Percy Jackson and The Sands Of Time

| Chapter 8 || Battle and Honour |

The only problem was Gaea. The earth kept riding up, soil wrapping around the giant's wounds in a mother's caress and healing all traces of cuts and scrapes. So, while Percy was tiring, the giant, Enceladus, was continuously being renewed. He didn't know how much more of it he could take.

Exhaustion ran through him as though he'd just run a marathon, so much so that he almost didn't feel the hit. The giant's large hand swiped, catching him in the chest and sending him through the air. As he landed, he bounced, the rough ground scraping against his face and limbs. Loud clanging rang in his ears.

"Ow..." he said.

There were grains of broken rock piercing the palms of his hands, but he scraped them off with a groan and stood. Pain immediately sparked through his left leg. By some miracle, he stayed on his feet, limping forward.

"Gods help me..." he muttered quietly to himself. There was a trail of blood down one side of his face, clotting in his hair, but he couldn't stop. He had to keep going. He had to continue. "Please..."

With the last of his strength, Percy ran. He ran faster than ever before. The ground was a blur under him, as was everything else. All but Enceladus. He was the only focus of Percy's tunnel-vision, and one last blow came from Percy's arms.

Just at the same time, Percy smiled, for his prayers had been answered. The dramatic action that could have only been Zeus rained down upon them in the form of a large bolt of electricity. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, but the lightning struck the giant just as Percy's sword did - straight in his heart. When the electricity coursed through him, Percy screamed. He screamed at the top of his lungs, yet the smile stayed on his face. He'd done it. His uncle listened to him, and now Enceladus was finished.

It was then that the clouds began to form. Rain poured down, washing away the giant's ashes - it was like he was never there. Raindrops the size of apples poured upon his head, but Percy couldn't care less. He felt water gather underneath him, the earth beneath him so saturated that it spilled over its surface.

The water dragged him along. A nearby river was his refuse, carrying him in its welcoming embrace, the water bringing a sense of peace. Northward was where he was headed, and northward, the river took him.

"Thank you, uncle," he said, voice faint. "Thank you, father." Then, his eyes slipped closed and he lost consciousness.

***

"Do you think he's alright?"

The question shocked Percy awake. Water was gently caressing his cheeks, lapping over his body. He must've been on a shore somewhere. Where was he? With renewed strength from the water, Percy rose. He stood, blood and wounds washed away by the river, and water slipping easily off his back like a duck. He was completely and utterly dry as he emerged from the riverbed, stunning the townsfolk from where they crowded around him.

There were murmurs.

"Is it Poseidon?"

"The sea god himself?"

"Why is he in the form of a boy?"

Percy smiled. "I'm not Poseidon," he explained. For a second, he froze. What was the etiquette back in this time? Did they know about demigods just like they knew about the gods? Or was that only later, when they told stories and wrote sagas about them? Better take a chance; they already saw him walk out of the river completely dry. "He's my father."

The townsfolk immediately fell to their knees and bowed. "Praise the son of Poseidon!" they chanted.

Percy took a slight step back in shock.