Chapter 41: I become partially immortal
[David's Pov]
I had a weird dream. I know, such a shocker, right?
At least now I knew it was less me-thing and more standard happenings for demigods as a whole. Still, the dream—or should I say dreams—was very eccentric.
It began with your typical nonsensical nightmare.
I was a general of an Ancient Greek army. A giant crocodile chomped down on my right arm as it tried to drag me down to the bottom of a swamp. I tried to shake it off, but no matter how hard I punched or kicked the crocodile managed to rip off my arm.
I screamed in pain and horror as the ripped-off flesh sputtered blood like a broken sprinkler, and stumbled over something inside the swamp. I fell into the murky depths and saw a shriveled hand grasping my ankle. Before I could even try to kick it away, it dragged me downwards to the bottom of the marshland.
For the longest time, I was stranded in darkness (I know, this already sounds weird enough, but I am just getting started), and the only thing that accompanied my existence was the faint sound of knitting needles…knitting, I guess.
From somewhere within the dark void, someone clucked her tongue.
"Piteous child," the voice was old and raspy. It was as if an 80-year-old grandma who never drank a glass of water was talking. "Curse your father for fearing the inevitable."
"What?"
The voice continued as if I didn't say anything.
"For every strand we weave, there must come an end."
"That is the true meaning of fate."
"Of Us."
A loud snip from a scissor, I'd assume, echoed across the vacuum.
Bubbles arose from around me, and a sudden salty taste enveloped the tip of my lips. The next thing I know, my head was bursting through the ocean, in clear view of the beach in front.
I immediately recognized the beach. It was the coast of San Francisco. It was easier to notice the location because the old Sea god Nereus was lying flat on the sand, whimpering and out of breath. He was seriously beaten up. Golden Ichor, the blood of the gods dripped down his crooked nose.
What surprised me was the one towering over the Sea god. Black jeans, combat boots, a black leather duster with a pair of sunglasses—I'd see that combination of clothing from a mile away.
"Dad?" I shouted, but my voice seemed to become lost in the strong wind.
On the other hand, it delivered the voices from the shores to me without any trouble.
"I can do this all day, you old geezer! Answer my question!" Ares roared.
"I can't!" Nereus wailed.
A tidal wave surged up in response to his voice. The sea god tried to leap into the current, turning into a small seal in mid-jump, but that was not going to stop Ares from kicking him right in the middle.
The seal god yelped as he was flung back, crash-land in the sand, and he writhed in pain as his transformation wore off. Now he had a huge bruise over his right side added amongst the other various injuries he had.
"Dad, stop!"
I knew this was a dream—or a vision—whatever. The point is, of the grand list of things I didn't want to see, my dad being a bully was certainly on the top. Besides, I've met Nereus. Sure, he was cranky and weird, but he didn't deserve to get knocked around like a soccer ball. If this was my dream, then I should be able to stop it, right?
I tried to make it to shore, but the sea seemed to push me back with equal strength. No matter how hard I paddled forward, I couldn't advance an inch.
On the beach, Nereus seemed to have finally cracked.
"Fine, fine!" The old sea god wailed with his hands up in surrender. Ares stepped back, his fists still clenched tightly.
"Talk." He growled, and Nereus gulped.
"W, well, if you're going to hide the String—"
A large shadow cast overhead. I looked up, and there was a giant wave crashing down. I was too preoccupied with the scene happening on the waterfront to notice the titanic waves sloshing across the ocean. Before I could hear another word from either god, the wave struck, engulfing the entire world under the surface.
When I opened my eyes again, I was in my room.
My room. Not the small living room where I was forced to sleep at machete's. This was the house I lived in with my ma; when I was less than 9. As such, the details of the room were pretty off. To be exact, there was nothing to be called 'detailed' in this room. It was a blank space with only the warm, orange light I remembered so fondly existing inside.
Someone was sitting in the middle of the room. It was a lady, I think. It was hard to tell with her, or their entire body covered by the large black robes, but the hands holding twin torches were small, sleek, and soft; more feminine than masculine, if you will.
The (presumably) woman was silently sobbing. The voice was barely audible, but I could bet my life twice on the fact that something horrible had happened to this person, and it was unbearable to her.
As I stepped closer, the woman's features became more and more familiar. I remembered the short height. The slightly bent shoulders because of all the work…
"Ma?" I asked.
The woman turned around. To my surprise, it wasn't my ma. Or anyone else, for that matter. Because even when she was facing me, the black robe over her made it impossible for me to make out her face.
The woman reached out from under the dark garment. Her hands were deathly pale as if they never made touch with sunlight for decades. Those white hands trembled as they outstretched and carefully caressed my cheeks.
A faint whisper escaped from her. It was vaguely Ancient Greek-ish, but I couldn't make out what it meant.
"Pardon?"
"Wake up," A different voice echoed. The woman retracted her hands and turned her back.
I blinked. "What?"
"Wake up!"
My eyes shot open.
A pair of amber eyes was staring down with eyebrows scrunched up into a stern expression. The face was upside down, but even then, the general features were so identical to Zoë that I nearly called out her name, until my brain caught up with the different colored eyes.
