I didn't so much wake us as I was dragged against my will back into the lands of the living and I made my displeasure well known with more groaning then the average zombie movie. When I finally opened my eyes, I wasn't sure why I'd bothered. I didn't want to be awake. Waking up sucked. And when I remembered that fundamental truth, I tried to follow it to its natural conclusion, close my eyes, and go back to bed.
But I couldn't. I came to that realization rather sullenly after lying on the couch for who knows how long, to no avail. I tried my best, fought the good fight, but eventually I had no choice but to accept the truth—it was time to wake up.
Damn it.
I opened my eyes for real this time and was confused until I remembered I was living in Hestia's house now. I stood up, looked around, blinked a lot, and eventually remembered where the bathroom was, at which point I went to take a very brief shower. The touch of water cleared my head and by the time I was done, I felt ready to face the day with energy, if not enthusiasm. I dressed myself in the same clothes I'd slept in, having ditched the stuff I'd fought when I got back to the surface. My new clothes were plain, cheap, and functional, which I guess was all I really needed. It was still a bit sad to think about, though; I'd lost my armor and Camp shirt to Mrs. O'Leary's teeth within minutes of waking up and my pants had only lasted a couple of days. I'd already had to ditch just about everything I'd woken up with, aside from Riptide and Annabeth's dagger.
But then, I guess those were the only things that really mattered. I'd manage.
"Hestia?" I called, raising my voice as I left the shower. "Are you still here?"
There was no reply so I went to check the time—which, in our case, meant checking the position of the sun in the sky. It was already sometime in the afternoon, which wasn't all that surprise given that the sun had been rising when I finally got home. Two o'clock, maybe? Hestia wasn't home yet so it probably wasn't too late.
I checked the couch and noticed a plate on the table with, uh...food stuff on it. That wasn't a shot at Hestia's cooking, I just had no idea what any of it was. They kind of looked like hash browns, but not. There was a letter from Hestia beside the plate that was probably full of kind, heart-warming words, but hopefully wasn't anything important, because I couldn't read it. The food was cold, but I didn't know how to reheat it with the...whatever we had, so I ate it anyway, washed it down with a glass of water, and sat on the couch for a little bit. I didn't want Hestia to worry, so a part of me thought I should probably just wait around but I actually didn't know when she'd be home and the rest of me was already getting bored.
For a moment, I just mulled over my optioned. I didn't really want to go back to the Dungeon this late—or, at least, I knew I probably shouldn't. Part of that was because I knew that if I started doing this, fighting all day and all night, I'd ruin my whole schedule, run myself ragged, and worry Hestia constantly. Mrs. O'Leary hadn't looked like she'd been hurt, but she definitely deserved a break after that fight and I could use some time to prepare myself.
Also, it was kind of a pain in the ass; all the magic stones and 'drops' I'd gotten were on the floor in their bags, because by the time I'd gotten home, nothing had been open. Fighting at night had its own advantages, of course, such as a lower chance of innocent people getting caught up in my general anarchy, but it caused problems, too. I'd had to wait until normal people were awake before I could do anything like exchange my spoils or buy supplies, which meant I needed to do that now. I had some other stuff I needed to look for too, like my armor. And I still needed to check with Hestia before going back anyway, to make sure she knew I was okay.
I sighed.
"Errands it is, then," I mused as I stood. I got my bags in order and left the Church, orienting myself after I reached the street. Let's see...Babel that way, West Main that way, so North-West Main was over there. I started heading towards the Guild Headquarters before hesitating. Eina was probably there, which was a good thing and a bad thing. It was a good thing because Eina was nice and smart and helpful. She was probably my best source of information about the Dungeon at the moment and if I told her about the problems I was having on the seventh floor, odds were she'd be able to help me figure out a solution.
On the other hand, telling her my problems would require telling her what I'd done and getting scolded just takes so much time. Honestly, she probably had the right to be angry at me after the mess I'd gotten into, but there was a lot of stuff I needed to do today and I should probably finish up some of it before upsetting Eina again. Maybe pick up something to apologize with, too.
