[DanMachi/Percy Jackson] Prytaneum

Chapter 5: Forge Fires

It can't be, I thought. It can't actually be Hephaestus. It was probably just some shop named after him—that made sense, after all. From the windows, it was plain to see that this store sold armor and weapons and other stuff a blacksmith would make. Naming their store after the god of Blacksmiths wasn't that weird, though I'm sure some people I know wouldn't appreciate it. But it couldn't be him.

Hephaestus was dead, I was almost certain of it. While I hadn't exactly been able to see most of the final battle, much less make sense of it all, I had been able to look at the thrones of the gods. All of them had suffered damage by the end, whether because Kronos had attacked them directly or because of the damage done to the god they were tied to. Given that, while it was hard to say for sure who had been fighting by the end, I had some idea of who hadn't—and Hephaestus's throne had been a ruin. Kronos must have gone after it early and torn it apart and that couldn't have done anything good to Hephaestus. He was gone.

Wasn't he?

It's not like I actually know much about whatever constitutes divine biology. Kronos had gotten torn into a million pieces and he'd certainly come back, if with some difficulty. Given that, even if Hephaestus had died, would he have been merely dead or really most sincerely dead? It seemed like a fair question, seeing as I wasn't in Kansas anymore.

Still, even knowing that, what were the odds? It had taken Kronos thousands of years and a lot of help to pull himself back together; even if Hephaestus and the others could come back, it'd probably take a while, right? And even if he had, why would he set up shop here of all places? Sure, his name was written on the sign in Ancient Greek, but I knew lots of people that spoke Ancient Greek—monsters, gods, demigods.

All of whom would probably be worth talking to, even if they weren't Hephaestus.

Maybe this was an old place, I considered. The gods had moved around a lot, supposedly, so leaving thing or two behind wasn't out of the question. Or maybe one of the kids from Cabin Nine had set this place up with their father's permission. It could have just been some guy who knew a little Greek and wanted the sign on his store to look fancy, but what if?

Wasn't it worth at least a look?

Having talked myself into it, I nodded to myself and turned to face the door before hesitating. What should I say? I had to keep in mind that I had no idea what was going on, so should I just ask them outright? No, I needed to play this subtly, even though that really wasn't my strongest suit. I mean, what was I going to do, walk in and ask them if they'd named this place after Hephaestus?

XxXXxX​

I entered, trying my best to look self-assured. Play it safe, I told myself, trying my best to smile like my mother always had. She'd always been able to make people think she was a wonderful person with a single glance—probably because she was a wonderful person. Me? People usually just think I'm trouble. Get kicked out of over half a dozen schools, that happens.

Still, I made sure to keep to myself, looking around idly at the various types of armor and weaponry, right until I saw the price tags. I had no idea what kind of currency this place used, but I could count zeroes just fine and that was enough to tell me I couldn't afford it. Instead, I looked around for a salesperson and found one at the counter.

"Can I help you with anything?" The older man asked when he noticed my gaze. At a glance, I estimated him to be in his late thirties or early forties—again, too old to fit my usual demigod profile. But on the other hand, he sort of looked the part as Hephaestus kids went; dark hair, muscular build, tanned skin. He was even wearing that leather apron thing I used to see Beckendorf use and there were several soot stains on his face.

It was enough to make me wonder, but I reminded myself to play it cool. Demigods that drew a lot of attention led hard lives; I was a living testament to that. Best not to assume anything or come off as too suspicious.

"I'm sorry," I apologized, not having to fake as much of my confusion as I would have liked while I looked around. "But, um...I'm new in town so this might be a silly question, but...by Hephaestus, you mean the god Hephaestus, right? On the sign?"

Gods, I was smooth; it's a wonder I never managed to talk my way out of all those expulsions. Still, that should be open ended enough...I hoped. I had no idea what was supposed to count as common knowledge around here, but I really was new, so it's not like I'd need to try hard to look oblivious.

"New to Orario, huh?" The man said with a sigh before glancing me over. I continued to do my best to keep from looking suspicious, but I suspected my torn armor and still somewhat bloodstained clothes might have ruined the image. The man didn't seem to care too much about that, though; he mainly seemed to be sizing me up. "I don't think this is the place for you, kid."

