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If the muse Clio ever recorded the tale of Perseus Jackson, he would be compared to a burning star. A centre for events that revolved like planets, full of will and determination to protect his precious ones, just like a star that protects its planets from cosmic radiation. He was the main factor responsible for mortal life then, saving the world from destruction as the main piece twice over. However, what likened him to a burning star the most was the magnitude of his achievements. If someone dared chase after the feats of Perseus Jackson, tried to go too close, they would fall, not unlike Icarus of yore, who fell after flying too close to the sun.
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Twenty-one-year-old Perseus Jackson was arguably the greatest demigod in the history of the Greek and Roman heroes, his feats surpassing those of even the ascended Dionysus and Heracles. After five years of constant turmoil, saving the world repeatedly, his life had come to a state of balance; well, as balanced as a demigod’s life could be. He had given up on his dreams of attending college in New Rome, facing a severe bout of survivor’s guilt after Jason’s death. How could he attend it after it was his selfishness that had caused Jason’s death? If only he had agreed to help Apollo. It was at sea that Jason had died, the sea, Percy’s home turf! Instead, he had taken over Jason’s promise to honour the minor gods, planning out shrines for the hundreds of minor deities of Greece and Rome, honouring his dead cousin’s wishes.
Jason’s death had been harder on Thalia, her teasing personality having evaporated, a combination of both losing Jason and several huntresses, finding comfort in the presence of Percy, owing to their similar childhoods and the memories of Jason. This was how Percy had gotten stuck with an excited 10-year-old daughter of Apollo called Noelle, who had taken the information about being a demigod with acceptance rather than apprehension, and a boy named Maverick, a son of Demeter with dark brown curls and green eyes, escorting them to camp along with Annabeth and Thalia, who had volunteered for the quest whilst the hunters visited the camp, looking for recruits, attempting to recover from the absolute massacre Orion had caused.
They had set out in the morning on Pegasi, Blackjack chattering away with Percy telepathically. The Pegasus rarely failed to lift Percy’s mood, his easy-going and teasing demeanour bringing joy to those who could understand him. Thanks to the Pegasi, they reached their destination in a little over 3 hours, compared to the seven it would take on road. Percy felt a pang of pain as Maine brought memories of Bianca to the front of his mind, one more death he blamed himself for.
They landed in front of a decent-sized retirement home, filled with flowers and plants of several kinds. Percy was pretty sure that a love for nature and agriculture was a prerequisite to catch the goddess of agriculture’s affections. Maverick’s father had been surprisingly accepting of the situation and his son’s heritage, agreeing to let him stay at camp, asking about visits with teary eyes. The group walked towards the patch of grass where the Pegasi were grazing, letting the young demigod ask questions.
“So, um, Mr Percy, you are a son of Poseidon, right? So, so, what can you do? Whip up some badass storms? Cause super big earthquakes?” Maverick asked, voice full of excitement.
Percy chuckled and ruffled his hair, ignoring the pang he felt in his heart. Gods, the kid sounded just like a ten-year-old Nico, asking similar questions just a few miles away all those years ago. Another wave of guilt crashed over him, remembering the root cause of Nico being forced to grow up, the first death Percy had ever witnessed: guilt that refused to fade away despite being absolved by the victim herself. A ten-year-old kid had been forced to grow up, not unlike other demigods, but Percy couldn’t just shake off that feeling. A part of him would always resent the gods for pawning off their jobs to their offspring.
Percy’s demeanour did not reflect his inner turmoil; a smile plastered on his face as he replied to the enthusiastic kid.
“Call me Percy. And yes, I can whip up storms. I can’t say whether they’re badass. I really can’t cause Earthquakes yet, only mild tremors.”
He shrugged when he caught Annabeth frowning at him disapprovingly as the kid smiled and turned to Thalia, asking questions along similar lines. Annabeth glared at both of them when Thalia commented about Percy being the greatest demigod of the generation, which he was trying to wave off.
Thalia looked at him with an exasperated expression, which conveyed the words she couldn’t say out loud. It said, ‘Dam. I have to hear her bitch about how she is the greatest demigod ever later. I’m fed up.’
Percy was fed up, too. He had liked Annabeth, but her controlling, holier-than-thou attitude, coupled with looking down on other people, except for a select few. Unfortunately for Percy, he wasn’t one of those exceptions. And the choices of her exceptions made his blood boil with rage, despite his nature of not holding grudges. The people whom she looked up to were her mother, Athena, who had basically signed her death warrant, and Luke, a traitor who had as good as sucked the life out of several innocent demigods and monsters. Even Thalia hadn’t been spared from being belittled by the person she had looked at like her little sister, when she hadn’t agreed with the ‘Luke is a hero’ theory Annabeth had propounded, being called out for ‘being corrupted by those damn hunters.’
