Chapter One
PERCY
Percy woke up by himself in the middle of ruins. They had obviously once been part of a great house, but it wasn't now. He couldn't see much otherwise; the night was moonless. Where was he? Better yet, who was he? All he could remember was his first name, Percy. The rest was like reaching into a deep abyss. You knew what you were looking for, but it was still too far out of reach. Percy scrunched his face, trying to remember, but nothing came. What had happened to him?
A noise like leaves crunching made Percy jump to his feet.
Unknowingly, Percy reached into his pocket, pulled out a ballpoint pen and uncapped it. The thing in Percy’s hand—once a pen—had transformed into a three-foot-long bronze sword. The sword emanated a dim glow that seemed to give Percy sudden warmth. For some reason, this didn’t disturb Percy. He felt like he had a hidden connection to this sword.
Why have you brought him here? someone said.
Percy spun to the direction of the voice. In front of him, two yellow eyes observed him cautiously.
Nearby a female responded, It is the only way, followed by a growl that Percy figured was too loud to be her stomach. Unless if she had an excruciating appetite. Plus, considering the fact that Percy may be on the menu. Then the creature stepped out from amongst the shadows.
The creature was a gray wolf, except that it was twice the normal size. Around seven-feet-tall in height, the creature towered over Percy. The creature illuminated such power that she gave off her own light. Even with peripheral vision, Percy could no longer see the wreckage and debris that once surrounded him. Percy was now in his own world. Just him against a seven-foot-tall menacing wolf.
Percy could see that he was wearing a tattered orange T-shirt that may have been used as a wolf’s scratching post, blue jeans, and a five-beaded necklace.
Percy positioned his bronze sword pointed at the wolf’s heart. (Or at least he thought.) The wolf hissed, baring its razor sharp teeth, each one as long as Percy’s finger.
Percy looked up to find himself surrounded by a dozen strong, gray creatures. "W-who are you?" he asked, his voice more confident than he felt. Percy remembered somewhere that canines could sense fear. So it was technically hopeless for Percy to keep sounding upbeat.
"I am Lupa," said the wolf. She was easier to distinguish with her larger size and foul breath. "I train young Roman demigods."
The word demigods stirred back some distant memories, but like a fish, it flitted away.
"But all of my demigods must first pass 3 tests,” Lupa continued. “Ones you must pass as well. Come with me."
Percy looked around. The yellow eyes of a dozen wolves seemed to bore into him. Percy couldn’t tell what they would do if he moved. But Lupa did give him permission to follow her. Even if they did pounce, Percy had an excuse to give the wolves a not-so-pretty haircut.
It is necessary Percy, said that other voice again. Necessary for all of our survivals. Percy just couldn’t trace back that voice, but it seemed too familiar.
"Hera?" Percy guessed.
"Yes," the wolf, Lupa, responded. "Hera is the one who brought you here. We call her Juno." The wolf went silent. She signaled him to come follow her. Percy’s legs buckled. He knew he couldn’t trust her. But it would be smarter to just follow her trail. Percy wouldn’t have been surprised if there were any traps that lay ahead. But he had made up his mind. For some reason his body longed for adventure. And Percy had a strange feeling that that was what Lupa was leading him to.
He followed.
Finally, after what seemed like a hike over Mount Everest, they stopped.
Percy hadn’t paid much attention that his face ended up in Lupa’s rear. She turned and growled. Percy noted that growling may have been one of Lupa’s hobbies. Because apparently, she was a natural at it.
The forest they had been in earlier had become a rocky terrain. There were no trees or plants of any kind from as far as Percy could see. A few feet away from them was a chasm that was at least a hundred feet wide and went on forever. Boiling lava flowed through the chasm, melting everything that it came in contact with into goo. Percy wasn’t a bit surprised how easily it took for this Magma Nile River to form.
Lupa barked and all twelve of the wolves emerged from a billowing curtain of steam. Percy hadn’t even noticed that they had been following him this whole time. Percy couldn’t believe how dumb he was. If the wolves had been given any more opportunities, Percy would’ve been dog chow.
