End of the Line

#33 - The Dream

Chapter 33 - The Dream
published: Wednesday, 4 September 2019

That night, Percy had his first dream in five years. Maybe it was to do with the fact that, according to Mnemosyne, they now had a chance to beat Pontus. They're quest wasn't completely hopeless.

Maybe it was because he fell asleep curled around Annabeth's form. Since he'd promised her that they'd talk later, they'd returned to her room. Annabeth finally relented and agreed that her powers were unnecessarily dangerous and uncharted territory, which led them or pore over old books about Athena and her children.

There was little mention of any other demigods having similar powers, but Annabeth insisted that she wasn't the only one, relaying her dream to him. Percy assumed he'd fallen asleep next to her — definitely from boredom and a massive dyslexia headache.

But anyway, it didn't matter why, because Percy dreamt that night.

"Percy," someone was calling his name.

Percy blinked rapidly. It was weird, since most dreams were just visions, but this time, Percy could look down and see his body. The world around him slowly shifted, making him wince as everything around him focused and unfocused repeatedly.

"Percy."

There it was again. The voice was achingly familiar, but Percy couldn't place it no matter how hard he wracked his brain.

And then everything snapped into focus. The world sharpened and Percy found himself sitting on the floor in front of a tall man. As his gaze raked over the invaders of his dreams, Percy started to feel a memory tingle in the back of his mind.

A trident, wavy brown hair, green eyes and a Mediterranean complexion.

"Dad," Percy realised with a start.

"Percy," Poseidon exhaled with relief, rushing forward and wrapping his arms around his son. "By Hades, I thought I'd never see you again."

Percy was frozen in place, unable to move his limbs as his father embraced him so tightly he was afraid he'd choke. He began to relax as he began to realise that this was his father. His father was here.

"Dad," Percy choked out. "Can't—breathe."

Poseidon released him reluctantly with an embarrassed expression. "Sorry, it's just, I haven't been able to reach you for five years." His face darkened and his eyes began to resemble the ocean on a stormy day.

"We haven't heard from any of the gods in—" Percy ran a hand through his hair frustratedly. "Well, in five years."

"You think I've wanted to stay away?" Poseidon demanded. He ground his teeth with a scowl. "I've been trapped here, under the sea bed with no contact with anyone. No gods, no demigods."

"Pontus," Percy reasoned. He groaned and a slapped a hand to his forehead. "Of course, he'd get rid of the Olympians first. How did we not think of that?"

Poseidon patted him on the shoulder sympathetically.

"Why now?" Percy asked. "How can you reach me now?"

Uncertainty washed over his features. "I'm not sure," his father said slowly. "But Kronos' presence is near you. I've formed a weak connection to you, but it'll break once Pontus realises I've made contact with you."

"The scythe," Percy realised. "You're connecting with me through your father?"

Poseidon nodded with a frown. "He does come in handy sometimes." Even in a billion small pieces, was the unspoken continuation that made Percy grin.