Divine Existence - Percy Jackson

Prologue

Oh, to my dearest readers, 

I know not how to tell you the tale of this Tragedy you are about to read. The choice is only mine to make. I can spare you the details of a short mortal life and give you the bare minimum. Or I can tear your heart out with my own two hands and tell you everything. Whatever I decide, you will know heartache like an old friend before this tale is done. I just hope that I can do it with the gentlest hands. This is a heavy burden that I carry on my shoulders. 

As the author, I must give you my deepest and most sincere apologies. I, myself, carry this burden with a heavy heart. If you have picked up this story, I fear you might already be in grave danger. I regret to inform you, dearest readers, that it might be too late for you. You must believe me, when I tell you, my job is to protect you the only way I know how. My greatest wish would be to reach inside these pages, grab your hand, and take you to the safest place I know. Somewhere, where you do not have to face the cruelties of this world. Alas, I can do no such thing. 

There are dangers lurking around every corner. These dangers are being hidden by what I call the Mist. It is a type of power much older than you, or even I. The Mist is a magic older than even the gods themselves. To put it simply, the Mist is supposed to protect mere mortals from insanity. Your reality will be completely warped. Instead of seeing a fourteen-year-old boy holding a Celestial sword, he might instead be wielding a baseball bat. See, not as terrifying to come face to face with. It keeps your mind sane. You can see examples of the Mist, not only in this Tragedy that I am about to share with you, but throughout other Greek tales as well.

Reader, if you can see through the Mist, if you can see that Celestial sword, then I have to get a protector to you as quickly as I can. They will be the ones to find you. I beg of you, do not go in search of your own. I fear you might already be in trouble though, just by flipping through this story. I knew I never should have taken this pen to these pages. It is my greatest regret. I wish I could tell you to put this book down, walk away, and ignore anything that you might come across. Go about your day and keep believing that this story is of the fantasy type, or even fiction. 

But, if you truly see yourself in these pages as you read, then keep this book with you and run. Run until you feel your legs are on fire, and after that point run even faster. Eventually, your protector will find you. Use the advice that I give you in this book and keep yourself alive long enough. Do not call anyone, they will find you faster that way I'm afraid. Get to New York, Long Island to be specific. I promise, soon enough, everything will all begin to make sense. You just have to make it somewhere safe. 

I believe, readers, that I am the first to tell you this; the world you live in is full of monsters and gods. Yes, that word is intentionally lowercased. Like I said, if you see yourself in these pages, you are probably a son or daughter of one of the gods. Before you start cheering, I beg you to reconsider. This life, it is a death sentence for most of us. There is usually no happy ending, and what mortal life you do have, is cut short. That is why I write this Tragedy, so you can see what might become of your own life. It is possible that you might be a child of one of the minor gods, who do not get much attention and don't have a strong scent. That is actually the best case that we can truly hope for. But, if you find yourself getting chased, needing to run faster, and fighting more monsters than you can keep track of, I worry for you. The gods favor no one. Least of all the ones who are destined for something greater. Those are the people who the Fates do not look kindly on.  

Can you name this war-torn author, a hero who had their happy ending? The gods want mortals to do all the work for them, yet in the end, there is always a tragedy. A hard lesson to be learned. Take my darling Orpheus and Eurydice for example. No matter how much Orpheus loved her, he could not help but turn back and look for her in the Underworld. In the end, he lost the love of his life. Or what about Achilles and Patroclus. No matter how strong Achilles was, he still lost his love. These are just a few tragedies to name off. The gods love to play with our little mortal lives. Nobody, especially the gods, expects a hero to get their happy ending. I fear that you cannot be happy and win the war as well. Not even this story will give you the hope you are looking for. That is why I want to try and spare you the utter heartache. Just let you keep believing that every story ends with a happy ever after. That would be cruel of me though. 

This tragedy is a tale of the saviors of Olympus. The story of two eighteen-year-olds, who sat on the throne of the gods, and defeated the Titan Kronos. Children who won the war. I did just tell you though, no mortal wins both the battle and lives to tell its tale. Readers, dead men tell no tales. That will be your mantra to remember as you flip through these pages. 

If I still have your attention readers, and you would like to at least see their victory of battle, we must work our way up to that. You need to know how the two Demigods travelled to the Underworld, to find the most powerful weapon that was stolen. Learn how they sailed across the Sea of Monsters, to save their friends. Or, where one held up the weight of the entire world on their shoulders, all to save a goddess and their friends. Read, how despite being deathly terrified of being buried alive, they delved into an underground Labyrinth to save their home. 

These pages do not carry just another Greek tragedy, where you learn some moral at the end of the story. This is a tragedy that had been written in the stars by the Fates. Prepare yourself, readers, for the life you are more than likely going to find yourself in soon enough. 

Run little Demigod, even if your body has hit exhaustion, just keep running. You will meet one of these heroes, and many others at camp. Your protector will find you eventually, as long as breath still enters your lungs. May the gods bless the journey you are about to embark on. Please, I beg of you, stay alive for me, my dearest readers. 

My deepest and most regrettable condolences, 

The Bearer of this Tragedy