Lupa jumped across the chasm with ease. The other wolves followed with the same agile motion.
Percy’s knees buckled again. Did they really expect him to jump over the chasm with that much skill?
The she-wolf turned. "No cub of mine will hesitate in the face of danger. Jump or we'll eat you."
Percy could just imagine the other wolves slobbering at the mere thought of tearing through his flesh. So with a shrug, Percy jumped.
He had a feeling that it wasn't the dumbest thing he'd ever done. He was falling toward the lava. Without any thought, he thrust out his arms. A welcoming power surged through him. Bit by bit, chunks of rocks began to tear off of the chasm, positioning themselves like floating platforms. Percy didn’t know what he had done. But one thing was for sure; he finally had a way to get across the chasm.
Percy suddenly remembered his elementary childhood when he used to play hop-scotch with his friends. And that was exactly what he needed. All Percy had to do was land on each of the platforms as if they were hop-scotch squares. Besides, he had already landed on one of them.
But it was definitely not that easy. The sheer thought of falling into the lava was enough to make his legs start quivering. This enhances the probability of him dropping down into the lava and becoming Percy Soup. Might as well go for it. Percy called forth all of his power and leaped…across to the other platform. And the other and the other. Fear had been his biggest problem. But it had slipped away like gift wrapping.
After a few more bounds, Percy had made it across.
Percy’s sea green eyes focused on Lupa. She nodded her approval. "Not bad, not bad at all, demigod. Come with me, you still have two more tasks." And once again, Percy had no choice but to follow the pack of wolves through the woods.
As they ran down the path, Percy realized he had dropped his sword. Once again, he reached into the pocket on the side of his jeans. There was that pen, a single weight in his pocket. He decided to keep it. He didn't know how long it took for the pen/sword to reappear and when he might need it again.
The wolves stopped in front of a river, or at least Percy thought it was a river. All he knew was it wasn't made of water. The wolves crossed and turned back to face him.
Lupa chanted, "No pup of mine will bow to pain, hesitate and you will be our meal."
Percy carefully submerged himself into the river. He found that it was not water, but acid. It burned him and his clothes. He was on fire. A sense of Déjà vu came over him as he felt himself burning to ash. Hold onto something he recalled from, well from somewhere. Hold onto something, anything, it said. But he had nothing to hold onto. Was this how it felt when you were in a near-death scenario? Taking slow, deliberate steps, he crossed.
When he reached the other side, the wolves nodded at him in what he thought was an approving manner. Once more, they ran away, giving Percy no choice but to tag along.
This time when they stopped, it was at a boulder. The rock was covered by a thick layer of vines. The only opening was the one they had come from. Lupa indicated that he sit on the rock. Percy sat carefully, eyes never leaving Lupa.
"No pup of mine," Lupa began, this time the rest of the wolves joined in as she chanted, "shall leave what's important for his weakness. Stay idle if that’s what pleases you, until the true enemy comes."
Percy reached into his pocket. He had a bad feeling about this. That’s when the voices came. At first they were soft, but the sound grew to a ringing effect. The voices so familiar. Yet so distant.
"Help me Percy. I'm making a giant a bridal gown."
"Brother, help me."
"Sweetheart, I need you."
"Percy, the Hunters need you."
"HEY! SEAWEED BRAIN! HELP ME! PLEASE! BY ALL THE GODS HELP ME !"
That last voice sounded so familiar. That girl needed him so much and her voice did funny things with his heart. But Percy just sat there, waiting for his true enemy. As if on cue, out of the woods walked a boy in his late teens early twenties with a scar down his left cheekbone. Somehow Percy knew that this boy was a son of Hermes. The boy’s eyes were gold. A double-bladed scythe materialized into the teenager’s palm. Lupa and the other wolves turned and walked away.
“Hey!”
Percy faced the boy. The way his voice sounded, like scraping a metal against rock, irritated Percy. The boy emanated an ancient aura. His voice sounded ancient as well. Centuries older than the gods even. But something about this boy brought back memories that even Percy didn’t want to remember.
“Luke?” Percy said.
