Price of Freedom: Living Without the Savior

Caualties of War

Hello People, Leonidas here! I've started to notice how my stories have been getting darker and darker. This is by far my darkest story yet. I actually feel evil typing it.
Enjoy!

***

They'd done it. Everyone saw. Demigods, Roman and Greek alike, stood just outside Camp Half-Blood, watching in awe as a bronze dragon soared overhead. Riding atop it was a grungy-looking demigod. His wire-y frame seemed out of place on the neck of the metallic beast, but anyone who knew Leo knew better. He was the only one who could possibly appear natural astride Festus.

But something was off about his disposition. No one on the ground could tell, of course, but it was off. He was a machine with a too small cog. It still worked, but it was out of time. Forced. That was it. Everything about his actions seemed forced. His cocky smile was there, so were his idiotic comments, but they were forced, unnatural, mechanical. It was Leo, but it wasn't actually him.

But of course, no one could tell. He was so high above them, circling like a victorious champion. Besides, they didn't actually know Leo all that well. The Romans met him for less than an afternoon, and when he was at Camp Half-Blood, he had spent most of his time in Bunker Nine.

Also in the air were two other demigods. Jason and Piper. Once again, they were too high up in the sky for people to actually discern details, but had they been able to, they would have seen quite a sight.

Jason's entire body was tense. He held Piper is what seemed to be a death-grip, as if he did not believe that the threat was over, and Gaea would rise again instantly. His eyes, instead of their usual sky blue, were a stormy blue, like the sky just before a hurricane. They perfectly matched the sky directly above him.

Piper was no damsel in distress either. Her wind whipped dangerously in the wind, combining with the sheathed Boread sword to create the image of a devastatingly dangerous woman. He kaleidescope-like eyes, which where known throughout Camp Half-Blood for their color changing properties, appeared to have finally chosen a color: deep, deadly brown.

Her eyes held a different anger either of the males. Where Leo's was hidden and Jason's that of rage, Piper's was that of cold fury.

But of course,the demigods could not see any of this, for the three were two to three hundred feet in the air.

What they could see was the clenched-jaw determination of Praetor Frank Zhang. The speed and deliberance of his transformations was unparalleled, smoothly flowing from one animalistic form to the next as the effortlessly mowed through the monsters. His true emotions were hidden by the faces of the animals he changed into. But if one were to look into his eyes, even as an animal, they would see a strange light. Something had snapped in the son of Mars, leaving only blind fury and hatred.

Hazel Levesque followed in her partner's wake, elegantly disposing of the scraps left in the wake of Frank's rage-induced killing spree. Her movements were sharper, more deadly than before. Her eyes glowed as she manipulated the Mist almost effortlessly. Monsters fell seemingly at random, loosing gutteral screams of terror. Whatever horror Hazel was showing them clearly too much to bear. Many turned their blades on themselves. The soft-spoken, innocent girl had clearly changed.

And Annabeth. Not one of the demigods, even those in the vicinity of her during the fighting, saw her face. It was always turned towards the monsters. Perhaps that was for the best though, for whatever the monsters saw, was clearly enough to scare them. And monsters do not scare easily. She wielded her bone sword with an unparalleled intensity and force, mercilessly carving through monster after monster. Those who had the time to pause wondered about the sword, some of the more learned demigods noting that it was in fact the bone of as drakon. After all, how does one go about obtaining a sword made from the bone of a drakon? The armor the monsters wore appeared inefectual, crumpling under the force of the demonic blade. The sword was a demon's weapon, and Annabeth was the demon.