Percy Jackson Goes to Arrendale (Percy Jackson Frozen crossover) - Abandoned

Beware the Riptide

The final test of Prince-ship for prince Agnar of Arrendale, retrieve the coronation scepter of Arrendale from the bandits of Sciron, the supposed son of Poseidon. How naive the Greeks are, bowing to their gods like they're kings. Seriously, they're just figments of imagination and legends, it's not like they can actually do anything to the living people.

Right?

The test had been going splendidly until Sciron discovered the plot of the northerners. Agnar barely managed to extract the scepter without getting impaled by arrows shot by Sciron's henchmen. Agnar knew that if Sciron managed to catch up to him, he was dead. The bandit king, owner of the Continental Turtle, never missed his shots.

Agnar tore through the forest, leaves spraying up in the wake of his running sandals. A thin tree branch whipped across his face before his eyes could even register it and blink.

He screamed as a small knot on the branch hit his left eye and he hit the ground and rolled, the scepter and his hunter knife's hilt dug into his side as he half-rolled and half-slid down a small embankment along the side of his path.

"He's here, I heard a scream." A voice whispered through the gloom of the pre-dawn atmosphere. "None of our own would be so clumsy as to hurt themselves on the un-moving foliage around here. "

Agnar paled so fast he might have seen a ghost. That was Sciron. It was over, maybe the bandits will at least send a ransom note for my body to the royal court.

A twig cracked somewhere to Agnar's left and with a jerk of his head, whiplash set in as he caught sight of a boy, no older than three or four years old, stood looking at him.

"Come," the boy whispered. "They will not stay frozen long."

Agnar, not questioning the impossibility of everything, leaped to his feet and raced to the boy's side, sure he was just talking to him, pure nonsense. However, when he glanced over his shoulder, expecting to be looking down the shaft of an arrow, knocked and ready, he saw around two dozen human shaped, things, almost beautiful, frozen in place, looking at where Agnar had stood, just moments before.

"Run, they will not stay like this for long."

So he ran, he clutched the toddler to his chest as he ran. He ran like the spirits of vengeance were on his tail, seeking justice for his sins.

The prince, king to be, vowed that should he make it home and become king, he would never again neglect dangerous criminal activity in his city, he would never allow any criminal north-lander to gain such influence and power, such imposing presence.

Agnar leaped over a small rise, expecting to find himself on the beach of the oceanic channel between the Greek peninsula and the mainland, where he would find his way back to his own country in the north of Western Europe.

Where he would be safe and the Bandits of the Peninsula wouldn't dare to follow him. To the city and port of Athens.

But the prince's prayers to the God in which he found no faith, had fallen on deaf ears. Tide was low and the turning would be at any moment. The riptide would tear its way through the channel, sweeping away any that would stand against it.

His arms parted of their own accord but Agnar couldn't bring himself to care, he spun around and screamed, he screamed even though it would alert his pursuers who had no doubt, in the blistering summer heat, melted free from their ice prisons and come after him and the child now by his feet.

Who should be by his feet, no, instead the young one was waddling his way out to the water. Agnar glanced towards the open sea on his left, through the rest of the channel and saw what would terrify him more than being held at the mercy of the bandits on his trail.