"Erytheia…?" I coughed. My throat was drier than the Sahara Desert. A faint scent of blood clawed up the back of my throat as I wheezed for breath.
After I calmed down from spluttering over breathable air, Erytheia placed a small cup made out of wood on my lip. I drank it without asking what it was—it was one of the most refreshing cups of water I've ever drunk.
"Where did you get this?"
"Asterope," Erytheia said bluntly. It didn't make any sense to me, but I nodded nonetheless.
Now that I was done throwing a fit, I started to notice my surroundings.
The most prominent thing was, of course, my missing arm. Well, forearm to be exact. I didn't cut off from my shoulder, because that would've been significantly harder to slice through with a knife.
Still, it was more painful than I braced to see a short stump where my hand used to be—both physically and emotionally.
"Oh, stop acting so glum." I turned in time to see Erytheia roll her eyes, "You made that choice on your own, haven't you?"
"Yeah, I did."
She had a point. And there weren't any chains around Erytheia's ankles, which meant everything went as it should have.
I also noticed that a bunch of different herbs was piled around her feet. Some of them I recognized because it was covering the edge of the stump like a bandage. Erytheia saw where my eyes were and quickly shunted them aside with her foot and folded her arms.
"Don't get any strange ideas—"
"Thanks."
Erytheia went silent with a grumpy expression across her face. After a long pause, she muttered: "It was the least I could do," then looked away.
I took the moment to take a look around. It was a sort of tent made out of pure nature. Huge leaves piled on themselves to make a roof, from where dozens of small flowers luminated in a faint silver light.
"That's Moonlace," Erytheia commented. "It's one of the few plants in this garden that isn't made by Hygeia."
I frowned at her choice of words. From them, it sounded as if Hygeia—one of the Hesperides has created the majority of plant lives within the garden, instead of just growing them.
Erytheia nodded with a small proud grin. "You seemed to have forgotten; we are daughters of a Titan. When we were born, no one ever gave too much thought to the surface of the earth."
"So, you're saying you took care of them?"
"Not just us; the Pleiades, Hyades…we all took our parts. Our grandfather liked nature, you see. Even though he was ruthless."
"Iapetus?" I vaguely recalled the Titan's name for being Atlas's father. By the typical family tree, that would make the Titan of the West the grandfather to Hesperides.
Erytheia nodded, staring off into the far distance through the Moonlace. In her eyes, there seemed to be a reflection of various deities running around the desolate world, bringing life and giving meaning to them.
It never occurred to me how that must've happened. Gaea was the source of nature sprites, which was as far as most folklore bothered to dive into. I never thought about how they were raised. Now I knew.
Then, a sudden realization came over me.
"That's why nymphs hated Zoë. It was because they thought she betrayed all of you. And Zoë was bitter with them because—"
"—the nymphs reminded her of her prison. Or, perhaps us."
Erytheia brought her eyes down to me. She was silently asking if that was true or not.
"I don't think Zoë would've hated any of you. You're all sisters."
"Sisters…" Erytheia echoed the word as if it was an alienating concept in her dictionary. "Just because we have the same father and mother? That's supposed to mend the thousands of years of absence between us?"
"No," I admitted. "But if we were to say Zoë had a different parentage, that wouldn't change that you're fond of her, would it?"
The Hesperid scoffed indignantly. "I'm not fond of her."
"I doubt that."
Erytheia struggled to come up with a retort, but she soon gave up and sighed. Her shoulders sagged down, and her head hung low.
"And what would it matter if I am, or am not when she is lost forever?"
"…Pardon?"
[Line Break]
[3rd Person Pov]
When she stepped into the ruins of the Titans, Reyna expected various sets of horrifying interiors far beyond the compressions of men.
Total darkness was one aspect she didn't consider at all, which knocked her off her feet.
Zoë had also stopped dead in her tracks. As a daughter of a second-generation Titan, she was born and raised within these walls. Back then, the light was much scarce; but it was never pitch black like now.
"It's like the sky collapsed..." Reyna muttered.
Zoë's eyes widened. "Artemis."
It was impossible to catch sight of anything in the dark. Even so, Reyna heard the flurry of footsteps from the Huntress and jogged after them.
"What about Artemis? I thought she would be holding up the Sky?" The praetor asked.
"She's trapped under the Sky, yes; but she can't keep it aloft. The weight would be too much for her. If we don't hurry, Uranus would crash upon the earth!"
Reyna glanced up at the pitch blackness overhead. Now that her eyes had adjusted, she noticed the small twinklings in the ceilings.
"So, you mean this—" Reyna pointed up, "—is the Sky?"
"It's Uranus, so yes."
Reyna barely swallowed the lump in her throat. Suddenly, managing an entire camp full of 200 demigods' legacies didn't seem too much of a daunting task.
It was metaphysical enough to think that the Sky was something tangible. To imagine it was basically hovering 4ft over her head was something else entirely.
Zoë's hurried steps stopped abruptly. With the faint glows coming from the Sky, Reyna saw the grim and stoic expression upon the huntress.
"If thou are having second thoughts, go back now. Facing an army of monsters would be a far easier challenge than what awaits upfront."
