Chapter Text
I know what you’re thinking.
But Apollo, you’re the god of prophecy! How could you hate your own domain?
Well, dear reader. Truth be told, I’ve always disliked prophecies. I loved my Pythias over the years, and my Oracles are very dear to me, but prophecies themselves? HAH! No thanks. I think I’ll pass.
Prophetic power was one I could have gone without just fine. Even before I was born, snapshots of the future constantly plagued my mind. Paris shooting down Achilles. Alexander the Great’s reign. Joan of Arc’s death. Vincent Van Gogh. Boy, was it confusing when I saw Sombr for the first time.
Anyways, most of those snapshots had been tragedies—which isn’t all that surprising. The Greeks invented tragedy. But it’s safe to say that I had no love for prophecy. Especially not after the whole Python ordeal.
It had been three years since my trials as Lester Papadoupolos. Meg’s fifteenth birthday was coming up soon, and Lityerses had turned “twenty” last week. Georgina had hit the double-digits last month (No, I did not tear up—shut up, Meg). Percy and Annabeth would be finishing their final year of college soon, and Will and Nico would be starting their first. Everything was peaceful.
So imagine my surprise when my beloved Oracle of Delphi possessed me in front of the entire council.
Mind you, I was minding my business, completely disregarding anything happening in this year’s summer solstice meeting. Why Zeus demanded a meeting every solstice, I had no idea. Maybe it was just to annoy us all, or maybe it was just an excuse to bring up some petty argument. The latter seemed more likely, especially considering the amount of times my father had gotten into fights with Uncle Poseidon about things like flying fish being an intrusion of his domain, or who Rhea loved more. It was exhausting, and I wasn’t even the one arguing!
Anyways, I was zoning out, when suddenly a piece of their argument caught my attention.
“—son is not a threat to Olympus!”
I turned my focus to Poseidon. What?
“He’s growing too powerful!” Zeus shot back. “He needs to be contained.”
“No, he doesn’t!” Poseidon snapped. “ You’re just trying to get rid of him because you’re still mad about him rejecting your offer of immortality.”
The King’s eyes flashed furiously.
What in Tartarus? Was he seriously so paranoid that he would kill Percy? I felt something splinter inside my chest at the concept of it. Absolutely not.
“My lord,” I intervened before I could think better of it, “if I may?”
The King’s jaw clenched, but he gestured for me to continue.
Poseidon’s head snapped towards me, surprise and wariness knitted together in his expression. Artemis regarded me much in the same way, as if she didn’t trust me to make a smart decision.
Thanks for the vote of confidence, Sis.
“Percy Jackson has done nothing but fight for Olympus, for the gods, for you. He has more than proven his loyalty—it is quite literally his fatal flaw. To kill him now would be…” I almost said stupid, but I caught myself (take that, Artemis!). “Unwise.”
Hera visibly flinched, and multiple members of the council stared at me with a mix of pity and sadness.
I frowned. I got the impression that they’d somehow heard those words before, though I couldn’t possibly imagine where or when.
The King’s scowl deepened. “You would call me unwise? In front of the council of the gods, no less?”
I shifted on my feet, trying to swallow down the bile rising in the back of my throat as the smell of ozone kicked in, the distant rumble of thunder rolling somewhere off in Olympus. “I only meant—Percy is a good kid. He wouldn’t try anything stupid, especially not against you, my lord. He’s almost finished college with his girlfriend; please just let him be.”
“You would call me unwise,” the King repeated.
“My lord—“
I was shocked into cutting myself off mid-sentence when the King’s hand went to his Bolt, followed by a very noticeable flinch. The Master Bolt. The star of all my worst nightmares, barring Python.
Zeus’s brow furrowed. “My son. I have tried so hard to show you how merciful I am. You know I never want to hurt you.”
My brain faltered, my tongue going numb in my mouth.
My father’s expression only grew sadder, making my gut twist uncomfortably. “I still feel horrible about having to turn you mortal last time. But you know you deserved it, right? It was only to help you see. See that I was trying to help you.”
“I-I know,” I choked out.
“And yet you still…” he shook his head. “Why must you antagonize me?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Hades rear his head back as if he’d just been slapped. Poseidon made a strangled noise.
My stomach continued to feel like a dumpster fire. It was only when I felt my mouth open against my will and green smoke started pouring out from between my lips that I realized it wasn’t only because I’d managed to diappoint my father yet again.
A prophecy.
No. No no no no nonononononononono—
My vision turned a murky, swamp green. I sat up straight in my throne, my posture turning unnaturally stiff.
A quest made like none before,
the rules of Fate twisted for four.
Half god, half mortal—
the heroes descend
to reach the prophecy’s end.
Together only may they prevail;
the Sun, the Sea, the Moon, the Thief,
with Flame, Imperial, Cursed, and Legacy;
by dawn of post-solstice must set sail.
