❈ The correct choice will bring despair and chaos.
Those words had been echoing in Mark's mind since Pan spoke them into existence.
It will change nothing or it will change everything.
What did that even mean? When was he supposed to know when to make a choice? How many choices were there? Why would the correct choice bring despair and chaos?
That sure as hell didn't sound like the correct choice, so why?
He didn't get to think much about it or ask the now-faded god of the wild what it meant because he was, well, faded.
That factored in with the fact that the moment they landed back at camp, the invasion was minutes away, which made him push the words to the back of his mind. He couldn't afford to be distracted in battle.
Helena and Clarisse had both bitched about him being on the front lines, so he went further down and stayed with the Apollo campers. He was pissed that he wasn't with his siblings but he wouldn't deny that it made sense.
Mark was always better with bow in his hand than a sword or spear.
He was gearing up when he saw Helena give Ethan a weapon. The weapon. Her weapon, Ruby.
He didn't know what she was thinking, honestly.
She spent a couple days with the kid and had already decided to take both the pirate, Ethan, and the one with slight anger issues, Nico, under her wing.
He didn't get to think too much about it because Clarisse started barking out orders and the ground started shaking. Giants exploded from the maze entrance, followed by monsters and demigods alike.
A grin works its way onto his face.
Oh, this was going to be fun.
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
Mark was his father's son.
The anger, the rage, and the love of battle. He thrived on it, like most of his siblings.
But he was also his mother's son. And that was his downfall.
His mother was frankly the complete composite of his father, which was weird since the gods usually tended to go for mortals that embodied some aspect of their domain.
Most of his siblings had parents in positions of war or the like.
Police officers. Military women. Wrestlers. Those were the types of people his father went for. Helena and him were the exception to that; maybe that's why he felt so close to her.
Helena's mother didn't sleep with Ares; she was given to her as a blessing and didn't even get to know her before she died.
Mark's mother was a doctor who vowed to commit no harm and save people regardless of who they were.
Both were blatant outliers, in the god of wars tastes.
If he had been purely his father's child, maybe he wouldn't care as much. Maybe he wouldn't be as soft as he was. Maybe he wouldn't have hesitated to fight demigods on opposing sides.
People who his mother had told him to save.
His mother never had a problem with the monsters—demigods, though—or mortals in general. She could never wrap her mind around the fact that her son could take a human life and feel little to no remorse about it.
YOU ARE READING
𝒞𝒶𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓇𝓉𝒾𝒸 | ᴘᴇʀᴄʏ ᴊᴀᴄᴋꜱᴏɴ¹
Fanfiction❝Guess I don't have a choice, All because I like a boy.❞ ❈ The favoured daughter of Ares finally reaches camp with the help of the boy her father hates most and is immediately thrown into war. Luckily for her, she thrives in battle. ᴏʀ ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ❈...
