'Don't Take Enemies For Friends'
Chapter 18: Set It Off
««•••»»
Sally Jackson had always stood by his side.
Through thick.
Through thin.
Through good times and bad, she had always remained loyal and encouraged her son to keep going, no matter how hard the challenge may be.
She had remained patient with him through all of his expulsions and switching of schools. She showed the most tender of love to him on his darkest days and unintentionally reminded him that everything would be okay as long as she was with him.
So it was no surprise to Perseus when he found himself in a deep trance, wondering about what his mother would think of him now.
Would she be proud of him for coming so far with no one but himself as support?
Would she be afraid of him?
Would she see him for what he was, instead of what she always envisioned him to be?
But most importantly, would she still love him the same? And would she accept the fact that he was no longer the innocent little boy that once used to barge through the door and hop onto the kitchen counter, assisting her in the baking process.
He had no care about people's opinions about him nor his actions, but the case was different when it came to his mother.
There was not a single day during the beginning of his prison sentence that he didn't think about his mother.
How many tears he had shed at the thought of never being able to hold her again. The thought that she would never again kiss him on the cheek and ruffle his hair, placing a large platter of blue colored cookies in front of him as he tried his very best to complete his seemingly endless homework.
Sally was his rock.
The one person that had always remained constant throughout his entire life.
He must see her again.
He must hold his mother one more time.
Even if it was only for a minute.
The young General was so consumed by his own thoughts, that his focus became blurred. So when he felt a warm hand suddenly clasp onto his upper arm, he wasted no time in grabbing aggressively at the limb, flipping the weight over his shoulder and slamming the person harshly onto their back.
Before this person could even find the opportunity to grimace at the pain of Perseus's abrupt ferocity upon them, a dangerously sharp blade had already been placed at the throat of the receiver, the knife being pressed with intense pressure, threatening to draw blood if any impulsive movements were made.
With bared teeth and raised eyebrows, he scanned the body of the humanoid figure from the legs, to the waist, and finally to the face, where finally, he recognized who the individual was. He removed the blade, smiling genuinely at the Hearth Goddess and helping her again into her feet.
Hestia frowned slightly at Perseus, but the almost unnoticeable upturn of her lips that no other person be able to observe, exposed to him her true emotions.
In all honesty, she understood that she should have never approached this man while his back was turned to her. She should have greeted him from an angle where his vision would be set onto her. She had set herself up for failure without even thinking of the repercussions.
This man was a survivor of the pit, after all. And although she had never been, she knew that in Tartarus, while skill played an important role, your life almost solely depended on your reflexes, and your ability to think quickly in cramped amount of time.
She considered herself lucky for escaping unscathed, but she was almost certain that nothing about his hesitation resided around luck.
From what she had noticed during the past few weeks, Perseus, while ruthless and fierce, was also a careful fighter. She was yet to figure out why his movements were always as calculated as they were, but it seemed as if he simply had no room for mistakes, and everything he did, must be done to perfection.
But then suddenly, there was something wrong.
His bright smile that had been directed towards her, became deathly serious.
The demigods around the area, who had been shocked to see his surprisingly pleasant smile, began to step away as his expression turned immensely focused and brooding.
Because now, at this very moment, Perseus had just realized something.
An attack was upon them.
He was sure of it.
««•••»»
Three years in complete solitude was enough time for Perseus to both learn and understand each and every characteristic of an impending attack.
Becoming a General and leading his army to victory in the battle for control over the pit, only added to his already profound attributes.
Whether or not it was clear to the average person, the signs had never lead him wrong when it came to this topic. The slightest changes in an environment's atmosphere would always bring his defenses to full attention.
Like the way the pattern of airflow would somehow change, as if the wind would become thinner in order to capacitate the sizable number of breathing individuals.
Or the manner in which his trained ears would pick up the sound of large masses of beings trailing into his direction from an impossibly far distance away.
All of these minor observations and pieces of information piled onto each other, the stack becoming larger with the time that passed.
Eventually, these things became an important factor in the survival of Perseus in his prison. They became his methods of self preservation.
The things that a mere mortal would think nothing of, would prove to be the savior of his bountied life.
«••»
Perseus turned his body, focusing his red eyes onto the Pine tree that once belonged to Thalia. He noticed the large dragon, Pelus, stood at guard, rising to his full height, as the Golden Fleece appeared to shake on its strong branch.
"Hunters! Position yourselves in the trees at the frontal boarder lines. Romans and Amazons! Formate yourselves at the forward left and right flanks. Greeks stay behind."
He watched as they immediately began to prepare themselves, questioning not his orders, but carrying them out without the smallest bit of delay or dithering.
"Are you going to explain to us what's going on?"
Perseus pivoted his neck, locking his gaze onto the speaker, who he recognized as Jason Grace.
