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The air was biting, cold and rigid. Octavian didn’t particularly mind though — no, what he minded was the festering storm and rolling thunder clouds on the horizon. As Augur, it was his duty to divine the message the gods have sent him. The glares and spits he got as he headed up to Jupitar’s temple from his fellow comrades notwithstanding.
Thunder boomed as he entered the temple and Octavian hurried along to the altar. He didn't think about the last time Jupiter was in such a mood. The quakes of power searing through his temples as visions of lightning strikes burned villages and people to dust. No, Octavian instead thought of the boisterous laughter of his siblings as a storm boomed around them. Of the times when it was as if the storm was playing along to their childish claps with a loud quake of thunder following them.
Ah, it seems he's getting a bit too sentimental. No matter, Octavian has long since buried his heart under his duty to uphold the order and pride of Camp Jupitar. Much like his hands are stained red in the freshly dead animals offered to the gods, so too will the camp be if they don't appease the gods. Really, what did Praetor Reyna think when she sought to go to the old lands? They are forbidden for a reason.
The gods are angry. And Octavian is done playing with useless stuffed animals. He warned the senate that the old ways were there for a reason — that messing with tradition is treacherous, and yet, the council's soft palate won out. But if they won't get things done and rightfully appease the gods — Octavian will do it himself!
Thus, with a careful and quick slice, blood spilled from a young calf. The red seeped on the altar, as the animal thudded down, its heart beating its last. Octavian breathed in deeply and thanked the calf for its sacrifice on his exhale, for the spirits held in respiration — of the life taken and given. Octavian knew the gods would do much worse if they didn't get their dues.
Just as the patience began to seep away from him as the moments ticked away, the blood starting to dry, Octavian's received a vision with a searing clarity. The Earth claimed thousands of lives in her womb — the screaming and gasping as they were buried alive. The Greeks fighting the Romans in a bloody war as Terra Mater laughed.
Octavian gasped for breath, heaving and trying to calm his pounding heart.
“So, my descendant has finally decided to stop sacrificing useless pillow pets?!” A silky voice whispered.
But even quiet the voice held power, as the once cold room became almost sweltering hot.
Octavian instantly knelt to the ground, knowing intimately who this was — his ancestor, the source of his bloodline — Apollo.
“My lord,” Octavian spoke reverently and respectfully, staring at the marble tile. Nothing more or less unless given permission.
Octavian heard the footsteps heading toward him, the steps like a tap-tap to a somber dance. The legacy didn't dare look up, even as he saw the golden sandals of the god before him.
The god knelt down a bit, reaching hand up gently but forcefully and grabbed Octavian's chin, making him stare right in the burning gaze of the god. The legacy couldn't formulate words in his mind for how beautiful and terrifying those golden eyes were. Much later all Octavian could think was that he was staring right into the might of the sun, and the god protected him from burning from such a sight.
“Yes, you will do, my favored descendant.” The god whispered in Octavian's ear, the words coiling around his mind like a snake.
And then the god whispered to his descendant a plan of power and glory, and a burning fiery aftermath or of the righteous storm that will save the world from destruction. That should the storm save the world; the son of Jupiter will pay the price of sacrifice. But should Octavian intervene and influence the path of fate… of the scorn and distrust should Octavian survive it. The legacy didn't dare utter a word about how it would hardly be different then things are now and how any price was worth it as long as he stays alive, but somehow, he felt the god knew what he was thinking. The power of the gods uneclipsed and true.
The god’s eyes impossibly softened, looking more akin to the burning embers of dusk than the blazing glory of day, “Yes, my descendant, the one who shines brightly with my gift. You have shown resolve and cunning even as others look down upon and mock you. You are the one who knew that Mors was chained and forced Mars to acknowledge it, even if others began to look at you callously. You knew that you could not spare troops to help the quest to free Death, lest Camp Jupiter would fall. Even if you had to be seen as evil in the process.”
“So, I ask of you, my dear Octavian, are you willing to do what needs to be done?” Apollo asks, his voice stern yet kind.
Octavian looks into his ancestor's eyes, those beautiful balls of flame, and says, “Yes, my lord.”
“Then rise my Pontifex Maximus.” The god commands, and Octavian does.
Even if nothing changes outwardly with the title. There is no crown or laurel Octavian now wears, he feels as if a great force is weighing him down, but still he rises.
Like always, Octavian will do what needs to be done, even if others hate and belittle him afterwards. Still, if it saves the world, if it saves his brother, then what does Octavian care that people will think him evil.
“You will save us all,” The god claims, and then the air swelters, the god burning brightly making the legacy close his eyes from the sheer light.