I'd have said something about customer service, but when you ran a store where everything had a price tag with five or more zeroes, I guess you probably didn't need to give a damn what random people off the street thought of you.

But already, this conversation was paying off for me...kind of. He called this place Orario, which was something, at least. I tried to remember if I'd ever heard that name before but came up blank. It wasn't any place I'd ever been to or heard of and if anyone had warned me about it, it obviously hadn't stuck. Still, it was better than nothing and it would let me avoid having to ask what city I was in, which was nice. See? I was learning things already.

Now all I had to do was learn something useful.

"I already have a weapon, actually," I answered, brushing at my somewhat ruined armor self-consciously. "My armor's seen better days, I admit, but...well, I'll think of something. But this store...?"

The man looked me over again and sighed before resting an elbow on the counter and waving towards the store.

"Of course it's the Hephaestus Familia's," He answered, sounding a bit bored. He wasn't telling me to get out though, which I counted as a plus. "Who else would it be?"

Familia...that meant family, right? Then, assuming the name wasn't a coincidence—and I had specified the god Hephaestus—than was this guy actually a demigod? I know I was getting caught up on the age thing, but damn it, if there had a bunch of guys like this around relaxing while we were risking our lives, I was going to be a little upset. My friends had died fighting for Olympus.

But for their sake, I bit my tongue. I still needed to learn more and I knew from experience that acting on assumptions could end really, really badly. I didn't know what was going on, what had happened, or anything else. Play it cool. There'd be time for everything else later.

"What kind of weapon?" The man asked before I could actually think of what to say next. At my glance, he nearly rolled his eyes. "You said you had one. It's not one of ours, is it?"

He was nice enough not to sound suspicious or accusatory, which was nice. Even so, I stared at him for a moment and wondered how I should reply. I wasn't sure if telling him about my weapons of was a good idea...but on the other hand, if he was a demigod, he should recognize Celestial Bronze, if nothing else. I didn't see any in this shop, which, now that I thought about it, made his whole Hephaestus claim a bit doubtful, but...

"I don't know," I said at last, which wasn't entirely true. Riptide had been Zoe's creation, but I could honestly say I had no idea where Annabeth's dagger had come from. Luke had given it, but where he had gotten it from, the gods only knew. "I have a sword and a dagger, though."

The man snorted, but seemed vaguely curious about me. Maybe it was a slow day.

"Let's have a look, then," He seemed to decide. "Since you're new in town, I'll do you a favor and appraise them for you. You head into the Dungeon without a real weapon on you, you ain't coming back."

The Dungeon? That place beneath the tower? Kind of a dull name, but I made note of it anyway.

Hesitating for another moment as I looked at him, I subtly withdrew Riptide's pen from my pocket and uncapped it behind my back. Judging from his raised eyebrow, drawing a sword from thin air didn't seem any less odd, but I didn't owe him any explanations. I'd only chosen to show him Riptide at all because I was sure it'd find its way back to me if he tried anything, and because I wanted to see how much he actually knew. He might even have heard of Riptide's reputation, if he was a demigod.

As I set it down gently on the counter, the man leaned forward to look at it. He hummed once in interest before withdrawing one of those weird looking monocle-magnifying lens things. After a moment, he tapped the blade with a nail, frowned, and then reached below the counter to bring out...I don't know. Blacksmith tools or something. He proceeded to poke and prod Riptide like it was the most interesting thing in the world. He even tried to use something like a file to scrape the edge, though predictably that didn't work.

"What type of metal is this?" He asked at last, staring at it with an unconcealed interest that made me think of Beckendorf and Bronze Dragons. At the same time, however, my hopes dwindled. "At first I thought it might have been bronze but...has it been enchanted? Who made this?"

He didn't recognize Celestial Bronze, I thought as I tried to suppress a sigh. That all but ruled out him being a demigod; given its use against monsters, no trained half-blood—and especially no son of Hephaestus, forty-something years old or no—would fail to recognize it. Sure, he'd been able to see it for what it was and he apparently considered enchantment a viable option, so he obviously wasn't just a normal old guy, but...