Reyna hesitated for a long second.
"Reyna, we can't go together. We must go our separate ways from now on."
Behind the cold words of Zoë Nightshade, she saw her older sister; from all that time ago. And by making the comparison now, did she realize that Hylla wasn't afraid of her?
She was afraid of what was to come to her—whatever it had been and had forcefully detracted her younger sister from it.
That made her furious. Partially to Hylla, and partially to herself.
To Reyna, Hylla's choice meant that even after everything they had been through, she was treated as a younger sister; a being who needed protection.
And her choice—doing nothing—meant that she certified her older sister's concern.
It was infuriating to think that it was more than a year for her to realize this simplest of facts; and she had spent most of the time doing nothing, again.
So, this time, she decided to do otherwise.
"I thought we were on a time limit. Let's go."
"Reyna—"
The praetor of New Rome raised her forefinger to silence Zoë.
"I don't think you have met many Romans, lieutenant of Diana. But Romans do not turn back in face of peril.
Besides, I'm fairly positive you would be a tad outmatched. No offense."
Zoë huffed, although the smallest smile spread over her lips. She wondered who was the godly parent of this Latino, because she reminded her of David, of all people, in a way.
Namely, their willingness to shove their hand into the fire. Perhaps it might be something about being an offspring of a war god.
But she didn't hate that aspect of either of them.
"Very well, Praetor," Zoë replied. "Try not to fall too behind me while I sprint, will you?"
[Line Break]
Reyna silently swore to herself that if and when she makes out of this alive and well, she'd double the time on mid- to long-distance running.
She was never accused of being slow, mind you; on the contrary, like many other things, she was considered to be one of the top runners within the Camp.
Then again, the environment around her wasn't encouraging in any way.
As they went in deeper into the ruin, the Sky became lower and lower, and the air seemed to be compressed under it as well. It was getting denser by every step, making every breath feel like a gulp of thick syrup.
The strengthened air pressure resisted any movement, including her arms and legs. It was as if she was trying to run through water.
On the other side, Zoë was in her full sprint. Unlike Reyna, the huntress was hardly affected by the tightening air around her thanks to her bloodline.
Therefore, Zoë wasn't too thrilled about the fact that her movement was as free as it was. She stopped on a toppled pillar and looked back.
"How are they holding up?"
"Good..." Reyna panted, her forehead beaded with sweat. "...Never felt better."
"Reyna, a blind man can see that thou are straining."
Reyna let out a frustrated grunt and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. "What is going on? Is the Sky collapsing? You said Lady Diana wouldn't be able to support the burden."
Which wasn't something a loyal lieutenant would say, the praetor thought to herself. However, she refrained from asking about it.
Zoë, meanwhile, looked forward into the darkness ahead. A faint current of wind brushed past the edge of her shoulder.
"She can't," Zoë confirmed, "But the Earth won't let the Sky collapse on top of her."
"I see." Reyna was, of course, aware of the famous story of Uranus and Gaia's tale, which was Zoë was referencing.
The huntress had smartly avoiding direct name calls considering they were closesr to both of them than any mortal being has ever been before.
The thought sent a shiver down Reyna. Throughout the myths, Gaia and Uranus—the two Protogenoi were not exactly shown in a good light.
Although she didn't know much in Mythology, the idea of being sandwiched between the two most powerful beings wasn't a pleasant thought.
"Why did we stop here?"
"Because we can't go any further." Zoë extended her arm to prove her point. Her hand abruptly stopped in mid-air.
Reyna reached forward, and indeed, there was an invisible wall blocking their path. A quick search confirmed that there weren't any lope holes to utilize.
The praetor sighed in a mixture of distraught and relief, then turn around to Zoë.
"...I'd suppose you have something in mind?"
Zoë raised her eyebrow. "What gave thee that idea?"
"Well, you aren't particularly devastated, for one."
"Fair enough." The huntress put both her hands on the wall. "This is no ordinary passage-blocker. It is a barrier made intentionally for protection."
"Protect from that?" Reyna pointed up at the Sky, now barely a foot over their head.
"Hopefully. But it may well as be to protect what's on the other side from the outside."
"What do you mean?"
"Let's find out." Zoë took a deep breath. Out of all the language she'd learnt over thousand of years, she never guessed she'd have to use the first one ever again.
The daughter of Atlas started to chant in the oldest tongue—the language that was passed on to the 12 Titans from the Earth Mother, from the 12 Titans to their children, and their children to their offsprings and so on...until the Titans were wiped off the history.
Reyna had no idea what Zoë was speaking, or what language was she was using. The closest feeling she ever had was when Circe would channel magic through the lyrics of her song; and even then, she could tell Zoë's tongue was much more older.
The invisible blockade started to crack open by the middle. A brilliant silver light blasted out through the cracks and singed Reyna's arm.
"Now!" Zoë, seemingly unaffected by the light, leaped forward and grabbed the roman demigoddess by her wrist.
Before she could complain, Zoë ran through the fissure. The blinding silver light made Reyna close her eyes. She heard the crack of the seal behind her close up once more.
[Line Break]
[David's Pov]
"I need to go inside."
