From The Beginning {A Percy Jackson Fanfiction}

| ζ |

| 11,200 - 11,190 BCE |

| The Titanomachy - Part One |

Imagine;

There is a lake, far, far away from all those who live. It is surrounded by mountains that touch the clouds, on an island in the middle of an ocean. The skies are always clear. It never rains or storms. There are no animals, no birds that fly overhead nor fish that swim in the sea.

The land is always quiet, the waters are always still.

Can you see it in your head? The lake with dark and still waters?

Now, imagine you find this lake that had been previously undisturbed for all of eternity. You stumble across this lake, and you pick up a stone from its shores; light and smooth. You throw it, and you watch it skip across the waters.

Each time the rock hits the surface, it ripples.

You have broken the lake's unending stillness. Do you think it remembers? Do you think it can tell the difference between calm and rough? Broken and unbroken?

Here is a similar situation: There was once nothing. Just an unending void and dark mist with unending curiosity and a thirst for more. The void is the lake. The mist is you.

The mist, often known as Chaos, created Gaea. Gaea is the stone.

More Protogenoi are created: Ouranos, Pontus, Tartarus. And then the Titans, and then the Elder Cyclopes and the Hekatonkheirs. All stones, disrupting the stillness of the lake.

Each action they perform is a ripple. Impossible to stop and impossible to trace. Or one would think.

Or one would think.

≜≜≜

A grey sky. Dark and rolling.

Rocks and roots, tripping and hindering.

A cave. Covered in vines and moss and fungus. Claimed by Gaea herself.

A boy. White, curly hair. Vibrant blue eyes.

Free them.

≜≜≜

"Do you think she is okay?" Zoë asked.

Above them, the night sky glistened with stars. They twinkled and shimmered, ever-changing. It was a calming sight. One that was much needed, especially now, when the present seemed heavy and bleak. The world was quiet, save for the bugs and birds that sang their songs for the world.

In their clearing, where Perseus had first gifted Zoë Anaklusmos and a promise of mentorship, they lied next to one another. The grass was long and ticklish, but it was nice, just staring up at the sky and forgetting about their problems.

Perseus let himself ponder Zoë's question for a long while. A star raced across the sky, and he traced its path with his eyes. At last, he says, "I do not know."

Zoë doesn't acknowledge his response, so he continues.

"I prayed. To the Protogenoi, to the Fates. I asked for a sign. A vision. They did not answer. I do not know what to do. Where to look. I feel... lost."

Zoë rolls over so that she lays on her side, looking at him with her dark eyes. "It is not your fault, you know. None of this is." Perseus turns his head so that he can look her in the eyes. "I know you, Perseus. What happened to Calypso... no one could have known. No one could have prevented it. We can only hope that she is safe and that she will eventually return to us."