran down the side of Bell's face as he took a step back at the sudden wave of heat and pressure that emanated off the god. Both Grover and Annabeth did the same. Tyson and Percy meanwhile barely blinked.
Shaking his head and mastering his suddenly thundering heart, Bell felt his hand move instinctively to the hilt of his black dagger. The god in front of him was not like the ones he knew. He was not a god in mortal form – both blood and flesh – with all his power sealed up tight within him. Instead, he was a fully unsealed god who had merely assumed the shape of a mortal.
For all intents and purposes, he should have been blasted back to the heavens by Ouranos for breaking his vow and fully unsealing his power. Hestia had only got away with it as she was deep in the Dungeon and had only loosened the seal, not fully removed it. But even then, she had been punished for it in a way, as the Dungeon had answered her actions by spawning an enhanced Monster Rex to butcher them all….
A shiver ran down his spine as he remembered the battle that followed. That had been the first time he had truly pushed past his limits. It was the first time that he properly used his Skill: Argonaut to its fullest.
"Uh, yes, sir, please," Annabeth spoke up from his side, answering the god's rhetorical question.
With a grunt, the god began to settle down, and as he did, the atmosphere became slightly less overbearing.
"Humph. You're wasting your time." The god frowned, his attention no longer on the group as he limped over to a nearby worktable and picked up a lump of springs and metal plates, his piggy eyes narrowing as he started tinkering with them.
After a few seconds, he showed off the results. It was a bronze and silver falcon. Grinning, the god released it from his grip and watched as it spread its metal wings, blinked its obsidian eyes, and flew around the room.
Ignoring Tyson as the one-eyed teen laughed and clapped his hands, Bell stared at the creation in awe. It was an impressive expression of his power. Yet, he already suspected, that the display didn't even scratch the surface of what the god in front of him was capable of.
Hephaestus regarded Tyson with a slight smile. "I sense you have something to tell me, Cyclops."
Tyson's smile faded. "Y-yes. We met a Hundred-Handed One."
Bell frowned at the unfamiliar name. It sounded like the kind of title that would be given to a Monster Rex, or maybe an alias given to a particular pervy Adventurer.
Hephaestus nodded, seemingly understanding exactly what, or rather who, Tyson meant. "Briares?"
"Yes. He-he was scared. He would not help us." Tyson nodded, his single eye beginning to tear up.
"And that bothered you."
"Yes!" Tyson's voice wavered. "Briares should be strong! He is older and greater than Cyclopes. But he ran away."
The squat god grunted and folded his arms. "There was a time I admired the Hundred-Handed Ones back in the days of the first war. But people, monsters, and even gods change, young Cyclops. You can't trust 'em. Look at my loving father, Zeus. You met him, didn't you?" He looked over at Percy.
The name made Bell raise his head. He had heard of Zeus before, but only ever spoken of in awe by adventurers, and disgust by goddess – the man was apparently a cad, a womanizer, and a complete pervert.
"He likes to put on airs and come across as stern and noble. He tries to make people think he is a wise and kind ruler, a selfless man who always looks to the future and thinks of the greater good. But in truth, he is a petty, self-absorbed bully. Anything that doesn't enhance his image, or glorify his legacy, he throws away. Just look at what he did to me. He took one look, saw my ugly mug, and thought it would reflect poorly on him. So, what does he do, he pitches me off Mount Olympus. If it weren't for my mother putting her foot down and protecting me and persuading Zeus to give me a chance to prove my worth, he would have smited me into non-existence long ago."
The squat god scratched his beard and frowned. "'Course, when he saw what I could do and what I could create. He thought differently and decided that I had at least some worth and wasn't just a blight on his legacy and an embarrassment."
Bell winced as he listened in. The man he described didn't sound like the Zeus he had heard of. The one he'd heard tell of was a bounder and a reprobate. But was still mostly kind-hearted and well-intentioned. Even the goddesses that disliked him for his womanizing and perversion, didn't disparage him too badly.
Hephaestus cleared his throat and spat into a bronze spittoon, before snapping his fingers. "But anyway, young Cyclops. The important thing that you need to remember kid is that you can't trust others. No matter who they are. All you can trust is the work of your own hands."
"I disagree," Bell said suddenly, mustering his courage and meeting the god's burning gaze.
As terrifying as the thought of standing up to an unsealed god was, he was willing to do so if it meant teaching younger adventurers good life lessons. The god in front of him was not only an imposter, but he was also a bitter, angry man who had long since allowed the bullies of the world to win, and negativity to bury him. And in doing so he had become a dark void of misery who desperately wanted to drag others into his way of thinking.
The attitude was an unproductive one and would get you killed in the Dungeon. Yes, some people were untrustworthy, and others were completely despicable and deserved death. But most were genuinely decent, and you couldn't, no matter who you were, allow the minority of terrible people to dissuade you from opening yourself up and giving the majority a chance. Hope and faith weren't a sin and shouldn't be punished. He would have thought a god would know that.
"And I don't care," the god dismissed him without even looking his way. "Now, what would you demigods want?"
Demigod? Bell thought with a frown, his frustration at the imposter god's dismissal quickly giving way to confusion. The man couldn't mean what he thought he did, right?
"We told you," Percy broke in, his voice sounding as frustrated as Bell felt. "We need to find Daedalus. There's this guy, Luke, and he's working for Kronos. He's trying to find a way to navigate the Labyrinth so he can invade our camp. If we don't get to Daedalus first-"
"And I told you, boy. Looking for Daedalus is a waste of time. He won't help you." The god grunted, dismissing Percy just as easily had he had just dismissed him.