The boy’s expression hardened. He thrust his scythe out at Percy’s chest. “Thy name is Kronos.” Percy grimaced. When he said that it felt like time froze at the mere mention of his name. “Luke is dead. His soul rests in the Underworld. And you are soon to meet him, young hero.”
“Fear me, Perseus Jackson, son of Poseidon.” The titan waved his scythe in a circle and finally brought it to his side. As he did this, the titan’s form changed. Once a teenage boy, the titan became a ten-foot-tall snoring woman with mud-baked skin, raggedy torn robes, and the foulest stench. If you were to not take a bath for over a year—which you strictly shouldn’t do—then you would’ve smelled like a fraction of how bad this woman smelled.
The woman loomed over Percy. “I…snore…am…snore…Gaia.” Percy figured that it would’ve taken Gaia at least a minute to finish at least one sentence. He hoped that she was also slow. But he shouldn’t have underestimated her, because a few seconds later, the Sleeping Giant pounced.
Considering the fact that she had mud-baked skin, an incredibly bad sense of style, never in her life had she come amongst soap, and surprising agility. For the most part, Percy felt hopeless. But throughout his journey, Percy had learned that fear was one of his biggest obstacles. And he couldn’t just let it win over him. Percy did the most appropriate thing he could think of—he reached into his pocket and pulled out his ballpoint pen.
“Wish me luck,” Percy whispered to himself. He uncapped the ballpoint pen and soon enough found Riptide embraced in his hand.
Yet again, the scythe appeared in Gaia’s outstretched palm. Percy moved to block her first blow. The scythe’s blade had become some sort of multicolored slate. Some parts of the blade had a hot red glow, while other parts were pink and purple, and sometimes the dull gray color of plain stone. In a quick swipe, the swords connected.
“Ah, so you like my blade,” Gaia said. “It is connected to the Earth, as am I.”
Gaia continued to attack, Percy waiting for an opening to return the favor. In the meantime, he started sensing for water—the only thing that gave him power. He found it, a stream just a few yards from the clearing. Slowly, he pulled it toward him, weaving the water through the narrow splotches of lava that dotted the terrain.
Percy held his concentration, but he could still feel his power draining from him. He needed a distraction. Percy knew that great deities loved to brag. "So who are you?"
"I?" Gaia said—her voice sounding more ancient and powerful than even the greatest god or titan—while fighting onward still. "I am the first mother, the mother from which you all came. Yes, even of you, you puny son of Neptune. From me you came and," she paused in both speech and movement. Percy couldn't even fight back anymore. He rolled away as the scythe bounced harmlessly off his shoulder. But that was as far as he could go; because Gaia had cast some sort of magic that made the earth cling onto the soles of his shoes. Percy felt like he was in quicksand. Gaia grinned evilly at him and, still sleeping, finished, "to me you shall return."
Once again she brought up her blade. Percy couldn't move, so he did the one thing he knew he could. He called forth the water he had been drawing from the stream.
Gaia turned to face her doom. The water rose up in a giant wave and washed on top of the dirt woman. She became a soaking pile of mud. With a roar of fury came from the mass that was dirt lady. A tree branch came from the side of her, grasping a struggling blond haired girl. She looked at Percy with pleading gray eyes, her tan skin covered with patches of dirt.
Even as a blob of mud, Gaia’s voice still echoed in his head, saying, "Without her you won't survive. And if you don't survive, the quest won't either. For a quest can't succeed without a sword, an arm, or," she paused, letting the tension build, "a heart." The tree dissolved into the ground, the girl sinking in with it. The spell had broken and Percy stood there gasping for breath.
What in Hades had that been about? Who was that pretty blonde girl? Why did he feel so strong a connection to her? And why couldn't he remember her, but she still felt so familiar?
Lupa came up beside him. "Come now, son of Neptune, we must see from where it is Juno sent you."
Whoever he was and whoever Lupa was, Percy had concluded one thing. He was needed somewhere. By someone. And nothing would stop him from fulfilling his destiny—whatever it was.
Lupa gestured Percy onto her back. “Are you ready?” she asked.
Percy nodded. And with that, Lupa let out a long, thunderous howl, and set off to the unknown.