"My father gave it to me," I answered truthfully while simultaneously answering nothing. "I don't know where he got it; never really had a chance to ask."

"He was an adventurer?" The man asked while barely seeming to pay attention to me.

I shrugged, not sure what that meant. It seemed to mean something to the man, however, so I figured it probably meant something besides the obvious. Given that...

"Maybe," I replied. "Again, I never really had a chance to ask. He left before I was born."

The man slowly exhaled, sympathy touching his features as his eyes flicked up to me.

"You and your mother?" He guessed.

"Yeah," I said before giving a half-smile. "Pretty common story, eh?"

He nodded a bit sadly, though I figured he didn't catch my meaning. My story was pretty standard for demigods, who's divine parent never stuck around for long. I was lucky, really—better off than anyone else I'd ever heard of thanks to my mom and a dad who, while not usually present, at least cared. Most demigods wouldn't get the time of day from their godly mom or dad, so I didn't have much right to complain, except maybe about what my mother had been forced to endure to protect me. But Gabe had gotten his in the end.

"Seems like I hear it all the time," The Blacksmith said with a sigh. "Never really nice to see it again, though."

"Sorry," I apologized, shrugging again.

"Not your fault," He replied firmly, shaking his head. "You here to follow in his footsteps, then?"

"It's more that I don't really have any place to go," I answered. "My mom..."

I trailed of and didn't have to fake the uncertainty that crossed my face. I had no idea what had happened to my mother, after all.

"Yeah," He muttered, sighing. "Sorry, kid."

"It's my problem," I told him. "But sitting around isn't going to fix it, so...here I am, I guess. I...can't say I know much about this place, though; just the stories my mom used to tell me."

"Myths and stories, eh?" The man mused. "I guess that's why you asked about the name?"

"Yeah," I answered. "I've heard about Hephaestus, the god of blacksmiths, but I've never seen a place like this before."

"If you come from outside the city, you probably wouldn't have," He agreed. "You looking to join a God's Family, then?"

Join? If he was still talking about the gods and stuff, then how did you join their Family? Was it just a spiritual thing, like a...I didn't want to use the word cult, but I'd heard about a few of the god's followers—people like the Oracle and the crazy ladies that had torn apart Orpheus. Both of those made me feel a little wary, but this seemed like a good track to follow.

"Yeah," I said. "I suppose I am? I don't suppose you could...?"

The man blew out a slow breath and worked his jaw.

"I don't really have the authority to do anything like that," He said. "But Lady Hephaestus is a kind woman, if strict. If you told her your story, she'd probably be willing to give you a chance."

I nodded slowly until my brain caught up with his words.

Did he just say Lady Hephaestus? I mean, I guess it was possible; the gods could really be whatever they wanted and changing genders wasn't nearly the weirdest thing they could get up to with that ability—I tried to avoid thinking about my family tree. Which was really more of a family forest. Made of twisted, screaming trees.

But still, I tried to imagine a female Hephaestus.

...I don't know if I'm ready for that. I could feel my brain fraying at the edges just trying to imagine it.

Still, Hephaestus was pretty cool as gods went—which is to say he had never done anything especially horrible to me and had been occasionally helpful. I couldn't really blame him for the Bianca thing, either. Talking to him...her might be a good way to get answers, as long as I was careful not to blow up any volcanoes.

But if I had a choice...

"Blacksmithing was always more my brother's thing," I replied before hesitating again to consider it. Since he was offering up so much information, there might be a chance and, if so, it was worth taking. More than that...I just had to know. "Actually, is there any chance you could tell me where...Poseidon's Familia is?"

At once, the man's gaze lifted to mine, his expression suddenly tight and searching. For a moment, he was silent and I worried that I'd said the wrong thing. I didn't go for my knife or anything, but I tensed and prepared for a sudden attack; thankfully, Riptide was still in easy reach.

"Poseidon..." The older man rumbled, squinting at me harshly. "Now there's a name I haven't heard in a while. Why do you want to know?"

