God of Storms |The Anak Series| [COMPLETED!]

Ten

"The Storm King, really? Is that what you call yourself?" The Huntress chuckled.

Slowly, Perseus raised his eyes, the gold glistening in the darkness. "They name me what they wish. Who are you, Huntress?"

The Huntress was clad in light black armor. Her eyes were hard black, her long hair raised short. She was here at Challenge Five. That alone established her skill.

Perseus stood, rolling his shoulders back as the gates opened. Maros and Celestion were in hand.

The Huntress stood, drawing her bow. "If you survive, I might tell you," she decided.

Perseus nodded. He would live. He stepped into the Arena. Exhaling, the son of Kronos relaxed in the thrum of the Arena. The roar of the crowd, the chant, and the blood rising in his eyes, it was familiar now. Justus, Garmeus, and perhaps his sanity, was gone. He was alone. Even as he won, he was losing.

"Ready," the Huntress said. She notched an arrow, relaxed as the Challenge began.

Perseus stepped into his stance. The thrum of the Arena faded. The ground began to shake. He could smell them already, Centaurs. The creatures were half-human and half-horse, savage, unnatural. Perseus had known a Centaur once. He was different. Even when he was young, he was always wise, ancient, and admittedly skilled with his weapon of choice.

These Centaurs were different — eyes focused.

Perseus narrowed his eyes. He slammed Maros into the ground. Immediately, tendrils of lightning flashed through the Arena, burning through hundreds of the beasts. There were hundreds more.

The Huntress let her arrow fly. Her eyes flickered to Perseus. "Laced with Greek Fire," she explained, notching another arrow. The flood of Centaurs still came, burning, screaming, but they came.

Perseus threw himself into the Centaurs. His sword screamed through the thick Tartarus smog. The red dust hid the blood to an extent, but it was there. Perseus could feel the storm, the chaos.

"STORM KING! HUNTRESS!" They chanted.

Explosions racked through the Arena. The Centaurs surrounded them now.

Perseus exhaled. Breathe. Breathe. Slowly, Perseus smiled. It was a soft smile, creeping up to his eyes. Never before had Perseus enjoyed this — the thrill of battle, danger, the smell of blood was like incense, an offering to him.

His eyes flashed gold.

He had been wrong before, Perseus realized. He was no Zeus.

Perseus lunged forward. He slashed Celestion upward. The metal screamed through the air. It was so right, so natural. Thunder erupted from Celestion and Maros.

He was no Zeus. It was just not possible.

Flesh turned into ashes. The screams were like prayers, pleading for death.

Perseus was glad to comply. He was no Zeus. Zeus was always weak.

The God let the darkness rise. It seeped from the ground, choking those who remained. The Arena quieted.

His smile faded. He looked up. Zeus was weak. Perseus was not. He knew Olympus would hear whispers of the Storm King. Good, they will come.

"Storm King," they whispered. It was the hush of the crowd, rising and falling until it only rose. The Arena exploded into a fervor.

"STORM KING!"

Perseus let his eyes fall on the Huntress.

"Zoe Nightshade," she offered.

Perseus nodded carefully. She had a hard face, and those eyes . . .

"Atlas' daughter?" He asked.

"Call me Zoe," she answered firmly. She waited. "You are the Perseus, are you not?"

Perseus frowned. "I doubted that I would be remembered."

Zoe nodded. "You are by some, still King. Most think you long dead.

Perseus scoffed, his eyes hardening, but slowly he broke into a chuckle, escaping into cold laughter. "You do not hide your Titan's blood well."

"Come with me," she smiled.

For whatever reason, Perseus did.

They made their way out of the Arena, pushing past into the barren lands.

"How far?" Perseus asked.

"Not far."

But eventually the lights of the Arena faded, and they were alone. The darkness was comforting, but Perseus let his mind wander. Olympus would be established now, his name long forgotten. Some would remember. Hestia would.

"Nightshade, why are you in Tartarus?" Perseus raised his eyes. "You held in your office beside Artemis, did you not?"

Zoe's hands naturally fell to her bow, slung over her back. "Powerful forces are lurking again, Perseus. The Titans fell, yes, the Giants, fell yes. You slayed many of them, but again, something is rising."

Perseus frowned. "Olympus is heard across all realms now. What do they have to be afraid of?"

"I don't know, but the signs are clear." She frowned. "The Hunt had swelled its ranks since the Giants fell, but now we are spread thin across the sea, so many monsters are rising, ancient ones." She shivered.

"Why are you in Tartarus?" Perseus repeated again. Olympus would fall or they would prevail. It didn't matter to him, he lied.

"Zeus grows fearful. I was banished to Tartarus on his accord. Artemis herself released me from my vow."

Perseus nodded, but said nothing. They fell into silence, as they trekked through the last stretch of Tartarus.

"We're here," Zoe finally said.

They stood at the mouth of a small cavern. From here, Perseus could see a faint light from the inside. Perseus paused.

"Now what?"

Zoe shrugged. "We fight, we train, but it is good to have someone watch your back."

Perseus pursed his lips. Maybe, but I'd prefer to watch my own back. The words went unsaid. He entered the cave, the emptiness in his soul screaming for attention. 

It was only filled in his adrenaline-crazed state, that moment between life and death, where he could unleash himself. 

Perseus isn't doing so well :) haha