Demons Of The League Of Assassins (A PJO and ARROW CROSSOVER)

Chapter 11 - XI: Chivalry of Killing

1 Out of Control

Nanda Parbat

Percy had just started to enjoy the serenity of the morning when a scream shattered the sober silence.

Percy cursed as he leapt to his feet, then climbed down the dome into a hallway and was sprinting in the direction of the infirmary, where the screaming was coming from.

He found no other than Malcolm Merlyn crumpled on the floor. The priestess hovering around him, trying to administer a sedative to the in pain withering Al Sa-her. But he was seizing so much even her skills were challenged. Al 'iiesar stared at the picture before him until Al rwh jolted him out of his stupor.

"As much as I want to see him suffer further, you should end it", he told the younger man.

"I do not murder people who can not defend themselves", Al 'iiesar stated point-blank. Al Sa-her's cries of pain in front of him.

"You should release him from his pain, that's not murder, that's mercy", Al rwh explained Al 'iiesar, who snorted, unbelieving.

"The Chivalry of Killing so to speak?"

"If you will. Just look at him! Maybe someone already poisoned him. You would spare him further pain if you did it now."

"And maybe if someone held him, I could sedate him and find out, what's causing this", the priestess interjected.

Both men were looking like scolded children, and Al 'iiesar hurried to assist her to the best of his abilities. First, he grabbed Malcolm's arms, pressed him with pure strength to the ground and in that way rendered him immobile.

"You couldn't have done that a bit earlier?", the priestess asked as she forced the liquid sedative down Al Sa-her's throat.

"Of course, but I was surprised, which rarely happens nowadays."

"Nowadays?"

"Yeah, I made resolutions to not get blindsided as much as I have been", Al 'iiesar explained, still restraining Al Sa-her, who had stilled considerably.

"As admirable as that is", the priestess started impatiently, "but I think he's out. So would you please let me examine him?"

"Of course", Al 'iiesar grabbed Al Sa-her and put him in the next free bed, "he's all yours."

"Thank you. So long as I examine him, could you please care for the others?"

"Of course, but you know I have only experience with battlefield first aid and nothing more?", Al 'iiesar asked.

"Well, that should suffice. The most you caused them is a deep flesh wound and a concussion, so you should be fine",

"Do you have alcohol for disinfection?"

"Yes, in the cabinet to the left at the end, bring it to those who aren't unconscious, they can take care of themselves, just work on those with the worst injuries", the priestess told him, while examining Al Sa-her.

"Will do."

With that, they worked pretty much in silence apart from some stray moans of pain the assassins gave forth.

After a while though, the priestess found what had caused such a pain to Al Sa-her that he couldn't even control himself, so she spoke up.

"Al 'iiesar, you really should see this", the priestess sounded genuinely surprised.

At her word, Al 'iiesar walked towards her. What he saw should not have been possible.

2 Flashback 14: A Fateful Letter

Nanda Parbat, Al 'iiesar's room

He sat in his room and took stock of what had been in the saddlebags. Of course, there were the saddlebags that turned out to be the Chameleon Armour, which was a very practical item he could be very well of use here in this different world. The dagger, Arai, on the other hand, would only be useful if he encountered a mythical creature and for that, he could also use Anaklysmos. But as a reminder of Annabeth, it was of such a great value he would not measure it otherwise.

The Stygian Iron whistle was a whole other can of worms. Normally, it would call Mrs O'Leary, but he was worlds away from his hellhound and so Percy was not sure if it would work.

Last but not least was Daedalus' laptop that had belonged to Annabeth. Maybe he could use it to forge his identity in this new world. And help him in any other digital way. He took it in his hand and wanted to go and sit down on his bed. He was just heading there when something fell out of the laptop and aground. Percy put the laptop on the bed and went to pick up the folded sheet that had fallen on the floor.

After he straightened up, he read that it was "To Perseus Jackson", which already meant it was probably from some immortal, that was neither his father nor Hestia (both would have written Percy and neither like the rest of the Olympian knew that he was alive). So there was only a certain amount of possibilities and he dreaded what it meant. He sat down on his bed and opened the letter with a tense feeling.

Dear Perseus,

If you read this you survived the Abyss.

Yes, he did, but now he was nearly sure who had sent this.

We asked of our mother to send you through the Abyss of Chaos because you never tried to break your bindings over your godly powers.

His suspicion was confirmed and he also got the reason for his exile.

To take your rightful place, you must break the manacles that shackle your powers.

He did not want to take this supposedly "rightful" place, he wanted to live his life his own way.

We knew that you would not do so if you did not have a reason to. Now you have one. Your powers are the only way to come back home.

Dam it two times, damn right he would not use his powers, because he himself damn well feared what he could do with them.

We gave you this initiative, so you may be prepared for what is yet to come. But don't mistake this for a quest, this is a trial only you can face, your friends won't be able to help you at the end.

Could those fucking, old, meddling hags not leave him alone? Like completely? This was like one crappy foreshadowing for another Great Prophesy or something similar.

Despite that we bound your friend, the pegasus, and some items to you, to help you accomplish parts of this objective.

Use what you have at your disposal wisely.

How the hell could things and especially Blackjack be bound to him? He got more questions than answers from this crappy piece of paper.

Sincerely Atropos, Clotho & Lachesis aka The Fates

This was the signature that sealed his fate. He fell back on the bed as close to crying or weeping as he had not felt in a long time. He thought he could do the equivalent of a vacation here with the added challenge that he had to find out, how to go home. But now he actually did not know what to do without playing into their hands and that scared him nearly as much as his volatile, untameable powers.

AN: This is for all of you who read this story or reread it, so it got over 2,5k reads. This is for you. You deserve this. I know I don't have much time myself, but if you could take a little bit of time to tell me what you want to know about what happens, maybe I get some inspirations that I can use when I do have time. So don't be shy, every constructive criticism is appreciated.

WfS