Forsaken Chapter One

Forsaken

Chapter One

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Mount Olympos, home of the Greek Pantheon, was a place that had long held the imagination and dreams of mankind. A beautiful, shining place from which the gods reigned over all of creation, described by Homer as a massive, sprawling akropolis nestled into the mountainside, just below its peak. Guarded by golden gates, filled with divine palaces, a place of peace, prosperity, and divine wisdom. A place as close to paradise as the mortals could imagine, greater even then the Isles of the Blessed. A place where the gods of Olympos, the Sacred Council of Twelve, ruled over and defended mankind with grace and wisdom.

If only Homer and all those mortals had seen Olympos and its Sacred Council now, they should weep in disappointment, if the shock didn’t kill them outright. Artemis, Goddess of the Hunt and the Moon (amongst myriad other things), mused sardonically as she watched her family argue, the only thing they ever seemed to do these days, from atop her throne. Even before Luke Castellan had started his rebellion on behalf of the King of Titans (she would not even think his name, not even here on her literal seat of power), her family had been at each other’s throats. It was almost as tense as the old days, when the likes of the Trojan War had pitted Olympian against Olympian. Fortunately, it wasn’t yet at the point it had been during the World Wars, when the children of the ‘Big Three’ had warred amongst themselves and dragged the rest of humanity along with them. Something that, if repeated today, could very well spell the end-times for mortal life…and therefore the gods themselves, who would fade away with the destruction of those from whom they drew power.

But the son of Hermes had started a rebellion, and it was one that was growing quickly. She (for obvious reasons), Demeter, Dionysus, and the Big Three themselves were the only ones that had not yet had at least one of their children join the rebellion. This was not a merely a schism, a handful of bitter, angry, immature teens lashing out at absent parents, but an armed revolt that was rapidly heading in the direction of outright civil war. The only positive about the entire situation was that none of the currently alive Big Three children were remotely interested in signing on with the rebels, and that the Romans were (thanks entirely to cultural differences) remaining loyal to the last.

Now, the Council was debating on how best to handle the situation, or even the level of danger that the situation posed.

“…argument is absurd! The very notion that Father could return is ludicrous in the extreme! We cut him into pieces with his own scythe and scattered his remains across the width and breadth of Tartarus! An entire realm of existence! He can’t return, we made sure of that!” her father was currently blustering to the united front of his brothers, the god of the underworld and the god of the sea both scowling at his continued obstinacy. An increasingly common sight over the last decade or so.

“Yes, we tossed our greatest enemy into the spawning pools of his most natural allies, the monsters of legend that resurrect as often as possible to slaughter our children like animals!” Poseidon growled, nearly shouting at the end, rubbing his forehead in manifest frustration as he struggled to control the tempestuous temper that had made him so respected and feared by the ancients. “Of course they helped resurrect him, he probably promised them free reign in the mortal world, just like the good old days! There are dozens of reports of minor gods and goddesses flocking to his banner, ambushes on demigods and satyrs trying to reach camps are increasing across the board, and then there is what happened to Artemis!”

The auburn-haired goddess in question flushed and scowled slightly as the entire room turned to her, but she nodded her agreement.

“Brother, surely you must agree that Atlas being released, in such a way intended to cripple one of our most effective scouts, and one who specializes in eliminating the most powerful monsters Tartarus is capable of spawning, would not be done on a whim. How would Castellan’s followers even know where to find Atlas, never mind how best to free him and trap Artemis, if Father were not returning?” Hades tried to point out, quite reasonably, ever the calmest of the three brothers.

“Not to mention the onrushing Great Prophecy time limit.” Artemis added, leaning back on her throne as she entered the conversation fully. “Father, you must admit that this many things going wrong, all at once, with the Great Prophecy so close to expiring, cannot possibly be coincidence. With no offense meant to anyone here, I don’t imagine that a group of angry demigods rebelling against their parents constitutes a threat so great that one of your children, or Hades’ children, or Poseidon’s son, is required to either preserve or destroy us.”

There was a rustle from the rest of the Council, neither agreement nor disagreement, but a whisper of tension as she voiced the fear that few were willing to confront. For millennia, they had endured, long past the time their worshippers had left them behind for other gods, surviving and even thriving off of the surviving ideals and cultural foundations that their ancient followers had built. Something that had allowed them to survive as so many other pantheons withered away to nothing or were imprisoned by the mortals that had once bowed before them. For millennia, they had been unchallenged, following the heart of civilization from place to place, uncontested by whatever pantheons had once called those places home.

