Bane of Roses | pjo fanfiction

Prologue

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There was a prophecy foretold long ago that a child of the underworld would be born, defying fate. His mere existence was a warning to all immortals that there was no eternity.

Every beginning has an end.

Any who defied those fated words would be brought a quick end by fate.

This child was the will of ancient forces long gone. A child that would bring gods to their knees.

The arrogance of immortals was chaos. With chaos, comes order. And so the fates decided to bring balance in the name of Artorius Altair.

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It was dark.

The rain continued to beat upon his running form as they descended from the heavens above. Lightning viciously tore through the sky as the following rumble forced his legs to move faster. The surrounding towers in the form of trees seemed to mock him and the darkness hidden behind them did nothing to help his fast-beating heart.

They were coming for him. He knew that. He saw it in his visions. He didn't expect it to be so soon.

Damn immortals and their jealousy.

"GODLING! YOU WILL NOT ESCAPE US!" Cackles echoed from behind him but he did not dare to look back. Any mistake would lead to his doom. And he could not afford to trip on a damn tree root.

Artorius Altair was no coward, but the situation would be fearful for any 8 year-old. He had just lost his mom to these monsters and he had no weapon to fight, not that he could've used it. So he could only run and hope that someone—anyone would help him.

"C'mon.." He muttered, frustratingly.

Art had been running for hours. His legs flared in pain and his stomach had long been growling in protest. He was lucky enough to find a stream to drink from when he thought he lost the monsters but even then, the water seemed to retreat away from him after a while.

Why him?

Just as things got more dire and the sounds of wood crashing came closer, a tree root reached out from beneath the underbrush and he fell with a thud, the momentum sending him crashing down the hill. Tears were present in the corner of his eyes, to his chagrin. Artorius was not a crybaby. Altairs were strong. He refused to be anything less and cry over some dumb monsters.

Scrapes and dirty cuts littered his arms, day-old wounds reopening from the tumble down the hill.  The demigod was pretty sure he had twisted his angle at some point during the fall.

"There you are, half-blood." A female voice hissed, a vicious grin on her ugly face. She wore a black pantsuit that had long been ripped during the chase.

Art didn't immediately answer as he watched the surrounding woods, cautiously. "..Where's the other one..?"

The moon shone bright in the sky and the clearing lit up in an eerie light. From the light, he could see the torn pant leg which revealed what looked like metal while the other leg was a one..hairy...hoof?

"Empousa." Art realized with startling clarity.

"What other one?" Her words did not match the evil grin that she sported.

"There were two of you uglies." The boy drawled, gripping his arm tighter.

The air seemed to get hotter as the monster's hair burst into roaring flames. "UGLIES?!"

Art didn't dare to turn around when he felt a searing heat appear behind the tree he leaned on.

"For that insult," Art stiffened as he got ready to take action. "...your death will not be painless."

And he jumped to the side.

Just as a claw stab through where he just was. At this point, it was another game of cat and mouse around the clearing. Judging from their expressions, it was obvious he was the mouse and he knew that they knew that he was on his last leg. Literally.

And they were enjoying every second of it.

At some point...some split second...he wanted to just let death consume him as it did his mother. It was so easy to just let go. To let the darkness clutch onto him, dragging him to Death's open arms.

As his legs finally gave way, sending him rolling against the foot of a tall tree, it's large branches standing imposingly above him.

This couldn't be it.

Not after everything that's happened. Not after his mother's sacrifice.

The woman who he thought hated him since his birth. A precious life that was ripped away before he could understand her. Art would not let that sacrifice be in vain.

He was going to live.

"Leave...me..."

"...ALONE!"

The last thing he saw was skeletal hands bursting forth from the ground around the empousas before he felt himself sink into the shadows of the tree and lose consciousness.