No.
It can't be.
But as I watched the fight unfold beneath me, I grew more and more sure.
When he came close enough for me to clearly see his face, my doubts were confirmed
Percy.
I couldn't imagine the kind fisherman's son who used to sell me fish as a gladiator. And yet here he was, cutting down men as if they were trees.
He looked older, and stronger, than the last time I had seen him. I could see determination in his eyes, and I knew that he wasn't just fighting for his life- he was fighting for someone.
The sight made me want to cry. Where was the boy who had given me shells he found on the beach just to make me smile, and felt bad about killing fish?
"Wine," The king ordered gruffly, and I refilled his cup.
The pool of contenders kept getting smaller. Eventually, it was just Percy and a blond boy with a scar on his eye.
I could tell from Percy's facial expression that he did not want to fight this boy. That, in some way, he cared about him.
But their swords met anyway.
They both fought with such skill and elegance, that I was impressed. They seemed to be of equal skill levels.
But the blond boy had gotten a nasty cut on his calf, and I knew that he was going to lose because of it.
And I also knew that killing a friend would destroy Percy.
"Jason?" I asked. He looked up.
"Yeah?" He asked.
"Can you ask your father to spare both of the fighters?" I pleaded. When it came down to two fighters, the king could decide if he wanted the loser to live or die.
"Why?" He asked.
"I know one of them," I replied honestly. "Please?"
"Maybe," He replied. Then he turned his attention back to the fight.
My heart was beating a mile a minute. I knew that if Percy killed this boy, it would destroy the last bit of the boy I knew he had left.
Eventually, Percy knocked the boy to the ground. He looked up at the king, pain and and a small bit hope in his eyes.
"Jason, please!" I pleaded.
There was a small pause as Jason thought about it. And just as the king was raising his thumb, which was the gesture that meant that Percy would kill the boy, he spoke.
"Father," He said. "He fought valiantly and skillfully, especially with his wound. I think you should spare the boy."
The king looked at Jason in shock. Then Octavian spoke.
"I don't know, uncle," He said. "I kind've want to see him get stabbed through that scar on his eye."
There was a small pause as the king thought about it. It took all of my willpower to stop myself from marching up to Octavian, smashing my wine vase on his head, and strangling him.
Someday, I thought, you will pay for what you did to Rachel.
It may not be at my hand, but he would. No one hurts the people I love.
Eventually, the king made up his mind, and raised his thumb down.
I sighed in relief, and so did Percy. That meant that the boy would be spared.
He helped him to his feet, and then they left the Colosseum together, the blond boy using Percy as a support.
"You so owe me," Jason muttered as I refilled his wine.