His Return
Chapter 26: Jenny's Song
Location: The Outskirts Of Athens, Greece
"Life Puts Us In Seemingly Impossible Situations. How We Handle Our Circumstances Is What Defines Us And Makes Us What We Are."
•••
They had only just began settling into the new lands, and Perseus could already see that time was dawning upon him.
They ran far. For a day and two nights, in the hopes of losing their pursuers.
Their running brought them here; a place just outside the margins of Athens.
It was a small city, appearing to be deserted, but he knew that looks could be deceiving. He did not like the idea of laying camp in such an open, vulnerable environment.
Ahead there was a wooded landscape not that far away. That's where they were headed right now. Demigods were tired, logically, after walking tirelessly for many miles. Their commander understood their need for rest, and he intended fully to grant this to them.
Gods and demigods marched ahead, he himself falling behind, his mind racing so much that he could barely form complete thoughts.
So many things had gone wrong in the last few weeks, and now everything was catching up with him. All the decisions that he'd made; good, bad and indifferent. All had lead him here.
He thought about Noland; how such a small child could possibly be a traitor. This, at least is what Perseus perceived it to be. He found it quite weird that Noland would to take his leave of absence at the very moment he was being ambushed. He just couldn't wrap his head around the fact that this little boy had out witted him, though was the perfect decoy. There are few people in the world, no matter how intelligent, who would look at a young child and believe that they would be the one to cause their downfall.
Of course, along with the disbelief, guilt came racing behind.
Guilt for what he had done to Malcolm Pace.
Killing an innocent man.
Regardless of what the facts pointed to at the time, Perseus could now see that it was all a lie. The pieces of the puzzle were starting to come together, though most of it was yet to find a correct fit.
The only thing he could believe was that Noland saw the skeleton army raiding cabins and put two and two together. For a young child he was quite clever. It was around time for breakfast when Perseus had called the order. Campers were already at the mess hall, so they wouldn't have known what was happening. Noland saw them on his way to breakfast and decided that he'd plant it in the nearest cabin, in someone's bunk. Unfortunately, the one he chose was Malcolm Pace's.
In all fairness, Perseus did nothing wrong. He only had the camp's best interest at heart, and he realised something.
He did not hate Camp Half Blood. He understood that now.
But by no means did that mean that he had forgiven what they had done to him. He still held great disdain for his old home.
That camp made him the famous 'Percy Jackson.' The son of Poseidon and many other titles that he didn't care to list.
They made him, they killed him, and the Pit granted him a rebirth.
A new start.
Somewhere along the lines, his old life snaked it's way into his current, thus bringing him back to Half Blood Hill. It brought with it old memories and emotions that he believed were long behind him. It obstructed his marriage and his stayed like a parasite in his mind; never wanting to leave once inside.
And then there was Annabeth Chase.
This girl that he wanted nothing more than to hate, but somehow couldn't. Dislike and hate are two different feelings.
While he felt like she was not worthy of his respect, that definitely didn't mean that he hated her. He wanted to, but he didn't. In fact, Annabeth was right. Some part of him still loved her, and that shouldn't be. It was playing with his and Nyx's relationship. But of course, Nyx would never ask him to hate the mother of his children. She was a kind woman. People that say otherwise just don't know her. However, she wasn't aware of his and Annabeth's situation. He was certain that his wife would NOT approve of it. In fact, she just might kill him.
"Perseus." Artemis fell back to match his pace as they marched. "We should stop for now. We are deep enough in the forest where no one should bother us, and the campers grow tired."
He nodded, saying nothing.
Artemis went to her hunters, who immediately began setting up a camp with the little resources they had, which was harder than it usually would be given that the forest was a bit damp, implying that there must have been rain earlier.
The firewood wouldn't light, and it didn't take long before Thalia began spurring out profanities like a drunken sailor.
Perseus locked eyes with Hestia, asking her to help them, but she only held up a finger, telling him to wait. She seemed amused by the Hunters' inability to catch a spark.
After minutes had passed by, bringing no progress, only then did Hestia decide to help. All she did was clap her hands once and a fire began to blaze.
"Set up your tents and go get some sleep." He commanded, dusting some mud off his pants. "You'll need it."
He sat on a log right by the fireside and looked into the flame; the way it jumped and danced. He'd seen it a million times before but it was something he could never get tired of. He found it truly beautiful.
Minutes passed with him sitting stagnant in this one spot, doing nothing but staring.
Somewhere along the lines, someone sat next to him. He didn't care to find out who it was, keeping his gaze front. Everything was silent for a moment, the only sounds being the cackling of the flame and the howling winds.
"I can't imagine how hard it must be." A familiar male voice said. He looked to his left, finding a skinny man with long, black hair sitting beside him. His olive skin was pale and he wore dark coloured clothing, a black iron sword strapped to his waist. Perseus recognised this person as Nico Di Angelo. "To be responsible for the lives of so many people. Constantly under pressure. No room for mistakes. Having so many people turning to you for orders."
Perseus stayed quiet, the fire's light reflecting on his face. At his feet were a bunch of strong sticks and some stones. He picked a stick up and started carving and sharpening it with a black knife. "I have been doing this since I was twelve years old." He finally spoke. "What makes this time different?"
