𝙄𝙉𝙁𝙇𝘼𝙈𝙀𝘿; heroes of olympus

strength & sorrow

ERITH JAY
WHAT IS THIS? the god of the pit hissed. Why have you come, my disgraced son?

Damasen glanced at Erith, a message clear in his eyes: Go. Now.

She would not move.

The giant turned toward Tartarus. The Maeonian drakon stomped its feet and snarled.

"Father, you wished for a more worthy opponent?" Damasen asked calmly. "I am one of the giants you are so proud of. You wished me to be more warlike? Perhaps I will start by destroying you!"

Damasen leveled his lance and charged.

What remained of the monstrous army swarmed him, but the Maeonian drakon flattened everything in its path, sweeping its tail and spraying poison while Damasen jabbed at Tartarus, forcing the god to retreat like a cornered lion.

Bob and his cat began to stumble away from the battle, and Percy and Erith tensed at the same time. Erith touched his arm. "Percy, I have more power. Let me."

He looked like he wanted to protest, but he wasn't stupid. He knew she was right. His face gleaned with sweat. His body shook with exhaustion. She, on the other hand, felt great. In fact, if she didn't start burning shit again soon, she would likely burn herself up.

So Percy held the doors, and she ran to Bob, covering his exit as much as she could. Any monsters that got within ten feet incinerated on the spot. It felt great. She couldn't help grinning.

Golden ichor flowed from the wounds on Bob's arms and chest. His janitor's outfit hung in tatters. His posture was twisted and hunched, as if Tartarus's breaking the spear had broken something inside him. Despite all that, he was grinning, his silver eyes bright with satisfaction, which was the best thing Erith could've ever asked for.

When they reached the doors, he stood straighter. "Go," the Titan ordered. "I will hold the button."

Percy gawked at him. "Bob, you're in no condition―"

"There's no way we could leave you―" Erith stammered.

"You must, friends." Bob clapped Percy on the arm, nearly knocking him over. "I can still press a button. And I have a good cat to guard me."

"No," Erith said, shaking her head without realizing she was doing it. "No, Bob, I have light. I can hold off. I promised you would see the sun, I―"

Bob gave her a wistful smile. "It is your destiny to return to the world. Put an end to this madness of Gaea."

A screaming Cyclops, sizzling from poison spray, sailed over their heads. Erith extended a hand and it incinerated on the spot, raining ash on all of them.

Fifty yards away, the Maeonian drakon trampled through monsters, its feet making sickening squish squish noises as if stomping grapes. On its back, Damasen yelled insults and jabbed at the god of the pit, taunting Tartarus farther away from the Doors.

Tartarus lumbered after him, his iron boots making craters in the ground.

You cannot kill me! he bellowed. I am the pit itself. You might as well try to kill the earth. Gaea and I―we are eternal. We own you, flesh and spirit!

He brought down his massive fist, but Damasen side-stepped, impaling his javelin in the side of Tartarus's neck.

Tartarus growled, apparently more annoyed than hurt. He turned his swirling vacuum face toward the giant, but Damasen got out of the way in time. A dozen monsters were sucked into the vortex and disintegrated.