For millennia, they had not confronted anything that could dreamof facing their might.

They had allowed themselves to ignore, to forget, to dismiss. The threat the Great Prophecy was something that no longer needed to be worried about or considered, a problem for another decade or century, not the here and now.

Except it was here, and it was now. With Thalia virtually resurrected, with the Di Angelo’s freed from the Lotus Casino, with Perseus cutting a swathe through monsters, averting wars, completing quests and (her lips quirked infinitesimally at the thought) saving goddesses, none could deny that the ‘children of the eldest gods’ seemed to be present in full force.

“I will admit no such thing!” her father shouted, slamming his fist down on the arm of his throne and glaring around the council chambers, even as Hades sighed in disappointment and Poseidon swelled with outrage. “There has been not a single occurrence these past few years that cannot be explained by certain minor deities stirring up trouble amongst the demigods! Not one! Dozens of them fought during that war, any one of those that have joined the brat’s rebellion could have told him where Atlas was imprisoned! Father’s name is a rallying point, chosen for the disenfranchised and those loyal to his ideals, nothing more!”

With that, he rose to his feet, declaring the Council over and vanishing in a blast of lightning and a roar of thunder. One by one, the rest of the Council followed, leaving only Artemis, Poseidon, and Hades. Sighing, the silver-eyed maiden got to her feet and made her way over to her uncles, who were murmuring in low tones to one another.

“Uncles.” She greeted, getting a nod from Hades and a tired smile from Poseidon.

“Niece. Thank you for your attempt, futile though it might have been in the end. One would have hoped that your kidnapping and narrow salvation would have convinced your father of the seriousness of this threat, but it seems his armor of arrogance is untarnished even by the harm done to you.”

“Never mind the near-death of your son and my daughter.” Hades growled, his jaw clenching, and Artemis swallowed slightly, remembering how furious her uncle had been with her for accepting Bianca’s request to join the Hunt. The girl hadn’t known she was a demigod for so much as a day, he had shouted, and had been stuck parenting her own little brother for nearly a century. She was hardly in the right state of mind to make irrefutable oaths that could decide her entire future, and Artemis should have made her wait longer, think about things, before accepting it. Fortunately, he was currently angrier at Zeus, and beyond joyous that Bianca had survived the quest in the first place, leaving him little interest in restarting that particular argument at the moment. “If ever Perseus needs something, you have my word on the Styx itself that he shall have it for saving my daughter, brother.”

Thunder crashed as the oath was made, and Artemis (despite being naturally leery about oaths made on the Styx) couldn’t help but nod in approval, and Poseidon looked as gratified as he did surprised when he thanked his elder brother for the offer and the vow that made it ironclad.

“How is Percy doing, Uncle? I know that holding the sky was not an easy thing, never mind everything else that happened.” She asked, more curious and concerned about his health than she had been for any male in the history of her existence, something that her uncles seemed to recognize. Fortunately, both were also perceptive enough to know why she would care so much, and Poseidon sighed as his shoulders sagged.

“I do not know. Zeus has forbidden me from travelling to camp to see him, and between doing what I can to muster my kingdom for the coming conflict and the Council meetings, I have been unable to make use of Iris’ services to check that way. The last I heard was that he was bed-ridden and being treated by your brother’s sons and daughters.” He admitted bitterly, mouth twisting with anger and self-recrimination, eyes beginning to shimmer with tears. “Doubtless he thinks that I have abandoned him in his time of need, and with Sally unable to reach camp…who is there to offer him comfort? Who is there to thank him, to reassure him that we will not allow my brother to kill him for being too powerful!”

“I will go myself, Uncle. My Hunt is awaiting my return there, Father can hardly prevent me from going anywhere my girls are.” Artemis offered promptly, alarmed by the sight of tears in his eyes. The swift temper and tempestuous moods were commonplace for the God of the Sea, so like his prime domain, but tears were something she had never seen in his eyes before. Besides, Poseidon had a point. Perseus deserved some peace of mind, if nothing else, in regards to her father’s paranoia and (though the man would likely never admit it, thanks to what little tact and cunning he seemed to possess) desire to see Thalia as the child of Prophecy. The discussion (if the shouting match that could be called that) over the matter of whether Percy would be killed had been a particularly brutal one, despite its one-sided nature. Only Athena, Ares, and Dionysus had sided with Zeus, and the mere suggestion had actually gone so far as to raise the ire of the Eldest Olympian herself.

