The Unknown Destiny

| Chapter 15 || "I bleed, sir; but not kill'd." |

Hello, Readers! Just a forewarning, a lot of you are going to cry during this chapter, even though it's pretty short. Sorry in advance.

Chapter Fifteen

"I bleed, sir; but not kill'd."

*Third Person Point of View*

"Are you alright?"

Percy was shivering. Despite this, sweat beaded on his forehead. "I've been better. How about you? Are you hurt?"

"You've just been shot! Why are you asking me?" If he was in better condition, Artemis would've hit him for being so stupid. Perhaps a blow to the head would've set it on straight.

"I almost killed you," Percy protested in a faint, scratchy voice. "He almost made me kill you."

She choked back a sob. "You wouldn't have let that happen. I know you."

Around them, the campers were closing in slowly. The fight was over; the gods left the monsters in dust while Percy and Artemis had been fighting. Now, in the aftermath of the death and destruction, they needed yet another tragedy to play out before their eyes; curiosity spared no one.

They weren't disappointed. Percy lay, dying in Artemis' arms. Why? The confusion that was running through them all was dizzying. Why would Artemis be cradling Percy after everything he'd done? After he betrayed her? Unless.

"The guardians never betrayed us."

That was Hermes. He passed through the crowd to the front, tears staining his cheeks and monster dust clinging to his winged Reeboks.

"They were being controlled. Isn't that right, Percy?" he asked.

Percy clenched his eyes shut in a long blink, trying to clear the dozens of spots tangoing in front of him. "Yeah..." His voice was getting weaker. "He was planning this all along. We were just his pawns-" He cut off into a spasm of coughs, coaxing more blood to trickle out from his chest wound. Bloody drool dribbled from the corner of his mouth.

Apollo rushed forward, finally breaking the static atmosphere. He pressed his hands to the wound as two of his sons appeared shortly after with bandages, gauze, and a bowl of hot water. Percy pawed at Apollo's hands.

"Stop... I'm already dead. There's nothing you can do..." He turned his head to meet Artemis' eyes again and blinked a few times. He took a few wet breaths before he spoke again. "I need...to tell you." His eyes shifted to Hermes. "He wanted you to kill your guardians. If we...we die by the hand of those we swore to protect, it gives him power."

"And then he can come here?" Artemis asked.

Percy nodded. "He will come to earth...with them all. Hundreds of soldiers at his disposal..."

"How do we stop him?" Hermes pressed, clenching his fists until his knuckles turned white. Righteous fury was thudding through his veins. "There must be a way."

Percy coughed again, spitting up more blood. With a slow, shaky hand, he raised one finger. "One way..."

Apollo worked faster at cleaning Percy's wound, his hands steady and slow as he extracted the arrow. One of his sons dabbed at the wound while the other maintained a constant pressure.

"There's some internal bleeding," Apollo informed his sister. "Obviously. But...I'm not sure how much we can do."

"It's alright..." Percy said. "I will last long enough..."

"Long enough? What's that supposed to mean? What are you planning to do, Percy?" Artemis asked, half scolding, half worried.

"I must say his name."