Where else did I need to go?
I turned and frowned for a minute, trying to remember the directions Hestia had given me. Down this street, take a right, a left, and then...was this it? There was a sign above the door, but that was useless to me, so I just entered instead.
"Oh, a customer?" The man behind the counter said, sounding oddly surprised. Even so, he smiled at me kind, tilting his head. "How can I help you today?"
I paused for a moment to look at the man, feeling a little surprised myself. The moment I laid eyes on him, I had the same feeling I'd had when I met Hestia and knew with certainty that this man was a god, so it was a little odd seeing him behind the counter. He was tall—as in, taller than I was, if only by an inch or two. That may have been a bit of an odd thing to focus on, but I hadn't met a lot of people I could say that about since coming to Orario. Height varied a lot, especially with so many different races, but most people were at least half a foot shorter than me and often less. Beyond that, he had blue hair, blue eyes, and managed to look the part of a god even in a dull brown robe.
"Are you...Miach, by any chance?" I asked after a moment.
"I am, yes," He said with a nod, brows furrowing slightly. "This is my Familia's Blue Pharmacy. Are you lost?"
"Generally, yeah," I replied. "But this is actually where I wanted to be. My name's Percy Jackson; Lady Hestia told me to stop by...?"
"Oh!" Miach said, suddenly beaming. "That's right, she told me she'd found a child. Please, come in—make yourself at home. Just give me a moment, I have a gift for you."
I blinked at him a few times but entered.
"A gift for me?" I asked. "Why?"
"You're a new adventurer, aren't you?" He asked, hardly looking at me as he rummaged for something underneath the counter. "Adventuring is dangerous work—Hestia was worried about you, you know? And there's no reason not to help a friend. And since we're both from poor Familias, we should look out for one another, right?"
"Right," I said, for lack of anything better. I was honestly caught a little flatfooted by the idea of a helpful god.
"Here," He said at last, handing me two vials of dark blue liquid. "Two potions, on the house. Please stop by whenever you need something, okay?"
"Thanks," I said before remembering why I was here. "Actually, about that—do you sell anything that can help deal with poison?"
He blinked at me slowly, frowning a bit.
"Antidotes?" He asked. "Certainly. But there shouldn't be anything poisonous on the uppermost floors, if you're worried about that."
I considered him for a moment before shrugging to myself. He seemed nice enough and beggars couldn't be choosers besides. I decided to trust him now and think up an excuse later.
"It's these," I said, shrugging off my backpack and opening it. While I'd used it to carry around some extra bags for magic stones and such, I'd used the backpack itself to carry the 'drops' that monsters occasionally left behind after their magic stones were gone. It was a relatively rare thing according to Eina, but when you got attacked by an army of monsters, relatively rare didn't mean a lot. I wasn't sure if or how it was related to the spoils the monsters I knew sometimes left behind, but I knew I could sell them for money and took to picking them up. As such, my backpack was full of the damn things.
"These are...Purple Moth Wings," He said, sounding surprised. "Killer Ant Mandibles, Needle Rabbit Horns, even Blue Papillion Wings. And...quite a few of them, at that. These are all from monsters found on the seventh floor. How did you...?"
"I went down there and ran into some trouble," I admitted with a shrug. "The Purple Moths were the real problem because they kept swarming me. Everything else was easy enough to deal with but they caused me a lot of trouble, so I'm looking for something to deal with them."
Miach continued to start at the contents of my backpack, eyebrows drawing closer and closer together.
"I can make an antidote to Purple Moth poison easily enough, but..." Miach trailed off, frowning either at me or too himself. "Does Hestia know about this? That you've been going down to the seventh floor?"
I nodded.
"I've told her what I've been doing," I said. "You can ask her, if you want. Do me a favor and try not to spread it around though? I don't think Hestia wants word to get out yet."
"I suppose she wouldn't," Miach murmured to himself. "Are you sure you'll be okay?"