Artemis shuddered slightly in remembrance, even as she nodded farewell to the Sea and Earth and flashed away, racing towards Camp Half-Blood with the speed of the moon itself. She had never seen her aunt Hestia’s ire roused before, had always known her only as the loving, peaceful, hearth-tending aunt that had given up a seat of the Council to prevent a war.

That day, she had been reminded that Hestia was the eldest Olympian. She had never seen something so beautiful, and so terrifying, as Hestia’s wrathful form. Twenty feet tall, her hair quite literally formed from flames, the air shifting and weaving around her like a mirage from the pure heat she was exuding, heat that surpassed even what she had seen her brother Apollo put out when wielding his Sun aspect, voice like the roar of a furnace as she wielded her authority as the Goddess of Family to chastiseher baby brother.

“Ah, Lady Artemis, welcome back!” the chorus of voice that greeted her the instant she materialized in the cabin dedicated to her brought a smile to her face, despite the darkness of the past few hours, and she greeted her Hunt happily. The family that she had forged for herself, each one a young girl that had desperately needed salvation from the cruelties of mankind. Nymphs that had caught the attention of gods or whose trees were butchered for man’s forges. Girls abused by boyfriends, relatives, random strangers. Even a handful abused by the women in their life, though those were few and far between, as such victims preferred not to join an all-female group dedicated towards violence.

“Where are Zoe and Bianca?” she asked after a moment with a frown, not seeing either her oldest friend or her newest huntress amongst the crowd around her, and it was Phoebe who answered.

“They visiting that Poseidon boy. Have been, for hours every day. It’s disgraceful, spending that much time with a boy.” Her niece hissed discontentedly, and Artemis couldn’t restrain the slight frown on her face. Nor, to her almost absent surprise, did she try very hard to restrain it.

“Perseus is not like so many of the boys we have known, Phoebe, certainly not like the boys that brought so many of you to me. Do not forget that he saved me from the sky, saved the lives of Bianca and Zoe both. Without his actions, you would be short two sisters and a mistress.” She chastised mildly, before looking away as the girl flushed in embarrassment and anger. “My father refuses to act on the matter of the rebellion, but that doesn’t mean we are unable to act. All of you are to prepare yourselves and patrol a twenty-mile radius around the camp, starting from the edge of the barrier. The rebels have been attempting to prevent more demigods from reaching camp, and will doubtless attempt to attack the camp directly, as they did when poisoning Thalia’s tree. Slaughter any monsters that you find, and bring any demigods here. Be cautious, loyalties are difficult to discern as things stand.”

The cabin descended into a flurry of motion as they set about obeying her commands, and she slipped out the door. Looking around for a moment, she started towards the lake, and the cabin that rested on its edge. As she walked, absently nodding to anyone who mustered the courage to address her, she couldn’t help but become aware of the changed atmosphere present in the camp. Once, it had been a place of enjoyment, a place where the campers spent their days training and enjoying their lives, despite the pressures and dangers that they were under. But now…now, there was a weight to this place. Laughter was rare, the mood was dark, and few of the campers were out and about. The handful that were moved quickly from place to place, and most cast concerned glances towards her destination as they did. That was not encouraging, nor was the fact that Phoebe had mentioned Zoe and Bianca spending hours every day at the Poseidon cabin. Not because she thought they would break their oaths, but because that implied that Perseus was unwilling or (far more likely) unable to leave the cabin at all.

Sweeping through the door on silent feet, she padded into the main bedroom, freezing with shock as her eyes widened. It’s inhabitants all turned their attention to her, and she absently noted the presence of not just her two hunters, but Thalia and Annabeth as well, but all of her focus was on the young man that had saved so many people’s lives and preserved her freedom…and possibly her purity, for that matter.

He looked emaciated, there was no other word for it, gaunt and thin and weak. Nothing like the lithe, athletic young man that had held the sky. His eyes were dull, their sea-foam gleam reduced to a haze, his black hair visibly thin and brittle, laced through with grey streaks, as if parts of it had aged decades overnight. She didn’t need to be a healer, like her brother, to recognize someone that was dying when she saw them. Percy Jackson was wasting away before her eyes, and she found herself very unhappy about that fact.

“Ah…Lady Artemis…!” he greeted her with a smile, or the ghost of one at least, his eyes brightening ever so slightly as he pushed on his bed with shaking hands, clearly trying to sit himself up properly, and every woman in the room moved forward to prevent it.