He was never quite bothered enough to reply to the son of Jupiter's question, so he ignored the statement. He simply had no time for the games that he was certain Jason was attempting to play with him. He knew that Jason was not stupid, and he knew that the demigod had been at the center of enough wars to understand what was happening.
"And why must we stay behind?"
Perseus's patience tempted to falter, but his will to keep himself calm assisted him in remaining collected. Instead, he walked away, into the direction of the hill where the Hunters, Amazons and Roman stood with weapons aimed at the ready, as they awaited his commands.
Despite his previous orders, Annabeth walked to the front of the large group of Greek demigods, turning to face them, with the infamous Drakon Bone blade held firmly in her hand.
"Katie, go to the Big House and get Chiron. We're going to help Percy fight."
Although with a hesitant look, the daughter of Demeter nodded slowly, proceeding to follow through with the request.
"Annabeth."
Will Solace called to the grey eyed woman, who now returned eye contact with him.
"I don't think it's a good idea to interfere with this. He made it clear that he doesn't want our help."
She took this into consideration, realizing that Will was indeed correct, but still, she could not find it within herself to stand back, when there was even the slightest chance that she might be able to prove her loyalty to Percy, whether he was in a relationship or not. She wanted him to understand that she still cared, and she would always place her life in the face of danger for the sake of his.
"Oh pipe down Sunshine." Clarisse voiced herself as she fiddled with her spear. "I think Annabeth is onto something here. Besides, its been ages since we've had a proper fight."
At their counselor's words, the Ares Cabin made an uproar in agreement, though some campers looked rather unenthusiastic at the suggestion, but these attitudes were swayed by the influences of Piper's and Clarisse's demanding glares.
Out of the Big House, came Chiron, bow in hand, and a large quiver of arrows strapped across his back. He gave the demigods a sympathetic smile as he trailed towards them, almost as if he took both pity and admiration at their efforts to impress Perseus.
The old centaur looked at them like they were his children, which in more ways than one, he indeed was.
Chiron was smart enough to know that a battle is never left without casualties on both ends, and this was the reason he so desperately took upon subsuming the feeling of having them all together for one last time.
For a while, nothing was said, and every person seemed to understand the unspoken meaning of the brief silence.
It was an honor in advance to the ones that would definitely fall in this fight.
It was inevitable.
"Well heroes... Shall we proceed?"
««•••»»
Behind him stood Hestia, Hades, Hephaestus and Nyx, each of the four pointing a weapon in the direction of the large group of enemies that were situated in front of them.
The sight of what stood before him almost left him disgusted, yet, he couldn't find it in himself to be surprised.
Amongst the crowd, were the faces of the monsters that had once fought in the ranks of his army.
Monsters that had been trained personally by him.
He paid no mind to the leader of the group, his eyes staying trained onto the individuals he had once put his trust into for the sake of victory.
At the presence of their General, the monsters bowed their heads, lifting their weapons slightly and hitting the ends onto the ground, standing at attention in salute to him, all while avoiding contact with his eyes.
"What treachery is this?" Perseus asked, walking forward and forcing the army back as he made his way to the individual that stood with his head held high, at the front of the opposing lines. "And who are you."
The person in front of him was pale in complexion, having golden eyes that he recognized all too well and carefully groomed brown hair. He had a familiar smirk and a devious look on his face, holding a double edged tempered steel and celestial bronze blade in his right hand.
Of course, by seeing the features of the blade, Perseus knew who this was. He felt a smile of his own appearing onto his lips, looking calmly sinister as he locked eyes with his old enemy. Before Perseus could speak, the man stuck his hand out for him to shake.
"Well, I suppose I must introduce myself."
"I am Kronos, but I don't remember that I have ever had the pleasure of meeting you. Please, enlighten me on who you are."
Kronos spoke to the General politely, as if he hadn't come with an army of soldiers, intending to launch an attack upon them.
Perseus, however, was in no mood for games. He took the hand and shook it hostilely, crushing the flesh covered bones of Kronos' fingers, blatantly disrespecting the king of the Titans.
"It has been a long time, Kronos."
His voice held no sign of friendliness in it.
"But I would've hoped that you would not forget the last time we've crossed paths."
Kronos looked confused, but the pain of the General's hold on him because overwhelming. He yanked his hand away, holding it with the other and clutching it like a gushing wound, amusing Perseus in the process.
Through bared teeth, the Titan spoke. "I ask again. Who are you."
Perseus smiled, his eyes churning like raging cyclone.
"Oh me? My name is Perseus."
That was all he needed to say for the idiotic grin to be removed from Kronos' face.
The entire atmosphere was silent, not a single sound escaping from neither of the two faction leaders.
Kronos, in disbelief, finally began to fully take in the physical features of the man that stood in front of him, only now recognizing the qualities about him that gave away his identify as the son of Poseidon. But still, the Titan King could not get over how different Perseus appeared.
Everything about him, and everything he did, just seemed to portray him on a far level higher than anyone else. Even his simplest movements were effortlessly perfect.