I tilted forward and probably would have hit the floor if Hermes hadn’t caught me.
My breath smelt like snakeskin. I felt sick—which shouldn’t be possible because gods didn’t get sick, unless we inflicted sickness on each other. Which nobody had done as of then.
Mostly, my mind was reeling from that prophecy. It held the weight of major importance, but it made no sense—poetically or otherwise.
To reach the prophecy’s end, but there was no “end”. Well, there was, but the final line described the beginning of a quest, not the finishing of one. Which had no logic whatsoever, unless…
Unless it was like my trials, where there were multiple prophecies that needed to be found and fulfilled. And that meant this was just the introduction. Wonderful.
I risked a glance up at my father, half expecting the Bolt to strike me right then and there. Instead, I was met with blue eyes widened with just a flicker of fear before the expression schooled.
“A prophecy.” Demeter looked dumbfounded. “When was the last time a prophecy was spoken by Apollo himself?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Zeus dismissed. “This probably won’t be of importance until another century has passed.”
Hades dragged a hand across his face. “Brother,” he said, his tone cold and condescending, “I don’t believe this prophecy is meant for the future. The last line said ‘by dawn of post-solstice’ the questers must set sail. Wouldn’t that mean the quest is to begin by dawn tomorrow?”
I felt the ichor drain from my face when my powers rang my uncle’s words as True. I’d been hoping dawn of post-solstice might be referring to a far-off future solstice, or at the very least the winter one.
“It’s true,” I mumbled miserably.
Athena seemed way too unbothered by this revelation. “Then we should discuss the rest of the prophecy, don’t you think? Perhaps then we might come up with a name for it. I would rather not go around calling it ‘the prophecy’ the entire time.”
All eyes turned to Zeus. He blew out an exhausted breath, as if somehow he would be the one on the quest. “Fine. As you were.”
Hermes bit his lip as he helped me back into my throne, looking paler than usual. “Okay…so. The first line—does that mean four questers?”
Dionysus rolled her eyes. “No, idiot. There are eight questers: The Sun, the Sea, the Moon, and the Thief, and then there’s the Flame, Imperial, the Cursed, and Legacy. The rules of Fate are twisted for half of them.”
“Apollo?” Zeus asked me.
I nodded slowly, feeling my domain of Truth. “That’s correct.”
“Alright,” Poseidon said, scratching his beard. He also looked pale. “So these eight half-bloods—“
“No,” I said suddenly, the weight of the lie blaring in my head.
He blinked. “Pardon?”
I chewed my lip. “That’s not…correct. It’s not eight half-bloods.”
Ares laughed, but it sounded weak even to me. “What are you talking about? Who else would be on a quest if not demigods?”
Athena’s eyes brightened.
Well shit.
“The third line of the prophecy,” she began, getting worked up. “‘Half god, half mortal—“ I don’t think Delphi would waste her time specifying that. I mean, it’s always demigods on a quest, why would she need to rephrase it? That’s why I don’t think she meant demigods at all. I think she meant half of the questers are gods, and the other four are demigods.”
Silence.
“Athena,” Zeus started, but my half-sister beat him to it.
“This has never happened before, I know. But that’s where the first two lines of the prophecy would come in. ‘A quest made like none before, the rules of Fate twisted for four.’ The four that the rules would be bent for would be the gods, since gods aren’t supposed to go on quests at all.” She looked at me for confirmation of her words.
I was horrified to find that her theory was, in fact, correct. I swallowed but nodded, causing multiple gods to pale significantly.
She nodded. “That’s what I thought. Only together may they prevail, so that probably means you have to work with the demigods to finish the quest. And I think it’s pretty obvious who the gods are.”
Ares suddenly seemed very amused. “Really? I would’ve never guessed.”
Athena snorted.
“The Sun,” I said numbly, my fingers clutching at the denim of my jeans. “That’s me. The Sea…” I cringed as I looked up at Poseidon.
The Sea God looked uncomfortable, but not surprised.
“And I’m the Moon,” Artemis stated, the most unbothered out of all of them. “The Thief is obviously Hermes.”
Hermes winced as my twin said his name, but he, too, seemed unsurprised.
Demeter huffed. “It’s kind of obvious when Apollo stared at each of them in turn when he said the prophecy. Speaking of which—what are we calling it?”
I had done what? Before I could voice my thoughts aloud, Hera cut me off.
“Maybe we should figure out the rest of the questers before we give it a name.”
They thought for a moment, and for the first time in the entirety of Olympus’s existence, the throne room was completely and utterly quiet.
Then it came to me. I immediately felt my stomach sink at the thought of bringing him into this, but I had no choice. “I know who the Flame is.”
Everyone turned their faces to me, and I shifted, feeling like ants were crawling all over me.
I looked Hephaestus dead in the eye. “We need to find Leo Valdez.”