"It is different because the soldiers respected you when you were a child. They would fight and knew that if they lost their lives it was for a good cause. Now they are afraid of you. They are uncomfortable around you. Believe me I know what it feels like, I'm the son of the death god. They are fighting because the have to. Not because they're scared of the threat coming, but because if they don't give their lives to the fight then you will take it away from them." Nico said. "You need to find a way to make them feel secure around you."
"It's not my problem whether they feel safe or not." Perseus said, deathly serious.
Nico shook his head. "The Pit certainly does leave its stain on people." He said. "I understand."
For the first time in years, Nico saw Perseus smile. It wasn't meant to intimidate, but it wasn't pure. "Do you?" Perseus challenged him. "How do you understand, Nico Di Angelo?"
Something about people calling him by his full name had always given him a feeling of unease. It made them sound like villains.
"Have you forgotten that I have also been to the Pit—"
"Most of which was spent in a jar" Perseus cut him off. "Maybe you indeed have seen it, but have you truly experienced it? You were there once for some months. I was there for seven years. Yes the Pit stained me, but do you think I would be here if it hadn't. I was at the bottom of the food chain there. I was everyone's prey. I had to put the thought my own people casting me away behind me and I had to fight. Every. Single. Day." He ranted truthfully. "Any source of innocence that I had left after my own friends left me to death was taken away by the pit. Now tell me why I should care about how comfortable these people are. Or how much they're afraid. I was afraid every day. Every second. I wasn't to be here today. I was supposed to be dead."
Nico gazed at him, but Perseus stayed focused on his carving. He could now see that Perseus was shaping spears and arrows. He had already made several. "Then why are you alive?" He asked. "Do you think that you're here for nothing? This is your purpose. Your were cast into Tartarus to make you what you are now. The fates—"
"The fates do not control me—" Perseus defended.
"Oh but they do." Nico insisted. "The fates control everything. Maybe even the gods. That's just the way it is." He said. "The fates knew that you would become this. They put you in a situation where you would become the best leader you could be. I know that your journey may have been difficult, but it was for the best."
Perseus ran a hand down his face. "What is it that you want from me? Am I supposed to put everything behind me because it was 'meant to be?'" He said, sounding rather annoyed. "That is not the way it works, Di Angelo."
Nico stood up, and for a moment Perseus thought that he was going away, but he only grabbed some of the pieces of wood near his old friend's foot. He himself started sharpening the stones into arrow and spear heads.
"Do you think that I want to be here?" Perseus asked him, and Nico shook his head. "I'm the commander of an army in a losing war. Back in the pit when Nyx and I fought Tartarus we used an army of dead soldiers and monsters. I didn't have to worry about anyone dying around me because you can't kill what's already dead. You can only send them back where they belong." He expressed. His red eyes were unreadable, but the way his eyebrows scrunched made Nico aware of the fact that Perseus was worried.
"I'm not worried about my life. I am an excellent fighter, but even if I am to die, I believe that I would be ready for it. But if I die, you would still have to fend for yourselves. In comparison to the primordials, the gods are weak. I am Nyx's champion. I have a primordial's power within me. I can make a difference."
It was one of the few times that Perseus had been so open with his old friends. Honestly, it surprised Nico that Perseus had chosen him to express his thoughts to. It made him feel good about himself.
"Gaia, Ouranos, Erebus, some titans and a massive army." Nico said. "Sounds feasible."
Perseus smirked, amused. "Go get some rest. It may be the last time you get the chance for a while."
Nico nodded in agreement, setting down his arrows and going to his tent. As he walked, he couldn't help but think about what Perseus had just said. 'It may be the last time you get the chance for a while.'
Something about his statement seemed so spot on. He could feel it in the atmosphere. The way the winds grew colder, they way the air got thicker. The way the sky tinged red.
The war was coming.
And it was coming quick.
•••
By noon the following day, Perseus found himself still awake. Still carving.
The quiet was good for him. It gave him some time to think and get his head straight. It gave him an opportunity to get himself into a frame of mind to fight. He hadn't done so with living people at his back in quite some time. It would definitely be an adjustment. He would have to be so much more careful.
While he tried his best to sculpt as many weapons as he could, Perseus could see that it still would not be enough.
His brother made sure to make his life miserable before he died.
There was so much on his mind.
So much that he couldn't tell anyone else.
So many things that he was yet to figure out.
He seemed calm on the outside.
He looked composed and ever ready.
His words deemed him intelligent to those around him.
But on the inside there was so much conflict that he couldn't possibly wrap his head around it all.
It had been so long since he'd experienced a headache, and yet he found himself in the midst of an awful one. It was definitely a sensation he could live without.
In Tartarus, he had heard some monsters singing a song.
A beautiful one, in fact.
He would find himself singing the words unconsciously at times, and it would always come with a feeling of serenity, like a mother's lullaby to a crying child.
'High in the halls of the kings who are gone,
Jenny would dance with her ghosts.
The ones she had lost and, the ones she had found
And the ones who had loved her the most'
His sharp knives cut through the stone like paper.