The four Hesperides stared at me with four different expressions. They were just done from telling me what had happened after I was out of commission.
Personally, I didn't care too much for what any of them thought; I was going into the ruins. Even if the entire pantheon of the Olympian gods told me not to.
Still, one of the Hesperides—Hygeia, judging by the pair of dark green eyes full of concern—stood up after me and gently grasped the hem of my sleeve.
"But hero, you know it would be futile. You are already heavily wounded from your battle with Ladon."
I shrugged her arm away the best I could. It was harder than it had to be with one arm, which did indirectly proove her point, but that wasn't going to stop me.
"Where is my sword?" I looked around the garden. My pockets have been empty when I've woken up; of every and all magical functions it had, returning to me wasn't one of them.
Hygeia opened her mouth for another volley of worried talk when Lipara stepped in by raising her hand nonchalantly. "I say we help him. He is going to help Zoë, isn't he?"
"But Zoë told us to keep him away. You are aware of it, right?" Asterope mumbled, sending a sideways glance in my direction.
"I am." I admitted.
"Then why—"
"Because I don't stay out of things; not when anyone close to me is involved. If am asked to do so or not is...I don't care about it."
"Quite an assertive stance." Erytheia said, looking at my significantly shorter right arm. "I'm starting to see the war god within you."
It was the first time that anyone said that I resembled my father in any way. However, I couldn't care any less at the moment.
"And?"
Erytheia sighed and closed her eyes. "Very well. I'll help you on your way."
"Erytheia. You can't let him go!" Hygeia tried to argue, but the oldest Hesperid shook her head.
"You heard what our hero have said; he's going either way. Unelss you can convince him to do otherwise?"
Hygeia gaped at thin air like a goldfish out of the water before slowly sinking down to her seat with a defeated look.
That made me realize something. It seemed like none of the Hesperides were going to come with me.
I'd guessed at least some of them would've been interested since it was their sister in danger.
"Aren't you guys going to help Zoë as well?" I asked.
Erytheia whipped back, offended. "Pardon?"
On the other hand, a smile started to creep up Lipara's face. "See? He gets it. We can all go up the mountain—"
"Don't be ridiculous!" Erytheia snapped furiously, making her younger sister flinch. The eldest Hesperid sighed, rubbing between her eyes and continued in a calmer voice.
"Look, Lipara. We've been over this. You were born after the Titan War. Neither you, or this man for that matter, doesn't know Atlas like we do. It is impossible to stand against him."
"Zoë stood up to him." I pointed out.
Asterope gave a glum expression. "After 2000 years of outside-world combat experience, yes. We spent that time gardening, trapped under his influence."
I blinked. "His influence?"
Erytheia scoffed as if I was acting insensitive. "Of course mankind won't know. There wouldn't be any story telling you about how it is to live because none of your ancestors have stayed here longer than an hour!
For the first thousand years, Atlas would curse every god he can think of for trapping him under the Sky.
His voice shook the sky, tore open the earth—we used coware in a cave because for the longest time, we could never be sure that our father would stay trapped for long.
Even Ladon is afraid of him. Look—"
Erytheia pointed far away to the dragon. Its hundred heads were all staring into the direction of the mountain. It paced up and down, several of the heads hissing, but indeed it made no effort to actually advance.
"Trust me, Ladon as close to Zoë as we are. And even he can't bare to take a step toward Othrys."
"We are not fighters, hero. We cannot aid directly in battle." Hygeia added.
"Well...we can still use magic...can't we?" Lipara carefully suggested. "I doubt even Atlas would know about most of our incantation
"No, he wouldn't. But I can assure you, if the Offsprings of Kronos couldn't overpower him, a couple of spells we can use won't help."
With that as her final words, Erytheia stood up, dusting her chiton and shooting a cold glare that reminded me of the first time I met Zoë. It was barely a week ago, and yet it felt such a long time ago.
Lipara didn't argue any further. Instead, she hug her legs around her chest and burried her face in them.
Asterope and Hygeia sat next to either side of their youngest sister and whispered comforting words, while Erytheia beckoned me to follow her.
[Line Break]
It was a new experience to walk with one and a half arm. I kept veering off to the left, since my weight was more centered to the direction.
Erytheia was moodier than usual. While she stomped forward, she'd take a look back at the huddled group of her sisters every so often.
"You know, you didn't have to be that harsh to her." I said.
Erytheia hissed at me like Ladon. "Don't tell me how to be an older sibling."
I opened my mouth to argue. Barring everyone at Cabin 5 (since they weren't younger than me), I did have a younger sister of my own.
But the whole unresolved issues with Rose actually made me say the opposite fromwhat I inteded to.
"...yeah, you're right. I don't."
Erytheia blinked, taken aback. "I am?"
"I have a younger sister too. Her name is Rose...and things are pretty complicated between us at the moment; mostly because I'm not good at being an older sibling."
I decided to hold up on the messed up history between us. I still couldn't remember most of them aside of few fragmentary shots of us having a good time...
...but they all headed toward that one faithful day when I smahsed open her parent's head, and ran away. I know she said she hadn't cared for them back at Niobe'a castle, but still. It was a horrific sight to leave an 6~8 years old child alone at.