Then, the air grows cold as the god deems his presence fit elsewhere, and a faint smell of laurels permeates in the temple. The sacrifice accepted and disappeared from view, even the stains of blood vaporizing before the legacy’s eyes. All but the blood that stained his hands.
All that's left is a paper floating down in the air. Octavian catches it, smudging the still wet blood from his offering on the paper. Both ends of the paper are charcoaled black and only one line can be read: to storm or fire the earth must fall.
Octavian straightens up and smiles grimly. He is the bridge between men and the gods, the Pontifex Maximus, and now has control of the Roman army. It's rather ironic that he now outranks all those that called him too weak and feminine to even wield a sword, but no matter, he knows his duty to camp and to the gods unlike them, who would rather sit by and watch the world burn. Ironic isn’t it, how the Morai twist and weave their tapestry?
Octavian may never be a good man, but he is at least a loyal one, and he will be damned to Hades if he didn’t do all he could to protect what little he has. He upheld the god's standards, even if others have faltered. He left his siblings to their father’s whims, because Lord Jupiter demanded it. Wanted them to prove themselves worthy of the king’s power and authority. Then, his big sister was mauled to the brink of death when she was twelve, and his little brother became more wolf than boy as Lady Juno demanded her prize.
But just this once, Octavian is able to uphold not just the god’s demands, but his personal one’s as well — one’s that he had to abandon so his brother grew up strong and capable. But now, with the future knowledge that Lord Apollo has granted him, Octavian won’t let the world fall to his storm if it’s the last thing he does. He will not damn his little brother to an early death, and so Octavian will brave the agony of burning alive — knowing his brother will be the one to survive.
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Fire was the hearth and the home, safety and warmth, but it was also destruction and searing pain. Why did his kin, the son of Apollo, or anyone else for that matter not tell him he was attached to the onager — to the unstable bomb of Imperial Gold that he devised to kill Mater Terra? Octavian knew he was to be burned alive to enact Lord Apollo’s vision to save the world — to save his little brother. But Octavian didn’t know it would be like this. Didn’t know that he was to be treated like an evil monster that needed to be burned alive.
Octavian knew he acted like a madman in his plans — that no one really liked him prior to his ascension to power. But did no one, not one of his comrades that knew him for years, try and understand why?
Octavian would like to say that it didn’t hurt — that his heart was long dead to the sting of betrayal — but like an innocent “witch” set to be burned at the stake, he was unprepared for how much fire would burn.
But guess it doesn’t matter anymore. With his ancestor’s help things were put in the correct motion, and now he was hurtled through the sky.
The air whipped around him like razors, and two screams joined him.
Octavian saw a vision, like he was no longer in his body of a boy flying on a bronze dragon and the evil Earth Goddess hurtling up in the sky. He watched like the phantom he was about to become as a brilliant fire erupted in the sky — pure golden white, brighter than Apollo’s might — and everyone one down below became blinded from the light.
‘Fiat Lux,’ Octavian thought, let there be light.
But, even as the vision of the blinding light came to him, and Octavian knew he was about to face his imminent death, all he could focus on was finding his siblings in the crowd.
There! He saw them for not even a second, but it was enough for Octavian to accept his demise. They were alive!
Still, that didn’t prepare the legacy for how much his death would hurt.
The might of the inferno charcoaled his flesh and ignited his veins in its all-consuming heat. The screams that ripped out of his throat were soon gone as his voice box crumbled to ash. The ringing in his ears like a blaring siren, but left to the silence of death, just as his eyes melted and empty sockets only saw darkness.
Thump-Thump.
The agony of living in a body that should have already been a corpse.
Thump
Why was he still alive? He just wanted this to be over.
…Thump
Octavian for once felt absolutely nothing. It was a kind of numbness that felt wrong, as if he was on the verge of Chaos, of the void of nothingness in which all life sprung from.
…
At last, he can rest.
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The scarred soul was taken up and examined like it was a partially interesting thing. Two pitch black eyes stared at the essence of the boy’s soul, looking down upon it from his long black beak.
“Yes, yes, you who have suffered and preserved.” The being spoke to himself, “Of the one who always kept learning, even as the wisdom of what was to come was horrid. Your ancestor has a kindness in his heart that leads to tragedy, but even then, he knew that yours was too much. Of a legacy that would be wrongly scorned, and a family that would be left aching at your seeming betrayal.”
“Well, Apollo was already to be punished he knew,” The being cackled, a trilling sound as his black and white feathers ruffled, and he examined a vial in his dark humanoid hand, “So why not have his son have two cures prepared.”