“Percy, stop!” Annabeth’s voice was the first to fly, as she placed gentle hands on his chest to keep him still. “You’re in no shape to be moving around that much.”

“Especially not for her.” Thalia muttered, softly enough that Artemis was likely the only that could hear her, and even then, thanks only to her divine senses. She frowned lightly, somewhat disappointed that her half-sister seemed to dislike her so much, and baffled as to the cause. She couldn’t recall ever wronging the girl, and she generally had a good memory for mortals and demigods that had earned her ire.

“Please, listen to thy friend, Percy. Your injuries are severe and you are recovering still. My lady can visit with you when you awaken again.” Zoe said gently, and if Artemis wasn’t in full agreement with her lieutenant, she probably would have been shocked that the girl was suggesting that her goddess and patron waitfor a boy!

“I’m fine…” he tried to protest, the thin, whispery nature of his voice giving away the lie, his eyes already drooping. Knowing time was short, shorter and in more ways than she could ever have imagined, Artemis moved forward.

“Sleep, Perseus. I will be here when you awaken.” She assures him, patting one of his hands in awkward, if genuine, gentleness and gratitude. Her mouth quirking slightly, she lightly jests. “I am, after all, immortal. Even if you should sleep in and keep we ladies waiting, I have nothing but time.”

He gave a short, rasping chuckle, the girls smiling a bit tremulously and giggling in a distinctly forced way that he fortunately didn’t notice, before his eyes finally drifted close, his shallow breathing evening out as he fell into unconsciousness.

“What…” Artemis started to demand after a handful of moments to ensure he was truly asleep, but she was silenced as Thalia held up a hand sharply, pointing out of the bedroom towards the main lounge. Not particularly appreciating the attitude or the gall of this child to act in such a way, Artemis nonetheless fell silent long enough for the entire group to make it out of immediate earshot from the sleeping hero. “What is wrong with Perseus? He looks like he’s been starved for months, never mind the cosmetic changes!”

“We’re not entirely sure, Lady Artemis, but we do know that he doesn’t have long left, short of literal divine intervention.” The daughter of Athena said quietly, morosely, Bianca holding her hand gently. Thalia, for her part, simply glared hatefully at the Lady of the Moon.

“If it wasn’t for you he wouldn’t be dying, wouldn’t be suffering like this!” she hissed bitterly, small sparks crawling along her arms and dancing between her knuckles. “You fucking Olympians, you haven’t changed a bit! You use us like weapons, then when we break, you toss us aside and act like we should be grateful for you using us in the first place!”

She scoffed, brushing past Artemis with an aggressive shoulder bump, sneering over her shoulder.

“Small wonder people are flocking to that fucking traitor, when gods like youexist.”

The daughter of Athena looked back and forth between the half-siblings, gnawing on her bottom lip slightly, before darting after the departing demigoddess with a plaintive cry of her name. The three silver-clad women watched them go, before Artemis turned her attention to her oldest follower and her newest.

“Thalia wasn’t fond of The Hunt to begin with, and now she blames you for Percy’s condition.” Bianca explained, recognizing the inquiry in the goddess’ eyes. “If he hadn’t had to rescue you, he wouldn’t have had to hold the sky up, and he wouldn’t be in this condition.”

“As for her comments on the matter of the gods, well…” Zoe seemed uncharacteristically hesitant to continue, but pressed on when Artemis met her eyes. “My Lady, you know I love you and trust you more than any other, but the both of us know that your divine kin are not known for their regard towards mortals. Even their own children. For Thalia, who spent so many years as a tree due to her father’s actions, only to be poisoned by the very person she sacrificed her life to save, hhen she is saved by the efforts of young Perseus, who is now…”

Dying.

The word wasn’t spoken aloud, but it was heard clearly all the same, and Artemis scowled at nothing in particular, folding her arms under her breasts as she took her lieutenant’s explanation to heart.

“I’m going to go speak with Chiron. I have your sisters patrolling the area around the camp in case of a follow-up attack here, but I want one or both of you to remain with Perseus at all times. I doubt that everyone loyal to Castellan’s cause has abandoned the camp, and the son of Poseidon would be a rich target indeed at the best of times, even before helping thwart Atlas’ liberation. In his current condition, he would be helpless before an assassin.”

Both inclined their heads in obedience and agreement, moving back to the boy’s bedside, and she couldn’t help the head-shake that followed when they sat down, Bianca claiming one of his thin, pale hands as Zoe brushed his sweaty hair out of his face.