'The ones who'd been gone for so very long,
She couldn't remember their names.
They spun her around on the damp old stones,
Spun away all her sorrow and pain.'
His voice shrunk to sing the words of the song. The rasp of his voice temporarily subsided as he sang, bringing forth a tone that he never believed he'd hear again.
The words made him think of everything that he had gone through in all of his life.
Oh how he wished that someone could spin all his sorrows and pains away. He came to realize that no one could. Not even his own wife.
He had been gone for so very long that he too could not remember the names of everyone, yet their faces, and their voices were forever etched into his mind.
'And she never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave
Never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave.'
And by the end of it he could feel someone's stare lingering on him from behind.
"I didn't know that you could sing like that." The person said.
Hazel Levesque walked around him and sat on the log adjacent from where he was.
He looked at her, saying no words.
His eyes were locked onto her, and he could see that his unmoving gaze made her antsy.
"How are you doing?" Hazel asked him as she tried to initiate a conversation. "All this time we've been in the same camp and we have not said a word to each other." She added. "Why is that?"
Still, he said nothing.
She watched the way his hands moved as he created weaponry out of wood, stones and string. How quick and skillful he was at it. They way he would drag the stone across his arm to make sure it was sharp enough. Hazel had never seen anyone else do anything like it before.
"You know it's not good to ignore the people who care about you." She said, her heart racing when he narrowed his eyes.
Perseus chuckled silently, only loud enough for him to hear. "You people care about no one but yourselves."
Hazel frowned, displeased with his statement. "How could you say something like that?"
"Because it is true." He said. "You are selfish. You are out for yourselves. I know that I possess the same qualities, but the difference between you and I, is that I am honest about what I am. Even now, you are still in denial."
Hazel looked at him, bewildered.
Perseus stood, the black knife disappearing as he did. "Get some more of these made." He said, pointing to the arrows and spears on the ground, intently avoiding her questions. "And do it quickly. Time is of the essence." He began to walk away, but Hazel ran and grabbed the sleeve of his shirt.
He looked down at her in annoyance, his eyes locking onto her gold ones. Even after this long, she still hadn't gotten accustomed to the bright red color his held. They startled her. They were blank and void of any emotion.
"In denial about what?" She asked, her gaze locked on his eyes yet again. A sea of hot blood, though they looked cold as ice. She was searching and failing to find something in them.
"It does not matter any more." He said, walking away.
Hazel however was desperate to get an answer from him. She was about to go after him again, but by the time she blinked, Perseus was no longer there.
***
That night, Perseus had a dream.
He stood in a dark cavern, gray mist creatures churning all around him, whispering rags of smoke that he knew were the spirits of the dead.
They tugged at his clothes, the intangible spirits pushing him up and around.
When he looked down, he was not in physical form. He skin was just as pale and foggy as the spirits around him.
The only source of light was at the what seemed like the front of the cavern, though a group of dead spirits ringed around it, chanting.
Perseus tried to move towards it, only to find the he could not move his legs. It was like trying to crawl against quicksand.
He reached his hand out, hoping for something to grab onto, but the only thing he felt were lashes from whips into his face and palms, pain immediately washing rapidly through his body, like venom from a snake's bite.
He screamed, but no sound came. His eyes bristled with water. He could not hide his pain.
Suddenly, something grabbed him from behind dragging him by his hair to the light, threatening to pull his locks from his head, but he could not fight against the force.
The creature pushed past the surrounding spirits, setting Percy on his knees in front of the orange flame.
The fire flickered and called to him, but Percy was focused on what was inside the small flame.
It was a humanoid figure that looked to be running through a forest. It was running away from something.
Or someone.
Again, Percy reached out to touch the flame.
His finger inched closer to the light with every second.
Just before he could touch it, the flame extinguished, and the cavern became ten shades darker than it had been before.
In that very moment, something kicked him directly in the chest, the force blowing him off the ground, sending him flying backwards until he hit a wall.
His body crumpled to the ground.
He could not move an inch.
It felt like every bone in his body had been shattered.
His eyesight blurred as they grew heavier, the life leaving his body.
Around him, the darkness laughed, and the ground shook.
"Look at you." A voice said. It was gravelly and rough like sandpaper. It sounded like the speaker had never drunk a glass of water in his life.
"Pathetic demigod." The voice said, angrily. "You think that you can challenge me?! A primordial god?!"
Erebus grabbed Percy and lifted him off the ground, squeezing his neck and suffocating him.
Percy did not have the strength to even clutch at his throat. Instead, he just laid limp in the air.
"I blessed you." Erebus said. "I gave you the power of a primordial. I branded you as my champion. I watched you grow into the perfect soldier in the pit, and this is how you repay me?!" He shouted. "Taking my wife for yourself and leading her to fight against me?!"
His hands squeezed tighter against Percy's neck.
"You will not merely die." He threatened. "I will see you suffer, Perseus Jackson."
"Wake!" the dead whispered. "Wake!"
Percy found himself falling through the darkness, having no control over his movements.
"We are coming, Jackson."
He could feel someone shaking him.
"And you will lose this war." Erebus promised.
And without another word, Perseus jolted awake.
***
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