Chapter Two: The Mountain of Ruin

The two of them stood at the top of the tallest mountain Percy had ever seen. In front of him were the ruins of a great castle. It was made of a black marble, dulled and lifeless. Great stone towers reached into the sky like skeletal fingers, reaching towards the sky in a frozen gasp. The doors have been rotted away, leaving the main hall born open for the world to see. A massive hole had been smashed into the ceiling, allowing sunlight to peirce inside, and through the dust and ash, Percy could make out a long hall with a dozen great statues, several of which had been toppled. At the far end of the hall, Percy spied a Black Throne, made of the black obsidian. The throne was decorated with gold, diamonds and precious jewels, but they were muted and faded. The throne itself seemed small, like it had shrunk in the wash. A layer of dust covered everything, and floated in the air. Under normal circumstances, Percy would be frightened. But the air of this place wasn't threatening. It just seemed sad and empty.

"What is this place?" Percy wondered.

There was a deep chuckle behind him. "This, little demigod, as my brother told you, is Othrys. Or what remains of it."

Percy turned around and blanched. There was a man kneeling behind him, if he could be called a man. Even on his knees, he was taller than Prometheus, who was tall for an adult. He looked like a living statue, with light brown skin, and with enough muscles for his muscles to have muscles. He had black, slicked back hair, and grey eyes, like the stones beneath his feet. He wore nothing but a toga, but bronze chains were wrapped around his wrists, which he held over his head. He seemed to be holding something, but he couldn't tell what. There was something over his head, something that seemed to bend the very fabric of reality itself as it pressed down on the man's back. Just by looking at it, Percy could tell it was heavy.

"Percy, this is my brother Atlas, the Titan of Strength and Endurance, General of the armies of Kronos," Prometheus said. "I'm sure you remember the stories I told you about him."

Prometheus had told him stories about Atlas's great battle prowess and loyalty to his king, how he, Hyperion and Kronos dragged the wicked Hekatonheires and Elder Cyclopes back into Tartarus where they belonged. He remembered the stories of Zeus's cruelty, how he forced Atlas under the sky and cast the Titans of the North, South, East and West into Tartarus, as well as the story of the cruelty of Hercules, who promised him freedom but tricked him.

"Your brother? But he's a Titan," Percy said.

Atlas let out a booming laugh as Prometheus answered. "Yes he is. And so am I, Percy. I am Prometheus, the Titan of Foresight, the one who gave man fire, the one who was chained by Zeus and cursed to have my liver eaten by a vulture every day. I molded the first humans from clay and breathed life into them, modeling them after my own kin. I came to you, Percy, because you are special. You are the son of Poseidon, brother of Zeus, and you are destined for great things. As the Titan of Foresight, I am gifted with the ability to look ahead and see what can be."

"You can see the future?" Percy blurted.

"Not quite. I can see possibilities. I can see what might be, but the power to determine the future is not mine. That power belongs to the Fates. And the Fates have decreed you will have a role to play in the future," Prometheus told him.

"A role? What kind of role?" Percy asked.

"That's not for me to tell you. If you want to know, you must pledge yourself to Kronos," Prometheus said.

"Why can't he just tell me now?" Percy asked.

"You remember the story. Zeus and his evil brothers attacked Kronos and cut him into a thousand pieces and cast him into the Pit. He can't be with us now, but if you pledge yourself to him, he will speak with you, just as he has spoken to me, and he will tell you the scheme of the Fates," Prometheus promised.

Percy hesitated. He had never been religious, mom had never even taken him to church once. But something about "renouncing the gods" just felt off to him. "Didn't you say my dad is a god? Why would I renounce him?"

"What has your father ever done for you?" Prometheus countered. "He, like many gods, goes where he wishes, sleeping with mortals and abandoning them, leaving them with children they are unprepared to care for. Your father knew your father for not even a season before he left her. He never even met you. He is a god, and he left your mother to struggle alone in a world she couldn't have possibly faced. He left you with Gabe. He doesn't care about you Percy. But I do. And Kronos does. If you join us, we won't abandon you like the gods have. We will make sure no one ever hurts you again."

"Really? You mean that?" Percy asked.