PERCY
Percy woke up by himself in the middle of ruins. They had obviously once been part of a great house, but it wasn't now. He couldn't see much otherwise; the night was moonless. Where was he? Better yet, who was he? All he could remember was his first name, Percy. The rest was like reaching into a deep abyss. You knew what you were looking for, but it was still too far out of reach. Percy scrunched his face, trying to remember, but nothing came. What had happened to him?
A noise like leaves crunching made Percy jump to his feet.
Unknowingly, Percy reached into his pocket, pulled out a ballpoint pen and uncapped it. The thing in Percy’s hand—once a pen—had transformed into a three-foot-long bronze sword. The sword emanated a dim glow that seemed to give Percy sudden warmth. For some reason, this didn’t disturb Percy. He felt like he had a hidden connection to this sword.
Why have you brought him here? someone said.
Percy spun to the direction of the voice. In front of him, two yellow eyes observed him cautiously.
Nearby a female responded, It is the only way, followed by a growl that Percy figured was too loud to be her stomach. Unless if she had an excruciating appetite. Plus, considering the fact that Percy may be on the menu. Then the creature stepped out from amongst the shadows.
The creature was a gray wolf, except that it was twice the normal size. Around seven-feet-tall in height, the creature towered over Percy. The creature illuminated such power that she gave off her own light. Even with peripheral vision, Percy could no longer see the wreckage and debris that once surrounded him. Percy was now in his own world. Just him against a seven-foot-tall menacing wolf.
Percy could see that he was wearing a tattered orange T-shirt that may have been used as a wolf’s scratching post, blue jeans, and a five-beaded necklace.
Percy positioned his bronze sword pointed at the wolf’s heart. (Or at least he thought.) The wolf hissed, baring its razor sharp teeth, each one as long as Percy’s finger.
Percy looked up to find himself surrounded by a dozen strong, gray creatures. "W-who are you?" he asked, his voice more confident than he felt. Percy remembered somewhere that canines could sense fear. So it was technically hopeless for Percy to keep sounding upbeat.
"I am Lupa," said the wolf. She was easier to distinguish with her larger size and foul breath. "I train young Roman demigods."
The word demigods stirred back some distant memories, but like a fish, it flitted away.
"But all of my demigods must first pass 3 tests,” Lupa continued. “Ones you must pass as well. Come with me."
Percy looked around. The yellow eyes of a dozen wolves seemed to bore into him. Percy couldn’t tell what they would do if he moved. But Lupa did give him permission to follow her. Even if they did pounce, Percy had an excuse to give the wolves a not-so-pretty haircut.
It is necessary Percy, said that other voice again. Necessary for all of our survivals. Percy just couldn’t trace back that voice, but it seemed too familiar.
"Hera?" Percy guessed.
"Yes," the wolf, Lupa, responded. "Hera is the one who brought you here. We call her Juno." The wolf went silent. She signaled him to come follow her. Percy’s legs buckled. He knew he couldn’t trust her. But it would be smarter to just follow her trail. Percy wouldn’t have been surprised if there were any traps that lay ahead. But he had made up his mind. For some reason his body longed for adventure. And Percy had a strange feeling that that was what Lupa was leading him to.
He followed.
Finally, after what seemed like a hike over Mount Everest, they stopped.
Percy hadn’t paid much attention that his face ended up in Lupa’s rear. She turned and growled. Percy noted that growling may have been one of Lupa’s hobbies. Because apparently, she was a natural at it.
The forest they had been in earlier had become a rocky terrain. There were no trees or plants of any kind from as far as Percy could see. A few feet away from them was a chasm that was at least a hundred feet wide and went on forever. Boiling lava flowed through the chasm, melting everything that it came in contact with into goo. Percy wasn’t a bit surprised how easily it took for this Magma Nile River to form.
Lupa barked and all twelve of the wolves emerged from a billowing curtain of steam. Percy hadn’t even noticed that they had been following him this whole time. Percy couldn’t believe how dumb he was. If the wolves had been given any more opportunities, Percy would’ve been dog chow.
Lupa jumped across the chasm with ease. The other wolves followed with the same agile motion.