Not to mention that I cast her aside at Niobe's castle as well. Joining her wasn't an option, but perhaps I could've convinced her to
"Sounds difficult." Erytheia said. "I hope you can make amends with her."
"I'll have to." I said with certainty. I was planning on asking Artemis for help in my search for her after we succeed in the mission—which was one more reason I had to succeed.
"You can make one too, if you help—"
Erytheia cut me off by letting out a frustrated sigh. "How's leading the rest of my sisters to peril make me a good sister?"
I couldn't answer that. Especially not when I knew substantially less about Atlas than she did. We walked in silence for some time until Erytheia suddenly broke it.
"Do you...really think Zoë didn't hate us?" She asked.
"From the week I've known her, I'm certain she doesn't."
The Hesperid raised her eyebrow. "That doesn't sound very certain..."
"You'd be surprised how much you can learn about someone over a week." I answered back with a smile.
"You're an idiot." Erytheia decided. I shrugged; she was right, in a way.
"If that makes me an idiot, then I have no regrets on how I live."
Erytheia didn't make a retort, but her expression told me she was in deep thoughts until we arrived at our destination.
"...We're here."
Erytheia said, looking up at the golden apple tree, magnificent as ever under the night sky as it was under sunset.
The apples glowed in a faint golden aura, making them more tempting than before; at least until a few heads of Ladon growled as a warning.
I guess even I was only allowed to take one apple.
"Why are we here?"
"Well, for one. Your sword."
Erytheia pointed up at the one of the high point of the tree trunk. It was barely discernible through the night sky, but there was my sword stuck half way down to the hilt.
"Wait, but if you put that there, doesn't that mean you wanted me to come back here?"
Erytheia didn't confirm or denied my accusation, but I had a fairly good chance that if I had wanted to go back as Zoë had wanted, she'd have taunted me to go further and challenge Atlas.
"...What?" Erytheia frowned as I stared at her.
"Nothing." I said with a grin.
All in all, she wanted Zoë to be safe. And despite all her attitudes and degrading words, she was hoping that I would make that a possibility.
Erytheia's frown deepened, but she continued. "As you can see, your sword is stuck against the tree. If you can get it back, you'll retrieve your weapon.
And before you return, there is something else you must take from the tree."
"The apple?" I asked hopefully.
Erytheia snorted. "If you want to get eaten by Ladon, go ahead. No. What you need is a branch."
"A branch?"
"The immorality is embedded within the entire tree. The apple is the easiest way to achieve, and even suitable for mortals without any repercussions.
The branch's magic is much rawer; uncontained, but far more powerful if used correctly."
"And I need it because..."
"Because you'll need something better than your regular arm if you ever want to stand an ounce of a chance against Atlas."
"And save Zoë."
"Whatever." Erytheia waved her hand, urging me to get going.
Ladon's growl grew louder as I approached the tree. Ironically, I could tell how much he cared for Zoë by how much fewer heads took attention to the incoming potential apple thief.
Even when I had reached the edge of the root, only 1/3 of the heads were glaring down. All of the others were still more or less focused on the mountain.
"Hey, buddy. Uh, Long time no see, huh?"
Ladon growled as I carefully stepped forward.
I didn't have dragon-tongue as an ability, but I could tell that it was already showing off an incredible case of self-preservation; its neck muscles pulsated as I took each step closer and closer to it.
"I'm not here for the apples. I'd—do with them. I don't need them anymore." I added the last sentence more to remind myself of the fact that anything else.
That thing was so tempting. It hit all the primal instincts a man would have; the sight, the smell, the imaginary taste...even though I wasn't particularly interested in immorality, it was insanely difficult to willingly pass by on it.
No wonder a 10-year-long war broke out over it. Come to think of it, none of the three goddesses would've needed the apple, to begin with. And yet it made them fight over who was worthy to have it.
I know technically it had to do with the writing on it saying "To the most beautiful goddess", but now I had a fleeting suspension that the magic of the golden apple was a major player in sparking the lust of the three goddesses.
It was that powerful. Maybe even Ladon's dedication to protecting the tree was fueled by its greed. In many folklores, Dragons were depicted to be greedy after all.
And it couldn't be a coincidence that Ladon was one of the few monsters to be claimed as 'Immortal'. Perhaps it took a bite out of one of the apples—
I slapped myself on the left cheek. The action through off my balance and I nearly tripped over my foot, which was one way to snap out of my derailing train of thoughts.
The dragon's eyes bore down with skepticism. I clenched my fist tightly as possible, and stared directly at the apple, instead of trying to avoid looking at it.
At first, nothing. And then, the golden aura around the apple seemed to grow bigger. Shinning like a miniature sun, reaching toward my soul; it had been waiting for me to arrive. All this time, that piece of fruit was grown and protected for me—
"Yeah, no. I don't need the god damned fruit."
Ladon squinted his many eyes. If I were to make a hopeful guess, I'd say he was impressed.
Hopefully.
I turned my eyes back to the closest head of the dragon.