Percy wanted nothing but to break off things with her, but the memories of jabs to the ribs, kicks to the shins, and punches to the guts made him shiver, bringing long-buried memories of another man from a decade ago. He cursed himself mentally, bitterly musing about the fact that he had fears of being hurt by a dead mortal and his own girlfriend. He had accomplished several feats that would’ve made any mortal tremble in fear, but he was still scared of something. He cursed silently and broke out of his thoughts, Maverick’s antics with the Pegasi and their snarky replies bringing a wide smile onto his face. Ah, the joys of interacting with kids untainted by divine wars. The smile widened as he thought of his four-year-old half-sister, Estelle, back at home. Children never failed to brighten his mood, another reason for him hanging around camp for most of the time. Travelling had only become easier once he had enough ichor in his veins, being able to learn a form of ‘flashing’ as the gods called it, from his father, Poseidon, that involved dematerialising into and materialising out of sea-mist. He dreaded the thought of his upcoming ascension into godhood, which he had been warned about.
They happily conversed, flying at a leisurely pace, Percy translating the words of the Pegasi for Maverick, who had been extremely fascinated, Thalia and Percy snickering at the words of the Pegasi, Annabeth remaining stoic. The Pegasi picked up speed, heading toward Manhattan as Maverick held on to Percy tightly, torn between excitement and fear.
The group had then stopped about twenty miles away from their final destination, picking up the little ball of sunshine that was called Noelle, Apollo’s daughter, who had been personally recommended to stay at camp by her father from that time due to her powerful scent, making sure that she would have no premature experiences with the monsters. Apollon’s recent stint as a mortal had brought about several changes in his behaviour, one of them being openly showing affection to his demigod children.
Noelle’s mother was a singer and knew about her former lover’s true identity, and Noelle having grown up with the knowledge and stories about the god’s modern-day persona. Noelle had been surprisingly mature in contrast to her regular personality, which exuded childish innocence when Thalia had offered the girl a position in the hunt, politely asking to see Camp Half-Blood before making a decision. She had been torn between sadness at having to stay away from her mother and excitement at visiting a new place. She had also gotten along well with Maverick, striking up a conversation before she had hugged her mother a tear-filled goodbye, brightening up as she saw the Pegasi, chattering excitedly with Thalia on the mount they shared.
They were around 8 miles from the entrance to the camp when disaster struck. Percy was absolutely sure that the Fates either hated him or were just plain cruel, as a bunch of Harpies flew straight at them, attempting to feast on their flesh, and they were at a complete disadvantage, tasked with protecting their charges, Thalia being unable to use her bow and arrows due to the lack of space, and Annabeth carrying only a knife. The Harpies were soon turned into piles of dust that scattered across the ground by well-aimed bolts of lightning from Thalia’s spear and arrows made of water that Percy had drawn from the moisture in the air and clouds, but not before the Pegasi slowly descended, panting and grunting from the ichor that flowed out of cuts and gashes across their bodies. Maverick and Noelle were fortunately unharmed but shivered in fear as they witnessed the dark reality of their lives.
They were forced to continue on foot, courtesy of their injured mounts, both Thalia and Percy sporting cuts across their arms. They had walked and walked, the younger demigods weary from the ordeal, till they were at the base of Half-blood hill, when they were interrupted by rustling and hissing, followed by angry snorting and grunting. Percy’s blood turned cold as he turned around, coming face to face with his old enemy, Asterion the Minotaur, a bunch of Dracaenae, and a moderately sized Drakon, poison dripping from its mouth. The recruits were quickly sent off to fetch help, specifically directed to Chiron, as the three veterans held the line, already exhausted and battered from the previous fight. Drawing water from only moisture had taken a lot out of Percy. The Minotaur had watched almost amusedly, just a bit of fear as he remembered the previous encounter with Percy, as he slashed through the legion of Dracaenae, Annabeth taking on a single one, due to the short range of her knife, while Thalia kept the Drakon at bay, lightning-tipped spear drawing blood and roars. The Minotaur casually walked into the fray, looking over at Percy with a look of contempt, clearly gleeful at being able to finish off what it considered its greatest enemy, who was panting after the tiresome fight. Annabeth stood steady, waiting for the next move Percy would make. Percy’s blood froze as the Drakon shot blobs of poison from its mouth at Thalia, who was in no position to avoid it. He reached towards the cracked ball of mortality deep in his being, taking control of the Poison the Drakon shot out, deflecting it from his cousin’s path.
Percy watched in horror as Annabeth began to tremble and then screeched out, not minding the battle at all.