The being smiled with their beak, and the ashes of the dead was given the Asclepius’ cure for death. Nerves, organs, bones, muscles, ligaments, and flesh all brought back. The once horrifically burned and scarred flesh is now as soft as a newborn’s.
“Why hello,” the being spoke to newly opened golden eyes — eyes marked by divinity, “My little magician.”
“Who are you?” The now revived Octavian spoke, his words tumbling and unfamiliar as if this was his first time speaking.
“Why, my friend. I am Thoth.” The Egyptian God of the Moon, Magic, Writing, Learning, and Wisdom spoke.
“Why-” Octavian spoke softly, not able to bring words to his tumulus thoughts, of the memories of pain that were no longer felt as his heart beat strongly in his chest.
“-am I alive?” The god finished the legacy. “Well let’s just say Apollo had a bit of foresight, and didn’t want to lose his favorite descendant.”
The god stroked his neck feathers with his humanoid hand, “Your gods are quite possessive after all. And of course, how could I not help when he came to me speaking of a legacy of two pantheons. You are quite the commodity, practically nonexistent, so how could I resist?”
Octavian’s mind was whirling, but that’s when it clicked. No wonder he didn’t recognize the god’s name. The legacy remembered when he was very little and knew nothing of his father’s place in Camp Jupiter, when his mother was still alive and present in his life. When she brought her family to the movie’s she started in — of an ancient civilization that worshiped gods with animal heads and human bodies. A film about the Egyptian Gods that his father was none too thrilled to see, calling them ridiculous. Of the repercussions that followed as his parents started yelling and fighting and soon a little girl boy with blonde hair and electric blue eyes was born, who was not his father’s daughter son — and, thus, is Octavian’s half sister brother.
Turns out the youngest sibling born of adultery having the same electric blue eyes as the eldest sibling — a searing blue like a strike from the heavens — was too much for Father to stand.
Then, the rest is history. Father took Octavian away from his starlet mother, and his half siblings, and introduced him to camp Jupiter and all the gods they worship — and started training him for his future duty as Augur. Of the harsh words and punishments should Octavian not excel at what he was taught. Of the sparse news outlets that Octavian snuck out to watch — of his mother’s falling fame, and his older sister running away. Of the visions that started to eat away at him — of screams and suffering.
Then, the son of Jupitar came to camp — with all too familiar electric blue eyes, and Octavian knew, he knew that this boy that was more wolf pup than boy (because he was raised by Lupa, even given a new name by the Wolf Goddess than by their human mother) was his little brother. That those harsh words his father called his mother now made sense as Octavian looked into those familiar eyes, the echoes of childhood and innocence long gone. Understanding that their Father called Beryl whore for a reason, as she fell into the God King’s lust not just once but twice when she was a married woman. But the second time, Juno wouldn’t abide her husband’s transgressions and took the child as her champion — to mold him into a perfect soldier. Never having the chance to just be an innocent child, but to be a slave forced into servitude.
Octavian could do nothing but stay away as the wolf boy was turned into a perfect solider, as Jason was isolated from having a family or friends of his own! As his skin was branded at 3 years old!
But, of course, even if Jason, his little brother, was allowed to live — even if only for his potential to bring Juno glory, Thalia would not be spared, even if Juno seemed to turn a blind eye. The slight of Jupiter cheating not once but twice, was too much. And so, when Octavian was an angry ten-year-old, Thalia was just twelve, and Jason was six — his big sister was dead. And all Octavian had to show for it was the tears streaming down his face as he dreamt of his big sister being ripped apart by hellhound. No vision years later of her surviving erased the pain, knowing that he could do nothing by watching as her blood and bones became bark and sap.
“Are you alright, little magician?” Thoth spoke softly.
Octavian blinked, tasting a bit of salt on his tongue. He wiped at his face and oh, he was crying. He laughed a bit, the sound bitter and hoarse. His siblings probably didn’t even remember who he was, he was hardly in their lives after all, so what right does he have to cry over them?!
“Yes, I’m fine.” Octavian lied, his eyes red and stuffy.
The god thankfully didn’t call him out on his lie, “Well, in that case, I think it’s time I start to teach you about your other heritage. Of the pharaoh in which you and your father descended from.”
Octavian inclined his head, only a numb echo of surprise panting in his skull. He wanted to avoid his intrusive thoughts, so focusing on some hopefully strenuous tasks instead of recounting his broken family was very much welcomed.
“Well, you see, as a descendant of a pharaoh, and the deal Apollo made, you are now my host…” Thoth went on to explain Octavian’s heritage and his expectation as a host to Thoth.