"With all my heart," Prometheus told him.

"Ok. How do I do it?" Percy asked.

"Simply call out aloud that you renounce the gods of Olympus, and that you will serve Kronos," Prometheus explained.

"Um, ok. I, Percy Jackson, renounce the gods of Olympus! I will serve Kronos!" Percy shouted. At first, Percy felt silly, but then the atmosphere chilled, and the shadows lengthened. Percy shivered. Prometheus clapped him on the back.

"Well done Percy. Now, let's get you settled," Prometheus said. "You'll be safe here. I promise."

Percy leaned on him, smiling.


That night, Kronos came to him in a dream.

Percy found himself standing in the precipice of a cliff, overlooking the sea. Waves crashed along the rocky shore beneath him, sending up white sprays of saltwater. Percy smiled. It was nice here.

Welcome, my child, a deep, echoing voice rose from the ground. Percy whirled around, but there was no one there.

"Who are you?" Percy demanded.

Didn't Prometheus tell you that I would come? Unlike the faithless gods, I do not abandon those who have pledged themselves to me, the voice said.

"You're Kronos," Percy breathed.

Yes, my child. I am. And I thank you for your act of loyalty. It means much to me after so many years of neglect, Kronos said.

"Prometheus said you knew my destiny," Percy blurted out.

Kronos chuckled. My my, impatient are we? But very well. It is your destiny, and you have a right to know. But first, allow me to set the scene;

You know of what the mortals call the Second World War, yes? The big fight between the countries of Germany, Italy and Japan against the US, England, France and Russia? What the mortals cannot tell you, is that it was led by children of the gods, like you. The children of Zeus and Poseidon fought against the child of Hades. The conflict was so devastating, it rattled even the immortal world. And then, after the conclusion of the war, the Fates come along with a Great Prophecy:

A half-blood of the eldest gods

Shall reach sixteen against all odds

And see the world in endless sleep

The hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap

A single choice shall end his days

Olympus to preserve or raze

After the telling of this prophecy, Zeus and Poseidon forced Hades to agree to an oath; none of the three would sire any more children until the conclusion of the great prophecy. Unfortunately for Hades, he had a son and a daughter at the time of the oath, both younger than 16. Zeus, in his fear, slew the children of Hades and their mother, as well as several other mortals. And now, less than a hundred years later, there have been two children born in spite of the oath. A daughter of Zeus, Thalia, was born 13 years ago. She was killed recently by the minions of Hades. And you. The son of Poseidon."

Percy felt his head swimming from all this information. Clearly, Kronos could see it, as he chuckled. Fear not boy, I will ensure Prometheus tells you all you need to know. I am glad that he found you before any wrathful god tries to incinerate you just for being born.

"Why would they do that?" Percy asked. "I'm his son. Why would my dad want to kill me?"

Kronos responded, sympathy dripping from his voice. Percy, when you were born, Poseidon knew the Fate that would befall you. He knew you were doomed to die on your sixteenth birthday, and he did nothing. He left you with your mother, knowing that you would die, and he feels no remorse.

"How could he do that?" Percy demanded, growing angry. "He's my dad! How could he leave me?"

Gods are spiteful and selfish creatures that have no regard for human life, even for their own kids, Kronos told him.

"But he's my dad!" Percy shouted.

I know, my child, I know. It was wrong and it was cruel. But we will take care you, Percy, and we will take care of all the other demigods the gods have abandoned, Kronos promised.

"How can I help?" Percy asked.

Percy could practically feel the smile on Kronos's face. For now, my child, learn. Grow strong. Listen to Prometheus. When you are ready, I will show you how to change the world.


"Why can't I have a real sword?" Percy pouted, holding his stick. It wasn't really a stick, rather a carved piece of wood that Prometheus called a xiphos. But they had real swords! When Prometheus had taken him on the tour yesterday, he had shown him the armory, and there were so many cool weapons! Percy didn't get why he couldn't have one.

"Because you're seven, Percy. Swords are heavy and dangerous. You could hurt yourself. You don't need to practice with a real sword right now, you're not in any danger. But there will come a time when you have to fight monsters or gods, and you will need to know how. So right now we practice with wooden swords. I'll teach you to fight with a real sword one day, just not until you're older," Prometheus said. Percy pouted. "Now, raise your sword."