Percy’s knees buckled again. Did they really expect him to jump over the chasm with that much skill?
The she-wolf turned. "No cub of mine will hesitate in the face of danger. Jump or we'll eat you."
Percy could just imagine the other wolves slobbering at the mere thought of tearing through his flesh. So with a shrug, Percy jumped.
He had a feeling that it wasn't the dumbest thing he'd ever done. He was falling toward the lava. Without any thought, he thrust out his arms. A welcoming power surged through him. Bit by bit, chunks of rocks began to tear off of the chasm, positioning themselves like floating platforms. Percy didn’t know what he had done. But one thing was for sure; he finally had a way to get across the chasm.
Percy suddenly remembered his elementary childhood when he used to play hop-scotch with his friends. And that was exactly what he needed. All Percy had to do was land on each of the platforms as if they were hop-scotch squares. Besides, he had already landed on one of them.
But it was definitely not that easy. The sheer thought of falling into the lava was enough to make his legs start quivering. This enhances the probability of him dropping down into the lava and becoming Percy Soup. Might as well go for it. Percy called forth all of his power and leaped…across to the other platform. And the other and the other. Fear had been his biggest problem. But it had slipped away like gift wrapping.
After a few more bounds, Percy had made it across.
Percy’s sea green eyes focused on Lupa. She nodded her approval. "Not bad, not bad at all, demigod. Come with me, you still have two more tasks." And once again, Percy had no choice but to follow the pack of wolves through the woods.
As they ran down the path, Percy realized he had dropped his sword. Once again, he reached into the pocket on the side of his jeans. There was that pen, a single weight in his pocket. He decided to keep it. He didn't know how long it took for the pen/sword to reappear and when he might need it again.
The wolves stopped in front of a river, or at least Percy thought it was a river. All he knew was it wasn't made of water. The wolves crossed and turned back to face him.
Lupa chanted, "No pup of mine will bow to pain, hesitate and you will be our meal."
Percy carefully submerged himself into the river. He found that it was not water, but acid. It burned him and his clothes. He was on fire. A sense of Déjà vu came over him as he felt himself burning to ash. Hold onto something he recalled from, well from somewhere. Hold onto something, anything, it said. But he had nothing to hold onto. Was this how it felt when you were in a near-death scenario? Taking slow, deliberate steps, he crossed.
When he reached the other side, the wolves nodded at him in what he thought was an approving manner. Once more, they ran away, giving Percy no choice but to tag along.
This time when they stopped, it was at a boulder. The rock was covered by a thick layer of vines. The only opening was the one they had come from. Lupa indicated that he sit on the rock. Percy sat carefully, eyes never leaving Lupa.
"No pup of mine," Lupa began, this time the rest of the wolves joined in as she chanted, "shall leave what's important for his weakness. Stay idle if that’s what pleases you, until the true enemy comes."
Percy reached into his pocket. He had a bad feeling about this. That’s when the voices came. At first they were soft, but the sound grew to a ringing effect. The voices so familiar. Yet so distant.
"Help me Percy. I'm making a giant a bridal gown."
"Brother, help me."
"Sweetheart, I need you."
"Percy, the Hunters need you."
"HEY! SEAWEED BRAIN! HELP ME! PLEASE! BY ALL THE GODS HELP ME !"
That last voice sounded so familiar. That girl needed him so much and her voice did funny things with his heart. But Percy just sat there, waiting for his true enemy. As if on cue, out of the woods walked a boy in his late teens early twenties with a scar down his left cheekbone. Somehow Percy knew that this boy was a son of Hermes. The boy’s eyes were gold. A double-bladed scythe materialized into the teenager’s palm. Lupa and the other wolves turned and walked away.
“Hey!”
Percy faced the boy. The way his voice sounded, like scraping a metal against rock, irritated Percy. The boy emanated an ancient aura. His voice sounded ancient as well. Centuries older than the gods even. But something about this boy brought back memories that even Percy didn’t want to remember.
“Luke?” Percy said.