"Pretty sure," I said. "I'm not fighting alone, after all."
He seemed to relax slightly at that, though he might have had a different reaction if he knew about Mrs. O'Leary. I didn't correct him though.
"That's good, at least," He said. "But to bring a new adventurer down to the seventh floor...I don't mean to sound suspicious, but be careful Percy. It's sad to admit it, but some adventurers will resort to using others as bait or even sacrifice them for their goals. They don't understand the value of trust or friendship."
"I do," I said. "And luckily, I have pretty good luck making friend, all told. This one...I can trust her with my life. But I admit, I'd feel a little better going down there if I had some way of dealing with all that poison—I don't want to slow things down because I'm not strong enough to get the job done."
Miach nodded, expression turning serious.
"I understand," He said. "Just remember to be careful—however you may feel, if they're your friends, they wouldn't want you to endanger yourself and go too far. And Hestia especially..."
"I already told her I wouldn't leave her alone," I told him. "I owe her a lot. And besides...we're family."
"Then I have no complaints," Miach said. "If you'd like, we have some general antidotes in stock that you can buy, or if you'd like, I could make some antidotes from one of these Wings, free of change. You can pick it up tomorrow, if you'd like."
"Why not both?" I asked, reaching down to one of the many bags clipped at my waist—the only one with actual money in it, at least for the time being. "How much is an antidote?"
"For you?" Miach asked. "How about...five hundred valis."
I nodded and opened the bag, looking out to count them out.
"I'll take ten," I said, putting the money on the counter. "Being poisoned is really annoying."
Miach blinked again but nodded slowly.
"Ten antidotes, then," He said. "As for the Wings—"
"Take 'em," I said, shrugging. "I was just going to sell them, anyway. If you can make something out of them, better to just give them to you. You can use them to make potions and stuff, right? You can have them all if you promise to make a few for me."
Miach coughed quickly and shook his head.
"Percy," He said seriously. "Since you're a new adventurer, I should warn you—I don't think you know what you're saying. You have...ten Purple Moth Wings here? Twelve? It could vary depending on their condition, but that's worth at least ten thousand valis. Then you have the Blue Papillion Wings—those are rare and useful for their healing properties; with five of them, that may well be another ten thousand. Leaving aside everything else, they're worth quite a bit more than a few potions and antidotes. I can't accept that."
"What happened for looking out for one another?" I asked, shrugging slightly. "Don't worry about it; stuff like this isn't a big deal. I'll make plenty of money off the other stuff. It's just me and Hestia, so we should be fine—and like you said, it never hurts to help out a friend. I'm sure Hestia would think so as well; I can always get more stuff like this, but your Familia needs some help too, right? And I'll be counting on you from now on, anyway. Isn't it better if the guy making me potions actually has ingredients?"
Miach was silent for a long moment, seeming to debate the matter with himself before making a sad face, as if remembering something painful.
"Then...I'll help myself?"
"Mm," I said, watching him take out the Purple Moth Wings and, after a look I returned with a nod, the Blue Papillion Wings.
"I'll try to get these done as soon as possible," He said. "Come back in the morning and I'll have some ready for you. Do you need anything else, Percy?"
I started to shake my head before pausing and looking at Miach closely. He seemed nice and given how he looked...maybe...
Hm.
"Actually, do you know a good way to make an apology?" I said.
"An apology?" He asked, confused.
"To a girl who's mad," I clarified before pausing and shaking my mad. "Who's going to be mad, rather. Do you know any place to like...get sweets or something?"
Miach blinked at me again and then looked left and right, as if making sure the coast was clear. Finally, he looked straight at me and gestured me closer.
YOU ARE READING
[DanMachi/Percy Jackson] Prytaneum
FanfictionSummary: At the end of the Second Titanomachy, Percy found Hope to be in short supply. With Kronos unstopped, his friends dead or dying, and the gods falling one by one, it was hard to believe they still had a chance. But when Hestia sacrifices hers...