Percy Jackson: The Light Bringer

Insanity And Death

  A really huge thanks to ChildOfPertemis for helping me write this chapter. The fight scenes could not have been nearly as good without the valuable help that I got. 

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      "I May Not Have Gone Where I Intended To Go, But I Think I Have Ended Up Where I Needed To Be"                              

       -Douglas Adams

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   While we follow our hero's tale, it is often easy to forget those that aid him. Andromeda, for one, had no small part to play in the chain of events.

   For most of her life, her purpose was unknown to her. But now, as she faced the doors of the bottomless pit, it was all too clear for her.

   Despite this, she couldn't suppress the worries that plagued her. She was worried about more things than she'd to admit. Her safety, her family, her future, and the result if she failed. All these things worried her.

   But most of all, she was worried about Percy.

   She had been worried about him ever since they first met. He was not like the other people she had known. Even by demigod standards, he was different.

   There was something unique about him.

   The more stories she heard about him, the more puzzling he became to her; The Saviour of Olympus, The Slayer of Medusa, the One-Who-held-The-Sky. All these titles fascinated her.

   Here she was now, tasked with protecting humanity. The pedestal of the door was warm against her touch. The doors spoke to her. It was more of a feeling rather than a message. She looked back, finding an enormous crowd gathered around two people who were fighting.

   She didn't remember seeing them enter. Who were they? Throughout the past few weeks, she had grown numb to any surprises.

   She could see Percy, the entire mob of people obstructing her view. She figured that he could take care of himself. He was, after all, the Lightbringer.

   As she turned, she pondered if everything that they both had was real.

   But she liked him, didn't she? Or was it just his mysteriousness that attracted her? Some questions, she decided, were best left unanswered.

   "After all," She told herself, "He is the hero of the story, not her."

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   "The grounds are now shaking; kingdoms bare." Perseus hummed to himself, lying on the ground.

    "Time to finish this!" War announced, lifting his weapon, now in the form of a trident. His army roared and howled, eager to lay waste to the world above.

   "The floods are soon coming; all prepare."

   War ignored the hero's delusional words. He ceremonially held his trident, preparing to end the only thorn in his plans. He looked at the heroes that watched him, none daring to challenge him.

   But really, who could blame them? The horseman had just beaten the strongest of them all. But not all were to be silent. There would always be that one, standing up when no one else did.

   "Stop!" Yelled a voice from among the crowd. The heroes looked at each other, wondering who it was that spoke. A pale boy stepped forth from the crowd, guilt tugging at his heart.