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Tripping on some small rocks scattered on the ground, Percy stumbled while he ran as fast as he could, away from the hellhound chasing him. Dirt and gravel scraped the soles of his feet. Panting, he came to a stop, looking for some place to hide. The hellhound never stayed dead for long, and Percy would need a place to hide after killing it, in case it returned. Scanning his surroundings, he saw a cave nearby. It was dark and dry, with little sunlight entering it. He would have missed it if he wasn’t specifically searching for such a place.
The loud thuds from behind told him that the hellhound had finally caught up with him. Turning around, he uncapped Riptide, his lethal ballpoint pen and part time sword.
The celestial bronze blade gleamed in the late afternoon sun’s fractured light that shone from in between the leafy canopy above. It was easy to defeat the monster– Lupa had trained him well, and whichever patient soul had before…
Before. He hadn’t remembered anything from before. Not even his own name, which the wolf goddess had told him- Perseus Jackson, son of Neptune. There was only one thing that he found upon scouring the depths of his mind, hidden somewhere in his subconsciousness, where the rest of his memories were hidden.
Laughter rang through the memory. A girl’s laughter, probably at him. She pulled him close and kissed him softly on the lips, her blond hair shining. She must have kissed him a lot for him to remember it so vividly. Her stormy gray eyes were more comforting than the safety of the Wolf House, more reassuring than the stream of water that could be heard nearby, more rejuvenating than the strength that water would give him. Those eyes felt more like home than anything ever could.
Annabeth. That was her name, wasn’t it? He could hear himself calling her in his memory, like the ghost of an echo long forgotten.
Sweat trickled down Percy's forehead. He staggered into the cave, pushing behind the large leaves that hid the entrance as he did so. He collapsed onto the ground, the earth beneath him scattered with pebbles and something weird in a corner that he tried his best to ignore.
He ran his fingers through the soil, picking some up and closing his hand in a fist before throwing it across the cave. He didn’t know where his anger was coming from. Perhaps it was at the hellhound and whatever other monsters he had faced. Perhaps it was at the gods or his amnesia. Maybe he was mad at himself for not remembering her, for being here instead of home, wherever that was.
He let the darkness beneath his eyelids consume him as he passed out.
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
Perseus Jackson.
Pawn of the gods, yet again.
The voice rolled in his mind, rattling his senses. He couldn’t see anything, couldn’t sense where he was.
For what purpose do you do their bidding?
What do they owe you?
Percy looked around frantically. The darkness was fading, but what came into view wasn’t any more better than the inky surroundings they replaced.
Why?
Why do you help the gods, again and again, for them to never acknowledge you?
Leave the Olympians behind.
Be a pawn no longer.
He could see the cave, but there was something wrong, so horribly wrong. In the rocky walls of the cavern a woman’s face could be seen, her earthen visage hidden in the shadows as she slept. Her lips curved into a smile as she spoke, her words reverberating in the soil, in the cave, in his mind; drowning out any other rational thought until it was all he could think of, all that he could hear.
Join me.
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
Another night, another nightmare.
Percy thought he would be used to it by now. Nightmares were common demigod problems. And yet, each night, he fell into a fitful sleep only to wake hours later in a cold sweat, shivering no matter how warm it might be. The earthen woman haunted his sleep, while monsters hunted him when awake. He was tired. He didn’t want to hear Gaia’s voice echoing in every moment of silence. Why do this? She would ask. He didn’t want to see her ghostly face every time he closed his eyes, yet her creepy smile refused to let him go.
But what terrified him even more was how he found himself listening to Gaia, agreeing with her- for what had the gods done for him? Why should he do their tasks, over, and over, and over again, just for them to show no gratitude? Here he was, fighting monsters with no memory of his past. If he had helped the gods in the past (and he was sure he had), why did they not help him now? The seeds of anger and bitterness were already planted in his mind; Gaia had just watered them.
Percy panted slightly. He was near the San Pablo Bay, and the water would be all he needed to energize him. Tiredness took over him, however, and instead of finding water, Percy found a bench and despite himself, fell asleep.
His subconscious was filled with the same things as it always was when he slept- the haunting voice of Gaia.
Look at you, Percy Jackson.
Where are the gods now?
Leave them, as they have left you now.
Why do you do this?
And when he woke, the same question echoed through his mind, washing over him like the gentle waves in the bay, except the words were the opposite of gentle- they were harsh and heavy, drowning him in his thoughts.
Why do this?
He didn’t want to.
He didn’t want to fight a battle he wasn’t a part of- a battle he didn’t start. This was the gods’ fight, not his.
Why?
Why?
Why should he follow the path given to him by the Olympians? All he had to do was walk away, and he could leave this miserable world of pain, of suffering. What did this world have for him anyway?
And in this moment of despair, he found himself answering- Annabeth. He would continue for her. He might have nearly no memory of her, but just the thought of her made him get up. He would fight, for the gods, for the world, for her. For her laughter that he heard so clearly in his mind, for her brilliant smile that he remembered clearly as the water of the sparkling oceans, for the comfort that she gave him even when in a distant memory, across an unknown distance.
He would find that place his instincts were leading him to. He would slaughter every monster in his path, take any and every step needed. He would even kill Gaia if he had to. All for Annabeth. She was the only thing keeping him from turning away, from giving up.
Percy Jackson would go on, for her.