Percy complied, gripping the wooden stick with both hands and lifting it in the air. Prometheus proceeded to walk around him.

"Spread your feet apart, and bend your knees. You don't want to stand up straight. It makes it easier for an enemy to knock you over, and gives you more control. A little farther. Bend your knees a bit more. Good. Now, the xiphos is the kind of sword you hold in one hand. Usually, it'd be paired with a shield, but we don't have to worry about that now. If you feel more comfortable with a two handed sword, we can work with that, but for now just focus on this. Alright, we're going to go over the basics. The xiphos is an effective close range weapon for both stabbing and slashing. Easiest thing, slashing, so let's start with that. Go ahead and give me a slash."

Percy slashed the air, and Prometheus frowned. "When you slash, you don't just want to use your arms, you want to put your whole body into it. Twist with your hips, like so."

Prometheus demonstrated, and Percy followed. Prometheus nodded, and they continued. He had Percy continue slashing the air, then a straw dummy he made. Prometheus taught him stabs and parries and blocks and all sorts of cool sword moves. First he practiced in the air as Prometheus watched and corrected, then he would practice them against Prometheus's wooden sword. Prometheus was a kind and patient teacher, gently correcting Percy when he did something wrong.

Everything was great until Atlas spoke up.

"Brother, why does Kronos bother with this demigod? He is weak, and frail. A son of the Sea God he may be, but he is worthless all the same," Atlas sneered.

Percy's flushed, embarrassed.

"Peace, brother, he is but a child. He may not be strong now, but with the proper training he will grow into a mighty warrior. I am sure of it," Prometheus said.

"You always had a soft spot for these mortals of yours. But I fear you are mistaken. Demigods are bred for but one purpose, to enact the wills of the gods. And this one will fail at even that. He has no strength, no skills. Prove to me, brother, that these animals are worth our investment," Atlas challenged.

Prometheus tilted his head. "You wish to see their worth?"

"I do," Atlas declared.

"Very well," Prometheus said. Without a word, Prometheus swung his wooden sword at Percy. Percy yelped, bringing his sword up to defend himself. But the force behind Prometheus's blow was too great, and brushed him aside. Percy fell, rolling to his feet to dodge another blow by Prometheus. Percy backpedaled rapidly, doing his best to block and parry, but Prometheus's onslaught was too fast and too strong.

Atlas laughed, a booming sound as if the earth was shaking. "This is supposed to show me his worth!? This is embarrassing! He is not worthy to follow Kronos!"

At that, Percy grew angry. Atlas was a bully, like Gabe. And Percy hated Gabe. He would do anything to prove him wrong.

The next swing Prometheus took, Percy stepped into it, putting all the power his seven year old body held into it. It stopped Prometheus's blade for the first time in their fight. Even Prometheus looked surprised. But that didn't last long. Prometheus pushed forward, trying to knock Percy off his feet. Instead of trying to resist, Percy used Prometheus's force to spin him around, Prometheus's stick flying harmlessly past him. Continuing his momentum, Percy spun around and smacked his wooden sword on the side of Prometheus's cheek.

Prometheus blinked at him, unfazed, before giving Percy a small grin. "Very good Percy, very good. Was that display to your satisfaction, brother?"

Percy looked over at Atlas, who nodded. "Indeed."

Atlas looked at Percy, and his stony eyes seemed to fix Percy to the spot. "Learn this, and learn this well, demigod. Your kind, the children of the gods, have instincts beyond those of the mortals. You would do well to heed these instincts. They will be your greatest ally. But beyond that, in my opinion, the greatest ability you demigods have is not your strength or abilities or intellect. The greatest abilities you demigods have is the ability to adapt. You possess the ability to change to suit your situation. So yes, demigod, grow, learn to be strong, test the limits of your abilities, but out in the real world, the demigods who survive the longest are those that can adapt. In this mountain fortress, you will grow strong, you will learn to adapt, and most importantly, you will learn to endure. If you can adapt, you can endure anything."