Guiding Light (Perzoe)(Under Editing)

Navigating

Eight
Navigating

Percy let out a scream of frustration as the same two doors appeared in front of him, guarded by the same double headed god of doors. The demigod cursed the god's and their 'spoils' as he chucked the ball of string at the wall.

He thought the string would lead him to the center of the maze, add on to the fact that it was a magic maze that could shorten distances, and yet he felt like he was walking all the way to Crete. Beyond his own physical exhaustion, the ever changing twists and turns of the maze was exhausting him mentally.

"Throwing a tantrum won't help you kid, all you gotta do is answer the question, left door or right door. One leads to death, the other leads to your destination." The statue like god called out, annoyed by the demigods performance.

"I just don't no what fucking door to pick! Which door is the right door!" Percy shouted, dropping his backpack to the ground next to him as he slid to the floor.

"Well, there's the door on the right, and the right door..." one head stated, before getting shushed by the other head.

"Both doors lead to death Perseus, one is just more drawn out."

"You said something! Don't try and cover it up, I heard it! The right door... and the right door!" Percy shouted before his voice dropped to a mutter. "It was that easy this entire fucking time!" The boy exclaimed, hurriedly gathering his things. He'd finally found a way past this useless door god. With a new burst of energy, Percy took off down the left hallway, all but throwing himself through the door at the end.

To say he was disappointed by what lay beyond the door would be an understatement, but at least he wasn't dead yet. With maybe a little bit more hesitation after the thought of death, the son of Poseidon continued his trek forward, letting the golden string navigate him through the endless hallways and tunnels.

In hopes of ending the boredom that threatened to overtake him, the boy submerged himself into his thoughts, allowing his senses to keep a look out rather than he himself. It had been a week since he'd left camp, but from what Percy remembered, Annabeth had said that time to vary depending on how long you were in the maze, part of its magical properties he guessed.

The thought of his blonde haired friend struck a cord in him. Not only had he ditched her at camp, he'd been all but ignoring her for the past few months. It wasn't his fault, he needed to get better, get stronger, faster, anything to help his friends survive this war. Annabeth didn't understand his drive, or why she couldn't be a part of it, but had wordlessly let him continue his current path, only checking up on his health, and answering his random questions.

He couldn't help but feel bad for the daughter of Athena. Not only had she fallen in love with her enemy, she'd fallen for her best friend who seemingly wanted to kill her. Percy knew she needed someone to talk to, someone to confide in, but he just wasn't that person. Just the mentioning of Luke set Percy off, and on top of that, Percy just didn't have time to help her.

Percy was drawn out of his musings has his awareness shot through the roof, almost like someone was screaming in his ear that something was wrong. The demigod had riptide out in an instant, the bronze blade glowing, lighting up the hall better than he thought possible. The glow also gave a reason for his senses to go off; there standing in front of him was a small group of Telekhines, roaming about the ever changing tunnels of the Labyrinth, or at least they were until they spotted him.

With a noise that vaguely reminded Percy of a strangled seal, the group of Telekhines rushed him, unknown light glinting off the sharp edges of their blades. The old Percy might have panicked, he might have stood his ground, or he might have made a sarcastic comment, but the old Percy was just that; old. He was dead and gone. The new son of Poseidon was tired, angry, and ready to go home.

With a strength that had been all but unknown less than a week ago, Percy called forth the pin that formed in his gut, forcing the walls of the Labyrinth to squeeze shut, crushing his opponents between the clashing textures of Ancient Greece and Roman sewers.

'The Earth-shaker'. The demigod had all but forgotten about the other half of his powers passed down from Poseidon. In a small incident involving a cyclops, Percy had tried to force water at the monster, only to watch in awe as a chunk of rock shot from the wall, smashing the Cyclops' head, giving Percy an ample opening to attack.

After the gold dust had settled, the prince of the seas had taken a few minutes testing out his new found powers, before deciding they were much more helpful in the Labyrinth than his water powers. The teen could only chuckle at the Telekhines misfortune of happening across him. He was in no mood to mess around, evident by the small mounds of fine golden dust littering the bow recovered tunnel.

Speaking of, the demigod could feel his emotions and nerves spiraling out of control the longer he stayed in these decrepit tunnels. His paranoia was through the roof, causing him to jump at shadows and cringe at nonexistent sounds. At the same time, his anger was slowly seeping into his bones, fueling an already never ending fire.

When he finally found a way to collapse this damned maze, and hopefully kill Luke in the process, he would definitely rejoice and take a few hours to himself. Maybe go for a real swim for once.

His training had been taking up almost all of his time. He'd pushed all of friends to the back burner, praying they understood his intentions. Unfortunately, the only one who seemed to have any faith in him was Annabeth, but she was dealing with her own problems.

You'd have to be blind to not notice the way the blonde yearned for the boy she once called family. No matter how much Percy hated it, wishing she'd get over that connection, he understood it. He would do anything for his family and friends, even if they tried to kill him. How hypocritical.

Just as Percy was about to slip into an offshoot from the main tunnel, a golden light flashed behind him, before dying down to reveal the god of the forge himself, Hephaestus.

"I'm in the middle of a quest. Is it really that important?" Percy frowned, annoyed at being interrupted in his search.

"That's no way to speak to you're better. Do not forget Jackson, I am a god. I could squash you with a thought...."

"Ares said the same thing, and I won against him. He was the god of War, compare that to your forges, I know who I'd rather have at my side." Percy cut in.

"And yet you lost to a Titan. They are not so much powerful than we god's are. Just because you beat the fading god of War, do not believe yourself to be some hotshot. Isn't that why you drown yourself in training? Working yourself to the bone? Ostracizing yourself from your fellow campers?" Hephaestus questioned, raising a deformed brow.

"You know nothing about me. Now get on with it, why are you here?" Percy fumed, his hand twitching for riptide.

"One of my forges is currently being occupied by Titan forces. I need you to go and clear it, and in return, I'll give you information regarding the owner of the Labyrinth." Percy accepted without hesitation. He'd get to take his frustration out on some monsters, and he'd gain some info. Two birds with one stone.

"I'll send you right outside the forge, when you're done, this spider will lead you back to me." The god of forges said, placing a small mechanical arachnid in Percy's coat pocket. Leaving no room for question, The god teleported Percy, leaving the demigod with a headache, and a deep sense of nausea.

As he opened his eyes, slowly regaining his bearings, a raging heat assaulted his skin, working him into a quick sweat, causing. Him to instantly shed his hoodie. Taking in his surrounding, the demigod found himself in what looked to be the inside of a volcano. At the bottom of the basin sat a lie of flowing lava, crisscrossed atop by supported cat walks. In the center of the walkways, sat a single island, holding one of the largest anvils Percy had ever seen.

What really attracted his eye, was the weapon laying atop the iron. It's long, blackish marble handle, capped with golden spikes, made for a frightening weapon in his own right. But the crescent blade resembling that of the scythe of Death caused a shiver to run down Percy's spine. He had no doubt about who owned that weapon.

Kronos' scythe, a weapon fabled to have the power to reap the souls of its victims, empowering the wielded. The titans had recreated the weapon capable of killing Immortals in a single stroke.

"Brothers, I smell a demigod..."