In an attempt to mask his surprise and worry, Kronos laughed, to which Perseus saw right through.
"Well. You have certainly blossomed, haven't you Jackson, but no matter what you do, you are still but a mere demigod."
The demi-primordial man could hear the sound of the Greeks approaching up the hill from behind him, much to his annoyance and frustration.
"This is not the time nor place for games Kronos."
"I am giving you the opportunity to stand down."
Perseus's tone was deathly serious, holding dire warning inside of it, but instead of heeding the caution, Kronos merely raised an eyebrow.
"Stand down? I will do nothing of the sort."
"This attack has been planned for weeks. My allies and I have made it a priority to carefully train the our soldiers in preparation for this war."
"But my sources failed to mention that you have returned to this camp." Kronos said under his breath, but Perseus picked up his words.
"What was that?" He asked, already knowing what had been said, but wanting to confirm before he made a decision on what he would do next.
Kronos looked up at him, pulling Backbiter out of the ground and holding it over his shoulder.
"I once told you, Perseus. You can't count on friends. They will always let you down. No matter who they are, they will always disappoint you."
There, he understood.
There was a spy amongst the members of his forces.
Someone that had given information to the enemy, just like Silena had done all those years ago.
The thought was enough to set him off.
He stepped back, twisting his ring brandishing his black knives. "They have already disappointed me."
"Legion! Advance!"
His command was met by the releasing of countless arrows, the moving forward of swordsmen and spear wielders, and he himself approaching the large sea of enemies.
Wasting no time, he punched a dracaena in the face, swiping its legs out from underneath it and stomping on its head, killing it immediately.
He kicked forward at an empousa, his boot connecting in the dead center of its face, caving the bone in and shattering its facial structure, ending its life.
One after the next, monsters fell at his blades, and campers could not help but to stare at him even in the height of battle.
They had seen him train before, but on the battlefield, he was so much more elevated than anyone they had ever seen. He fought with elegance, some of his moves being impossibly complexed and more effective than anything they had done thus far.
He was simply just graceful.
But unfortunately, their divided attentions almost costed them a soldier.
With her eyes glued onto him, Annabeth was absent to the fact that there was a large 15 foot tall Hyperborean giant that approached her from behind.
"Annabeth!"
Piper shouted at the top of her lungs to get the attention of the grey eyed woman, but by the time the daughter of Athena could pivot herself, it was already too late.
««•••»»
As she spun herself around, there was almost no time to spare before she was introduced to the sharp edge of the Giant's sword.
In a desperate attempt to preserve her life, she rolled to the left, but her movements were not enough to save her.
The sword penetrated the flesh of her stomach, cutting diagonally upward and stopping at the base of her rib cage.
With a shrill scream, she fell to the floor, clutching the wound as the blood escaped her body.
She tried to relax her ragged and labored breathing, but she could feel her eyelids growing heavier and her body going limp.
She was at the brink of death.
Her vision blurred and she could feel with tears leaving the corners of her eyes as she remembered the two people she was going to leave behind.
How would they survive without her?
How would they grow up the way she intended them to be?
What she did not expect however, was the sight of Perseus moving into the direction of her aggressor, jumping exquisitely to a mortally impossible altitude and ramming his blades into the skull of the Giant.
He dragged himself down, savagely ripping through the blue, icy skin and tearing through vital organs, viciously killing the monster.
He noticed Chiron, who fought with a small sword against his father.
It was clear that the centaur was uncomfortable with the weapon, as his attacks were sloppy and uncoordinated. He also appeared to be growing tired, and Perseus knew that his old mentor would soon fall if he continued to fight the way he did.
So against his initial judgment, the General lifted his knife at Kronos, and with precise aim, he threw the pointed blade, impaling the right eye of the Titan king.
Because no matter how much hate and animosity he held for the dwellers of this camp, he would always hold more of the said feeling towards Kronos.
Perseus spread his arms, and across the fighting grounds, his enemies erupted into yellow flames, the scorching heat of the fire quickly turning them to ash.
Soon, there was nothing left of the opposition, but the remnants of murdered monsters, broken and discarded weapons, and Kronos, to whom laid almost lifelessly on the golden dusted grass, twitching ever so often.
Perseus turned, walking back to Annabeth and gently lifting her into his arms, disregarding the fact that Nyx stared intently at him, doing her best to conceal the anger and jealousy that boiled within her.
He moved quickly through the camp's boarder, heading into the direction of the infirmary, assuring the wounded woman that she would be fine whenever she winced or cried out in pain.
The last thing Annabeth remembered before her eyes closed, was him laying her carefully onto the hospital bed, his face appearing sympathetic to see her in this situation, and eventually, him leaving again after a short moment.
Alone in her solitude, Annabeth could not help but to think one single, specific thought.
'Maybe he knew.'
•••••
«3075 words»
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