The End of an Olympian

24 | Lord Confectorus

There were only four more days until I'd challenge Zeus. Luckily, he made no move against me or Camp Half-Blood since the last time. But on day 4, three days until I'd challenge Zeus, our luck ran out.

1010 words

Percy

I got an Iris Message from Camp Jupiter that a storm was brewing and was getting too close for comfort. Undoubtedly, Jupiter was angry that the camp named after him did not support him in this war. He was planning on exacting his revenge, but I would not allow it.

I quickly flashed over, but I was in my Confectorus persona and aged up to 30. In other words, my face was frightening to look at with the hard stare I was giving the clouds. Not to mention my squared shoulders and the air of a serious soldier around me.

"Lord Confectorus," I heard a legionnaire call out nervously.

I turned to look at him, but I forgot the glare was still on my face. Naturally, he fell upon himself to kneel quickly and begged for forgiveness for whatever he thought I thought he did wrong.

"I'm sorry, Lord Confectorus! I didn't mean to anger you!" he yelled above the loud thunder with a shaky voice.

I let my countenance return to its stern, yet more approachable look as I walked over to the boy.

"You did nothing wrong, child. I'm just angry at Jupiter for his foolish actions."

As soon as I said that, thunder cracked on cue. Suddenly, heavy rain overtook the legion as sheets of it pelted the army to the ground. Lightning struck the main buildings and went wild around the Field of Mars.

"Go!" I shouted to the boy on the ground. "Get to shelter! Take others with you!"

Thankfully, the kid listened and got his whole cohort to follow him into their barracks. But things would get much worse if the storm continued. I couldn't help the lightning, but I could do something about the rain.

It took much concentration as I fought for command over the storm—the water molecules making up the storm to be specific. At some points, I thought I was making things worse. The winds picked up, the deluge grew as the rain slanted sideways, and the clouds somehow became darker and even more menacing.

With a loud scream, my power won over Jupiter's and I took control of the rainstorm. I dispersed the water molecules in the clouds and let it settle into a drizzle that stretched over a larger area rather than a heavily concentrated downpour over New Rome. I guess you could say day 4 was dedicated to training my powers.

A few hours later, all the rain stopped and we took stock of the damage done to Camp Jupiter. As per usual, my Roman form was not as active as my Greek form, but more so than the other Roman gods—save Terminus, of course—so a number of the newer recruits stared up at me with a confusing array of emotion. I sensed awe and fear and relief and dread and so forth. I can't say I blame them. I, for one, would've been scared out of my wits if in their position.

I was with the current praetors, Mack de la Fuente and Taylor Jacobs, as they directed clean up. I didn't say much or do much other than turning large debris into water or evaporating hazardous puddles. Unlike Camp Half-Blood, the Romans avoided me and bowed as they passed if they didn't have their hands full. A few Centurions had the courage to gave me reports of the past few weeks. Monster attacks had increased, but not to an alarming degree.

Camp's support for me was unanimous in the senate after weeks of debate. Eventually, they decided to use this war to make up for the crimes of their ancestors. To prove that New Rome would not accept slavery like Ancient Rome did. However, that decision was more controversial amongst the rest of the legion. The legionaries feared Jupiter and Mars. They thought true Romans should devoutly listen to them. I got lucky that the new wave of leadership had already been focusing on improving New Rome's outdated policies. More community service and less death via sack of weasels. Still, the legion followed the will of the senate.

The citizens had the luxury (or burden) of staying out of it. They did what the legion did or else they'd lose its protection entirely. It was good to hear they supported my morals and justification for this war over the camp's patron. It would have made for a very awkward visit without their understanding.

"Lord Confectorus," Mack said to grab my attention. "Will you stay?" His timbre was sheltering his desperation. I knew he was scared of Jupiter's wrath and uncertain how to handle the situation. But I could not stay.

"Unfortunately not, but this will be resolved soon. In three days, I will challenge for the throne. And I expect to win."

I knew Mack had doubts, but I doubted he would share those with me. The Romans have always been more fearful, or respectful depending on who you ask, of their gods. But if he were to share his doubts, I wouldn't fault him for it. In fact, I had many doubts of my own.

"Where will the battle take place?" Taylor asked. The unspoken question being if the legion would have to fight.

"It will be on Olympus. I do not want to get the demigods involved. And my people do not deserve to die just so they can be free. The fault in their enslavement is partially on me, so I must face the Mr. Loud Mouth myself. I will attempt to correct my wrongdoings."

The two praetors didn't say more, but I saw the relief wash over them when they heard they would not be fighting against Jupiter.

Without much else to do at Camp Jupiter, a name I think should change after I dethrone the bastard, I flashed back by to my palace. It was getting late and I only had three more days to prepare for what would be the hardest duel of my life. Regardless, I aimed to win and wouldn't accept anything less.