"Why not?" Percy growled.
The short, bearded man shrugged. "Some of us get thrown off mountainsides. Some of us… the way we learn not to trust people is more painful. Ask me for gold. Or a flaming sword. Or a magical steed. These I can grant you easily. But a way to Daedalus? That's an expensive favour."
"A magical steed?" Bell asked, putting his many questions about just what the imposter meant by 'demigods' to one side for the moment. He would ask his companions about it once they were away from the very dangerous and possibly unstable god that could probably incinerate him with as much effort as it would take the bloated man to pass gas.
"No, you," the imposter grunted, his eyes narrowing as he finally deigned to look at him. "You do realise that I can hear what you're thinking?"
"Bell," Annabeth hissed.
Bell ignored her. "I just thought gods could tell when mortals lie."
"We can do more than that," the god replied sourly. "Just be glad I'm not as prickly as my kin, as the others aren't as good-humoured as me."
Bell's throat felt dry, as he quickly tried to clear his mind.
"I apologise for Bell, he is still new to this world and meant no offence," Annabeth cut in with a scowl at him and a deep bow to the now irritated-looking god.
"I'm sure," 'Hephaestus' grunted.
"So, ignoring my friend's idiocy, Lord Hephaestus. Do you know where Daedalus is?" Annabeth pressed on.
"It isn't wise to go looking, girl." 'Hephaestus' jabbed at her.
"My mother says looking is the nature of wisdom." Annabeth riposted.
Hephaestus narrowed his eyes. "Who's your mother, then?"
Couldn't this guy read minds? Bell thought.
"Yes," 'Hephaestus' scowled at him, "But some people have more self-control than others."
"Athena." Annabeth said quickly, no doubt trying to distract 'Hephaestus' from having another go at him.
"Figures." 'Hephaestus' sighed. "Fine goddess, 'Thena. A shame she pledged never to marry. All right, half-blood. I can tell you what you want to know. But there is a price. I need a favour done.
"Name it," Annabeth said.
The god laughed - a booming sound like a huge bellows stoking a fire.
"You heroes," 'Hephaestus' said chuckled, shaking his head, "always making rash promises. How refreshing!"
He pressed a button on his workbench, and metal shutters opened along the wall.
It was a huge window, through which they could see a grey mountain ringed in forests. It must've been a volcano because he could see smoke rising from its crest.
"One of my forges," Hephaestus said. "I have many, but that used to be my favourite."
"That's Mount St. Helens," Grover said. "Great forests around there."
"You've been there?" Percy asked.
"Looking for…you know, Pan."
"Wait," Annabeth said, looking at Hephaestus. "You said it used to be your favourite. What happened?"
'Hephaestus' scratched his smouldering beard. "Well, that's where the monster Typhon is trapped, you know. Used to be under Mount Etna, but when we moved to America, his force got pinned under Mount St. Helens instead. It's a great source of fire, but a bit dangerous. There's always a chance he will escape. Lots of eruptions these days, smouldering all the time. He's restless with the Titan rebellion."
Bell blinked, trying to make sense of all the new placenames.
"What do you want us to do?" Percy asked, "Fight him?"
'Hephaestus' snorted. "That would be suicide. The gods themselves ran from Typhon when he was free. No, pray you never have to see him, much less fight him. But lately, I have sensed intruders in my mountain. Someone or something is using my forges. When I go there, it is empty, but I can tell it is being used. They sense me coming, and they disappear. I send my automatons to investigate, but they do not return. Something…ancient is there. Evil. I want to know who dares invade my territory, and if they mean to free Typhon."
"You want us to find out who it is?" Annabeth asked.
"Aye," 'Hephaestus' grunted. "Go there. They may not sense you coming. You are not gods."
"Glad you noticed," Percy muttered.
Though they might be half-god, Bell mused. Though just how that occurred he wasn't sure, as from what he had heard procreation between gods and mortals was impossible.
"You'll be in for a surprise." 'Hephaestus' grinned at him.
"What do you mean?" Grover asked hesitantly.
"Not you, him, and don't worry about it." 'Hephaestus' scowled.
"Stop thinking so loudly," Annabeth elbowed him in the ribs.
"How?" Bell muttered at her. How was one supposed to think quietly?
"Go and find out what you can," 'Hephaestus' grumbled, clicking his fingers to regain their attention. "Report back to me, and I will tell you what you need to know about Daedalus."
"All right," Annabeth nodded, looking back at 'Hephaestus'. "How do we get there?"
'Hephaestus' clapped his hands. The spider came swinging down from the rafters making Annabeth flinch as it landed at her feet.
"My creation will show you the way," 'Hephaestus' said. "It is not far through the Labyrinth. And try to stay alive, will you? Humans are much more fragile than automatons."
Sharing a look, Percy took the initiative this time as he nodded. "We'll see you later then."
Standing off to one side, his mind awash with confusion, Bell nodded his agreement. He had no idea what was happening, but he foresaw an important conversation in his future.
He looked over at Annabeth. The blonde teen seemed the most knowledgeable of the group, and hopefully, she enjoyed teaching others too, as it appeared he would need a few lessons on just what in the name of the gods was happening.
( - )
AN: Looks like there was enough support to get another chapter. It is an interesting story to write. Some of it was in Annabeth's POV, which I've never really done properly before. But I found it interesting. Difficult though, more so than a lot of other PJO characters. Either way hope you enjoyed.
Let me know what you think.
Cheers, and catch you later.
Greed720.