On The Seas of Destiny

Argo

A/N. Reviews!

"ooooo, enjoyed this, keep up the good work!" -allisonj1008

Glad you like it, I will.

"I like the pirate Percy gives an air of Jack Sparrow It's Cool Great I love The Story Keeps Going Like This I would like to see how far the Story goes take your time You're Great :D." -XPersaX

Yeah, this was inspired by PotC, so I could see how I might have given him part of Jack's personality. Glad you like it!

Onto the chapter!

Chapter Fourteen

     Jason, the one of the Argonauts, not the one of Percy's crew, was buried on an unnamed island in the middle of the caribbean. Who buried him there, no one knows. After he was cast out of his kingdom by the Gods because of his actions against Medea, he fled to the sea on the Argo. Past that no one knows what happened to him. No one living at least, and dead men tell no tales. But the words of the living lived long after the body's death.

     Someone in that time knew. They wrote about it in a journal, with a map attached. Millenia later, the journal fell apart, the pages within scattering out. The page with the burial site and the map, almost as if by Fate, the page ended up in the hands of one Percy Jackson when he was walking through Likler.

     That piece of paper would be the source of Percy's obsession for the next few years. Now, Percy's ship, the Argo II (What a coincidence!) was anchored out in the sea, while a small rowboat containing two pirates traveled to the beach.

     Percy's arms had gone numb from rowing. Not that they were tired, he was used to doing this, his arms were fine. But he did it without thinking about it. It became as autonomous as breathing.

     Zoë sat across from him. Her eyes watched his arms as they flexed with each row. Percy caught her staring, causing her to look away, a light blush dusting her cheeks. Percy smiled a little, and turned his neck to see how close they were to the beach. Still a bit off.

     Percy continued rowing. The journey was silent, the only noise coming from the oars as they cut through the water. The sun beat down on them. Not a cloud in the sky to provide cover for them. Sweat dripped down Percy's back, falling like a waterfall. Zoë didn't seem to be faring any better.

     Percy paused his rowing to wipe the sweat that beaded on his forehead. He looked down at his hands. Years of rowing had caused thick calluses to form in his hands. Now the calluses were starting to rip once again. He sighed and resumed rowing.

     The boat stopped as the keel dug into the sand of the shallow water. Percy let go of the oars, striking those into the sand, standing them up. He stood up and stretched his arms and back. He stepped out of the rowboat, Zoë following him.

     The sand stuck to their wet shoes. Their footprints marked their steps as they traveled inland. The island was forestry in the middle, surrounded by a barren beach made of white sand. What laid inside the forest, no one knew. But if the journal was to be believed, then the final resting place was somewhere inside. If it wasn't Percy didn't know what he was going to do. He had chased it for so long, if it wasn't true... Not only would he be letting himself down, but he would be letting his crew down as well. They depended on him, they believed him, they trusted him. If he was wrong...

    They reached the tree line. Percy's mind flashed back to when Luke had left him on that island to die. He hadn't ventured into that forest very far, just enough to find a rock to crack open that coconut. He shook the memory away.

     He sat down at the trunk of a tree. The shade provided a nice place for them to cool down before searching for Jason's burial site. Zoë sat down next to him.