“PERSEUS JACKSON! HOW DARE YOU BREAK YOUR PROMISE! YOU COULD HAVE KILLED HER!” She screeched, kicking Percy’s hamstrings, what looked like trauma from Tartarus kicking in. She pushed Percy forward in anger and fear as he attempted to move another blob of poison away from Thalia. His stomach felt wet and warm as pain shot through his entire being, his voice failing as he attempted to warn Thalia of the poison. He watched in horror as the poisonous mist hit Thalia's face, and she fell to the floor, the poison killing her almost instantly. He coughed up blood, slowly straightening up against the tree that once held Thalia’s spirit. He watched Annabeth’s eyes widen in horror as the Minotaur swung its axe almost casually, as she attempted to run into the camp. A bout of anger and desperation took over him as he realised the hard truth: Thalia, his cousin, who had been like a sister to him, was dead, and the two monsters in front of him were responsible. He carelessly reached into his divine core, his body slightly glowing, blood sizzling and slowly turning into golden ichor, his hand slowly moving, as the Drakon’s weapon turned against itself, just as the Minotaur burst into golden dust and black liquids, axe rolling down the hill, one of its blades tinted with Percy’s coppery blood.
Percy forcefully attempted to stop the divinity in his body from overtaking the mortality, attempting to push the heat and energy that was seeping out of the shattered glass ball in his guts. He hissed in anger as he felt the sound of hooves, slowly followed by footsteps.
“Where were you?” He hissed at Chiron, his voice having slightly recovered. He sent a death glare at the centaur’s excuse about thinking about how they were supposed to handle themselves.
“How many demigods have died because of your inaction, Centaur?” He hissed.
“Don’t answer that. You know it very well.” He hissed.
“Percy! Don’t speak to Chiron like that! You will die without his help now! And you would’ve already died without mine! Apologise to him now!” Annabeth shot in defence of her father figure. Annabeth trembled with fear as Percy’s death glare turned towards her.
“Thalia died because of you. I could’ve saved her.” He hissed, his voice coated with venom. The huntresses and Nico looked up in shock, grief and anger, having arrived at the scene. Understanding dawned on Nico’s face as he saw the remains of poison sizzling against the grass.
His gaze was filled with contempt and hatred as he turned towards Chiron, blood more gold than ever before, body surrounded by a golden glow. His eyes had a hollow look to them, wallowing in pain at the loss of Thalia, combined with contempt and power. He was prepared to take an extremely impulsive decision, but the rational part of his brain thought about how these people were his loved ones. He crushed those thoughts. These people had caused the death of his beloved cousin, indirectly, and the hero trainer had been responsible for several demigod deaths. Let it be known that gods are never merciful, and at that moment, Perseus Jackson was more god than mortal.
His eyes shone with power, the shake in his voice due to injuries having all but disappeared, his voice sounding almost ethereal.
“Trainer of heroes. You have indirectly caused the death of several heroes due to the ‘first test’ you insist on conducting, making new campers make it to camp with no help from the inside. Hear me, gods of Olympus. I, Perseus Jackson, son of Poseidon, hereby curse the trainer of heroes, Chiron. May he be hunted, like we demigods are, never being able to find rest, due to his role in the deaths of my family.”
Chiron looked on in shock, open-mouthed, but he knew he had been doomed. He had been cursed with the power of a god. Annabeth attempted to come to his defence, but was the only one. The campers and Hunters stared at Chiron with undisguised disgust and hate. This incompetent excuse for a trainer had caused the deaths of their kin because he had thought that he was above helping them.
Percy cut off Annabeth, who had begun screaming at Percy. He had never looked at her like that, with completely cold eyes.
“Annabeth Chase. You think that you are above everyone, even the gods. You belittle others left and right without giving a damn about their feelings and lives. You cannot see the bigger picture due to your hubris, and on this day, it caused the death of one dear to both of us. Hear by, I curse you. You shall never find satisfaction in your life. You will never feel pride in your life.” He said, his voice slowly fading as he forcefully stopped his ascension. Living forever would be a curse now. Golden ichor with the barest hints of crimson spilt out of his mouth as he went into a fit of rasping coughs.
The fates really had a cruel sense of irony, he mused. Both he and Thalia had died in the place where they’d had their first brushes with Thanatos, with the latter being suspended in between the two states. He mentally apologised to the people he was leaving behind: Nico, Poseidon, Hazel, Frank, Clarisse, Chris, Will, Katie, his mother, Estelle, and Paul were among them. An expression of relief flitted across his face, the weight of survivor's guilt that he had been carrying since that fateful day of Bianca’s death easing off his shoulders for the first and last time. He just hoped that they could forgive him, as he finally walked towards them, guided by the god of death, whom he had once rescued. He would actually pass into the realm of the dead as neither god, mortal, nor demigod, something in between, cross the Styx without a mortal body. For Perseus Jackson, death hadn’t been cold; it had been almost welcoming.
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Clio would later record that Perseus Jackson had lived and died like a burning star, only lacking in longevity, his death like a supernova that had changed the world, having affected gods, demigods and monsters. He would be revered in the chronicles as the greatest demigod to walk the earth, the god who had partially ascended. The gods would take better care of their offspring to honour a fallen hero who had wished so. In death, he had proved that even gods could change.