"I need to get my sword. See up there?" I pointed upwards at my sword. Two or three heads extended their necks up to the trunk. One of them clasped the hilt between his teeth and spat the sword at my feet.
I looked down at my weapon covered in saliva, which smell made me wish I sacrificed my nose instead of my arm.
"Uh, thanks. I also need a branch—"
Ladon snapped his jaw.
"—Without the apple, obviously." I hurriedly added.
Ladon seemed to ponder for a long time, and then one of the heads settled down in front of me, shaping a rising roadway to one of the apple-less branches.
I would've been more touched if not for the rest of the heads all glowering at me from every direction possible, poised to attack as soon as I show different intentions.
To be fair, even with imminent threats of violent death hovering wherever I saw, it wasn't easy to resist taking a glance at the apples.
Even so, I managed to make it to the branch without any trouble. I sought out a branch roughly long as my forearm and sliced it.
It looked like a regular branch. It didn't radiate power like the fruit it bore, or glow in gold. Though, as I was about to make my way back, I noticed the tree branch I'd cut off had already regrown.
Erytheia was waiting for me with crossed arms. When I made it next to her, she took the branch and muttered some magic to it.
I'm sorry, but that's the best description I can offer. I didn't know anything about magic.
"Good work. Now stick it into your arm.
Oh, and before you do...I should warn you that there is a fair chance of combusting into flames and dying."
"Excuse me?"
"Well, I heard mortal bodies combust when they consume too much Ambrosia or Nectar. Their magic is derived from the tree, therefore embedded in the branch as well."
"..."
I looked down at the tree branch with hesitation. I wasn't a fan of the idea of combusting and dying on the spot.
But then again, it was the only option I had at the moment. After a deep breath, I closed my eyes shut, and stuck the branch into my right arm.
Barring the initial pain of reopening my wound, the sensation was...weird.
In mere seconds, I felt the branch sprouting out into my body like roots, and the exposed part of it quickly shifting into a fleshy-looking substance, its edges splitting out into five, and then—Voilà! New arm!
"Wow..." I wiggled my right hand in awe. "This feels totally legit!"
"Because it is," Erytheia smirked. "Now, are you ready to leave?"
"You're not going to come with?"
The smile over the Hesperid's face rapidly faded out.
"...David, I can't. I..." Her voice trailed away as she closed her eyes, and I was surprised to see a single track of tear run down by the edge of her eyes.
"I'll make sure Zoë is safe. I promise."
Erytheia quickly wiped her face and smiled. "Don't make promises you can't keep."
"I am going to keep it. I, um, promise that too."
Admittedly, not one of my smoothest moments.
At least Erytheia found it funny for some reason, because she giggled shortly, before looking at me with wistful eyes.
"...Then, make sure you're safe too, hero."
At that moment, she looked so similar to Zoë that I couldn't say or do anything, and Erytheia stepped forward to plant a short kiss on my cheek.
"Wha—"
The Hesperid giggled once more.
"Mind you, the Hesperides have surprisingly similar preferences in men. We all loved Heracles once. Now the history is repeating."
"Wait, but that means—"
"I hope thee won't lead us to tragedy."
Erytheia waved her hands. A powerful gust of Mist blasted out, obscuring my vision.
When I could see again, I was standing on a slope of a mountain under the full moon.
...look, I'm not the brightest kid in a lot of subjects. Ans Love is something I can't understand in my life; up there with mathematics and the reason why everyone hates Diet Coke.
I only realized Percy and Annabeth were a thing in the aftermath of the Capture the Flag; when Selena, I believe it was the name of one of the counselors, told me.
A loud thundercrack snapped me out of my thoughts. Oddly, there weren't any clouds that would strike lightning.
Maybe this wasn't the best time to ponder about relationships. I flexed my new right arm a few times—not a single discomfort I could think of. On the contrary, it felt much stronger than my regular arm.
"Let's go."
I started to hike my way up the mountain.
[Line Break]
[3rd Person's Pov]
Reyna thought she had seen everything there was to see in life.
It might be a bold claim for a 12-year-old to make, but in that twelve years, she'd seen her father turn into a ghost, murder said ghost-dad, serve an immortal witch in a spa located in the middle of a Bermuda Triangle, get captured by pirates, to finally end up in a secret camp hidden near the Caldecott Tunnel.
Yeah, it was a lot. And added with all the surprises she went through today, she was certain that nothing could pull the rug under her from now on.
As usual, she couldn't be any more wrong.
Even before the blinding silver light died out, Reyna's lungs relished the air on the other side of the barrier.
It wasn't just that it wasn't compressed into a near-solid matter by the Sky; it was certainly different in comparison with the regular air.
She couldn't describe what made it different, but it was certainly better.
Only a few breaths in, she felt stronger than ever before. Blood seemed to pump through the veins with newfound energy, her muscles tensing, getting a kick out of the advanced source of power.
When she was done fathoming over the air, she opened her eyes. And what she saw definitely yanked the rug from under her feet.
The room, so to say, wasn't actually a room. It was an wide open area. The praetor took no time in recognizing the place as an arena—a practice ground for various combat situations.
Around the perimeter, 12 pillars held up the ceiling, where there was a huge hole as if someone threw the world's most powerful javilin through it.