Octavian took it all in clinically. Truthfully, it felt like a traded one cage for another, but at least this time Octavian’s wings weren’t clipped. In fact, he now had an avatar form that had wings, generously gifted to him from his new connection to Thoth — not that it helped with Octavian’s fear of flying when he remembered his death.
The god, his god, was surprisingly human in caring about and helping Octavian overcome this fear, but the legacy knew gods — they didn’t just help out of the kindness of their hearts. That’s just not how they work, it’s hardly even how humans work either. Octavian would know — he’s analyzed people’s behaviors constantly over the years to make sure he reacted appropriately — as people all too often liked to answer with their fists when he didn’t react the right way.
Really, Octavian did not understand why people ask how you are if they don’t actually want to know?!
That’s why Octavian liked the gods — they were true to themselves, to their essence. And Thoth, Octavian, was starting to learn was somehow a lot like him. He liked to read and learn everything he could. He was blunt and honest… and his family life was a mess.
Octavian really shouldn’t be relating in such a way to a god, but as Thoth's host he found himself learning more and more about the god. He found himself soaring through the skies and learning about the constellations with vigor and laughing at the god’s misconceptions to modern technologies. He threw himself at his host duties, though he did avoid the other avatars that tried to contact him like the plague. And he found himself trying to forget of the siblings that thought him dead, trying to live a new life without any human interaction. Of course, like a prophecy, you can’t avoid the inevitable forever.
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The wind that tousled around Octavian felt like freedom, and he spread out his white ibis wings, soaring through the sky, while the light of Apollo gently warmed his skin. Octavian felt free, flying above the world — everything down below a spec to his eyes, and no one could reach him as he soared high above in the sky.
Well, Octavian should have known not to think in absolutes. No normal person could reach him, but well it’s not as if he was prepared for someone to literally crash into him as he flew in the cloudless sky.
One second Octavian was simply flying through the air, and the next he was hurtling towards the ground — someone screaming at him as they knocked him out of the sky.
Octavian’s heart thudded in his chest, panic beginning to take hold on in his veins, but then everything seemed to stop — the air seemed to solidify around him, and a silence took hold around the area. There was no wind, no nothing. Nothing but the labored breath of two individuals.
“Sorry, for flying into you. I didn’t expect there to be anyone else in the sky,” a voice, an all too familiar voice, spoke.
Octavian would never, could never forget that voice, even if the River Lethe took his memories, took everything that made him Octavian — his soul would recognize that voice. His little brother: Jason Grace.
Octavian spoke up trying to keep his voice from wavering as faced his little brother — facing those pure blue eyes, “It’s no problem. I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be up here either.”
Then, his little brother smiled, pure and bright, and laughed, “Yeah, my boyfriend is never going to let me live this down. He said I needed to watch where I was flying, and I told him that there was literally nothing in the sky. Guess I was wrong.”
Boyfriend?! What, Jason is a baby — he’s only 16 why does he have a boyfriend?!
“Oh, sounds like your boyfriend cares a lot about you,” he better anyways, or Octavian will make sure that the body is never found.
Jason’s entire face lit up, an enormous grin on his lips and his eyes went fond as he spoke, “Yeah, Percy’s the best boyfriend I could ever ask for.”
“Perseus Jackson is your boyfriend?!” Octavian couldn’t help but shriek.
Jason's face instantly closed off, his body tensing, and he asked his tone growing harsher, “Who are you, and how do you know my boyfriend?”
“Anyone who knows a lick of the Greco-Roman Pantheon knows of Percy Jackson,” Octavian spoke, his voice wavering as Jason still glared at him with those blue eyes.
“That doesn’t answer my first question.” Jason said, his voice holding little emotion — the air seeming to tighten its hold around Octavian.
“It’s time,” Thoth’s voice echoes in Octavian’s head.
Octavian shutters, but he sighs in defeat. He knew that he couldn’t avoid this forever, but he thought, he thought he would have to to prepare for their reunion.
“Very well, but can we first land?” Octavian speaks up, and sees that Jason remains unwavering, and so he vows, “I swear on the River Styx that I mean you no harm and will tell you who I am once we land.”
An echoing boom instantly is heard, and Jason’s hold on the air snaps. The two fall through the air, and Octavian instinctively flaps his wings, but Jason is still falling.
“Jason!” Octavian yells and speeds off to his little brother as he hurtles through the sky.
Octavian catches his little brother before he goes splat, and Octavian yells, his voice worried, “Why did you not use your powers?!”
Jason breathed in deeply, his voice a bit panicked, “I was trying, but I couldn’t focus!”
