Contemplations and Ideas

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Hey guys! Here's your chapter, sorry it's so late.

"You could... you could visit her. But it won't be easy." Damasen said.

Percy laughed softly, a dark, cruel sound he barely recognized. "I'm a demigod. You don't think I'm used to hardship?" He asked.

The giant looked into his eyes, but he refused to flinch or look away. Instead, he met his fierce gaze with equal intensity, flashing a smile with his pointed teeth.

Damasen gave in, glancing at Percy with curiosity, and something akin to fear. The demigod was somewhat shocked to notice that he didn't mind.

The fact that he didn't care scared him almost as much as the fact that he had frightened a giant with a simple glare, but he decided to accept it. Percy knew he was powerful. May as well roll with it.

"Akhlys. She can hide you with the Death Mist."

"Oh, Death Mist. That sounds fun."

"And you will need to get past Night. You cannot hope to defeat her, so you must avoid her at all costs.

Percy didn't like the way Damasen had said night, as if it was a proper name, the name of some sort of ethereal being, something more than a god. Like a primordial. Between Gaea and Tartarus, he wasn't thrilled about meeting another.

"Oh-kayyyyy... So how do I get to this goddess and the Misty Death stuff?" He questioned, trying to keep the fear out of his voice.

"You'll know when you find her." Damasen said vaguely.

Percy knew better than to pry, knowing that he would receive no more information, at least not from the giant. Then, the idea popped into his head, and being the impulsive demigod he was, instinctively blurted it out.

"You! You can come with me! The prophecy! Foes bear arms to the Doors of Death!"

For a second, Damasen glared at him, and he was sure that the giant was going to gut him like a fish (He hated that analogy. Poor fish.)

"No. I am cursed. I cannot leave this place."

"I never thought I would be the son of a pagan god! Guess how that turned out!" He protested.

"I am sorry, but it cannot be. Now go, little half-blood, before my brethren catch up. Although I may not be able to call you little for much longer." Damasen said sadly.

"What do you mean?" He inquired, intrigued by the giant's strange comment.

Damasen didn't answer, instead tossing him a satchel stitched from drakon leather.

"Clothes. Food. Drink."

Percy nodded. "I can't thank you enough-" He started, but was cut off by a wave of Damasen's massive hand.

"Don't thank me, Son of Poseidon. If I am right, you have many hardships to come. Whether or not you survive them..."

In the distance, Percy heard a roar and the stomping of huge feet. The drakon must have reformed. 

Taking that as his cue to leave, he swung the satchel over his shoulder and picked up Small Bob, letting the tabby curl around his shoulder and nestle into the crook of his neck.

He grabbed Bob's broom, which had been resting against the door frame. "Goodbye." He said.

"I hope we shall meet again." Damasen replied, before he charged back into the swamp, yelling a battle cry, his voice filled with despair as he faced his eternal enemy.

I'm really sorry for the late update! I've been really busy with school and completely forgot to update on Friday! I mean... better late than never?

~🌊

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