What was odd was that, unlike the passageway they just ran through, here the sky was different. It was filled with an array swirling colors, as if stars hadn't decided to exsist on the cosmos yet.
Speaking of the sky, the night sky that inhabited the world outside was layered over the ground like a large black blanket embedded with stars.
And under the veil of night, a seventeen year old girl with auburn hair and tattered silvery hunting outfits was struggling.
"Artemis!" Zoë rushed forward, but a stray booming laughter made her stop in her tracks.
There was a throne propped in the middle of the arena. On bith armrests, a museum worth of weaponry was at display: giant silver axe tattered with gold blood, a pair of twin javilins that was sharp enough to pierce the marble floor just by its weight, and so on.
But whatever weapon was held on the throne, they were far less intimidating than the one sitting in it.
He was easily reaching over 10fts in height, and his shoulder was large enough that the height seemed insignificant compared to it. His stone grey eyes bore into his daughter with a mild sense of intrigue, which made Zoë step back without thinking.
The hulking deity slowly raised his meaty hands and brought them together.
Clap!
Clap!
Clap!
A blast of wind caused by the clapping swept across the entire rink.
Reyna balled her hands into fists—not out of rage or excitement, but to keep them from shaking uncontrollably.
Her eyes darted next to the throne, where a small water pool and a campfire were ready. Thalia was just raising her eyes from the lit fireplace and met Reyna's gaze.
Even though she had warned Reyna not to pursue any further, she didn't look particularly upset that her most recent friend was here.
The expression on her face was stoic and cold, set in motion. Some might even call it determined. Reyna was used to that expression—it was the same one she found whenever she looked into the mirror.
It had its benefits, but she knew firsthand that it wasn't good for whoever was wearing the mask.
There was also a blonde boy slightly older than Thalia's age standing next to the pool. He had a red angry scar across his face, which rippled as he frowned over the surface of the water, muttering something into a silvery ornament.
Both Thalia and the boy had a similar streak of grey hair mixed in with their natural hair.
And finally, an empousa was sitting near the boy. She licked her lips between a row of sharp fangs, excited at the aspect of a new demigod to feast upon.
Then, the Titan started to speak. Everyone's attention was naturally brought towards him as he rose to his full colossal height.
"A touching act of loyalty." Atlas's voice was another thing Reyna didn't expect. For someone that battle-hardened and (seemingly) ruthless, it was more gentle than fierce.
Of course, her initial impression was thrown out the window by the next set of dialogs.
"If only you could've shown some for your own father, Zoë. Such a shame. Your blood will wash my weapons for the upcoming war."
Zoë returned an answer by notching an arrow and sending it flying to his face. The whole process took less than a second; Reyna was barely able to follow it with her eyes.
But Atlas roared with laughter again, as if he was getting threatened by some 5-year-old kid with a stick.
With nonsensical reflexes, the General somehow caught the arrows between his fingers.
He inspected the arrow with mild interest before flicking his finger. Suddenly, Zoë's silver bow shattered into pieces and the huntress was flung backward with a cry of pain.
"Hey!" Reyna hurried over to the crumpled huntress.
A silver arrow was impaled on Zoë's right forearm, the tip pointed out from the other side. It had completely ruined her arm.
There was still at least 30ft in distance between the two. It was insane to think that anyone can shoot that hard; let alone achieve it by flicking it between their fingers.
"Oh?" Atlas raised one of his eyebrows as Reyna flipped her gold coin, which fell as a golden gladius.
"Interesting weapon." The Titan said, his silver eyes twinkling with interest. "But that is too short for a blade."
"Compared to regular greek swords, maybe." The roman demigod raised her weapon. "But it is no less effective at tearing through opponents!"
"Reyna, don't," Zoë muttered through the pain as she adjusted the arrow in her arm. But her warning was drowned against the roaring guffaw of her father.
"Then by all means; try out your luck, demigod! I would like nothing more than a proper challenge, after all the days I had to spend trapped under the Sky!"
Reyna was poised for an attack. Unlike many would guess, she had acted without thinking.
Ever since she had entered this place, her senses had opened up; especially with her prowess in battle.
If she was ever going to attack some divine deity, there was no better time than now. Until, at least, she was actually standing face-to-face against the General.
Although Atlas was seemingly wide open and weaponless, Reyna quickly figured out that there weren't any openings to attack. Whichever way she'd advance, her brain simulated it ending with her getting smacked to the ground.
"What's wrong?" Atlas gloated. "I thought your sword wasn't short—or do you need something else?"
He spread his arms out wide; leaving his abdomen partly empty. Reyna threw caution to the wind and dove in.
Atlas boomed with glee as his bait worked perfectly. The Titan raised his hand to squash the charging demigod, but right when she was about to enter the striking distance, a stray spear tip swooshed in from the side.
Reyna instantly leap backward as Thalia stepped in between the two.
"Thalia!" Luke shouted in a warning tone.
Atlas grunted in dissatisfaction and looked down upon the daughter of Zeus in confrontation with the other demigoddess.