Octavian sighed in relief, as he could feel his little brother once again command the air, and separated from him, “I’m glad that you’re alright.”
Jason gives Octavian an indiscernible look, and nods his head, “Yeah, let’s just land, alright.”
Octavian agrees, and soon enough the two land in some park, the autumn tree leaves falling gently around the two.
“So, you wanted to know who I was,” Octavian spoke up, calling off his avatar form, the beginning of recognition and shock beginning to seep into his little brother’s form, “Well, I’m Octavian Grace …” Neither of his parents deserved to be parents, but at least with his mother’s last name he shared it with his siblings.
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“Brother!” Jason cried, instantly slamming into the older’s body, wrapping him in a hug.
Octavian instinctively hugged back, his shock delaying his reaction — Jason knew, knew that they were brothers.
“How?” Octavian could only ask, still startled as Jason held him tightly crying on his shoulder. And oh, how much Jason has grown to be able to reach his shoulder — he used to barely reach Octavian’s middle.
Jason looked up at Octavian, tears streaming down his face, and sobbed “T-thalia r-remebered y-you, and s-spoke at your f-funera-al.” Jason held onto Octavian tighter, as if he was going to drop dead any minute, “And then A-apollo t-told e-everyone h-how you s-saved us. How you s-sacrificed y-yourself.”
Octavian had no words, no words to describe the complete and utter shock he was in, so all he could do was gape and say, “What?”
Then, Jason gasped, “Thalia.” He grabbed Octavian’s hand, “You need to see her.”
Octavian felt completely overwhelmed, but at the same time he felt a smidgen of hope swell in his chest as Jason led him away. He was going to see his big sister again.
Apparently, Thalia and Jason must have been having a picnic, because there she was on a blanket surrounded by sandwiches and fruits laid out before her. Octavian ignored the other person — the aforementioned boyfriend that was sitting there as well.
She still looked so young, baby fat still clearly on her face, despite the fact that she’s 21, almost 22. She’s eternally 15, never able to grow up, to mature because she’s sworn an oath to Lady Diana.
“Who’s-,” Thalia muttered as she turned to look at Octavian being dragged by Jason, but then her eyes went wide with recognition.
Her eyes were alight, like lightning striking through a storm, as she hurtled herself at Octavian.
“Tavi!” She called out trapping Octavian in a tight embrace.
Octavian held his sister closely, the nickname making him reminisce when his big sister thought Octavian was an old man's name, and he needed a name fit for being her little brother. A time before his father took him away from her.
“You’re alive!” Thalia cried, relief awash in her face. “I never thought I’d see you again Tavi.”
“I’m here.” Octavian murmured and looked over to meet Jason’s eyes and beckoned him over.
Jason didn’t hesitate and was embraced by his two older siblings, his face held in the crook of Octavian’s neck, as the middle sibling bent down to hold the two.
Everything felt right and whole again. His family was alive and well!
Of course, Octavian had to eventually address the elephant in the room.
“So…” Octavian began awkwardly as his siblings pulled back a bit, but never far away enough to not hold onto him — the memories of his death still too fresh, “Perseus Jackson, my little brother’s boyfriend?”
Jason's face went bright red, and he averted his eyes to look at Percy.
Percy hesitantly approached the trio of siblings, standing nearer Jason, and eloquently greeted, “Hello.”
Thalia's face palmed, and spoke, “This is little brother 2.0, also known as our future brother-in-law.”
Percy and Jason both sputtered but didn’t exactly refute her statement.
Octavian just simply observed, a small smirk growing on his face, “Well, nice to meet you brother-in-law.” It feels good to tease his younger brother, after sixteen years, and finally Octavian is free to just interact with him — to finally place his family before duty.
Percy’s face went as red as a tomato, but he smiled and held Jason’s hand tight in his.
“Stop teasing us,” Jason whined, pouting a little bit like a sad puppy.
Percy nodded his head, giving a look that reminded Octavian of a seal pup. These two.
“It’s only our right to tease little brothers,” Thalia smirked, “Tavi got a lot of catching up to do, after all.”
“Indeed.” Octavian agreed.
The two teens whined no’s, but their huge smiles gave them away.
Octavian thought, ‘This must be Elysium.’
It wasn’t perfect, too many distrusted the hero people lauded him to be when he returned to see Camp, and those that shifted their stances gave Octavian whiplash. But Octavian never did what he did for glory or claimed to be a hero — he did it for them, not the world after all. Still, Octavian will take this little piece of Elysium that he’s been granted with his siblings, and make sure every breath they take will never be their last.