The boy’s expression hardened. He thrust his scythe out at Percy’s chest. “Thy name is Kronos.” Percy grimaced. When he said that it felt like time froze at the mere mention of his name. “Luke is dead. His soul rests in the Underworld. And you are soon to meet him, young hero.”
“Fear me, Perseus Jackson, son of Poseidon.” The titan waved his scythe in a circle and finally brought it to his side. As he did this, the titan’s form changed. Once a teenage boy, the titan became a ten-foot-tall snoring woman with mud-baked skin, raggedy torn robes, and the foulest stench. If you were to not take a bath for over a year—which you strictly shouldn’t do—then you would’ve smelled like a fraction of how bad this woman smelled.
The woman loomed over Percy. “I…snore…am…snore…Gaia.” Percy figured that it would’ve taken Gaia at least a minute to finish at least one sentence. He hoped that she was also slow. But he shouldn’t have underestimated her, because a few seconds later, the Sleeping Giant pounced.
Considering the fact that she had mud-baked skin, an incredibly bad sense of style, never in her life had she come amongst soap, and surprising agility. For the most part, Percy felt hopeless. But throughout his journey, Percy had learned that fear was one of his biggest obstacles. And he couldn’t just let it win over him. Percy did the most appropriate thing he could think of—he reached into his pocket and pulled out his ballpoint pen.
“Wish me luck,” Percy whispered to himself. He uncapped the ballpoint pen and soon enough found Riptide embraced in his hand.
Yet again, the scythe appeared in Gaia’s outstretched palm. Percy moved to block her first blow. The scythe’s blade had become some sort of multicolored slate. Some parts of the blade had a hot red glow, while other parts were pink and purple, and sometimes the dull gray color of plain stone. In a quick swipe, the swords connected.
“Ah, so you like my blade,” Gaia said. “It is connected to the Earth, as am I.”
Gaia continued to attack, Percy waiting for an opening to return the favor. In the meantime, he started sensing for water—the only thing that gave him power. He found it, a stream just a few yards from the clearing. Slowly, he pulled it toward him, weaving the water through the narrow splotches of lava that dotted the terrain.
Percy held his concentration, but he could still feel his power draining from him. He needed a distraction. Percy knew that great deities loved to brag. "So who are you?"
"I?" Gaia said—her voice sounding more ancient and powerful than even the greatest god or titan—while fighting onward still. "I am the first mother, the mother from which you all came. Yes, even of you, you puny son of Neptune. From me you came and," she paused in both speech and movement. Percy couldn't even fight back anymore. He rolled away as the scythe bounced harmlessly off his shoulder. But that was as far as he could go; because Gaia had cast some sort of magic that made the earth cling onto the soles of his shoes. Percy felt like he was in quicksand. Gaia grinned evilly at him and, still sleeping, finished, "to me you shall return."
Once again she brought up her blade. Percy couldn't move, so he did the one thing he knew he could. He called forth the water he had been drawing from the stream.
Gaia turned to face her doom. The water rose up in a giant wave and washed on top of the dirt woman. She became a soaking pile of mud. With a roar of fury came from the mass that was dirt lady. A tree branch came from the side of her, grasping a struggling blond haired girl. She looked at Percy with pleading gray eyes, her tan skin covered with patches of dirt.
Even as a blob of mud, Gaia’s voice still echoed in his head, saying, "Without her you won't survive. And if you don't survive, the quest won't either. For a quest can't succeed without a sword, an arm, or," she paused, letting the tension build, "a heart." The tree dissolved into the ground, the girl sinking in with it. The spell had broken and Percy stood there gasping for breath.
What in Hades had that been about? Who was that pretty blonde girl? Why did he feel so strong a connection to her? And why couldn't he remember her, but she still felt so familiar?
Lupa came up beside him. "Come now, son of Neptune, we must see from where it is Juno sent you."
Whoever he was and whoever Lupa was, Percy had concluded one thing. He was needed somewhere. By someone. And nothing would stop him from fulfilling his destiny—whatever it was.
Lupa gestured Percy onto her back. “Are you ready?” she asked.
Percy nodded. And with that, Lupa let out a long, thunderous howl, and set off to the unknown.