Come to think of it, he couldn't tell what her divine parentage was. He'd natural guess would be Ares or Athena, but based on his knowledge of the two war gods, neither option seem too likely.
"What is the meaning of this, Daughter of Zeus?" Atlas rumbled. "I don't appreciate third parties interrupting my battle."
Thalia spun her spear, slammed the hilt against the ground, and gave a semi-bow to the Titan.
"General, I'm sure you'd like to save your strength for the bigger fishes later on. I have been waiting for far too long doing nothing; I'm sure you can understand the pain of boredom?"
"Hmm." Atlas stroked his chin. He certainly did know first-hand, how horrible it was to stand in one place and wait for something to happen.
He knew the blasted daughter of Zeus was playing him on his ego; just like her father had done all those years ago, but then again, she wasn't much of a threat to him as well.
Power to overthrow the Olympus...as if that'll be enough to put a stop on a Titan!
Luke, son of Hermes." He called. Luke barely contained his scowl at his alias. "Yes, General?"
"How long do you think it would take for the Ophiotaurus?"
Luke glowered at the ornament in his hand before closing his fist around it. "It might take longer than I've thought. The provider is having trouble with getting the beast to do our bidding."
"Oh, maybe I can help with that, Luke." Kellie cooed. She tried to trace one of her fingers down his scar, only to get her hand slapped away.
After giving him her cutest pout, Kelli turned to face the General. "I'm sure I can tow a sea cow back within half an hour, sir. You know what I'm capable of."
"Empousa Kelli, was it?"
Kelli nodded. Atlas considered for a brief moment, then sat back on his throne.
With a snap of his fingers, a burst of invisible energy blasted in 360 angles around Thalia and Reyna, pushing anything and everything nearby—namely Zoë—away from them.
Zoë landed back on her feet, then she realized that her wounded arm was perfectly healed up.
She looked up at her father with distaste; not in a million years would she ever think that this action was out of the goodness of his heart—no, he was setting up something else.
"Empousa Kelli, you will bring the Ophiotaurus in 30 minutes or your life."
"No sweat." Kelli winked at Luke, sneered at Thalia, and then dissolved into the shadows.
With a wide grin hanging from ear to ear, Atlas turned to the 4 mortals under his foot. 2 on his side, and 2 on the other.
"In the meantime; Luke and Thalia. I would like to see what you two have to say about your skills. Nonentities have no place in my army."
Thalia raised her spear without a word. Luke glanced at his partner with mild frustration but drew his sword—backbiter as well.
Reyna flipped her gladius in mid-air, which turned into a Pilums. As her bow was shattered into pieces, Zoë opted for her knives, only to find one of the pair with her.
Then she remembered; she had given her knife to David, inadvertently aiding in his crazed self-harming plan.
Still, she drew that one knife. With a press on the moon signature on the hilt, the silver blade extended until it could pass as a hunting sword.
"Let me fight Thalia," Reyna muttered to Zoë. "Fighting someone armed with spear and shield with only a single sword is not ideal."
Zoë glanced at Thalia and Luke. It was a short experience, but there was a time when they met.
Thalia had traits of becoming a great hunter, but she refused to join them because of her 'friends'. Even then, Zoë knew the real reason was less about the younger Annabeth than she'd let on.
Then, she thought Thalia was yet another victim of male beings. Now, Zoë could at least understand Thalia's point of view.
Still, that didn't mean her resentment for the boy responsible for ruining a maiden's life has diminished in the slightest.
If she was going to fight anyone out of Atlas, she might as well go for him.
"Very well. But we need to conserve energy as best we can. Atlas is not someone we can handle at our best."
"Sounds...achievable."
Reyna doubted what she said herself, but hefted her Pilums nonetheless. She and Thalia locked eyes with each other, their spears—and in the case of Thalia, her shield Aegis—ready.
Zoë turned to face Luke with a stoic expression. She marveled at how the few days with David has really changed her because it felt ages since she had given another male a cold stare.
She hoped wherever he was now—hopefully going back to Camp—David won't be too mad with her.
Atlas observed the four contestants facing each other in a showdown and slammed his foot on the ground.
The resounding thump was quickly covered up by the sounds of four pairs of feet quickly leaping into combat.
Hey, I'm back.
(Thunk)
Here is your milk.
So. It has been 3 weeks since my last update. Which is the longest hiatus I've ever taken.
I have various excuses to why: School is back on session, math is a pain, exam is coming, math is the worst, I've lost my touch in the story, mathematics is literally the worst subject ever, etc.
No joke, the first 2000 words took 2 weeks to write. The rest of it I wrote it in a day. It be like that sometimes.
I'd save any comments about my work this time. I'm already agitated to post it; for once, I don't have anything too against it. It's not my favorite chapter, but it holds up well.
It's good to be back. It is now offcially in time range for me to study for exams(especially since I've already failed a class or two last semester), but I'll probably come with a new chapter faster than another 3 weeks.
Oh, I also picked up Avatar: The Last Airbender on Netflix. Never watched the series before, about 12 episodes in, and I'm fasinated by it so far.
It also helps in motivation department, so I guess that's neat.
I hope you had a fun time reading, I'll see you all in the next chapter.
Ta ta~