Her half-sister and Athena’s girl were nowhere to be found when she exited, which was well enough given her focus on speaking with Chiron as quickly as possible. Crossing the camp with long, determined strides, she swept into the Big House like a storm.

“Why is Perseus Jackson not being healed by the Children of Apollo?” she demanded of the Trainer of Heroes.

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Chiron had been deep in thought, thoughts edged with desperate depression, when the doors had been thrown open so dramatically, startling him out of his contemplations.

“Ah, Lady Artemis. I had not known that you had arrived in the camp.” He responded, coming around his desk and bowing respectfully, but the Maiden of the Moon was clearly in no mood for small talk or niceties.

“Perseus, Great-Uncle, why is Perseus not being healed? Why is he still dying, when the fruits of my brother’s unrepentant loins are so close by?” she repeated, sounding quite cross, and Chiron slumped slightly where he stood with a heavy sigh.

“Lady Artemis, your brother’s children have been healing him, but the damage is too extreme. It is not just his body that was damaged, but his soul. Holding up the sky, a task meant for no mortal, as long as he did has caused catastrophic metaphysical injuries. Even the Golden Fleece was ineffective.” He explained, waving a hand back towards his desk and the piles of papers and books that were scattered across it. “I have been looking through every piece of lore I possess for a solution, but…”

Artemis looked more shocked than he had ever seen her, but in all honestly he couldn’t blame her. It was not often that the gods couldn’t get what they wanted, it wasn’t often that the world didn’t suit their whims, and while he deeply appreciated that Artemis’ current whim seemed to be trying to preserve young Percy (doubtless born from a feeling of debt for her freedom and the lives of her followers), it was well beyond her power to heal souls.

“This makes no sense to me!” she cried with a frown, folding her arms and beginning to pace slightly. “Naturally one such as myself would be unharmed by holding the sky, but how is it that the traitor Castellan and the Chase girl are not in the same condition? Worse, even, for surely a child of Poseidon has greater strength than one of Athena or Hermes?”

Frankly, and privately, Chiron thought Artemis was over-estimating herself a bit. The gods and goddesses of mankind were shaped, in part, by mortal perceptions of them. And the mortal perception, for thousands of years, had been that only Atlas could hold up the sky indefinitely. Perhaps his father had a plan for changing that once the Olympians had been cast down and the Titans ruled once more, but frankly Chiron had no idea what Kronos’ plan might be beyond the obvious goal of seeking revenge and regaining power.

“Luke Castellan was, based on the testimony I’ve heard and the suppositions I can make, under the sky for only a handful of minutes before Annabeth took the burden from him, and her for only moments before you rescued her in turn. Furthermore, I can only assume that your grandfather did something to bolster his strength, some manner of the double-edged ‘rewards’ of the sort he is so fond to dispense.” The centaur responded, and while Artemis continued to frown, she nodded slowly in acceptance of his logical explanation nonetheless. Shrugging with a heavy sigh, he continued. “I am out of ideas, Lady Artemis, and I’m afraid that so long as your father’s decree is in place no further options will present themselves to me. At the rate things are doing, Perseus will be dead by the end of the week, if not sooner.”

“Unacceptable!” she snapped, sounding disgusted and almost angry at the very idea, and despite his stoicism and desire not to rock the proverbial boat, Chiron couldn’t restrain his eyebrows from rising towards his hairline. He hesitated to say it, so absurd was the idea, but he might go so far as to say that his grand-niece was personally invested in this situation, actually cared about Perseus. “He is not permitted to die, not until he has been repaid for Zoe and Bianca’s lives and my own freedom! If father’s decree is what prevents his salvation, than I shall deal with my father directly!”

She turned away in a swirl of silver, her physical form scattering into moonlight even as she stalked back towards the door. As it dissipated, Chiron couldn’t help but shake his head in bemusement, despite the gloom he still felt. He had never seen Artemis behave like that before, and it was frankly…kind of cute, in the ‘rambunctious child’ way. In fact, he had half expected to see her stomp her foot as she voiced her disapproval. What was it, he wondered, that made his typically cool, even cold, and impassive grand-niece become so emotional about someone and something other than her brother or her Hunters?

Well, he was sure that the answer would eventually present itself, in due time. For the moment, his responsibility was to continue care-taking his students and searching for ways to save Perseus, not pondering the foibles of Artemis.

Stretching for a few moments, human torso and equine body alike, he turned back towards his desk and the information thereon, determined to do his part.

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