I licked my lips, trying to decide what to say. Should I back out now that I knew it was a touchy subject, or press forward.

Screw it. This was my dad we were talking about.

"My mother said I belonged to Poseidon's Family," I answered carefully, trying to think it through. "Like I said, I never really knew my father; he left before I was born and if I ever saw him again, I don't remember. But...my mother said he was one of Poseidon's."

The blacksmith continued to watch me silently after I finished speaking, as if weighing my words and judging them—until at last, he heaved a long sigh.

"How old are you, boy?" The man asked tiredly.

I blinked at him before replying. It wasn't that I didn't think it was an important question—my birthday had been a big deal in a bad way—but why was he asking? Did he know? Would he try to do something about it if he found out I was the target of the prophecy? But if he was with Hephaestus...

"I just turned sixteen today," I answered.

The man closed his eyes and shook his head.

"Sixteen," He repeated with another sigh. "Makes sense, but...I'm sorry, kid—looks like I'm gonna be the bearer of bad news. Poseidon's Familia was wiped out fifteen years ago."

I felt my eyes widen.

"What?" I asked, very nearly staggering. What was he saying? I wasn't even sure where to begin dealing with that sentence. My father had had a Familia? But it had been destroyed. By Kronos? But if so...fifteen years ago?

I felt the last traces of my surety—about anything—crumble and fall away. That...if he was right, if he was telling the truth, then that changed everything. If I hadn't just died and woken up, then maybe some of this might have made sense? All this stuff I didn't know or understand could have been—

No. That was only if he was right.

"Wiped out," I repeated, getting control over myself and taking deep, steady breathes. "How? By who?"

"I don't know any more than that, kid," The man answered with a sad shake of his head. "I was just a kid back then, like you. All I know is that something big happened back then—big enough to destroy some of the biggest Familia's at the time. Zeus, Hera, Poseidon..."

No. I couldn't be. But maybe—no.

I put my hands on the counter, bowing over it.

Could I really be...?

"I'm sorry," The man said again, voice quieter. "For being the bearer of bad news. You must have come a long way just to hear this."

"No," I replied after a moment, shaking my head without looking up. "Thank you, sir. I'm sorry. It's just that..."

"The names Wayland, kid," The man said gently. "There's limits to what I can do, but if you need some help...that offer's still open. Hephaestus would understand."

"Yeah," I replied nodding numbly. "Thank you."

"Is there anything I can do for you, son?" He asked.

I took another deep breath and knew my thoughts were a mess. There was probably more I should ask, but gods, nothing much was springing to mind. All I could think about was this messed up situation I'd found myself in; if anything, I was even more confused than when I started. And knowing my dad was gone...what was I going to do? Should I accept his offer and talk to Hephaestus. Maybe he or she would have some answers for me, but right now...

"To join a Familia, you have to meet with its god, right?" I made myself ask.

"Yeah, kid," Wayland replied. "Only a god can give you their Grace, after all."

I had no idea what that meant, but I didn't care. But if it was true and if my father was gone, who else could I go to for help? Zeus was gone, but I wouldn't have asked him even if he wasn't. Hera, same. Hades might be able to help me, but might also have been bitter about the beat down thing, assuming he hadn't been taken out, too. If Ares was around...well, that wasn't happening in a million billion years. Athena had hated me even before I got her daughter killed. Hermes had been exceptionally unhelpful the last time we'd met. Aphrodite...who knows what she'd want or do. Mr. D...no. Artemis, maybe, if I could find her. Apollo maybe, assuming the same. Demeter could depend on the season for all I knew; she'd certainly been cold enough last time we met.

Not for the first time, I was reminded that there really weren't a lot of gods you could rely on in a pinch. If my father was out of the picture, I didn't really have a lot of options left.

Except maybe one. Thinking about it, I might know one god who could help me and might actually be willing to. And who better to help me find my way home? She'd flat-out teleported me back there last time, after all.

"Then..." I asked, lifting my gaze to look back at the smith. "Have you ever heard of a goddess named Hestia?"